Hoi An Old Town

Having lived for three months in a town most tourists zip through in three days, I feel I can offer something to the zipping visitor in the way of recommendations for seeing, eating and doing.  When you’re on a short holiday it’s always disappointing when you go to the mostly highly recommended restaurant and unknowingly choose their worst dish, or arrive at Lonely Planet’s suggested guesthouse, only to find they have since tripled their room prices and dramatically lowered the standard of cleanliness.

So, here are Fiona and my picks for this little heritage town.  It’s a personal list, the things we did, saw, ate and liked.  Even after three months, I’m sure we missed stuff too, so feel free to add your comments below.

Beautiful silk lanterns on An Hoi at night.

I have included prices in Vietnamese Dong (VND) and US Dollars (USD) where I could remember them.  Typically, the exchange rate is around 18,000 dong = 1 USD.

Where to Eat in Hoi An.

Shopping in Hoi An.

Sleeping & Getting Around in Hoi An.

Dos and Don’ts in Hoi An.

Photos by Fiona Jones.

What to DEFINITELY DO.

Here are a few things not to miss on your trip to Hoi An.

1. Take a lazy boat ride on the river.  Catch any tourist boat from Bach Dang St, there is a size and price to suit every budget and persuasion, shop around.
2. Red Bridge Cooking School.  One of the most professional activities I have taken part in in Vietnam.  And we made fabulous tasting local food ourselves – lots of fun and well worth the seemingly expensive $25 price tag.  Forgo breakfast, there’s LOTS of food – and they cater to vegetarians!
3. Pick up a copy of the little Live Hoi An booklet, a lovely monthly tiny magazine about Hoi An.  Lots more ideas of current things to do, bike rides out of town and the like.
4. Look out for the Full Moon Festival, once every month.  Take a boat (70,000VND) down the river at night and float a lantern on the water and watch thousands of candles making their way out to sea.
5. Also, keep an eye open for the once-a-year Dragon Festival.  When it’s on, you will know about it – drums beat every day for a week while the children practice for the big night.  Trucks of performers come in from surrounding towns to display their dragons and dancing on 10-foot high poles.

What to definitely NOT do.

Do not visit any orphanages in Vietnam (or any other county for that matter) with a tour group or as a tourist to have your photo taken with a disabled orphan.  Really, just think about the dignity of the person you are encroaching on before you join your tour group in going.

If you have a skill (English teaching, social worker, fund raiser, physical therapist etc) then scout out a local charity organization.  In Hoi An, if you would like to donate or volunteer your services to help orphaned or disabled children, contact the Kianh Foundation.

Do not purchase items from child street sellers.  The children sell whistles, bracelets, necklaces and other small ticket items.  They will usually tell you if you buy something from them they can afford to go to school.

Just so you know, there is a free school run by Lifestart Foundation that all of these children could attend, starting today, but their parents choose for them to work on the streets selling bric-a-brac to gullible tourists.  The children earn a huge living, even just selling two or three items a night, often meaning their whole family can live off the child who sells the most.

Want to really help these kids?  Donate to Lifestart Foundation education programs.  Slowly but surely most of these kids are gaining scholarships to school or places in the free school which caters to children who can no longer enter the government school system.

So then, can you buy from adult street sellers selling the same items or newspapers?  Sure, but just don’t get sucked in to the story.  The main income for these sellers is not the immediate sale of a newspaper or necklace to you, but the sale of a story typically about a health condition, their poverty or another family members problem which will undoubtedly take a lot of (your) money to fix.   I have seen so many tourists lured into these stories, some even opening bank accounts and providing monthly deposits of money.

It is hard not to want to help everyone, our ego often takes over when we see people less fortunate than ourselves.  We think it’s so easy for us to dip into our pocket and hand over a little of our cash which we think will make a huge impact on someone else’s life, so why not?  It’s only $5, $10, $50 – so what?  But there are larger social implications when you take part in this ad-hoc, ego-inflating form of generosity that need to be considered.

Hoi An has to be the most over supported town in Vietnam.  There are so many NGOs and charities here to help the disadvantaged, I can’t even count them all!  Every person in this town with a story, with a health issue is very well aware of the charities that exist here and that they can easily access free medical care, education for their children, training opportunities and support for disabled relatives.

