15 November 2011

Thai Red cross Flood relief - some heavy lifting

Update: pictures on the flood situation 15Nov2011 here.

 Take a bag walk in a large circle and the bag is filled as you pass different stations.
Give it to the a group of 30 people sitting and tying the bags up.
Then a human chain laods about 100 bags into one of the HUGE trucks.

Load 40 kg bags of rice into a trucks from forklift pallets. Two man job.
I insist its always two men, no heroics, the young ones will try anyway though.
Ok, whatever.

Finally some REAL action and heavy lifting.
Enough sittinig and typing on my computer, I want to DO some REAL work, (yes ok: Writing is real work too.)

I've not seen any real action on the flood relief front - because as a foreigner I wasn't able to find it till now.
It's a'happenin' though, and with real gusto.
About 10 huge trucks needed filling, 130 volunteers mill around the Thai Red Cross.
Students, tiny petite girls, lanky  tall dudes, weatherbeaten veterans, the whole mix is here. Even a farang (foreigner) or two.

Its fun
There is a spirit of adventure and all joining in, everyone just looks for stuff to do and does it.
I only speak a little Thai, but the organization is kind of organic.It's easyto pick up. Monkey see, monkey do, stuff.
I'm the monkey.
People know the drill.
Ok, now we do the bag fill run again.
Then the human chain to fill the truck with water, with boxes, with bags.

The 40kg bags or rice are out of their league. "Da Boiyz" do those. "Two at a time", "Song Khon" I tell them in Thai. It's about the only thing I input into the process and they listen.

Still surprises me that people listen to me.
Then a young Thai explains it to me.
"It's because your old, they'll listen to you."
Ouch... there I have it  !!!
Ouch...!!!
I now have the seniority of age, I finally made it to that level.
I have felt things were kinda easier, people listened to me recently, esp in Asia.
Get older in Asia, seems a wise choice.

A thoroughly  enjoyable day, real action, witnessed first hand.

And I didn't get any funny stares or looks. Just turned up, did it.

I wonder about the process in Australia, I can just imagine it. Kilometers of forms, insurance, legal stuff to sign.
Here you just wander in and help.

Today I've found my balance in work: the recipe is: mental work for half the day, and physical work for the other half. Perfect.

----- Musings:
Why is something like that so enjoyable ? And working in a large bureaucracy/organization  is so deadening ?

This thing today is:
  • Temporary,
  • clear common purpose
  • freedom to choose your activity, 
  • spirit of adventure.
 Large org is:
  • Long term,
  • for money
  • you are a cog in the machine, 
  • caged dogs barking and  snarling at each other.... 
but then: the system is a product of its people. WE created  it. ...

hm... bears thinking about more....
Too tired to do much more now.

H

14 November 2011

stomach bugs, belly problems

If you ever have a stomach problem like this lady:

Dear Universe please let a truck stop, I think I need help arranging my funeral

My stomach gives up sometime during the night as I am camping during the season’s first frost and I lose track exactly how many times I have hurled. When the sun comes up in the morning, I pack up and decide to pedal into the closest town to look for a pharmacy or a place to die, whichever comes first.


There is an old non chemical way to deal with stomach bugs of all types that I've used in India 1978:

It's called the plunger system, (if you are squeamish stop reading here)  :-)

  1. you eat a lot of dry oats, or the Indians have just dry chaff,
  2. you eat it raw, no fluid, or as little as possible. 
The oats/chaff/dry stuff expands in your stomach, and moves down the system like a "SOAK IT ALL UP" plug.

works wonders (at least in my experience)
works when pills won't anymore

In Thailand they have carbon tablets to do a similar job.

hope you never need to try this

:-)


PS: the reason it works when pills and chemicals won't is that it's purely mechanical, you effectively create a big sponge that soaks up all the crud and moves it down and out.

With pills you have to get the right ones. If you get the right ones all is fine. But if you get pills for Amoeba's and you have the 'other' variety of bug, they won't help and vice versa.

Saigon 2011 Tao Da Temple
The Plunger works on anything. If it doesn't - time to call it quits.

11 November 2011

Golden Mount of Bangkok

the HUGE brass Gong fills the whole space around me.
the air shimmers and booms with shifting harmonies.
Booooooooooooooooooom, booooooooooooooooooooooooooom,
it vibrates all of your body, you feel it in your bones,....

