If I were young, I'd flee this town

I arrived in Saigon on a white knuckle airplane ride from Malaysia. Taking a seat at the emergency exit I was in no way putting my life at the mercy of Asian queing policy should the unspeakable happen to the plane. It didn't but the zero visibility and lightening storms on touch down in Saigon Airport had e nearly kissing the tarmac in pope-like reverence.

Saigon is a hot, hot city with more motorbikes on the road than I've ever seen before. Crossing the road became second nature once I learned how to place myself in 2d form and dodge between bikes like a leaf in the wind. Walking around the city was fun but happening upon the irish bar was one of many mistakes I'd make whilst there. Needless to say that particular day ended in my waking up fully clothed, with a shaky hand grappling for the water/ibuprofen.

As cities go there are tonnes of things to see there but for me the most enjoyment was to be had hanging out in the park in the centre of the city watching the locals play keepie-uppie with a hackie sack. The simple pleasures I guess...

Having grown restless hanging out in city I decided to make my way to the Cu Chi Tunnels. That was a pretty amazing experience, seeing first hand the depths of Vietnamese ingenuity. Sadly there was the option to fire a broad range of guns there. Most likely guns used in combat, as the sporadic sound of shots rang out in the distance i imagined how it must have like to be in the middle of that all those years ago. 19 years of age in a foreign land here without choice, with no option other than to try there damnedest to make it out alive. The mostly male tourists using the guns now were strange echos of the men who were stationed here during the war.

The following day was the I'd been eagerly waiting, it was the day I was to visit the RoomToRead schools. Room to Read is a charity that funds a broad range of educational facilities in underdeveloped countries. This ranges from sponsorship of children, to the building of libraries and schools. I'd been volunteering with them in London for tha last year having read about their work online. Coinsidentally the man who founded the organisation was an ex-Microsoft employee. You can read more about John Woods and his book, Leaving Microsoft to change the World on the Room to Read website http://www.roomtoread.com. I was very excited about this visit as they are organised on set dates and there are only 3 dates open for the entire year for Vietnam . This sounds convoluted and it is somewhat, but I respect their need to minimise distraction and disruption at the schools. Anyway, this visit was one of my personal goals for this year. Something I'd thought about long ago and arranged as far in advance as any other aspect of the trip. This year is the 5 year anniversary of th London chapter and I was looking forward to sending them fresh photos of the schools they'd built.

I woke early and was ready to leave an hour in advance of the appointment. Taking the address I'd been sent from the US organiser( yes, all visits are managed via a contact in the US. No direct contact takes place between you and the schools.) I hopped on a motorbike taxi and nipped through the city. Bleary eyed I sat through the morning commute that is Saigons rush hour - hectic!. Arriving in plenty of time I hopped off and began my wait. 45 minutes later, having paced up and down the road I slowly began to realise that there was something amiss. In the end 30 minutes after the pickup was due to have taken place I decided to call it a day and make my way back to the hotel. I was truly gutted that this had fallen through, not sure whether it was an error on my part, a problem in communication lines with the school or just poor Vietnamese time keeping. In the end it was a communication error. They'd recently moved office and my contact had not received the updated location. Balls to that.

On the upside they have been very helpful and we are currently trying to organise another visit outside of the usual schedule just for little ol' me. So for now goal number 3 is in a postponed state. Ohwell!

All in all my time in Saigon was a great experience but I was glad to leave it behind. The boozey tourist culture is a bit over the top along with the seedier side of latenight clubs there. Somethings haven't changed that much since the war - "me love you longtime" as a quote is amusing, when heard for real its a little disturbing. I guess thats what I get for drinking in a bar called Apocolypse Now...

So I'll admit, I've been a lickle bit slack with the posting recently. Giving you more insights in to my own degenerate mind than into the goings on of my bodied self. So here's the latest...

Since leaving Hangzhou( did I write about that already? hmm if not I'll drop a post in later) I have met up with good friend Tom in Malaysia.

I arranged a cheap as chips flight with Air Asia from China to Kuala Lumpur. I know this goes against my original plan to travel by land as much as humanly possible but after the Belerussian visa fiasco I had to nip that rule in the butt. Anyway, rules are limiting. Boo to rules I say. Although I wouldn't go about saying that too loudly in Malaysia.