If you feel so desired, the best way to help people in need in this town is to connect them with the relevant charity or NGO.  They will then be taken through the relevant process of assessment and will be given appropriate assistance for their needs.

Please think before you open your wallet (or bank account!) about the wider ramifications of your actions.

I’ll only mention a few places to shop in Hoi An.  You will notice (should you stray from the tour guided path) that most shops stock exactly the same thing.  This is due to the governments control of what shop owners can sell and where.  For example, if you have a shop in the market, you have a choice of only 12 types of shop you can open, and your stock is prescribed to you.

Buyer be ware – Vietnam is a bartering country.  I saw an American tourist pay $25 for a t-shirt I bought for $2.  Seriously.  If you don’t care, fine, but know that you can typically offer half of the original asking price and still know you’re not getting a good deal!

If you are visiting on a tour or with a guide, be aware that your tour guide will be getting a commission from every shop they take you to where you make a purchase.  Be independent and go to shops other than the ones you are directed to purchase from – you’ll likely find exactly the same item three doors down the road, for a much cheaper price as that shop will not be hiking up their prices for tour groups.

But really, how many ‘I went to Vietnam’ t-shirts do you need?  Here’s a few suggestions where you will find wonderful and unique souvenirs from your trip to Hoi An, while also supporting some great causes.

The Lifestart Foundation Workshop.

Lifestart Foundation Workshop

Shop 5, Viettown, 127 Phan Chu Trinh St

The Lifestart Foundation Workshop is a co-operative of disabled and disadvantaged people from Hoi An and surrounding areas.  Everything in the shop is made by the people in the co-op and 100% of your money will go directly to the makers.  The running costs of the shop are covered by independent fundraising by Lifestart Foundation.  This is a truly unique operation in Vietnam and well worth supporting.

Fiona with Nghi from Reaching Out in the childrens section.

Reaching Out

103 Nguyen Thai Hoc (next to Tan Ky House)

Reaching Out is another charity-based organization selling really lovely hand made products.  The shop does support disabled and disadvantaged crafts people, however they are on a set wage which is not effected directly by your purchase.  It is not clear exactly where the profit from this organization goes, but I feel that there is heart in this organization and a good will for the people it supports.

Fiona with the team at Lotus.

Lotus Jewellery

100 Nguyen Thai Hoc St

If you’re into sterling silver, this is the place to shop – frankly all the other jewellers in town are simply inferior in quality and service.  Phil and Nguyen run the show and are soon to open a second shop in town.  They stock wonderful hand crafted sterling silver pendants with designs such as the iconic conical hat and lotus flowers.  Just stunning.  Give them an Aussie G’Day from us.

Shop 45 – for all your clothes and shoes!

Hoang Deu – down near the bridge.

Huyen and her mother have to be the most reasonable shop keepers in Hoi An!  Their prices for shoes, clothes and bags are the most competitive in town.  Bring your favorite pants, dress or anything for them to copy, or bring in a picture of what you want made.  Forgot to?  Never mind, Huyen has piles and piles of fashion books you can flick through. Point to your favorite garments and come back and try it on in under 24 hours!  Having clothes tailor made for you is a fun experience – let your imagination run wild!  I had 50s-style summer dresses made for $18 each, Converse-style shoes made for $10 a pair and dress shoes made for $12 and $18 – and everything was made to measure!

COMMENTS

Had a wonderful shopping experience recently in Hoi An? Tell everyone about it in the box below!

There is lots to choose from in the food capital of Vietnam – Hoi An.  Based on my own experience, Hoi An supplies a far superior cuisine than any other city in Vietnam – a bold statement I can back up!  Eating vegan and vegetarian is easy in Vietnam and given my personal preference as a vegetarian, I have listed specific dishes which are especially for veggies!  Here are my personal pics.

Western/Tourist focused

Fiona with Sam from La Plage, the best chips in Hoi An and the best view is for free!

La Plage beach club.

An Bang Beach – An Bang beach is the local beach, away from all of the resort-going tourists at Cua Dai Beach.  Beautiful, quiet, pristine.  We had the entire beach to ourselves more than once and the water is amazingly warm.  Otherwise, on the weekends it’s a great spot to connect to and network with other long-term residents.

Directions: take your bike 2.5 kms along Hai Ba Trung St away from town, stay on that road till you hit the beach, it’s a straight line.  Take the left hand side car park, it’s free if you’re a guest at La Plage.  Walk to the right along the beach and you will pass banana leaf restaurants.  La Plage it the last on the right.  Say hi to Sam and Dennis for us.

