Guilin 2

On our way to YangShuo, we pass rice fields. Depending on the time of the year, they are watery patches, watery patches with a few blades sticking up, verdant lush green, yellowing at the top (almost ready for harvesting), or just harvested fields. They are exquisite no matter what the time of year. This one is partially harvested.

Rice fields

Rice fields

Once in YangShuo, we board a boat for a cruise on the Li River which has some of the most beautiful, breathtaking views of anywhere on earth.

Li River

Li River

Li River

Li River

We return to West Street for some really excellent shopping. Here it is before the tourists arrived.

IMG_0136-1

One of the other places we go when we visit Guilin is Longsheng where we see the rice terraces and two groups who are counted among China’s 55 ethnic minority people.

Rice terraces

 

 

Here we see one of the Yao women, known for their long hair, demonstrating how she piles her floor-length hair on top of her head!
Doing her hair

next step

Finished!

Come join us on this or one of our other fabulous trips!

Famous in Vietnam

Have you ever wondered how my blog posts would sound in Vietnamese?  Me neither.  But you can find out by looking at these two links.

http://danviet.vn/68790p1c29/nong-thon-viet-trong-treo-thanh-binh-trong-mat-nu-du-khach-israel.htm
http://danviet.vn/74264p1c29/viet-nam-tuoi-dep-hon-hau-trong-mat-ban-be-quoc-te.htm

The writer of course asked permission to use my pictures and posts and he sent along this note:

These links include funny and amazing pictures that you took in Vietnam. Thank you very much for your help. I feel really grateful 🙂
Nice weekend for nice couple 🙂 I hope to see you in Lao Cai city one day. Please contact me if you have that plan
Peace,
Thu Thao

Gate in Forbidden City-- Hue, Vietnam

 

Vietnam & Cambodia this August!!

We are very excited about our upcoming tour of Vietnam and Cambodia. Traveling to this magnificent part of the world is a treat to the senses from the beautiful sights to the lovely music and the amazing landscapes. All this and kosher too!!!

You can find our itinerary here

and read about the tour here and here

Vietnam and Cambodia are photographers’ paradises. I am including just a few more photos, but I could have easily added another 50. Please come and join us on this fantastic tour!

My email is drsavta@gmail.com

Inside the grounds of the Temple of Literature


Traffic in downtown Hanoi


Walking beside rice terraces in the north



Girls talking in the market

Li River, China

If you are a person who likes art, you probably have seen Chinese landscape paintings that portray very tall, pointed mountains. If you are like me, you probably have thought that it must be a stylized version of the Chinese landscape that the artist was portraying. Well, in fact, the Chinese landscape does have tall, sharp-peaked mountains. They account for some of the world’s most magnificent scenery.

The same Karst process that formed the peaks in Halong Bay, Vietnam, formed the mountains in and around Guilin, China.

About an hour and a half from Guilin is the small city of YangShuo which also lies amid these magnificent mountains and along the Li River. Some of the best shopping in China can be done in the clean, attractive market at YangShuo that runs perpendicular to the river.

Market in YangShuo

Market in YangShuo

Once on the river, it is almost impossible not to gasp at the beauty of the landscape. Everywhere one looks there are magnificent landscapes.

Li River

Li River


Li River

Li River

While cruising down the Li River, one can see a viewing stand.

Viewing stand

Viewing stand

The viewing stand was built for viewing a production unlike anything I had ever seen before.

The Chinese director, Zhang Yimou known for films such as Raise the Red Lantern and To Live and Curse of the Golden Flower and also for his directing of the opening and closing of the Beijing Olympics, has produced a show on the river. The show is presented each night, often twice a night, and although it is not in a Chinese population center, the seats are always filled. The stand holds about five thousand!

Zhang Yimou, when asked to produce a show immediately decided that the best theater of all was the river itself and the ten mountains that surrounded the small inlet where it is staged. When the mountains were lit at the beginning of the show, it was a breathtaking experience!

The show depicts the life of the local people in their villages. It shows farming, fishing, and local customs.

Fishermen on the water

Fishermen on the water

The fishermen, on their rafts, move from side to side and raise and lower the red fabric making a beautiful impression.

The women (below), walking on catwalks on the water are wearing dresses that light up. They switch on and off the dresses in amazing patterns.

Women lighting up the night

Women lighting up the night

It all is accompanied by beautiful music. Aside from the magnificent spectacle the show is, the wonderful part is that almost all of the 600 or so performers are local people who had lived a rather impoverished existence and who now earn a significant amount of their livelihood performing in this show. What a wonderful project! And wow! It will take your breath away.