The hot tropic air is cool up here, the Golden Mount, the highest natural point in Bangkok.
Thousands upon thousands of people shuffle up centimeter by centimeter, bodies against bodies, hot, human mass of bodies winding its way up and  around in a huge spiral.

I'm at the very top now.
Boooooooooooooooooooooom, boooooooooooooooooooooooom,
something dislodges in me, the deep vibrating sounds loosens something in me. All around is the vast sea of lights of Bangkok. Fireworks going off in the distance.
Boooooooooooooooooooooom, booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooom, the air shimmers,

I have no idea where the sounds comes from,
its in me and around me and through me.
Why do I feel like crying ?
Who cares, no one would notice and if they did they'd not think it strange.

People kneel in prayer around the most central stupa, - today and only  tonight, it is clothed in read cloth, illuminated by bright lights, it shines like a lighthouse for tense of kilometers.

The smell of cooking, drifts up, the sounds of the fair far off.
Everywhere, shuffle, shuffle, shuffle, but up here, it's cool and there is space to walk, on the roof  of Bangkok.

I kneel down, take off shoes, pray.
First issue..... oh... I know what to do.... hm... how come I suddenly just knew what to do ? Great.
Second issue.... I get a picture... about the situation, it describes it and I see what the best path would be... its a clear image, for the next 3-to-4 years ahead.
Third issues..... Yes, that will happen. No problem, it's ok.

Relieved I get up. Something happened, no idea how or why, but I feel different.
And then the long way down, it's much faster.
The path to the road takes 30 minutes,  shuffle, body to body, touching on 4 or 5 sides, squeezy, slow, smoke from the grills on the side drift over us.
Shuffle shuffle, shuffle.... .
But I don't mind, I knew this was the deal.
I knew I HAD to go to the very top tonight.
And that would be the price, I knew that.



---(O)---

I've visited Thailand since 1978, and today was the first time I'd ever gone up the Golden Mount.
The couple who run the Passport bookshop told me about Loy  Kratong there today.
When I saw it shining up there in the distance, I decided to go there, through the crowds and hours of shuffling........

Heiko Rudolph. (c)
Loy Kratong 2011
10Nov11 THursday,
Bangkok, Banglamphuu, Bangkok House.

10 November 2011

Bkk-Floods

Sunday 6th Nov, I joined a group of farangs and Thais to raise money for the flood victims.
We offered to wash windscreens at intersections around Bangkok.

details of how the idea started and what we  did are here
http://bangkokvanguards.com/wipe-the-tide/
then after a few days they wrote about how it's working, here:
http://bangkokvanguards.com/2011/11/07/wipe-the-tide-an-idea-evolving/


future events by this group on Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Wipe-the-Tide/209254372476047

9Nov11 Asoke Junction 13 pax, 3 hours, 33KBaht. :-)


Another group "Baan Arsa Jaidee" also found this method useful and joined in as well. Their blog is on:
http://www.baanarsajaidee.blogspot.com/

tomorrow I"m going to visit their HQ and ask about helping with the flood appeal.
I might be delaying my trip to Laos a little.

Ongoing fund raising from BannARsa Jaidee: by washing car windscreens here http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=242610212466029


Heiko

More details below for anyone really interested in the nitty gritty:
Baan Arsa Jaidee's Thai langauge main website (The government agency): http://www.arsadusit.com/



videos of windscreen washing in BKK.

What actually happens out on the street:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6pQtBScH0kU&feature=share


Talking about the idea:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b9ffgg78qls

--------------------
SUMMARY OF WEBSITES related to fundraising via windscreen washing:

Arsan Jaidee
Home page is:  http://www.arsadusit.com/
Ongoing fund raising by washing cars http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=242610212466029
more info http://www.baanarsajaidee.blogspot.com/


Michael's  idea of washing windscreens :
http://bangkokvanguards.com/2011/11/07/wipe-the-tide-an-idea-evolving/
http://bangkokvanguards.com/wipe-the-tide/
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Wipe-the-Tide/209254372476047

videos.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b9ffgg78qls
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6pQtBScH0kU&feature=share


Flood news and maps: 
Map from CS: thanks to JtG: 

http://maps.google.fr/maps/ms?msid=203278216882407399461.0004af623e23c9dccde11&msa=0&ll=13.748723,100.706177&spn=0.812362,1.454315

Tourist areas:

http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msid=210550963008557722983.0004b0e502d21dd2b1ec3&msa=0&ll=13.818744,100.579147&spn=0.436734,0.617294


Updates on situation in Thailand http://www.thaitravelblogs.com/

Pictures:

1. https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.289173864436462.71079.286840474669801&type=3

2. https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.291011427586039.71626.286840474669801&type=3






Info in English on Baan Arasa Jaidee: 
- click on pictures for full readable size.