At La Plage you will find the perfect beach side café setting, heaps of lounge chairs, great music, awesome views and the best French Fries (35,000VND) in Vietnam for sure.  Try the tofu curry with raisins, cashew nuts, coconut milk and rice (90,000VND) and ask Sam about her chocolate stash from San Fran.  You can expect frozen snickers and Nutella baguettes. Mmmm, Nutella…. A wonderful hangout any day of the week.

Fiona with Alberto - the real Italian deal!

Good Morning Vietnam – Italian Cuisine by a real Italian chef!

102 Nguyen Thai Hoc St

Wonderful fresh, hand made pasta in the middle of Vietnam, who would have thought!?  It’s a great break from traditional food if you’ve been travelling for awhile.  Try the pumpkin and fetta ravioli (135,000VND) or the minestrone (60,000VND).  The wine selection is one of the best in Hoi An.  Say hello to Alberto from us.

Fiona, latte, choc croissant, River Loung groovy couch-beds!

River Lounge

35 Nguyen Phuc Chu – across the river on An Hoi.

Great ambiance in their upstairs lounge.  The best café latte (38,000VND) in Hoi An, as voted by Fiona who has tried them all!  Try the chocolate croissants and lemongrass crème brulee.  Have desert overlooking the lights of the old town.

With Sandra, enjoying dinner at Streets.

Streets International

17 LeLoi Street

Streets International is a non-profit organization founded by Sandra and Neal.  The restaurant is set up as a 5 star training facility for disadvantaged young people from Hoi An and surrounding areas to come and learn hospitality skills including food preparation, serving and front of house.  The food is wonderful and the atmosphere in the café is so happy it’s contagious!  While the menu is largely meat orientated, the kitchen staff are always happy to do vegetarian twists on menu items.  The bread and butter pudding (45,000VND)  is a must try for those who miss their Nan’s home cooked deserts.  Eat heartily and know you are supporting some wonderful young people to pursue their dreams of international accreditation in a hospitality career.

Morning Glory

106 Nguyen Thai Hoc Street

This is a lovely restaurant frequented by the tour bus crowd, so we avoided it for two months, except to go and indulge in their crème caramel (18,000VND), which is one of the best I’ve ever had.  A fellow volunteer introduced us to the fresh rice paper rolls (45,000VND) which are the best I’ve tasted in Vietnam – the rice paper is made on the spot, not the re-hydrated kind served at most restaurants.

Cargo Club

107-109 Nguyen Thai Hoc

Head to this hang out if you’re hanging for some real, unsweetened fresh baked bread.  Their veggie burger is righteous, eggs benedict are perfect for upset tummies.  Lipton tea with sweet milk was also a favourite of ours.  All breakfasts are served with a generous basket of fresh baked bread rolls, fruit salad, tea or coffee and juice – definitely value for money!

Local Eateries  (AKA – cheap eats!)

Café 43

Trần Cao Vân St

This is a little local café, a favourite haunt of many of the non-Vietnamese residents in Hoi An.  Cheap, great food.  Highly recommend the vegetarian hot pot (60,000VND), it’s not on the menu, so ask the owners.  It is a generous serve for two people.  Also ask for some instant noodles.  This hot pot comes with tofu, vegies and salad which you roll up yourself in rice paper rolls.

With my fav vegan Pho soup - YUM!

Thien Quoc - Vegetarian Restaurant

130 Tran Cao Van St

This has to be the cheapest vegan eatery in the world!  The food is 100% vegan and most meals are 10,000 VND (around 30 cents).  You can get rice with fresh cooked veggies or a bowl of pho (noodle soup), cao lau and other local dishes.  Most come with faux meats, so don’t be scared to eat them, it’s typically textured vegetable protein or a variation on tofu.  They also serve fresh soy milk which is wonderfully nutty in flavour.

Eating my famous Tofu Rice - just ask Lien!