A digression about Peru

I have been extremely busy for the last 3 weeks, having just returned from South America. Now, 2 surgeries (one mine, one my grandson’s), two sets of guests at my home, one major surprise birthday party (my husband’s) and 9 days of mourning ending on Tisha B’av– later, I am about to leave for my next tour to the same area. So, instead of continuing with the saga, I want to tell you about something that happened during my most recent tour.

Our group was an amazing collection of people. Most were Australians with some Anglo-Israelis, some Americans, and others. They were intelligent and fun-loving and they behaved like one big happy family. Traveling with them was delightful.

One day we went to a town in Peru called Pisac. It is located in the Sacred Valley and it has Incan ruins and a beautiful market. While there, one of the ladies saw a skirt that one of the local ladies was wearing and she really wanted to buy one like it. I assume that she looked for it in the market, but she obviously didn’t find it.

She finally asked our Peruvian guide to help her buy it from the woman who was wearing it. Peruvian women wear straight skirts under their brightly colored, embroidered outer dirndl skirts, so when they reached an agreeable price, the Peruvian woman removed her skirt and gave it to our traveler. When she got on the bus and told us that she had successfully purchased the skirt, everyone laughed and also applauded. Then someone said, “Well, that’s great, but what is she going to say when she gets home and her husband wants to know what happened to her skirt.” Our traveler said, “That’s not a problem; after I bought her skirt, he offered to sell me his pants!”

Women in market at Pisac

Women in market at Pisac

Note the beautiful skirt. Note also that one Peruvian woman was carrying her pet llama and the other has a child who is carrying one. The people posing with the Peruvian women were members of our group, but not the proud owners of a Peruvian skirt.

Rona & Aaron’s Excellent Adventure, Part 9

To learn what came before this, go here

After the market in Bac Ha, we went to a village named Pho. No, not Pho. Pho? What? You’re confused? Welcome to Vietnam.

You see, Chinese (yes, I mean Chinese– bear with me) is a tonal language. People who try to learn it have difficulty with the fact that the same one-syllable word can have 4 completely different meanings depending on the tone used to say it. There is a flat tone, a rising tone, a falling tone, and one that goes up and down. Still with me?

OK, if you think Chinese is difficult, try Vietnamese. They have 6 tones. That same one syllable (the one they always use to illustrate it in both countries is “ma”) means six different things in Vietnamese, depending on the tone. So when we came to the village and I read the sign Pho (foe), our guide said “what?” and I said, “The name of the village.” And she said, “no, the name of THIS village (as if she had no idea of what I was talking about) is Pho (foe?)” And yes, the question mark is the best way to explain how the tone needed to say Pho is pronounced. So if you said, “Can we go to Pho?” she would understand. But if you said, “This is Pho” she would have no idea what you were talking about.

Anyway, this is Pho

Pho

Pho

This was my second time visiting Pho. The first time we were invited to visit the home of the mayor of the town. He was a wiry, happy old man who offered the men liquor and danced around his home with them. This time we went into the home of one of the villagers. To give you an idea of the cooking facilities in Pho, here is a picture from the kitchen.

kitchen in Pho

kitchen in Pho

Outside we were able to see the laundry hanging, drying in the clear mountain air.

Drying laundry

Drying laundry

More laundry

More laundry

The scenery around Pho was very beautiful. We saw little black Vietnamese pigs and lots of chickens and ducks. However, most beautiful of all were the people.

Women returning from Market

Women returning from Market

Children in Pho

Children in Pho

With agriculture being the primary source of income, children become very wise in the practical aspects of farming. This little boy, leading his water buffalo who was hauling a large log, gave new meaning to the phrase “…and a little child shall lead them…”

Leading the water buffalo

Leading the water buffalo

Pho was lovely. We enjoyed a wonderful day, returned to Lao Cai for dinner, after a short visit to the Chinese border, and the boarded the overnight train for Hanoi.

Next time we answer these questions: How long should one stay on Halong Bay? How does the cook on the boat respond when I answer his question as to where I am from? and What do Vietnamese think of the knives we use in the the west?

Continue the adventure here

Rona & Aaron’s Excellent Adventure, Part 8

For the previous episode look here

Early Sunday morning we packed up and left the hotel. We set out for Bac Ha, about 3 hours away, where the largest market for the ethnic minorities in northern Vietnam is located. We drove along roads that had huts and banana plants and rice terraces and lots of lots of life as people walked and biked along the roads. Children played outside. Older children in their school uniforms walked or rode bikes to school. It is a country on the move.

