Southeast Asia

21 January 2000--Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

WOW.

Today we bore witness to the zaniest, most off-the-charts, most incredible spectacle imaginable: the Hindu Festival of Thaipusam. I won't bore you with a description. Rather, check out the photos at 2 Go Thaipusam Photos.

It was a powerful experience, seeing people who were so devout and so committed. This wasn't a show, but the real deal. A belief and faith that were palpable. In fact, I left the event feeling somewhat concerned for my own character. You see, while I consider myself a reasonably religious and spiritual person, I am quite concerned that I don't believe in anything with the same fervor and unyielding commitment that was demonstrated by many today.

28 January 2000--Ko Samui, Thailand

I met the "third lane" today, and I didn't like him.

The third lane is somewhat of an ethereal beast. Sometimes he is there, sometimes he isn't.

Look at traffic on any Thai roadway, and generally you'll be able to make out two lanes: one lane heading in one direction and another lane heading in another direction. Sometimes there will even be a painted line to further demarcate the two lanes.

But during our long day's journey from Penang, Malaysia to here in Ko Samui, Thailand, I was introduced time after unsettling time to the third lane, and I'm not afraid to admit that he frightens me (though I know I will warm to him in time).

Don't bother looking at the roadway for clues as to where the third lane is. It is only created on an ad hoc basis, as circumstances dictate, by the madcap Thai drivers that ply these roadways at insane speeds and with apparently little regard for the consequences of a head-on collision at such speeds. Who is entitled to use it, and in which direction the third lane flows, is a mystery.

Don't get me wrong. During our days of travel, blind passes on winding mountain roads, reckless drivers, overzealous speeds, and ridiculously unsafe driving has largely been the norm. We are rather used to it. But this was something else.

In other countries, our experience has been that drivers who chose unwise times to pass and realized that a collision with the oncoming vehicle was imminent would quickly retreat back into their proper lane behind the vehicle they were attempting to pass, to wait for a better opportunity to overtake.

But here in Thailand, as far as I can tell, retreat is never an option. Instead, a driver who passes at an inopportune time, where an oncoming vehicle is approaching at a dizzying pace, won't abort the pass attempt. Rather, he will rely on the mutual cooperation of both the oncoming vehicle and the vehicle he is attempting to pass, and assume that they will make room for him in the middle--to make a third lane--so that all three vehicles can, if necessary, occupy the same width of road (albeit fleetingly) in a harmonious fashion.

When not familiar with the third lane, your first exposure is stomach churning. Just as you are sure there is no way the driver can, in time, overtake the vehicle he is attempting to pass, and that a painful head-on collision is on the near term horizon, the third lane magically appears and all is well.

But then you become concerned with the frequency with which the third lane is utilized. Its availability clearly has the effect of making Thai drivers far less judicious and prudent with their pass attempts. "Hey, if I don't make it in time, who cares...I got the third lane." Frankly, the third lane requires just a little too much cooperation for my taste.

I just don't like it.

15 February 2000--Saigon, Vietnam

You haven't lived till you've been spirited through the streets of Saigon. at night as rush hour draws to a close, on a motorbike. It's something else.

Shortly after arriving at our hotel in Saigon, Mrs. Janzen arrived with a brother in law and a nephew--and their motorbikes--who would take us to their home for dinner. Having ridden on the back of motorbikes before in Siem Reap, the experience was not alien to us. However, the traffic volume and conventions of Saigon were!

To begin, the streets were clogged with other motorbikes, together with the occasional car, bus, and taxi and the much more frequent pedestrian. Lanes and traffic signals (where they worked) were merely suggestions, to be adhered to only in the driver's discretion. Offensive driving, together with maintaining the least possible distance with other bikes, cars, people and stationary objects, were much valued. Swerving was also commended.

All of this, taken together with the sights, sounds, and smells of this vibrant city, made for a magical 15 minute commute. Occasionally I would catch a glance of Kelly on the back of her bike and saw that she was having as much fun as I was. But the magic and fun were just beginning.