Mr Tung – hokker style, out door restaurant by the river

Cnr of Le Loi and Bach Dang St

This Sinagpore-style hokker centre is home to about a dozen tiny restaurants.  Each bench belongs to a different owner.  Although the menus are identical, the food quality is not – it depends entirely on who is cooking it.  We recommend Mr Hung, having tried many different benches.  Lien is the resident chef and she is both delightful and a superb chef.  We recommend the chicken rice (25,000VND), and you can ask Lien to make it with tofu instead.  Please say a big hi to her from us, she will laugh heartily if other people also order ‘chicken rice, no chicken’!

Street vendors

The following vendors wander the streets of Hoi An selling their food, which should not be viewed as inedible or dubious in any way – it’s all fabulous food which we eat nearly every day and have not had any tummy problems with.

Fresh, warm popcorn - ain't nothin like it! And you can take home an inflatable dolphin too - I did!

Mr. Popcorn Man

You will hear Mr Popcorn Man before you see him.  Listen out for a  Happy Birthday instrumental soundtrack.  Then you will see him with his mobile popcorn making cart, strung with inflatable toys.  The pop corn is warm, made on the spot, and drizzled with his secret caramel sauce.  Bags range from 2000-5000 VND, depending on how much of a tourist you look like!

Mr. Banh Bao

Mr. Banh Bao’s cart features the best of disco music, and they are the real tracks, not remakes!  So you can eat your Banh Bao and have a groove at the same time.  Banh Bao is a steamed sweet bread dumpling traditionally filled with pork and vegies or other meat concoctions.  Vegetarian Banh Bao are denoted with an orange dot on top.  If you are around town for a few days, let the vendor know and place an order for the next day.  Be sure to go back and buy your order though, as they will make it up especially for you.  Pay around 3000VND per banh.

Look at that smile! It comes for free with your tofu desert!

Mrs Tofu Desert

This little lady is a little more difficult to locate as she calls out her product in Vietnamese as she walks around the streets of Hoi An.  She carries her portable restaurant on her shoulders and sets up shop wherever she finds a customer.  It is a silken tofu desert, slightly sweet with a thin caramel sauce and grated ginger on top.  You eat it on the spot and return the bowl to her.  She charges only 2000VND, no matter who you are.

Mrs. Crème Café

This is a wonderful desert cart selling jelly-type triangles and a Vietnamese spin on the crème caramel.  Instead, you get a custard topped with a thin coffee sauce.  The jellies are multi-flavoured and multi-colour.  Deserts range from 2000-5000VND.

COMMENTS

Have you been to Hoi An recently and have something to add?  Please feel free to keep this post updated with the most recent information.  All comments welcomed below!

With Nguyen and the first family of JadeMosnters.

Miss Nguyen is one amazing woman and I feel most privileged to have been able to work with her.  If your day needs a bit of a lift, or you’re needing some motivation to get on with those new year resolutions, please have a flick through the following stories.  I hope Nguyen gives you the strength of heart she gives me.

Over the past few months I have had the pleasure of working with Miss Nguyen, a talented crafts woman working at the Lifestart Foundation Workshop.  Together we created the JadeMonster plush toy – the first in my new range of merchandise available from my website.

Nguyen’s Early Story - by Karen Leonard

Meeting Barry III, Nguyen and creating the JadeMonster – by Jade Leonard

Miss Nguyen’s Heart Warming Update – by Jade Leonard

JadeMonster logo!

If you have purchased one of Nguyen’s sock creatures, or a JadeMonster plush toy, please leave us a comment and give us an update on your new family member!

Sock creatures galore!

One day I was introduced to Barry III, a floppy lovable little creature made from striped socks.  Out of the bag, Barry was followed by half a dozen equally strange and adorable friends.  I wanted all of them, but I couldn’t have them – they were already adopted and heading for new homes many miles away from where they came.

At the Workshop.

Barry and his brethren are made by Nguyen (pronounced ‘Nwin’), a wonderful young woman who has been making and selling sock creatures for the past seven months at the Lifestart Foundation Workshop in Hoi An, Vietnam.  My mum, Karen Leonard, is the founder and director of Lifestart so I often check out the new stock as it is released.

I spent yesterday afternoon with Nguyen, her mother and sister-in-law at their home 10km out of Hoi An, Vietnam.  We were greeted with a table of fresh fruit and tasty custard buns – she knows me well!  I have spent the past few weeks working with Nguyen creating the JadeMonster, my very own range of sock creatures, so it was lovely to spend some time with her away from the workshop.

Nguyen and her mum at home.