The market at Bac Ha is a place to buy all sorts of things. Local people come there to buy clothing, linens, sewing supplies, hardware, fruits, vegetables, fish (mostly dried), nuts, noodles, and meat– pretty much everything. They socialize and there is a festive atmosphere. They also buy that most famous household pet: the water buffalo.

Buying water buffalo in Bac Ha

Buying water buffalo in Bac Ha

Water buffalo are, of course, very valuable because they are the closest that most people get to mechanized farming equipment in most of Vietnam– actually in most of the far east. The water buffalo are domesticated and very gentle and friendly.

It was interesting to see lots of combinations of traditional and contemporary. We saw girls in native dress checking their mobile phones.

Looking for messages

Looking for messages

We saw people walking around wearing their motorcycle helmets.

Pink helmet-- and Flower Hmong dress

Pink helmet-- and Flower Hmong dress

We looked for interesting things to buy. We found silk sleeping bags– small pouches made of silk with a sheet inside that one could crawl into with an attached pillow cover. We found belts with zippers that when zipped up became small purses. We bought them from a little girl who was fascinated with my husband’s beard and with a big smile took out a comb and attempted to comb it!

Combing Aaron's beard

Combing Aaron's beard

As we walked through the market, we saw our travelers walking too, smiling and enjoying the sights and sounds. There are more pictures of this market in this post. It was a feast for the eyes.

After our experience there, we got on the bus and went to a local village. More about that next time when we answer these questions: Why can’t we simply say the name of the village? What does a normal kitchen in the village look like? and most important… what is the special significance in this village of the phrase “and a little child shall lead them”?

To continue the adventure, click here

Rona & Aaron’s Excellent Adventure, Part 6

For what came before, go here

We arrived in SaPa at the Chau Long Hotel. The hotel has a feel not unlike that of a German or Swiss ski lodge. There’s a fireplace that usually has a burning fire in it and we are usually greeted with hot apple tea. Of course, since our bus arrived a good half hour behind the first bus, the tea was already fairly cold, but the fire was burning and there was a lovely ambiance. It didn’t hurt that the clock display behind the desk had the time for Tel Aviv labeled on one of its 5 clocks.

Our travelers got their room keys and settled in while we checked out the kitchen and the room in which we would eat during the time we were there. We quickly unpacked the food that needed refrigeration and placed it in sealed bags in their fridge. I went with our local guide to the market to buy another big pot for cooking the cholent – a bean stew dish that is cooked on low heat for about 24 hours and is traditionally eaten on shabbat– (our other pot had a lid that was bent and loose) and a wok. Then I returned and washed the beans we had brought from Israel and started them soaking in the cholent pot. I went upstairs to the kitchen to retrieve our plata (hotplate) and the person in charge said to me, “No cook in room.” I thought she meant that the cook was not in the kitchen, but upon reflection, I realized she was saying that they would not allow us to cook in our room. On our two previous trips, the hotel had not allowed us to leave the hotplate plugged in continuously in the kitchen so the guides had taken the hotplate into their rooms and had the cholent cook there. She was saying that I would not be permitted to cook it in our room. Just as I was ready to object, she told me that they would plug it into the wall on their serving table in the dining room and leave it plugged in all night. And that is what they did. Later in the day, they diced all sorts of vegetables that we added to the beans and barley and then we added some soy protein in chunks that we had brought from Israel that were very reminiscent of meat. With everything added, the pot was full to the brim. We covered it with a towel and checked on it a few times both on Friday night and on Saturday and they were true to their word. No one touched anything and the cholent was excellent– but I am getting ahead of myself.

We had a decision to make. Since it was raining, I told the local guide that I would prefer to go to the village that was on level ground rather than the one that was down a long muddy hill. She said that she had checked and that the monsoon rains had washed out the bridge between SaPa and the village I wanted to visit. So, there wasn’t a decision to be made at all. To the mud!!

We boarded the two mini-vans and headed to the village of Ta Van. Ta Van is a beautiful and interesting place with lots to see. We drove in the rain, more than once crossing torrents of water that were flowing from the mountains on one side across the road and down to the valley on the other side. Often there were no shoulders or guardrails. But we made it safely.

Our vans parked and the village ladies were happy to greet us and accompany us on our walk down their road to the village.