29 July 2011

Myanmar in the rain

rain,
humid,
crumbling city
tea houses,
great places to sit and zone out.
smells sounds...
nuns in pink drift past.
My mind is full of things... to think about but no work pressure,
gentle nibbling of things I like to do, write....
man what a life....
can i do this for longer ?

21 July 2011

is this legal ? moral ? allowed ?

This guy loved posing for a picture, he really got into the fun of it all. a HUGE wok with prawns 21July Bukit Bintang area, Kuala Lumpur

writing from air asia LCCT KL: next to McDonalds is one of 2 or 3 power points that are not turned off or locked.
wifi is free.

I did my first real "on the road, writing my books" stint today.... worked really well. love this life....
I found an area in KL that is like the one I stayed in in Saigon, long term livable at retiree level, nice clean simple room, lots of cafe's and actions and a good vibe....
I reckon I could do this in almost any major city in SE Asia now... inc Japan and Taiwan... find retiree/backpacker area, settle in..... write.....

feels strange, here  I am wandering around the world wherever the wind blows while  others are "working"
I'm working too, but it's my kind of lifestyle and work.... finally after 51 years... :-)
feels like I'm cheating... shouldn't this be harder ?
shouldn't there be more pain and angst ?
is this legal ? moral ? to wander about on my savings and rental income... ?
amazing....

Kuala Lumpur - the journey begins...

12 months of leave without pay.... week 3: Kuala Lumpur, the journey begins....

I arrived in KL, the smell, the people, so different. ( 20Jul11 )
Something in me relaxed.
KL is nothing as clean or organized as Melbourne, but the tropical warmth, the smile on the people, - or is it just me ? Smile and world smiles with you ?

Something in me changed.
I'm more relaxed.
I belong here, - well right now, I belong here...

I wander the streets like a sleepwalker, soaking in the atmosphere like a man drinking water after weeks in the desert.
Don't know what I'm soaking in but it is something.
something like this:

A planet spinning around a gaseous ball doing nuclear fission in space.
For millions and millions of years things slowly move and grow. ....and then one day like a flash a whole lot of people are around, and a Heiko is born,  he wanders about the planet.
"Worry about old age, worry about jobs, worry about ...." his mind tells him....others tell him, he tells himself....
and in all those millions of years,.... this one moment,
this one instant, where Heiko writes this email.
This evening where he walks through the tropical atmosphere of restaurants and guest houses....
this evening is like none other, in the history of millions of millions of years.... and will never come again.
This moment, this evening, is unique, and will never come again like it is now....
and his little pea brain thinks he understands the why and wherefore's of it all.
This little creature with his money and credit cards and and computer skills thinks he's a shit hot dude .... (and he is in a manner of speaking)
But what does this Heiko really know ?
He is a part of all that is, and all that is is a part of him.
A grain of sand, on huge beach.... and one of billions upon billions of grains...
and that thought no longer bothers him... he's fine with it.

Every person he meets, he will never meet them again, each moment is unique, precious.... something about it....

when I travel and pass through a place like this... these thoughts come to me....
when i stay in one place... it leaves me....
I'd like to have that awareness 24/7 .... thats my urban monk's dream

Abba sings "SOS....." next door as I write this,
there is life and people and atmosphere all around,
The Unintterruptable power supply beeps every few minutes...
Gmail saves my drafts....
the planet spins around the nuclear fission gas ball,
Heiko types an email....
life
existence...
being....


friends told me my morroccan writings were really good.
http://heikorudolph.com/travel/morocco10.htm
they wanted more like that.
hm...there's a challenge.




.
m
y first born book of short stories #1
Tengra Ngiam

He operates on conscious patients, asks them to sing, walks the hills of Burma - Dr Naga, walking surgeon of the hilltribes.

'dance me to the children who are asking to be born....'  - Leonard Cohen


 . 
When I get too serious I remind myself of Music , life - & 'getting there'    cool career advice http://youtu.be/FY50vvMjX_o




06 July 2011

12 months leave without pay: week 1

I've turned 50+. If I don't do stuff NOW, I never will. 

Doing things "one day" is not going to work. One day == never. 

So I've taken a year off. Leave without pay for 12 months. 