Before Barry and the JadeMonster, life for Nguyen was a little different.  She lives with an inoperable condition commonly known as ‘a hole in the heart’, which renders her immobile 12 hours each day while she is connected to two large oxygen tanks.  Her condition often leaves her unable to leave her bed for days at a time.  Consequently, holding down a typical full time job in Vietnam (well in excess of the standard 40 hours per week we expect in Australia) has been very difficult for her in the past.

She needed a job that could be flexible in hours but also create enough income to cover her living and medical expenses.  Fortunately, Nguyen was introduced to the  Lifestart Workshop which creates income earning potential for women from disadvantaged backgrounds.

To begin with Nguyen made embroidered cards but her creative talents were soon discovered when a volunteer brought in a prototype for the sock creatures.  At first Nguyen – and all the ladies at the workshop – were very skeptical of the potential popularity of these weird looking dolls made from socks.  Sock creatures did not exist in Hoi An before Nguyen and her initial thoughts were that they were crazy and silly and that they would not sell in the shop!

These reservations were quickly blown out of the water.  Within six months the sock creatures have become the most popular item in the shop, selling as quickly as they are placed on the shelves (literally – I’ve seen her put one on the shelf and it gets adopted immediately!)  Nguyen has now broadened the range of her sock creatures she makes and everyone seems to develop an immediate favourite.

With the first JadeMonsters!

Since starting work with Lifestart, Nguyen has been able to purchase a motorcycle, greatly increasing her mobility and independence and her income has doubled, allowing her to fulfill her immediate goal of providing some simple comforts for her family home.  She can now work flexible hours depending on her health without fear of losing her job.  She takes home 100% of the money she makes from the dolls.  Some of the socks she is using to create the JadeMonsters are donated by a Melbourne based sock manufacturer, which reduces her costs considerably.

Nguyen comments on the improvement in the quality of her life.  She now has a wonderful support network among the other women at the workshop, her English is constantly improving due to English classes and her regular interaction with tourists and she greatly enjoys and appreciates the opportunity to work with and meet so many people.

JadeMonster logo!

To me, Nguyen’s sock creatures spread bundles of happiness all around the world – they each carry a small piece of Nguyen’s resilient spirit inside of them.  I’ve witnessed people from all walks of life break into spontaneous, glowing smiles when they see these creatures.  I am so overjoyed to have the opportunity to work with Nguyen on the JadeMonster.  Should you chose to purchase one, I only hope it brings you as much happiness as creating them does for me!

To have your very own JadeMonster, please visit http://www.jademonster.net.

Working 40 hours per week isn’t pleasant.  Working 60+ hours, even less so.  So I quit my music teaching job.  I left the family business.  Mum wonders who she can blame for my rebellion.  I told her Tim Ferris and his first edition of The 4-Hour Work Week.  She’s reading it as I write this.

I’ve read a lot of ‘wealth creation’ books.  I was part owner in seven properties, on my way to the dream of early retirement. I played gigs on the weekends.  I was working so many hours I would wake up with such little sleep some mornings, my day would start in tears.  Something had to give.

Fiona, rang me from work one day, telling me she’d bought The 4-Hour Work Week with a discount Borders voucher that had landed in her inbox.  She said it sounded interesting.  Once at home, I read it from cover to cover – three times.  I engaged the expertise of a lifestyle coach.  Then I quit my job and sold my share in the properties.  Finally, I felt like I had the right information, I felt empowered.  My dream felt possible.

Playing at Secret Garden, Vietnam.

For the past twelve months I have dedicated myself to my true passion – performing and writing music.  I have played in Australia, India and now Vietnam.  Next will be the Philippines.  I have released five of my original songs online, with five more to come.

Playing for the children at the local orphanage.

At the same time as quitting my ‘real job’ as a singing teacher, I employed a Virtual Assistant through elance.com.  Vipul is based in India and is worth his weight in gold.  While I perform in Vietnam, he is looking for my next gig in the Philippines.  While I develop a new line of merchandise for my website, he is sourcing distributors.  Brilliant.  I really can be in two places at once.

Playing at Kyra, India.

So now, I wake up every morning, well rested and energized for the day ahead.  All day every day I am creating.  Making music, making JadeMonster plush toys, bags, tees.  I can go to the beach any time I want.

Beach view, Kovalam.