As we arrived to the family home, we were warmly greeted by Mrs. Janzen's Vietnamese family, together with Bo and Heidi who had caught an earlier flight. It mattered little that we spoke no Vietnamese, nor that they spoke very little English. The friendliness, warmth, and hospitality were palpable; we all smiled profusely, as they put beers in our hands, made a place for us at the table, and showed us how to prepare the Vietnamese food that was piled in front of us. They all were as genuinely thrilled to be hosting us as we were in being there; everyone was having fun.

We ate and drank together, smiled at one another, and occasionally traded English and Vietnamese phrases such as "Number 1" and the Vietnamese equivalent of "thank you." Toasts were frequent, characterized by the hearty Vietnamese drinking anthem of "yooo."

What a night.

21 February 2000--Hoi An, Vietnam

The van, together with the "Kelly Look," struck again.

Don't get me wrong, I love our van. The rhythm of the road, the sound of its engine and turn signal, the camaraderie of travel within its confines--all things that I will remember fondly. And, yes, I will look back warmly upon some of its minor mechanical failings.

It began on our first day in the van as we toured Saigon. Inexplicably, the van shut down mid-street, and could not be restarted. Hieu, Bo and I jumped out and pushed the van vigorously until it worked up enough speed such that it could be started by "popping the clutch." But the next time we turned off the engine, the same thing happened and it would not start.

No worries. Our driver Be and Hieu let us know that they merely needed to replace a part. So we walked across the street to a cafe and had a drink and played a game of pool. And before we could finish our pool game, we were advised that the part had been replaced and the van functional once more. It was actually quite amazing, the speed with which the repair was made. They merely called one of their family members who jumped on his motorbike, picked up the necessary part, and rode over to help with the repair. From then on I realized that these men were well versed with the mechanical workings of this machine, and that they could respond to any mechanical issue that we may encounter during our lengthy road travels through Vietnam.

Well it was a good thing they were so versed, because the next mechanical issue arose later that afternoon. Namely, the air-conditioning stopped working. And in the swelter that was Saigon, and all of south and central Vietnam for that matter, this was a big deal. But again, no problem as the AC was fixed that evening (and functioned properly throughout the rest of the trip).

Since then, the trip has passed without mechanical incident.

Which brings us to this morning. Just as we were pulling out of our hotel at 6:00am, we heard a loud noise that seemed to come from beneath the vehicle. We pulled over, and noticed that some sort of fluid was leaking relatively profusely from somewhere. Again, Be and Hieu were not concerned. They dropped us off so that we could eat breakfast, and drove off the find a part of some sort and fix the van once more. And fix it they did, although this time it took them close to 2 hours as they had to wait for a parts shops to open. Apparently, some sort of plastic fan wheel had shattered and, in doing so, had ripped a water hose. No problem.

So this now brings us to this afternoon, and the "Kelly Look." You see, as we were driving along a winding, mountain road, with me occasionally sticking my head and camera out the window to take a picture, the rear van window that I was sitting right next to simply fell out, loudly shattering into a million pieces on the road, all while I was looking through it. Let me repeat: it just fell out.

Needless to say, I was rather shocked and speechless to boot. Looking for comfort and reassurance from my loving wife who was sitting next to me, what I inexplicably received instead was the "Kelly Look."

While many may doubt me, protesting that dear, always smiling always happy, Kelly is not capable of such a thing, let me tell you that she looked at me with such venom, such hatred, such sheer loathing, that my initial trauma and surprise at having the window drop from the van was exponentially increased. I was looking into the face of pure evil.

My first thought was that she held me at fault for the now shattered window. "I...I....I...didn't even touch it" I meekly responded. While I tried to regain my composure, the Kelly Look began to fade away, to be replaced with something nearly as confusing. "Oh...I thought you threw the glass bottle out the window on purpose" she said, as a way to explain away the Look which had since vanished. Now I was really confused because we had no glass bottles in the van, so I had no idea what she was talking about.