Week1: 4Jul11 to 10Jul11
  • visit colleagues at former workplace, - very nice, we had the most fun and relaxing time in 8 years, drinking coffee together and just hanging out. Took me leaving to get us all together.
  • Write, copy Hard drive data, make backups of everything I have so far, in preparation for travelling.... . 
  • Visit my sister and brother in law in Tasmania, Hobart. :-)  7Jul11.
  • write, sort out my crap, 
  • love this rant about Myanmar :-) http://www.couchsurfing.org/group_read.html?gid=412&post=9339133
Week 2.... wait n see. 


01 June 2011

language of the country - what to learn

Saigon2011

Uncle haiko's method of learning a new language:

Before you go:

  • learn the numbers,
  • hello,
  • goodbye,
  • thank you,
  • how much is.... ,
  • please,
  • where is the toilet,
  • Where is....
  • How to say this in <insert language of country> ?

In the new country:

1) spend 3 days: make a list of all the things you would like to say but can't

things I found I had to learn:

  • "the bill please"
  • "the menu please"
  • "No ice. no sugar.... "
2) ask/pay a native speaker to teach you.
3) carry summary in pocket, - one A4 sheet of paper.


have fun. Enjoy, laugh, practice, ask for help...


The principle is: you only remember and learn what you need and use.


Lonely planet phrasebook, or any small phrasebook is useful.


I don't go for formal courses or lots of phrases.

31 May 2011

Hey we are humans first.... human warmth of Vietnam - continued....

30May2011 This evening I stood in the edge of the park next to the biggest roundabout in the center of Saigon, waiting for a Vietnamese friend. Motorbikes, cars, busses, traffic, people, noise, lights, a gentle drizzling rainy season rain.
I stand up on the ledge of the flower bed so as to be clearly visible.
On the other side of the flower bed a young University age Vietnamese lady walked past, smiling brighly.
I smiled back and she wandered over to talk.
"Where are you from ?"
"Australia"
Practicing her English I assume.
"Melbourne or Sydney...?" she really tried hard to remember the names of those two big cities.
Going through the "where are you from....? What do you do.... ?" routine usually makes me cringe. But the happy enthusiasm with which she spoke was disarming. Genuine and friendly.
"What do you ...."
"I teach Electronic Engineering....blah blah blah..."
"What are you doing ?
"Just playing" she says. I assume this to mean just wandering around to practice her English.

People who practice English sometimes use it as a front to sell tours or gems or whatever schemes.

That's not the case right now.

What strikes me most about her is that is she is genuine.
I'm actually shocked that a complete stanger, would simply smile and talk to another complete stranger just like that. It's me who has to overcome my cultural inhibitions.
She tells me in all earnestness about her dream, that she wants to learn Italian but has trouble finding people to practice with.
My friend now arrives. On a piece of paper, I write the name of a site where Vietnamese and foreigners meet in a safe, monitored space ( Couchsurfing.org Saigon group ). It is for people to stay with others on their floor or couches and it has a nice informal social group in Saigon - and most major cities of the world.
She might find italian or other other language exhange there.

What surprised me most was the simple human trust, not stupid naivety, but trust in herself, to judge who to talk to. The guts to talk to a total stranger.

I don't think it has much to do with me, - though then again I have noticed that even in a long line of people, beggars will often magnetically gravitate to me. Why ? Who knows.
As we talked all the Western warnings about strangers whizzed through my mind. I simply couldn't imagine his happening in my home town. I'm used to a guarded scowl on the face of strangers and someone asking me the time, makes me suspicious.
I remember something I read on Alastair Humphreys blog:
....I rode right across Europe and into the Middle East. Far from being the dangerous place I had always seen on the TV News, people waved to me as I passed, families invited me to stay the night in their homes or join them for a meal. I learned a crucial lesson about the world during those hot, dusty weeks: whatever governments are shouting angrily about, whatever extreme sections of society may be doing, the vast majority of people on Earth are good, ordinary people just like you and I. I rode through 60 countries on my circumnavigation, and in each country this held true. The world is, by and large, a good place. Traveling opened my eyes to that. .... from: Alastair Humphreys writing about adventure

After writing the earlier blog "Hey we are humans first.... human warmth of Vietnam" this is another one of 'those confirmations'.

Vietnam has had a horrific history of war, children are still being born deformed from the effects of the war. And yet, I can walk around this city and experience such things.
Amazing.

31May2011... update: the lady I wrote about above joined Couchsurfing and was pleased to see THIS blog here, about our meeting.
Small world.