Arriving in KL 2 hours late I screwed my meeting arrangements with Tom. Actually everything about our meetup went belly up. My flight was delayed. Tom ended up getting pissed on the beers he bought for us to share on the train down to Singapore. The hotel we arranged to meet in didn't exist as it was in my imagination. In the end free KFC internet and my EEEPC saved the day. We finally managed to check into the same(!) hotel and proceed to celebrate our reunion.

Moving down to Singapore the next day on luxurious bus #1 we settled into a pretty cool hostel on the recommendation of an Irish girl we met on the bus. The tiny but friendly Melissa. Staying in Little India in SG was pretty slick. A true immersion in an Indian environment. This included everything from places of worship to the local superstore being called the Mustapha Centre.

Another indication that we were in little India was the fact that come three or four in the afternoon the streets would fill up with more Indian men than I have ever seen in one place. Infact I have never seen such a concentration of men anywhere, not even at Scissor Sisters at oxegen last year - maybe 200:1, man to woman ration. Ther very definition of a sausage fest. I did briefly think of emailing my friend in Mongolia, but then thought realised that we never got round to the whole email exchange thing. Aww too bad!

Singapore is a city that needs to be visited to be believed. Between the vast construction projects underway and those finished specimens already gleaming in the skyline. For me the highlight was standing at the foot of the Petronas Towers. A truly inspiring creation.

It was fun going out in little India. We met up with a deaf guy who claimed he was a writer/photographer with National Geographic. A guy with some amazing stories to be sure. But also a pretty strong penchant for booze which led to him becoming a bit of a dick by the end of the night. A Dream shattered, I'd always thought National Geographic writers would be like mini David Attenborough, almost floating on a cloud of blissful awareness and heightened dinner banter abilities. My suspicions became aroused when he started boasting about the women he'd slept with.

It was all fun though and truly amazing to meet up with a friend after such a long time. Tom went on his separate way on an early morning flight to Oz while I spent my last day in SG seeking out a luxury coach even better than the one we took from KL.

Needless to say the Tv mounted, reclining massage chair with our own trip hostess pouring drinks was a tad on the opulent side. But what the hell I was feeling sorry for myself being back on my own again..*sniff* ;)

Next stop Saigon..

I found myself listening to Bonnie Prince Billy(Will Oldham) the other day and was not paying too much attention until the following song came on. As I listened to the lyrics I began to smile and figured it was certainly worthy of a blog post. As corny as it is to have a musicians lyrics decribe you own situation it amused me no end to hear him croon along. (especially given the fact that Will Oldham is a little bit of a weirdo.)

I cannot say that I'm his biggest fan, but when visiting Brendan in Chicago 3 years ago I did go to see him in concert. I spent the evening listening to his new folk songs and also took the time to go up the front and take some photos. At one point I remember taking his photo and at the time him looking directly at me and smiling all the while singing along. It was a minor moment but a pretty cool one nonetheless.

Anyway, if you've not heard of him - go check him out. Alternatively you can watch the movie Old Joy. But be warned to the untrained eye its a movie where nothing happens.

Anyway, here is the song -

Oh, 'tis sad to be parted from those that we love
Strange faces we see every day
Each heart string of mine is broken in time
When I think of those dear ones at home

Goodbye dear old stepstone, goodbye to my home
God bless those I leave with a sigh
I'll cherish fond memories when I'm far away
To roam o'er this wide world alone

I stood on my doorstep one evening and morn
The wind whispered by with a moan
The fields may be whitening, but I will be gone
To roam o'er this wide world alone

Goodbye dear old stepstone, goodbye to my home
God bless those I leave with a sigh
I'll cherish fond memories when I'm far away
To roam o'er this wide world alone

And I stood on my doorstep when school time was o'er
And I wished for the time to go by
Now it has passed, and I stand here tonight
To bid this old stepstone goodbye

Goodbye dear old stepstone, goodbye to my home
God bless those I leave with a sigh
I'll cherish fond memories when I'm far away
To roam o'er this wide world alone
To roam o'er this wide world alone

Labels: my Thoughts

About 6 months ago called over to a friends house on a social visit. When I arrived Rory and I launched into our usual conversation i.e. media exchange.