Living currently in Hoi An, Vietnam, my weekly cost of living is reduced to $80 per week .  Yes, I live in a hotel (no cleaning or bed making), eat at vegan restaurants (no cooking) and ride my rented bike (no maintenance costs) for $80 per week.  As long as I earn $80 per week, I can sleep, eat and get around.  Any more than that and I’m saving, traveling, shopping or re-investing back into my music and merchandise products.

Sunday. Vietnamese coffee. Beach.

My New Way to Work is now far less complicated, almost entirely stress-free and 100% enjoyable.

Come and join me!

jade@jadeleonard.com

www.jadeleonard.com

www.jademonster.net

When mum decided to voluntarily give me the answer to this question, I was about twelve years old and she walked me through the standard text “Where did I Come From?” by Peter Mayle.  There wasn’t much more to the story than biology.  I share the same chromosomes and culture as my mum and nan.  I knew the house my mum lived in as a kid and where my nan was married and where my extended family resided.  I already knew my immediate ancestry came from Essendon.

Throughout my life I have often contemplated adoption.  I can remember, as early as the time I read the aforementioned book, envisaging my future family including children who I innately knew were not genetically connected to me.

I now find myself a short distance away from the possibility of being able to adopt – an exciting prospect for someone who has researched sperm donors, haploidisation and other ways of creating an ‘alternative’ family – whatever that is in relation to your perception of a ‘normal’ family.

Independent of my underlying interest in adoption, last week I was asked by a volunteer to perform for the children at a local orphanage.  I was delighted to be asked and looked forward to meeting the children.

The orphanage is home for 80+ children, both disabled and able-bodied. The disabled children attend school on-site while the other children attend the local government school.  Though government run, an independent charity provides additional assistance to ensure all of the children have a quality of life, are given an opportunity to be educated and have regular health care.

I performed for around 20 children with varying disabilities including cerebral palsy, downs syndrome and hydrocephalus.  Their enthusiasm and joyousness were entirely contagious – not only did I perform some of Vietnam’s favourite English pop songs, but the children also performed for me, songs in English, Vietnamese and French!  What a treat!

Trying to sleep that night became difficult as two scenes from the day’s events played over in my mind.

As we left the orphanage, our host was kind enough to give us a quick tour of the grounds and we were able to say good-night to some of the children who were going to bed.  In one room however, the children were out numbered by Konica Minolta wielding tourists crouching awkwardly by the children’s beds, smiling for their Facebook friends.  I couldn’t believe it.  As we left the bedroom, in shock, we were faced with another two tourists in their early twenties – camera in hand – asking where all the children were.  Unable to assure my own diplomacy, I kept my mouth shut.

Through no fault of the independent charity, the government officials who run this orphanage have turned it into somewhat of a tourist destination in an effort to derive donations – which the administration undoubtedly receive.  How much of these donations actually reach the children directly is unknown, but in my opinion fairly self-evident.

What I just can’t get over is that there are people who, whilst on holiday, actually want to go and take a tour of an orphanage and have their photograph taken alongside an abandoned, disabled child.  Why?  I’d really like that question answered because I just don’t get why you would want to invade the privacy and dignity of these children for even five minutes – for the sake of what?  A happy snap to post on Facebook to create the illusion that they’re so caring they took time-out of their holiday to visit the disabled children’s zoo?  Maybe I’ve spent too long in a tourist town, but the ignorance displayed by so many tourists is simply embarrassing.

My rant aside (I feel much better for getting that off my chest – thanks for reading), I was more personally stuck by comments made by another volunteer, on our walk home.  I inevitably broached the orphanage-as-tourist-destination question with her and this lead to a discussion about adoption of the children.

She passionately put forth the argument against international adoption for several reasons.  Many of the children of middle primary school age and above have developed extremely strong connections to their friends and carers, who are now essentially their family.  At the orphanage they have a sense of community, of culture.  They belong.  Children have been adopted from the orphanage, leaving siblings behind, breaking apart families, displacing identities.

When these children ask where they came from, though their biological parents may not be present, they are surrounded by their culture, the heritage of their country and their people dating back more than 4000 years.  Yes, four THOUSAND years.  As a resident of a country with a cultural heritage I do not belong to, I could never possibly fathom the impact of being removed from a life that runs so old through the veins of every inhabitant.

