The art of doing nothing.

I can't remember when was the last time I sat around an entire day without checking my watch, but instead looked towards the sky and sunlight for an indication of time.

When I spend the longest periods sitting around in chilly winds and playing silly games, and when laughter accompanies my every meal.

When I gain the deepest contentment from stroking a cat, and a warm shower taken with a bucket and a pail.

India has stripped me down to almost the basics, and while the absence of urban luxuries took a bit of getting used to, I am now enjoying the art of doing nothing at all.

Jump first, think later.

It's only been two days, but it feels like we've been here in MICA for quite awhile, though not in a bad way. The campus is relatively empty as school doesn't start till later next week, but the people we've met have been very friendly and helpful.

We were invited to the wedding of the director's daughter last night, and while we felt pretty much like unwelcome visitors initially, we felt right at home once the faculty started coming up to us, and when Amit and Sumit came by.


The super-stamina musicians.


With all the colors and chattering of an Indian wedding.


The walkway to the wedding wonderland.


Color is obviously huge here. The more, the merrier.


A group shot of (l-r) Amit, myself, Sumit, Kash, Erwin and Nuria.


Heading out for hot masala tea in the chilly night.


Check out my amount of layers!


We bumped into Sumit and Amit at Chotta, the 24-hour cafe on campus, and we had crazy talk over hot masala tea in the chilly night.


Taking an auto (or what is pretty much like Bangkok's tuk-tuks) back to campus after a day shopping in Ahmedabad city.


Spot Erwin and I.


Found us?


We're getting along just fine. No desire to murder each other yet, haha.


Camel crossing.


The driver.


Gamely posing for us.


That's Sumit, watching the setting sun.


Driving (recklessly) off into the sunset.


MICA sunset.


While waiting for Nuria and Amit to join us back at the campus, Sumit read our palms. According to him, I think a lot (can't argue that), will marry a husband who is better looking than me, have one marriage and one child, to whom I'd be an over-protective mother. Hmm. And yes, he said that I'd have heart complications later in life. Sheesh. Maybe I should drink more red wine.

On a different note, the director's dog Roxy roams the campus freely, which ain't good news for me, especially as it's a full-grown German Sheperd. However, I managed to get around the fear to sit with Amit in the chilly evening with the dog between us as we contemplated religion and yoga. Not bad an improvement huh?

From the land of incredibles.

So after a very pampering Business Class (free upgrade hah!) flight, and a frustratingly long time at the baggage counters, we stepped out into Ahmedabad, where very very nice MICA students came by to pick us up from the airport. Here's their way of baggage storage - atop the vehicle.


A group shot outside the hostel with a friend of the MICA students. Amit's his name, I think? I would think he's what a typical Indian heart throb would look like.


Due to some wedding going on, we would have to make do in this jail-cell style room for the next couple of days. Dirty beds, dirtier toilets and funny insects... I am so gonna kiss the bed at the international hostel. And the heater. This is what I see while on my painfully unclean bed. Talk about waking up to an inspiring view...


After waking up countless times in the increasingly cold night, we awoke finally to brilliant sunshine, thank goodness.


What I assume is a typical day's lunch in the MICA canteen, except for the small portion which is my own doing. The food's surprisingly nice, quite like what I like.

And just for a rustic beauty snapshot to chase away the ills...



We're invited to the director's daughter's wedding... so off I go to formalise whatever clothes I have.. and to jump into yet another shower.

P.s. For the promised update on Indian men - some are looking pretty good! Stubbly. HAHA.

Saigon, the city of motorcycles.

Day 1

After Phuket last year, I knew better than to have high hopes for this trip. Moreover, Vietnam - Ho Chi Minh City in particular, hadn't exactly been a place I'd been dying to visit. And it was precisely this "take it as it is" attitude that I think got me through the trip. No expectations, no disappointment.

The many foodies in the family ensured that we stopped for an authentic Vietnamese lunch before checking in.

Pho, pronounced as "fur" with a slight lilt at the end, is found almost everywhere in Ho Chi Minh City. While we have fast food chains like MacDonald's, Burger King and KFC peppered all over Singapore; the Vietnamese have Pho chains.

How to eat pho:
1. Season soup with extra condiments if you please
2. Add cut chillies for an extra kick (and boy, do these chillies kick)
3. Add veggies, basil and mint leaves at your discretion

Lunch was digested with a quick city tour. First up was the Post Office, a pretty impressive building with interiors that reminded me of English train stations. Just across the road was the Notre Dame Cathedral. Our guide, Van, mentioned that the guy who built/designed the Eiffel Tower designed either one of these buildings. Can't quite remember though, and I don't seem to be able to find any information online either.



A church built to look like a temple. Talk about religious harmony.



We had time to squeeze in a "not shiok" massage and a quite jaunt about our district before dinner.



Check out this sign we saw whilst walking around our hotel. How realistic.

Ho Chi Minh City ain't called the City of Motorcycles for nothing. Zebra crossings and traffic lights are but forgotten ornaments on a Christmas tree.

Dinner was at a cafe serving Vietnamese street food (imagine Lau Pat Sat as a cafe) for the guide thought our stomachs wouldn't be suited for the real McCoy.