Some of the ladies were wearing galoshes. Some were wearing sandals. Our people were mostly wearing sports shoes. I was wearing crocs. What all of us really needed were skis. The road was very very slippery. There was precious little to walk on that would give one traction or stop the forward motion of the feet. There was a little grass on the edges in some places and a few rocks, but basically it was walk and hope that the little ladies and older teens that were holding onto our elbows would be able to steady us. Fortunately, no one fell (my greatest fear.) Two years ago, only one person fell and my coat is none the better for it. Uh, yes, I must confess I am not graceful, but at least I didn’t hurt myself…

Walking down the muddy road

Walking down the muddy road

The village was very picturesque, although not beautiful in the purest sense of the word. It was exactly the way it needed to be for people to live in it and to earn enough to have food and clothing. They also made money selling their handicrafts to visitors, many of whom felt indebted to them for steadying them on the muddy roads and paths.

Villager walking on road with rice terraces in the background

Villager walking on road with rice terraces in the background

Some of our travelers took magnificent photos of some of the people. I concentrated on the animal kingdom. Here are some other inhabitants.

Mr. Water Buffalo (aka John Deere)

Mr. Water Buffalo (aka John Deere)


Ducks!

Ducks!

We saw the regional school where children from other villages also study and where they dorm during the week. It was a lovely, pastoral walk. As we made our way back to the entrance to the village, that road that we had descended loomed in front of us. Our local guide had called the smaller van to come and pick up our people, but it became mired in the mud, even as one by one people got off the van. Even with only the driver aboard, the van was stuck. With no alternative, we started up the road. When we came to a small building with a 4-wheel-drive car parked outside, I asked the local guide if she would find the owner and ask him if he would take us up the hill for a fee. He agreed and in two trips, he took those of us who were at the back of the group. His vehicle was filled with mud from our shoes, but I suppose he was used to it.

Ww boarded the larger of the mini-vans and headed back to SaPa. When we got back to the hotel, we were pleased to find out that the hotel will clean shoes free of charge and my travelers tell me that they did a fantastic job!

It was time to relax and prepare for shabbat. And what a shabbat it was! In a word: Perfect!

All about it next time…

Continue the adventure here

Rona & Aaron’s Excellent Adventure, Part 5

For what happened previously go here

It is Thursday night. Hanoi. A porter laden with suitcases and boxes arrives at the door of the train and as my travelers settle into their cabins, two at a time, he delivers three large and two small suitcases to my cabin. In addition, there is my coat, my backpack, and a couple of plastic bags that somehow accumulated in my hands. It took some time to put everything either up on the bed opposite me, on either side of the table between the beds, or under the bed opposite mine.

Once people were settled in and the train began to move, I am able to heave a huge sigh of relief, knowing that I am off duty until about 4:30 a.m. at which time I am to wake people in anticipation of our arrival in Lao Cai.

The train was clean and attractive and the train ride lulled me to sleep. Although I had set my alarm, one of the workers on the train came by to wake us before the alarm went off.

In a few minutes, everyone was up and moving.

The train stopped and I was the last off of our car with all of the suitcases etc. We walked along the length of the train, looking into the cars as we passed. Some had flower arrangements on the tables between the beds. One had lotus-shaped lamps. Some had six beds per cabin and not four. We finally emerged from the station to a dark parking lot in which were two mini-buses that had come for us and our luggage. My husband went with about half the travelers and our local guide who had come with us from Hanoi and held our train tickets in one of them and I got into the other with the rest of the travelers. As we began to pull out of the parking lot, one of the travelers said, “Where is my money belt?” In a second or two it became clear that it was not on the bus with us. I called to the bus driver to stop the bus, which he did. He and the others remained on the bus and I went with the traveler back to the station.

Lao Cai, 5 a.m.

Lao Cai, 5 a.m.

The station was dark. I did not have the tickets, hence no proof we had been on the train nor proof as to which cars we had occupied. In addition, I do not speak Vietnamese. At all. Fortunately, Lao Cai is the last stop of the train, so it was still in the station.

We walked past an office where there were several uniformed men. In one of my winning charades gestures, I gestured that the man’s money (rub finger tips with thumb) belt (point around waist) was on the train (point to the train.)

Apparently they understood me and a couple of the men walked with us to the train. We started down the length of it. It must have had twenty cars or more. We started at car number twenty and walked looking into the now darkened train. Fortunately, I had a sense of the variations in the cars and when I saw the car with the lotus-shaped lamps, I knew we were not too far. We finally reached two cars that were identical just as ours were, cars 5 and 6. I hadn’t realized that one of the men had a cell phone with him. To make sure, I gave him the number of our local guide’s cell phone. He called her and I asked her what number cars we had been in. She told us and we were right. Only one problem— the train was locked.