Is my desire to adopt altogether altruistic or am I pandering to my ego?  If I were to adopt, could I ever truly answer the question “Mummy, where did I come from?”.  What is ‘a better life’, what are ‘better opportunities’?

My Konica Minolta “we-just-came-to-check-out-the-orphanage” contemporaries probably gawk at the simple life so many millions of people lead here in Vietnam.  But the question needs to be asked, are they unhappy or discontented with their own lives?  In the case of orphans, to whose perceived benefit is it to remove a child from their family, their culture, their country?

These are questions I need to answer.

As a Western woman I have always had a concern for my appearance for one reason or another.  Weight, skin, hair, nails, clothes, shoes.  Not in a Sex and the City I-am-all-consumed-by-consumerism sort of way, but in the way that external self-analysis is almost impossible to be entirely rid of.

I have always wanted to be thin, but very rarely been.  As a teenager I thought that I would be more popular the thinner I was.  In my early twenties I felt that my physical size was an outward expression of my level of self-control.

My genetics blessed me with good skin.  I stopped biting my nails when I fell in love with Barbra Streisand (make what facial expressions you will…).  I’m still searching for a sense of personal style and when ever possible I wear shoes with sparkles – currently Slim Crystal Havaianas imbedded with Swarovski crystals (in all seriousness, I have trudged around India and Vietnam for the past five months and these thongs have very rarely been off my feet for more than an hour at a time – highly recommended foot wear for travelling, and much funkier than Tevas).

Now when I look in the mirror, I am still struck by my body size, considering I eat only two fresh vegetarian meals a day and am constantly zipping around Hoi An on my rented bicycle.  I rarely get close enough to the mirror to examine my skin, but I do notice the distinct colour difference growing between my upper and lower arm.  Having spent so little time in the sun in Australia, I have now developed a serious case of tan line, and not the bikini clad back-packer kind!

Yesterday I bravely went for a hair cut, manicure and pedicure, servicing my vain concern that my re-growth and nail polish were both at a point of being offensive.  I was struck by several moments.

My manicurist commented on the shade of the skin on my forearms, ‘so lovely, so white’ she said holding her arms against mine.  I’ve been paranoid about skin cancer and have always slip-slop-slapped in the harsh Australian sun, but I have never thought of my fair skin as any sort of asset.  Half an hour in the sun and I burn to the colour of a lobster. Consequently, I cover up.  In Asia my fair skin is seen as a testament to an assumed high-class upbringing, of one who has not had to work outdoors in the sun as a labourer but has had the luxury of staying indoors.  With fair skin, I must be wealthy and my life must be luxurious.

She grabs hold of my upper arm, almost unable to stop herself from massaging my bicep.  ‘Strong’ she says, ‘very healthy’.  I look at her slender arm, the same diameter from wrist to shoulder.  I think of all the clothes I could wear with skinny arms like that.  My ample body mass is seen as a sign of prosperity, my family having enough food to create additional muscle and fat on our bodies.  Apparently, it brings good luck to her family if she touches me.

While she enthusiastically cuts my cuticles, I try not to concern myself with thoughts of un-sanitised equipment and hepatitis contraction while also pondering how much this woman and I fantasise about trading bodies.  I would finally be able to buy clothes off the rack and have zero body fat.  She would be wealthy and prosperous, living in luxury.  The Vietnamese are such lithe people, their bone structure so much smaller than most Westerners.  For many of my friends I know this is both a mix of genetics and the struggle for most Vietnamese families to have enough money to buy enough food to eat every day, to find enough of a variety to provide all the essential nutrients for a growing body.

Andrew X. Pham in his book ‘Catfish and Mandala’ (a really wonderful and inspiring read) talks of his trip to the Cu Chi tunnels.  Having crawled through the purposely widened tunnels, for large Western bodies last week, this scene made me chuckle:

After half an hour tunnelling on our hands and knees, we escaped to the surface, gasping.  Another group headed down.  A well-fed British woman in her fifties was desperately wiggling into the opening.  Her male companion and a Vietnamese tour guide struggled to help her into the passage.  One tried to keep her from getting stuck, the other tried to keep the woman from falling through.  Standing next to us, two Vietnamese soldiers watched with amazement plain on their faces.  They were both about five feet tall and a hundred pounds – roughly the size of the Vietnamese Rat People who built the Cu Chi tunnels.
“How do Westerners get so fat?” one soldier asked another.
After due reflection, the man replied, “Eggs and butter.”  His companion nodded in deep agreement, both of them mentally calculating – the wealth – how many dozen eggs and pounds of butter it took to amass a three-hundred-pound body.

