In which we avoid being eaten by dragons and other general adventuring..

Well, I have been thinking I should probably update you on the vietnam happenings.. I think I left you with the creative restaurant tout in Nha Trang. We'll skip over Mui Ne briefly - there we hung out with some dutch girls and crazy brits, and took a jeep ride out to the sand dunes and fairy springs. Our driver decided his little lime green vehicle was king of the road, and his blaring horns let everyone know it! Halfway through he also decided that it was the party jeep, and belted out some pounding dance beats from the sub woofer located under Georgie's seat...

We explored and ate and snorkelled our way through Nha Trang, and then took off up into the mountains, where we discovered farms of flowers, strawberries, a delightful waterfall to play in, a silk factory, and other interesting things. 

Also this fellow:

I'm glad to report that none of us were eaten, but he did give us a start! the freakish fellow was several metres high and looped his way all around the garden in front of a pagoda - ostensibly to protect the Buddha within.

We also discovered the 'Crazy House'. It's kind of difficult to explain, but it really was like a (not quite finished) wonderland (of the Alice variety). We ran all over, in and around it for a good hour or two!

Then it was off back to Ho Chi Minh City. We did however sneak in a quick trip down to the Mekong Delta as well, based in the sleepy little town of Ben Tre (Vietnam, quiet?! yeah truly, more or less ;)). We took a boat trip around some of the river and canals, which was muddy and pretty and a different picture again of a village-y part of Vietnamese life. Everyone was industriously plying their little trades, but in a way that also makes you feel like they have all the time in the world.

How about spending a night on this little vessel?!

We slurped our final Pho, trundled back to Saigon, and away.. 

We've been staying with friends in Thailand a few days now. We've predominantly been cooking and eating, with a fair bit of singing and playing with wild but undeniably cute kids as well..

Off to Sangkla Buri tomorrow to visit more children!

A night in the life of a restaurant tout..

A couple of nights ago we discovered a mini-restaurant or stall in the midst of a night market in Nha Trang. It boasted a vast, pretty cheap menu - and all cooked in a kitchen about the size of a small trailer - with at least 7 people squashed in there. What we found most entertaining, however, was the tout - the dude at the front of the restaurant attempting to entice potential customers into the sitting down, eating and paying variety..

So, as a restaurant tout:

You begin the night hopeful, focused, committed to your task, dressed to impress. You smile, nod, beckon, gesture, flourish the menu, guide people in. 

Gradually the first few crops of people come through, the restaurant fills up, you swell with confidence.

The night builds, the dinner peak arrives, people are open and eager and easy to convince. The tables remain filled. You relax a little, maybe sit awhile. Maybe even sneak a bite to eat yourself. 

As the night begins to ebb, you redouble your efforts. 

You march to and fro, spout bits of english, vietnamese, russian.

You wave your menu. You wave it some more.

You dart from side to side of the passing crowds. 

You accost someone's girlfriend, earnestly thrusting the menu beneath her face. When that doesn't work, you grab her boyfriend and gesture and speak even more convincingly (you hope). Your voice rises to fever pitch.

You squawk with offended shock when you are refused, once again.

You twirl your menu,  walking into the thoroughfare with it spinning up on one finger. Perhaps if people are impressed enough they will eat here?

You attach yourself to groups and march backwards to stay with them longer.

You sit down for a moment.

You hold your menu on your head so that people can still see it (surely that'll still work!).

You drop the menu.

You light a cigarette.

You march again, singing, whistling, twirling, smoking, laughing, throwing a smile back to your amused onlookers. 

You repeat the above.

..I'm not sure that this guy was the most effective at his job, but he (and the tasty food) certainly kept us enthused enough to return a second night..  :)

Eat Duck Don't Die

We flew into Ho Chi Minh City (which most people still seem to call Saigon - more romantic, no?) just yesterday arvo - how awesomely squiggly is the Mekong just below?!  

 I don't think this is going to be a particularly coherent or informative post, but better than nothing, eh? Especially since I haven't posted anything in almost a year... whoa fourth year + Honours was a nasty brain-sucking beast!!! Yay! Brain has returned! More or less...

ANYWAY, Saigon.
-bikes. everywhere.
-oh and more bikes.
-on the roads.
-on the sides of the roads.
-whizzing up the alleyways behind/beside/around you!

First challenge (actually it's still a challenge, just less scary cos we've done it a few times and haven't died so that means there's more chance that we still won't die? Impeccable logic I think) : crossing the road.

After lots of time hanging out on the side of the road observing and waiting for gaps in the streams of traffic which never seem to arrive, we finally decided that you wait for the cars - but for the bikes? You just start walking. A moderate pace, not too fast, but not too cautious (otherwise you bring the bikes to a complete, perhaps mildly annoyed halt). You stroll bravely across the road, and the bikes (of which there are 15 or 20 to every car that you see) just weave their way around you. Like I say, haven't died yet.

Last night we wandered the city a little bit, watched the light fade over the Saigon canal, and finally hunted down a place where we felt confident enough to order food (it's a while since I've been in a place where I am completely at a loss about what to eat and how to communicate that..). Anyway, we found a place with pictures, and we were convinced by the friendly waiter to order the 'roast chicken'.. We settled ourselves into the little plastic street-side chairs, and looked behind us to see that the roast chicken was actually one of two elongated ducks, hanging in the window...

Interesting. We did think quietly to ourselves about how ironic it would be if we got ill on our very first night away, but we tucked in all the same! Fatty but delicious. Except maybe the brain, we weren't so convinced about that bit.. But we haven't died yet! Yay!