I think that Vietnamese people are truly kind because they did not want to give up. Apparently the same person who built the mini-hotel with only one key per room and no pass key had designed the train system in such a way that when all of the cars are locked, no one at the station has a key. Our heroes did what was necessary.

No, they did not saw through the wall of the train. They stood at the side of the door and put all of their weight on it and pushed and pushed, each time getting the door wider and wider open. It must have opened by just a couple of degrees and then one of the men was able to slip in. He went to the cabin that had been occupied by my traveler and he brought the money belt to the door. Aha, but he couldn’t get out. He had squeezed into something that was angled in, but getting out, he was confronting the edge of the door. Another, slimmer man then squeezed himself in. He then pushed the first man out and then he himself came out. My traveler was thrilled to receive the money belt. The Vietnamese were very happy to point from one to the other as to who deserved the reward money. In all, I think around $60 were distributed and all of us left the train very happy.

Those waiting on the bus were also happy and we quickly proceeded onward to SaPa.

The weather in the north of Vietnam, just at the China border, is cold in the winter and although the heat was on in the bus, the driver’s open window was blowing an unpleasant breeze into the bus. After a while I asked him to roll up the window. Once again, my ignorance of Vietnamese was all too frustrating. He thought I asked him to stop the bus.

As I looked outside at the landscape just a short time after dawn, I saw about 5 little pigs by the side of the road. I asked “would anyone want to photograph piglets?” A few people got out of the bus, took some photos and then returned to the bus. He started the bus and off we went.

Piglets along the road

Piglets along the road

But it was still cold.

This time I put held my hands on the opposite upper arms and made a shivering motion. He closed his window. We were warming up and on our way to SaPa. The rain began to fall.

Uh Oh… Our itinerary called for us to walk through one of the local minority villages this morning. They get awfully muddy. But there was still check-in and breakfast and cholent to get started. My worries about that could wait for an hour or two.

At last we arrived at the hotel.

Chau Long Hotel, SaPa

Chau Long Hotel, SaPa

Next time: What we did about the new hotel rules on using our plata (hotplate) and how “Slip sliding away” is a great song, but not the way one would want to describe a walk through a village.

To continue the adventure go here

Rona & Aaron’s Excellent Adventure, Part 4

For what happened previously go here

Having been sufficiently stunned by news of impending doom (i.e., our suitcases could be confiscated along with all we’d packed for shabbat and for other important parts of the tour), I entered the Temple of Literature compound and tried to relax. I thought of all sorts of alternatives to what we had planned and I knew that no matter what, our people were going to be well taken care of. We could bake bread, if necessary. I was pretty sure that beans and barley were available in Vietnam. We might have to buy large amounts of canned tuna to use for lunches to make up for the cheese and the peanut butter that would be confiscated, but we would be all right and our travelers would not even notice the problem.

As I walked through the gardens, relaxing became easy. It was beautiful, calm, tranquil — perfect. When I caught up with the group, they had just spied what was to be their first bride of the day.

Apparently, Vietnamese brides and grooms take full advantage of the period preceding the wedding and they go from place to place with a bevy of professional photographers being photographed in the outfits they have selected for that day. Like Chinese brides, Vietnamese brides often have more than one wedding gown– the traditional one (in China- red, in Vietnam, an Ao Dai in any color) and a white bridal gown such as those worn by brides in the West.

Here is the bride we saw at the Temple of Literature

Bride in Ao Dai

Bride in Ao Dai

We enjoyed a brief concert of Vietnamese music on traditional Vietnamese instruments and then set off for the Museum of Ethnology. There, inside the museum we saw colorful exhibits of ethnic minority customs, traditions, and dress and outside we saw models of homes and buildings of many of the ethnic minorities.

As the day wore on, the sun came out and Hanoi became very beautiful. And what did we see but more brides! Everywhere! And some of them were pretty adventurous!

After a visit to Maison Centrale, known to most Americans as “The Hanoi Hilton,” the place where captured US pilots, among them John McCain, were held, we went to Hoan Kiem Lake, a lake in the center of the city and were treated to a cyclo ride through the old city. The old city has 36 streets that were named for the crafts and trades that were located there. Although some of the streets still have some of those specialties, one cannot easily discern which street was for which trade or craft. One can, however, get the feeling of what it is like to travel at motorcycle/motorbike level in this busy city. You can see it here.