29 May 2011

Hey we are humans first.... human warmth of Vietnam

in some places ....
in some place people still feel more REAL.

how are they more real ?

example: 
Saigon, Vietnam:
taxi to airport.
I offer the driver some of my favourite, chocolate bisquits.
"Oh, no thanks"
Ok I expected that.
He drives too fast, too dangerous, I don't like to see poeple hurt. 

I put my hand on his shoulder, make soft sounds, "sloooooowwwww"
He gets the idea.
His driving is calm, nice now. I don't fear that we will injure someone.
At the airport he fills in the taxi voucher for my Taxi card from work.
"Can I have a bisquit. I'm so hungry, can't drive anymore."
Sure, I give him the rest of the packet. 

There was no guile in him. 
He was being real. 
How do I know ? I felt it. It's real but not quantyfiable

At the four star Hotel in Hanoi:

"What do you do ?" (it's obvious I live in Vietnam)
"I teach Engineering."
"Where do you teach ?" 

etc....
genuine interest in me from the staff serving the buffet breakfast.
They have real smiles.
They talk like real people,
asking questions because they want to know. Not for some policy, or shut up because of some moronic corporate  policy.
I find out that the tall one is a student,
has no boyfriend, but will marry one day. 

They got up at 5am to serve breakfast at 6am. 
But not everyday, sometimes it's an afternoon shift ... . 
Lots of other stuff, - casual fun talk over breakfast to make the time more pleasant.
Yes, I'm the customer, and they are the staff, but, Hey! We are people, humans first.
Forgive me if I have a chip on shoulder, but I have the impressing in the developed rich 'civilized' world, I'd be dealing with professional employees toeing the corporate line first and a human being second.

Back in the developed world: I was stopped at airport security.
"What's that in your breast pocket ?" 
Metal detector had not gone off and it looked like a passport, in fact it WAS a passport.
I went into my antipathy to authority attitude, meaning: sullen silence. 
Handed over passport with the inner attitude of "here we go again, more moronic regulations just to let some wanker feel important"
“Hallo!” the guard said to me, - meaning, lets be human first, and say ‘Hi’, ok ?
“Hallo” I said, and I realized I’d been grumpy. I'd gone into "I'm in an anal retentive society" defensive attitude again.
That's probably not fair.
I admit this may be an overeaction on my part.
When in civilized countries, I tend to play my part in the dance of the 'moronic bureaucrats' very well.
As my friend said: you can't have one hand clapping.  

30May2011 This evening I stood in the edge of the park next to the biggest roundabout in the center of Saigon, waiting for a Vietnamese friend. Motorbikes, cars, busses, traffic, people, noise, lights, a gentle drizzling rainy season rain.
I stand up on the ledge of the flower bed so as to be clearly visible. 
On the other side of the flower bed a young University age Vietnamese lady walked past, smiling brighly. 
I smiled back and she wandered over to talk. 
Practice her English I assumed. 
"Where are you from ?" 
"Australia" 
"Melbourne or Sydney...?" she really tried hard to remember the names of those two big cities. 
Going through the "where are you from....?" routine usually makes me cringe. But the happy enthusiasm with which she spoke was disarming. Genuine and friendly. 
"What do you ...." 
"I teach Electronic Engineering....blah blah blah..." 
"What are you doing ?
"Just playing" she says. I assume this to mean just wandering around to practice her English. 

People who claim to practice English sometimes use it a front to sell tours or gems or whatever schemes. 



What strikes me most about her is that is she is genuine. 
I'm actually shocked that complete stanger, would simply talk to another complete stranger just like that. 
She tells me in all earnestness that she wants to learn Italian but has trouble finding people to practice with. 
My friend now arrives. On a piece of paper, I write the name the Couchsurfing site where Vietnamese and foreigners meet in a safe, monitored space. It is for people to stay with others on their floor or couches and it has a nice informal social group in most major cities. 
She might find italian or other other language exhange there. 

What surprised me most was the simple human trust, not stupid naivety, but trust in herself, to judge who to talk to. The guts to talk to a total stranger. 

I don't think it has much to do with me, - thogh then again I have noticed that even in a long line of people, beggars will often magnetically gravitate to me. Why ? Who knows.
As we talked all the Western warnings about strangers whizzed through my mind. I simply couldn't imagine his happening in my home town. I'm used to a guarded scowl on the face of strangers and someone asking me the time, makes me suspicious. 