 I have more fun photos from today but I can't get them off my camera at present.. We spent the day wandering the city and entertaining locals/fine-tuning our road-crossing style/eating lots of noodles/discovering all things iced (it's hot!!)/being smoked out by incense in a pagoda/getting just slightly ripped off/finding hilarious exercise equipment in a park (must find a picture of that for you!!) and so forth..

There's still a lot of the colourful Tet (lunar new year) decorations around the place - tinselly trees, yellow flowers, bunting, banners.. There are trees to thin the concrete jungle, gorgeous pot-plant forests in crumbly old apartment balconies, and food! SO much food everywhere. I have no idea what most of it is, but it's great.

Off up the coast tomorrow! Tam biet for now!

J.

Tale of a Saturday Ride

Saturday afternoon on the bike path, and the sun is golden and the trees rush past, and I hear a beep from a passing station wagon and a friend waves heartily.

Cruising through the park three boys in footy shirts kick a ball around. I wonder briefly why one has turned away, then the light catches a liquid arch. Ok.

Turning down a quiet street, a granny watches patient from her tidy porch - the little patchwork world goes by.

As I pass a smallish figtree, I see a man, arms stretched to guard. A small voice cries,
"I can see the whole world from here!"

Another little person waves madly at me from the cosy grasp of mother's arms. Dad smiles,
"Hola".

A huge pom-pommed, blow-dried poodle trots by, owner in tow. I see a large man with a small dog, and a small lady with a large dog.

Among the rows of lonely boats, a cheery bunch of blokes enliven one craft - a tight rowdy circle, sipping their beers.

Down by the fish shop a mop-haired toddler dances on a grate while dad looks on.

I sit by the pearly water in my own mind as the waves crash and the sun ebbs.
The pebbled stone is warm beneath me.

Coming home two girls are faced away from the road, peering through a fence. One catches my quizzical glance and turns around. Lurching toward me, arms outstretched she intones,
"It's the end of the world", and collapses into giggling.

I laugh back.

Snowfun.

Last week (ok, so this is a little out of date now) I went on a trip to the snow with most of my family. It was a flippin' brilliant time.
We drove to Mt Beauty, where we were staying, on the Monday, craning our necks for glimpses of snowy mountains as we got closer. Was it really true? Could Australian-[small]sized mountains really grow enough snow to go skiing on? To warrant ski-lifts? The anticipation grew.
Arrival, and still barely a suggestion of snow anywhere about. We suspended doubt, and went and sent a local hire place into a flurry of activity, fitting out all 8 of us with gear.
Morning arrives, and we claw our way out of cosy beds, dilly-dally through breakfast and preparing lunch, tumble into the car with gloves, beanies, glasses, goggles, jackets, more jackets crammed in everywhere, and wound our way up the hills. Snowy caps began to emerge. Anticipation budded and shot. We chuckled at parked cars, coated in thick layers of snowy fondant.
We were here!! We purchased our lift passes, donned our skis, and headed up. The slightly more experienced of the crew headed off to tackle the slopes, while the beginners agonised their way through a lesson. Let us free! The freshly powdered snow beckoned.
Finally, we were off.
I snow-ploughed my way down the first few runs, and then gingerly began to get a handle on turning. I got really good at falling over. I wasn't very good at slowing down. But going fast feels so terrifyingly good!

Anyway, a couple of pictures:

Snow Angel!

The Crew

Gorgeous sunshiney day

Sun-setting on snowy slopes

Cheese!

Pete looking pro even while on his behind

Spot of cross-country

Yay!!

It was probably the funnest family holiday ever.

(Despite the fact that I slaughtered my ACL -anterior cruciate ligament - the one in your knee that you need to do the fun stuff.. but that's another story.)
And I can't wait to go again. (If I go before getting surgery, then I don't have to worry about snapping my acl again. Good plan?)

Q: What did the cannibal order for take-away?

In our house we always comment on how the conversation around the dinner table of an evening invariably turns to something mildly or majorly gross.

Bodily functions, more bodily functions, off stuff - squashed stuff - dead stuff... I can't even think what else, but it happens. HOW DOES IT HAPPEN?!

And then last night, I was at a friend's house for dinner and you know what? Grossness invades once again! and hilarity ensues.. (I swear I'm not the common denominator here).

Maybe we actually talk about this sort of stuff all the time, it's just that we only notice it at dinner..

Maybe eating food is actually a kind of gross activity and we're just not aware of it anymore, but it's still subconsciously connected to all the grossness in our memories and sneaks out in our conversation! (ok that's a long shot, I'll grant you that).

Maybe it's just that having everyone around, silly-happy-food-eating spirits bouncing off each other, that happens to be the right ingredients to create unsavoury conversation.

Maybe.
I shall continue to ponder this while dunking my scotch finger and sipping my tea.

And here's a tasty mealtime, from a little while back:

Oh, you want the answer?

 Pizza with everyone on it.

Fixing & Building

I kind of wish I'd posted a bit more during prac. I feel like there was a lot more I could have said about it.. I guess though there's always that trouble of what to say & what to leave out for confidentiality's sake.
Oh well, it's over now anyhow! It was super interesting having a prac in Mental Health. I don't reckon I'd want to work in it though.. or maybe not just that.
But it is what you make of it, as well. I was really inspired by a lady at my prac who spoke about how she used creativity in her rural health job - both creatively tackling problems, but also creative methods with people.. It was encouraging to hear how even though a health job - which can seem so structured and regulated and staid - can be made rich and varied and flexible.

I was also thinking lately about how I want work that isn't so much about trying to 'fix' people, but about helping build beautiful things - lives, families, and communities - and how the change in emphasis and perspective makes such a difference.

Anyway, now I'm back at uni, a prac-less semester this time around, so I'm beginning to think (or freak out!!) a lot more about assignments and lectures and readings and groupwork.. and put the dreaming about the future on hold. *sigh*.