With the day quickly waning, I was getting more and more nervous about the suitcases. Even if I had figured out the solutions to my immediate problem, I really hoped that our people would have their belongings so that they could change their clothes and feel comfortable over the weekend. Since we were leaving at nine p.m. for an eight hour trip on a night train where we would sleep, our deadline for luggage delivery was all too critical.

My husband went to the restaurant to prepare dinner for the group while I went with them to the mini-hotel.

It is apparently called a mini-hotel not just because there are a small number of rooms and only one elevator, but also, I am guessing, because people use it only for a short amount of time. In fact, there were some lovely and wholesome looking young women dressed alike (black shorts, white blouses) waiting at ground level who one might imagine were in some way connected with the hotel. But I digress…

The purpose of going to the mini-hotel was to give people a chance to shower, change, and redistribute their clothing and personal items and pack only their small carry-on for our trip up north for the weekend. Taking the large suitcases onto the train was not a good idea. However, until the suitcases finally arrived, people didn’t want to shower, fearful they’d only have to put on the same clothing they’d been wearing for two days.

Our train was leaving at nine. The suitcases were not delivered until shortly after seven. Of course between suitcase delivery and the train there was distributing them to each room with only one small elevator and five stories of building and then collecting them again and then driving to the restaurant and having dinner. We were rushed.

The good news: ALL of the suitcases made it. The bad news: They had fastened a heavy plastic strip that held our largest suitcase closed and I had no implement to open it. There was no time. I decided to take all three of the large suitcases and our two small ones with us onto the train.

Our people were wonderful. Everyone was ready on time for the bus. They had left their suitcases outside their doors to be collected by the porters. We were out of the woods.

Or so we thought.

One couple said they weren’t sure where to leave their suitcase and they left it inside the room. When the time came to turn in the keys, they realized that they had locked the room with the key inside. I thought that would not be a problem, I went to the desk and asked for a duplicate key. The clerk didn’t understand me. I showed her a key and asked for another one and wrote the room number. She nodded no. I said “when you clean the room…” Of course, it was only later that I realized that most people staying there, maybe all of them, don’t leave the room and then come back. I had her call Mrs. Mai. I explained to her what had happened. Now I had two Vietnamese women who didn’t understand what I was saying, I believe. However, after the conversation, the desk clerk called someone and said, “wait one moment.” I am certain that when Vietnamese people learn English they are told that “wait one moment” means “this could take hours.”

I decided that my people needed to go and eat. I sent them on the bus to the restaurant. I assured the couple that I would not leave the hotel until their suitcase was liberated.

Finally a young man showed up on a motorbike. I assumed he had the key. I said to him, “You have the key?” and shook my head hopefully. He said, “yes, yes.” I’m guessing that when Vietnamese people learn the phrase “yes, yes” they are told it means, “I think you are a nice person and I would like you to be happy.”

The room was at the end of the corridor on the fifth floor. It was on the left. He walked down the corridor and opened the last door on the right. I said, “No, it’s this one.” He said, “yes, yes.” He went into the room and closed the door behind him. I thought, “Great! there’s an adjoining bath between them!”

He walked out of the room and said, “wait one moment.” He returned a few minutes later with an assistant and a tool box. They went into the room on the right. Then I heard loud banging– as if they were trying to break down the wall. It continued for a very long time. I waited. I sweated. I looked at my watch. I knew I had missed dinner, but how long could I stay without missing the train?

The banging continued. I sweated some more. It was 8:30. The train was at 9. I had no idea how far it was to the train station nor did I have any idea how much traffic there would be. I was cutting it very close. I called Mrs. Mai. I told her that the men were trying to break down a wall to get the suitcase, but so far, no luck. She told me that when the suitcase was finally liberated, she would have it picked up and brought to our other suitcases and that the couple would have it on Monday morning when everyone else got theirs. She called me a taxi and told him to take me to the train station.

I got into the taxi and I wanted him to know that I was in a hurry and so I wrote 9:00 on a piece of paper and apparently that was all it took to get him into Hollywood-car-chase mode. Ohmigosh! He flashed his lights, honked his horn, and drove on the wrong side of the street. As we reached the train station, I began to fear that maybe there was more than one station in Hanoi and I hoped we were at the right one. At that very moment, our big red bus pulled up and beside it I found my husband and all of our travelers.

Stay tuned to find out what happened to the suitcase, why I once again had to break down a Vietnamese door, and other exciting slip and slide adventures next time..

Continue the adventure here

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