No matter. Roughly 200 yards had passed since the window fell to the road and I had yet to announce it to the van. Not that it mattered, but surely it was an event that deserved comment. So I let Mrs. Janzen know that the window had simply fallen out, but I could not help but feel culpable, largely because of the Kelly Look which had condemned me so. But Kelly was back to normal; evil Kelly, Mini-Me Kelly, Linda Blair Kelly all had vanished, and things were back to normal. I was still confused by her initial reaction, and frankly still somewhat disturbed by the entire incident, but we drove on.

And Kelly almost got away without having to explain the Kelly Look.

But roughly an hour later, as I whiled away the drive time thinking about this and that and reliving the whole disturbing window incident, it all made sense. The riddle of the Kelly Look and the nonsensical comment about me throwing the glass bottle out the window were solved.

You see, I had been taking pictures out the window of the moving van. And you may recall that I had already destroyed one very expensive digital camera by dropping it on the volcanic rock of Volcan Arenal in Costa Rica. I surmised that Kelly had reacted so violently to the shattered window because she thought I had dropped the camera on the road, destroying yet another one. Her comment about the glass bottle was one quickly made when she saw that the camera was still in my hand, and so she felt compelled to explain the Kelly Look in some manner other than to say she hated me because she thought I broke another camera.

I felt like Encyclopedia Brown as I solved the riddle, and confronted her with my investigative conclusions. And sure enough, I was right on. We laughed heartily at it all.

But I still don't like the Kelly Look. It scares me.

23 February 2000--Hanoi, Vietnam

While Hanoi's streets are not as chaotic as the streets of her brasher and bolder sister, Saigon, to the south, they are chaotic enough. And they cause me to comment upon the Vietnamese way of crossing the street.

Let me begin by adding that both Hanoi and Saigon are rather pedestrian friendly. With Vietnam's history of French rule, French architecture and design, including tree lined streets with sidewalks, can be found everywhere (in stark contrast to cities like Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia where sidewalks were a seldom seen rarity). And there are also many crosswalks with functioning crossing signals.

Nevertheless, the principal method of crossing the street, which we have quickly embraced, is wonderfully elegant in its simplicity, but nonetheless somewhat unsettling to the newcomer.

You just walk across.

Waiting for a break in the traffic can be helpful, but it is not necessary. Crossing at a natural break or intersection can also make things easier, but is again optional. Waiting for the light to change or for the crossing signal to turn green is also a bonus, but not mandatory.

When you want to cross, you merely begin walking slowly, but purposefully, across the road, relying on the motorbikes and occasional vehicles to avoid you. And avoid you they will. Indeed, the easiest way to get in trouble while crossing the street is to stop in your tracks. As the speeding motorbikes will anticipate your path, if you stop their mental calculation of where you should be may well be upset, making you a much more likely collision victim.

Do this in the States and you will not be long for this world. But here, its the way things are done.

Crossing the street in true Vietnamese fashion. Don't mind the traffic whizzing about. They don't want to hit you any more than you want to be hit. Or so you hope.

26 February 2000--Hanoi, Vietnam

Well, we said goodbye today to what has been our family for more than a week when Mrs. Janzen, Hieu, Trung, and Be pulled out in that unforgettable van. yesterday we said goodbye to Bo and Heidi. It was all rather sad; after traveling with Bo and Heidi, and then other members of Mrs. Janzen's family, for roughly a month, it was somewhat odd to find ourselves alone once more. This slight feeling of dislocation was all the more pronounced given the overcast skies that seem to perpetually blanket this city this time of year.

But we truly did have an absolutely fabulous time with Bo, Heidi, Mrs. Janzen, and our new Vietnamese friends. And Mrs. Janzen truly treated us as though we were part of the family. Our time with them all was a highlight of our trip; times, laughs, kindness, and smiles (not to mention Bo's amazing, and wonderfully entertaining, stories) we will never forget.

28 February 2000--Hanoi, Vietnam

Now having had some time to reflect on the great times we had with our Vietnamese friends, I've made a conclusion about the language barrier and the effect it had on our time together. And I've concluded, ironically, that the language barrier actually enhanced, in certain ways, our time together. Let me explain.