I'm reminded of the stuff others like Alastair Humphreys  said 
I rode right across Europe and into the Middle East. Far from being the dangerous place I had always seen on the TV News, people waved to me as I passed, families invited me to stay the night in their homes or join them for a meal. I learned a crucial lesson about the world during those hot, dusty weeks: whatever governments are shouting angrily about, whatever extreme sections of society may be doing, the vast majority of people on Earth are good, ordinary people just like you and I. I rode through 60 countries on my circumnavigation, and in each country this held true. The world is, by and large, a good place. Traveling opened my eyes to that. from: Alastair Humphreys writing about adventure

After writing the above blog  "Hey we are humans first.... human warmth of Vietnam" this is another one of 'those confirmations'.



 

24 May 2011

the secret is: adults don't exist

Today I went for dinner with a colleague, her little 8 year old daughter and her grandmother. 
She told me something her daughter discovered. 
"There are no adults. They don't exist. They are really all children."
Out of the mouth of babes.....

I'm totally with her on that.

30 April 2011

33 years later

30Apr11 Saigon
Went for a 'get me outtahere' drive today - 
just took the motorbike and drove out East, following my gut instinct and curiosity,
over bridges and rivers, and down into almost empty land
lots of nature, trees, palms, and everywhere rubble and houses that had been bulldozed and demolished.

driving further I ended up directly opposite the fancy main street of Saigon, on the other side of of ther river. There was the Majestic Hotel.

On this side it was a slow , forgotten village, barbed wire for land that would be developed.
old men on motorbikes,
sleepy town,
dogs in the sun

women in the market looking at the foreigner on his motorbike.
Driving along the riverside, now on the other side are container ships, wharfs, and on my kids swim, 90% of the houses are knocked down,
ready for mega development.

There is something about this place,
the freedom, the motorbike, the space,  and the slow pace of life here, and just across the river, the hi tech, super intense Saigon.
the line from Hotel CAlifornia come into my mind.

On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance, I saw shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night
There she stood in the doorway;
I heard the mission bell

but it is more than that,
the atmophere the sunlight,and the knowledge that I'm free,
I feel like I used to feel at eighteen, travelling in SE Asia, the world to explore,
full of possibilities,
the invisible bars of fear had not hemmed me in quite as much.

And now at age fifety one,
, I remember this time and that same feeling comes back to me. It feels like a HUGE circle has closed.
33 years later, still trecking through Asia, exploring life,
nothing much has changed.
Full of questions
almost the same questions,
lots more experience.
but most of all an excitement about life and love of the adventure of it.
I've stepped out of the Hive, out of the organized implicity, asssumed, fears of what 'one should do' what 'one should worry about' and 'what is peer acceptable behaviour'. Fuckit all.

then it's back to central Saigon, cool airconditioned cafe with Yoghurt fruit salad and wireless internet, to send this by email.
Heiko

29 April 2011

bootstrapping your education: do it yourself English in Vietnam




I went to the Tango juice bar & cafe the other day.
I was greeted by a young university student working as a waitress. Her English was good and different. 
She spoke fluently, colloquial natural English. 
It was too natural to come from an "institution". She either spent time overseas, had a foreign boyfriend or something else...
I was curious. 
"where did you learn English ?" - I like to ask this. 
"By myself." 
"You mean you didn't go to an English School ? " 
"Yes." She looks a little hesitant, as though it was bad to admit this. 
"Wow, your English is great. How did you teach yourself." 
"Movies. I listen and repeat whatever I hear." 
We chat some more. 
Turns out she studies in English books like the "The Seven habits of successful people..."
She asks customers what the difference between five star and this Cafe is in terms of service. 
Her study area is Hospitality. 
At home she has paper and notes of English words everywhere. 

All this is self discovered. 
She does not have the funds for expensive English Schools. It's not the piece of paper she needs it's the ability. 
So she gets it. 
Herself. 
Movies, books, practicing with foreign customers in the cafe. 
Whatever way she can. 

She is not the only one. 
I've since met others, who do the same. 

There are English conversation clubs all over Saigon. 
Before I leave she asks my name. 
She's called Nhi. 

I can't imagine this level of informal exchange in a Western context. Maybe that's just me. 
And I haven't seen this kind of self motivation in many other places. 
Vietnam impresses me.

