Good morning, Vietnam!!

This morning I woke up, swung my feet over the side of the bed and whipped open the curtains of my hotel room. "Gooooood mooorrrrrning, Vietnaaaaam!" were the first words out of my mouth. Cheesy, I know, but it seemed to humor me in these early morning hours. I giggled all the way to the bathroom. Vietnam is full of culture. The locals are, for the most part, very friendly.
They can be seen slurping up Pho at all hours of the day. Pho is a Vietnamese soup with long rice noodles, meat and green herbs. It's served with bean sprouts, cilantro, Thai basil, chili and a lime on the side. It's difficult to find vegetarian Pho but I've succeeded in finding vegetable based broth and tofu substituted for the meat. I'm told from carnivores that this isn't as yummy as the meat version, but I thought it was delicious! The texture and mixture of these ingredients blend together nicely, creating an irresistible comfort food.
I'm currently in the town of Hoi An, known for being the place to get tailor made clothes and shoes. Tourists flock here just for this fact alone. The male travelers brag about getting a 3 piece suit tailor made for $125. I have no idea what it would cost in the US, but evidently the Vietnamese version is dirt cheap. The good news is that it seems to be great quality, too.

After my Robin Williams impersonation of "Good Morning, Vietnam!" I decided to rent a bicycle for $1 (gotta love Southeast Asia for it's affordability!) and tool around town.
First, I swung by the market where locals sell every kind of fruit and vegetable on the planet. I pick out fruit for my breakfast and barter for a good price.

Next, I stop at a shoe store and pick out a pair of sandals and ballet-style shoes to be tailor made just the way I want. The shop owner placed my foot on a piece of paper and traced around it. Then she measured around my foot and scribbled something down in Vietnamese. I flipped through a stack of swatches of material and chose what I liked best. That was it! She told me they would be ready at 3pm the next day. All together, I paid a measly $25. I was impressed!

Here they are:

My snazzy kicks

I pedaled through the relaxed town of Hoi An, soaking in all the sights. As I was passing by a little shop, a tube of toothpaste caught my eye, which reminded me that I was running low. I screeched to a halt and crossed over into oncoming traffic. An older Vietnamese lady is behind the counter. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and point to the toothpaste behind the glass. She retrieves it and approaches me with a warm smile on her face. She steps closer and clearly invades my comfort zone when she positions her face 2 inches from mine. I instinctively back away, but she puts a death grip on my forearm, forbidding me to squirm away any further. She's so close to me, my eyes can't even focus on her face. I feel cross-eyed.

tailor shop

She whispers, "I'm doctor of pharmacy, anything you need, I have." Her breath smells rancid and I feel light headed from holding my breath so I don't have to breath hers in. I wonder, "What did she eat?! She smells rotten inside!". Miraculously, in this cloud of putrid halitosis, I remembered I needed more aloe vera gel. I asked her if she had any. She didn't understand, so I wrote it on a piece of paper. She gave me a big hug and patted me gently on the back. "Oh, how sweet" I thought. She says "5 minutes" and pulls up a tiny plastic chair for me to sit on. I oblige. Then she walks over to my bike and, from the front basket, removes my pineapple and mango. She hands them to me and kisses me on the head, lingering for a while to smell my hair. Then she fixes my hair a little like I'm a treasured doll. "Ok, this is getting a little weird" I decide.

With much difficulty, she pedals off slowly with my bike. She didn't ask me if she could use it, mind you. Confused, I watch as she desperately tries to reach the tall seat. She's a typical tiny Asian.... and no spring chicken at that. I worry for her safety as she crosses the intersection, slower than a snail on fly paper, causing motorbikes to swerve wildly around her. Oh boy, what did I start?

I sit patiently on the tiny plastic chair, shaking my head, wondering if I'll ever see my bike again. I knew this was just another daily crazy travel story unfolding before my eyes.

10 minutes later, she returns. She produces a jar of Ponds face lotion from the front basket. Nothing even close to aloe vera gel. I tell her it's the wrong item. Once again, she comes uncomfortably close and repeats, "I'm doctor of pharmacy, anything you need, I have..... 5 minutes!" She begins to struggle with my bike as she attempts to gallivant off with it again. "Oh no! I'm not going through this again!" I thought. I adamantly refuse for a good 5 minutes before I convince her I don't want it anymore. At this point, it's clear that she speaks absolutely no English except the rehearsed line about her being a pharmacist, which is complete bull crap. I'm dealing with a crazy lady.
I asked her how much I owe her for the water and toothpaste, and she tried charging me 5 times what it should have cost! After much frustrating non-English communication, I ended up paying 3 times more instead. Whatever. I darted out of her shop as fast as I could, but not before she was able to plant a big kiss on my head again. I held my breath as she got close, hoping she wouldn't talk. As I pedaled away in a daze, I thought "What just happened? That was so strange." I decided she must have a touch of dementia. There's no other explanation, besides insanity.

As if my day couldn't get any crazier, on the way back to my hotel, the scooter in front of me was t-boned by another moped. There was a mother on the back holding an infant wrapped in a blanket. Both mom and baby flew off the back and tumbled violently on the hard pavement. I gasped. The mom whisked up the crying baby, giving some seriously evil eyes to the driver of the other scooter. The driver looked genuinely concerned. The mother was feverishly rocking the baby. I decided it probably wouldn't help the situation if I approached them and tried to help. I'm sure they spoke little or no English and a white person trying to see her baby would probably make the stress level even higher. In the US, we would be heavily fined and possibly have our child taken away if we were caught carrying him/her on the back of a scooter like this. It's sad that this is a common everyday activity for people in third world countries.

This was only half my day. Luckily, the other half wasn't quite as strange.
Gooooood mooorrrrrning, Vietnaaaaam!...... Sorry, I had to say it one more time. I mean, when will I ever be able to say that?P.s. If you're looking for a t-shirt that says "Good morning Vietnam!", there is no shortage of them in Vietnam.