Yes, at times it was frustrating not being able to talk with our friends. There is so much we would have liked to say, so many questions to ask, so many comments to make. We are certain they felt the same way.

But in the absence of conversation, we were left with communicating in a more primitive manner. Smiles and gestures carried the day. Enjoying good times communally were expression enough. There were no uncomfortable pauses in conversation, as there was no conversation. No one said anything offensive or irritating, since no one said anything. No one complained or whined for the same reason. It was in this way that the language barrier, oddly, had a wonderfully positive effect on our times together. Without being able to talk, all we could do was smile at one another and enjoy one another's company.

It really was a lot of fun.

29 February 2000--Hanoi, Vietnam

Today has been interesting.

It started with us trying to see if our computer would turn on. You see, last night we had quite a scare when we tried to power up our machine and it would not turn on. Several times we tried to no effect, and true panic was about to set in. We inspected the batteries and our AC adopter connection, finding everything to be fine, and tried it again. Remarkably, it turned on and functioned normally. We hoped to chalk it up to one of those unexplained computer anomalies that would not be repeated. No such luck.

This morning we tried to power the machine up once more and were somewhat frustrated to find that it would not turn on. Repeated efforts yielded the same result...the computer had failed.

So we added computer failure to our list of worries. We had been experiencing some significant technical issues with our website which compromised its appearance on the internet, but we were hoping that we were about to overcome them with our next upload. So we were already worried about that. Further, we had recently spent a lot of time adding new content to our website and hoped to upload it as soon as we got to Bangkok, as it had been close to 3 weeks since we last updated the site. But now the computer wasn't working so no upload would be possible.

Add to this our anxiety over receiving our Indian Visa, which we hoped to receive from the Indian Embassy here in Hanoi not later than Wednesday March 1. And receive it we better because we had already purchased plane tickets to fly to Bangkok on a 7:30pm flight that same day, as flights out of this city were ridiculously scarce and hard to come by. Indeed, it took 2 full days of scrounging this city and making innumerable phone calls before we were able to find the open seats on Air France to Bangkok. If we did not get our Indian Visa by Wednesday, in addition to potentially having to eat our plane tickets, we may be stuck here in Hanoi through the weekend; again, because all the flights were booked.

And even assuming we made it to Bangkok, we had the additional anxiety over not being able to timely get to India to meet our friend, Paul, because, of course, all the flights to Delhi, India were also booked. We hope this will change once we get to Bangkok, one of the transportation hubs of Southeast Asia, but there are no guarantees.

Finally, Kelly has, for the first time this trip, been experiencing a bit of stomach/intestinal difficulty. Obviously, that is to be expected from time to time, but the worrier that I am causes me to be concerned that it could be something else [no worries, she's back to normal].

So with this background, we are greeted with a non-functioning computer. Great.

Resigned to the fact that, for the time being, the computer was not going to work, we decided to head out for some breakfast. But just as we were about to walk out the door, we decided to call the Indian Embassy. 2 Go Global needed some good news, and perhaps it would come in the form of a visa. And we were in luck, as we were greeted with great news...the visas were here and we could pick them up! It felt good to put one in the "win" column. So now we could focus on the computer.

So after breakfast and picking up our visas, we headed to an internet cafe to send some emails to Dell. When we purchased our computer, we also bought an extended, 3 year, international warranty that promised next business day service at locations all over the world. Well, we were about to see how reliable Dell and its promises were. Detailed emails were sent to Dell, and contact numbers collected (they had no numbers for Vietnam, but do have personnel in Bangkok, our next destination), and we were actually feeling pretty good. We had resolved that no matter what, we would not let the computer thing get us down. We pledged to smile in the face of any technical adversity that might be thrown our way. We were traveling around the world, having a great time...how could we possibly justify worrying about anything other than our safety and health?

So after some lunch and some sightseeing, it was back to the hotel, where we are now. Then the moment of truth; would the computer power up?

Remarkably, it did. Hopefully, it will power up at least one more time--in Bangkok when we have a phone line and can finally upload and update our site. But it is still an issue that needs to be resolved if we want to continue with our website. We'll just wait and see.

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