12 March 2011

the humanness of Vietnam: Nutella Baguette

Saigon District 1, Feb 2011

There is a place where they  have soup and baguettes even at midnight.
I have Nutella at home, all I need is a baguette and the walk will do me good.
I get my baguette at the end of Nguyen Du street for 3000 Dong (15cents AUD) and turn back along Ly Tu Trong Street, opposite Norfolk Mansion. It's 10:30pm. 
No one walks on my side of the street, just a lady dressed like a housewife walks in front of me.
"Hello"
"Hello"
"I come with you."
"I don't think  so"
"why not?"
"--------no answer---------"
"I'm hungry."
blah blah blah etc...

"Stomach small"
"I'll buy you a meal, but no money"
"Ok"
we walk some more.
"I come with you"
"No I don't think so"She is mid 30's nice looking, normal lady. I'm surprised she acts like this.  
"why"
"--------no answer---------"
"why"
"--------no answer---------"
"why"
"--------no answer---------"
"why you don't want me"
"--------no answer---------"
"I'm hungry."

Fine, let's see if she is really hungry. I pull out my baguette, give it to her. 
She takes it. No inhibition.
"Hang on", I take the baguette back and break off a bit for myself. "I'm hungry too"
She takes back the rest.
Well there goes my Nutella baguette, oh well....
We kind of go the same direction.
She holds up her bit of baguette, "very good"
I give her a thumbs up...
She walks along on the other side of the road and eats the baguette, we are heading in the same direction.
I duck into a convenience store.


we part ways...
21Feb11, Saigon


Yes you who must leave everything that you cannot control.
It begins with your family, but soon it comes around to your soul.
Well I've been where you're hanging, I think I can see how you're pinned:
When you're not feeling holy, your loneliness says that you've sinned.
---- Leonard Cohen, - Sisters of Mercy




04 March 2011

success stinks VS sour grapes

I'm a small time blogger, "and ah'm jes' doin' ma thang dude..."
And like all bloggers "I wanna get bigger, yea ....!!! "
I want lotsa people to read my shit ! 
I wanna see ma name up in lights ! Yea!!!

I looked around the blogosphere and I saw those successful bloggers, 
with their  HUGE traffic ratings on Google analytics. 
I'm jealous. 

I looked a little closer then
what was this glitz and ritz ? 
what about those ads that clutter up the space ? 
free ipod giveaways ? 
what's going on here ? 
Is this a shopfront or a blog ? 

it's corporate tactics, 
its 'win this, and win that' kinda shit, 
carefully crafted, cleverly designed, for consumer maximization,
that's just commercialization 

the hippy has sold out to the corporation
money talks 

if successful blogging means 
- "enter now to win this...and win dat..."
- flashing ads
- glitzy and ritzy websites 

- free this and free that and "hurry and enter now to win some crap...." 

no, thanks, that's not what I'm aiming at. 

I'm not at those heights (yet),
Now I'm a quiet little blogger 
Of course I wanna be read by millions... 
but my way:
no pushing 
no ads to suck you into my site
no ipod giveaways for you to win, nothin'to enter, nothing to get for free.
read my stuff 'cause you like it 
or don't 
that's it. 

if success is
Sea gulls fighting over bread crumbs, 
Monkeys fighting over bananas, 
I'll go another way... . 
       Sour grapes ? 
ask me in 10 years... when I'm big and famous....doing it my way, 
with no ads, no give aways, no greed based enticements...just good stuff for what it is.... 
It might look homely and dorky and a bit messy... 
and  it won't be everyone's cuppa tea... 
oh well, C'est la vie.. :-)

-- wow this has turned into a manifesto of sorts. hm.....

###  references: some of my thoughts were shaped by the writings below: or more precisely: I found confirmation for my views in the writings of others and then had the courage to say it :-)  

Recently I found myself at a Hindu temple in Darjeeling (India), surrounded by monkeys who displayed behavior not unlike that of members of my own race. The strong bullied the weak, the old were teased by the young. And mothers cared for and protected their children.
Life is thus. So it always has been. So it will probably always be. When it comes down to it, we are but a strange tribe of monkeys fighting over bananas.
from http://www.ruby-sapphire.com/buying-gems-at-the-source-dicks-law.htm




03 March 2011

on the street - Saigon

---o(O)o---
You know how some people leave a SUBJECTIVE  impression on you ?  
                        ---o(O)o---
By the wall, on the footpath, sits a Vietnamese woman, about 25 years old. 
Her hair is all over the place, she has no shoes, her clothes are rags. An old empty bag lies next to her on the ground. The skin colour of her feet and ankles tells me she hasn't had a shower for a long time. 
It's VERY unusual to see this in Saigon. 