We envy each other for very different reasons.

Now I see why people have written so many songs expressing gratitude for India. Alanis Morissette’s “Thank U” comes to mind instantly.

Thank you India, thank you providence
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you nothingness, thank you clarity
Thank you, thank you silence
The moment I let go of it was the moment I got more than I could handle
The moment I jumped off of it was the moment I touched down

On arriving in India, when we were headed for our fateful stay at the ashram, Fiona questioned how anyone could find peace, solace and equilibrium in a place that appears so out of control, off its axis, chaotic.

I pondered this and responded that perhaps this was indeed the very best place to find the stillness we were both searching for.

I feel at home in Asia, strangely. More at home walking the messy sidewalks, dodging motorbikes, autos and poop than I do here in Singapore with the cleanest and neatest sidewalks I have ever seen – certainly rivalling those in Melbourne. Even the alleys and laneways are clean here.

Sure, it’s quiet here – there is a certain Prosaic peacefulness in the air (perhaps Valium in the water?) that allows one to actually notice one’s independent thoughts, but cities such as Singapore and Melbourne present no immediate external or sensual challenges.

To be aware of yourself crossing a road in Singapore is quite different to being aware of yourself crossing a road in India. No emotion is aroused crossing a road in Singapore – you will make it. If you cross the road in India, you are filled with an instant gratefulness to be still experiencing the joy of life.

India had me somewhat hypnotised, and I concerned myself with thoughts of my lack of creative production, not to mention my lack of blog writing. Now that I am out of her grip, I am better able to reflect on the myriad of lessons I learned.

The frenetic external bombardment I experienced in India was almost perfectly balanced by my brain’s ability to create such inner stillness and quiet that I really ceased to be productive. Not necessarily a state I would like to live in perpetually, but interesting to notice.

I would liken my internal state whilst in India to Philip Glass’ “Escape to India” from the Kundun album.

In a city of over five million people, I saw so many faces everyday. I am still naïve to the intricacies in the social tapestry of India. I am reminded of words by Sinead O’Connor:

Perfect Indian

He’s shy and he speaks quietly
He’s gentle and he seems to me
Like the El Farrow
His face worn and harrowed
Is he a daydreamer like me?

I don’t know if I can believe that if you hand one of these many faces the keys to their emancipation that they will simply throw them back in your face, as Aravind Adiga (author of White Tiger – a fabulous book, well worth the read) suggests. But perhaps centuries of expectation have ingrained an understanding into the psyches of “these people”.

I remember a scene while we purchased pasta and cake from a tea stall in 8th Main Road. A small child came up behind us asking for money, as many did. She was filthy and shoeless as they all are. We had made a decision not to give money to beggars, but given we were at the tea stall we were discussing buying her a samosa to eat. Two young Indian university students, also purchasing lunch from the tea stall, told the stall owner, a gruff older man with a decent paunch, to wrap up a veg puff and give it to the girl behind us. He flatly refused, once he knew the puff was for the child. “No. They will become expectant. You can’t do that with these people. You can’t buy her food”. “But she’s hungry!”. “No”. I looked at the child. Is she just one of them? I was struck by the scene of the stall holder who looked not at the child’s eyes, but at her matted hair and dirty hands, the young women who possibly saw a human element in her hunger and desperation, and us standing in our Havaiana thongs that could pay for a month’s worth of food for her and her family.

I will not be just another tourist who feels terrible about the child and signs up for a monthly donation to a largely administrative charity organization. I want to make real change. I’m not sure how just yet, but I’ll keep you posted.

But for now, it’s farewell and thank you to India for clarity and insight.

Indian Summer - Music by Victor Herbert, lyrics by Al Dubin.

The particular version I listened to was sung by Tony Bennet from his Unplugged album, which consequently has a brilliant duet with k.d. lang.

Summer
You old Indian summer
You’re the tear that comes after June-time’s laughter
You see so many dreams that don’t come true
Dreams we fashioned when summer time was new
You are here to watch over
Some heart that is broken
By a word that somebody left unspoken
You’re the ghost of a romance in June going astray
Fading too soon, that’s why I say
Farewell, to you Indian summer