"Have you seen..."
"Check this out.."
"This is the latest from.."

Anyway, Rory gave me a quick taster of a movie called Ghenghis Blues. As he went about making tea I got sucked into the film. The story of a blind blues singer who ended up teaching himself how to throat sing, progressing to a level which enabled him to compete in a national competition in Tuva and taking one hell of a trip to get there. Read more about the movie here "http://www.genghisblues.com/".

Needless to say the movie is pretty amazing! Not only for the story line but also for the wonderful sound which it exposed me to. On hearing this music I decided that it had to become part of my trip. While i wanted make my way to Tuva to hear the music, practicalities meant that I would have to make do with the Mongolian strain ( in all reality they are just regional versions of the same style).

My first night in Ulan Bator I managed to find a show (having spent many hours in the previous weeks searching online). I arrived at the gig early and having the time to spare went and got some food. I picked what i thought looked like something light. It turned out to be enough food to feed a small army - it was a challenge I chose to accept. I proceeded to stuff my face, intermittently gulping down coke to cool the inevitable burn from all those spices. In the end I finally had to accept defeat and roll myself out of the restaurant, head hung low. Thanks to my greed, ego or stupidity I was 5 minutes late for my gig of a lifetime( yes this even comes close to beating that Kraftwerk gig in the Olympia back in 2004) .

So I had to be ushered into a darkened hall and given a seat near the front, not a bad reward for my undignified behaviour inthe restaurant 10 minutes earlier. The theatrics around the show implied that it was targetted at tourists. But nevertheless it worked and quickly set the mood, as each performer came to the stage to do their piece the accompanying lighting work intensified the focus.

As soon as the first notes hit the air the mood in the room changed. I felt an electric charge skip up and down my neck and although completely focused on the performer I couldn't help myself from looking around at the other guests to see if they were experiencing what I was experiencing.

To give you an idea of the style of music I'm talking about take a look at the following clip. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DY1pcEtHI_w.

The music I saw on the night went even further than this. One musician at one point inverted his loudly projected voice, giving the impression that he was singing the exact same tune but was somehow now performing from deep deep down inside the belly of a cave. A true spectacle. Sitting there experiencing this show was certainly a pinnacle moment in my life.

Two things that save Mongolia from entering into my life book of Dislike & Disdain are its countryside and my experience of throat singing. If you *ever* get the opportunity to hear this music live jump at the chance with arms and legs a flailing. However, try not to gorge beforehand, sitting through the experience of a lifetime whilst bursting to go to the loo is not something I recommend.

Labels: travel

I have a few other posts pending at the moment, but this story on the BBC homepage compelled me to post outside of my queue.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/london/7487126.stm

Yet another 2 innocent people have been pointlessly killed in London. In what appears to be a bungled burglary two individuals have been robbed of the chance to live out their lives. It is beyond sad to imagine the infinite number of potential experiences of which they have been deprived.

23 - so young. London - so cruel.

New Cross, my home in London for half of my time in the UK. I walked those streets. I bought beer at stupid hours of the morning, I walked girlfriends to the bus stop confident that the city wasn't, "as bad as all that". I didn't hate New Cross, I accepted it as it was.

I think its the violence of this attack that shocks me most. While people will say that there is violence everywhere, that doesn't however excuse the act or reduce the sense of sadness every time I hear of yet another incident.

This kind of story highlights everything I hated about London, the persistent state of ill-at-ease in which you found yourself when moving around the city. I spent more times than is possibly healthy standing on tube platforms wondering if there was a psycho looming in the background readying themselves for a random attack. Paranoid yes, but trust me its out there - in all its festering glory. These 2 men were safe in their own homes when they were set upon, I'm not trying to spread fear, I'm simply pointing out that it *is* a fact of life in London. Trouble can and will come find you.

You may ban booze on the tube, (in what is one of the most token of token gestures I've seen in politics in a long while,) but how about tackling real crime. How much money will be spent on reports commissioned to highlight the success of this latest mayoral expression of genius? I guess it's not really relevant. These two young men are dead, killed in a savage fashion - robbed of the gift of life, deprived of the right to a peaceful death.

Looking back, I've never been happier to leave a place behind - even though moving there was one of the best decisions of my life.