I slow down in case she asks for help, but she is in a world of her own. 
"Hm... give her something ? 
Stop being such a bloddy  doooooo gooder Haiko  !!
Just keep going, you can't be helping strays and waifs all over the place." 
Looking back I see a Vietnamese man stop and give her some money.
I walk back the way I have just come and order a baguette from the stand on the road. A baguette with pate and meat and all vegies they put inside. 

Walking past her for the third time I hold out the baguette to her. 
She stares at it for a few seconds. 
I'm feeling silly, she doesn't want it. Oh well. It's my issue. 
Then she looks up at me, and her hand comes out. she takes the bread and very carefully puts it on the ground for later. 
Fine. 
I leave. 
End of story ?
Well sort of.
                   ---o(O)o---

You know how some poeple leave a SUBJECTIVE  impression on you ?
They have a personality, 
A flavour, a colour a  taste all their own. 
You  walk away and their character lingers inside you. 

Well  that's what happened with this lady. 
She reached out for the baguette, and her attitude, her energy, her personality was all in that simple action. 
It was not a bad impression, quite light, nice, gentle and fierce, smart and intelligent. 
Come to think of it, she reminds me of one of the characters in one of the stories I'm writing. Just a little. 

How come a meeting of 1O seconds  leaves a bigger impression of her personality than people I've met for hours or weeks ? 
Strange....
interesting.... 


Saigon bus

Looking over the big roundabout near Ben Thank Market Feb2011
When your ride a motorbike there is the danger that your right hand pulls too hard on the throttle. 
Your hand  is still on the handlebar throttle as the bike jumps forward.
That makes the throttle go on harder,
the bike jumps more, 
the throttle opens up more etc... and we get the jumping bike effect. 
Like a bucking horse. 
On a 50cc bike that is not such a problem. On bigger bikes it can be.

Because of the jumping bike effect  I have a personal rule to always always keep my right foot ready for braking on the foot brake. To never ever drive without the foot ready to brake.
Today I broke my rule.
There are petrol stations on the HUGE roundabout in Saigon, south of the Ben Thanh market. 
I filled up with petrol and pulled out with my little bike. 
I eased out of the petrol station, with just one hand on the throttle and feet hanging loose. 
The bike did the bucking horse thing. 
Right close to an oncoming bus. 
The bus slowed down, I veered away and all was fine.
I scared myself a bit.
I felt like an idiot, I felt small and stupid.
I expected a tirade of abuse.

Now in Australia I'd definitely get honking and abuse and shouting and head shaking and dark looks from the bus drivers.

In Vietnam I got a laughing bus driver, open smile, no anger. 
Wow.
Anything, anytime, are the rules of the road here. 
How the hell do you thank someone high up in bus, with traffic noise and in a foreign language ? 
I folded my hands in a prayer gesture and bowed to the driver. 
It is what people in Thailand would do. 
And everyone can get the meaning of it, no matter what language. 
We look at each other again laugh and drive off.

A Vietnamese friend wrote:
Because you are a foreigner. If it was me, he would have yelled the hell at me - Ph

Why do we worry about things that are totally unlikely and yet we all brave the much more dangerous daily traffic in the cities ? 


27 February 2011

tears

TET 2011, Ly Thu Trong

It's late, 10pm, an old woman sits on the footpath, next to a tree.
She is holding a sleeping eight year old boy across her lap.
Something is wrong.
I take another look, tears are rolling down her face.
She is dressed in simple clothes, old and nothing fancy.
She is crying openly, does not care who sees.
There are no people passing only cars and motorbikes with bright glaring lights.
I stop, embarrassed.
What to do ?
I give her some money.
She hardly notices, but then  takes it.
It makes no difference to her, but I don't know what else to do.

Ten minutes later I walk past her again, on the way to La Fenetre Soleil. She is still there, crying. 
I stop, put my hand on her shoulder, say a few words.  Move on.
Later I wonder, what else I could have done ?
"You could have sat beside her, held put a hand on her shoulder and just been there. Who cares about language at a time like that ?"
But I was too inhibited for that... money is all I could think of.... until after she was gone ....
Was the boy alright, he looked like he was sleeping, but maybe he was sick ?
I wasn't fast enough on my feet.
hm........next time my friend, remember, let your heart speak....

 9Feb11 Ly Tu Trong street, Saigon, D1,

 

Aswan, Egypt, Tombs of the Nobles