Day 2

We took a trip out to visit the Cu Chi Tunnels. Armed with just simple spades, the Viet Congs dug through the hard hard soil to create these tunnels which are over 200km long. The tunnels housed a hospital, bunks and even a kitchen. We got to try crawling through one of the 40m tunnels, already enlarged for tourists, and oh boy, I can't imagine having to go through 200km!

The Viet Congs also set up plenty of traps, like this one:

And here's an illustration of how the trap actually works.



Bomb shells.



Vietnamese Viagra anyone?

I'm neither a history nor military buff, but this trip out sure was an eye-opener. I am really quite impressed by the Viet Congs, and their sheer ingenuity. While the US soldiers brought their dogs out to sniff the Viet Congs out, the latter preempted and avoided capture by wearing the uniforms of the US Army to throw the dogs off track. And the tunnels? Digging and crawling through them - no easy job I can assure you.

The solemn morning was soon put aside when we made a trip to the Ben Thanh Market for a spot of retail therapy. I didn't get any pictures, but it is like the cleaner, less chaotic and less eventful sibling of Chatuchak Weekend Market in Bangkok.

Dinner was at a tourist trap restaurant, where waiters threw and caught claypot rice. I couldn't get a clear shot for I didn't want to risk blinding the waiter (and the people around him) with my flash, but look really closely and you may just see him in action.



Worth a mention however is the massage parlour just across our hotel. An hour of bliss that really worked out the knots in our shoulders and the aches in our feet. It was also, we soon came to realise, one of the few parlours that did not offer "extra services".

Day 3

I gave the war museum a miss and set off for Ben Thanh Market again instead. There was only so much of group travel I could take. I emerged a few hours later a lot poorer, with plenty of Lonely Planet travel guidebooks and a suitcase to boot.

Walked around the district (again, I know). This time, I gave my wallet a rest and set about working my camera instead.

Streets of Vietnam. Kinda pretty huh?



The Opera House. Seeing it makes me think of Lea Salonga and Miss Saigon.

Dinner at the seafood place was pretty cool. Not that I thought it justified the return visit on our last day.

Day 4

I thought I'd never make it to my free and easy day! There aren't many shops worth visiting around the hotel, so I set about taking in the sights instead.

Breakfast at Dongdo Hotel. Looks pathetic I know, but the baguette's pretty amazing.



A coffee shop. Not a kopitiam, but a shop selling coffee.

3 June 2007
17:18 hrs
Black Cat Cafe

"A stolen moment at last.

Here I am in Black Cat, a cafe just around the corner from the hotel. I'm neither thirsty nor peckish, but I'm nursing a Vietnamese iced coffee and a slice of cake, to better relish the temporary freedom.

I'm not entirely sure I'm in a cafe or bar, but I'm the only patron right now. The decor's pretty different, and they are alternating techno with French pop on the speakers.

Ho Chi Minh City... better known as Saigon. I'm coincidentaly in the middle of the chapter on Saigon in Anthony Bourdain's A Cook's Tour. This city definitely isn't as commercialised as Bangkok or even Bali; perhaps because tourism doesn't quite seem that big here. It's my fourth day in the city, and I feel like I'm ready to say goodbye.

I wouldn't say the place is ugly, for the buildings do have a certain French flair, and even the dilapidated ones seem to have aged with class. Like French women, haha. Neither would I say the city lacks history or culture, for there are quite a few museums and the whole Vietnam war story.

Yet, I don't feel compelled to explore or get to know the city. I don't look up at the sky at sunset to have my breath stolen away. I don't have the urge to whip my camera out every other minute to immortalize a moment on film. There's art, dining, architecture.

And yet, I feel like I'm just passing by."

Shortly after I wrote the entry, Manh the waiter stopped by for a chat. Vietnamese in general aren't quite as proficient in English as compared to the locals in tourist influx-ed places like Thailand and Bali. But while the conversation was shaky, I had a pretty good gist of his life story.

He grew up in one of the provinces in the Mekong Delta, and came to Ho Chi Minh City 8 years ago to make a living, despite his preference for the rural. Farming in the countryside just couldn't make ends meet. And here he is, 8 years later, juggling two jobs and working 16 hour days, 6 days a week. He spoke to me of his ambition, of how he wanted to work in a "big hotel" for he felt that employees were managed more professionally, and how he wanted to be able to save up enough money to buy a plot of land somewhere in the highlands. Grow some coffee and tea.

The conversation made me feel extremely fortunate to have my seemingly mundane life, yet it made my spirit feel so small. At my lowest points, when it felt like no one could have had it any worse than me, I was wrong. Somewhere out there, people are struggling physically to make ends meet while I had it all laid out in front of me.

It's been a trying 10 months. Laughs have been hard to come by, smiles were sometimes forced, and the aches sometimes threatened to overwhelm. Yet, it has been an enriching 10 months as well. Travelling so much has really opened my eyes and my mind, and I think I have grown to be a person I prefer over the previous me.

Apart from knowing the world around me better, I've also got to know myself a bit better. Somewhere along the way, I was enlightened; moments of wisdom that seeped into my subconscious. Life is all about perspective, and perspective belongs to me.

I've also learnt, somehow, that the best way of dealing with pain is to accept it instead of running away from it. I've learnt to appreciate not just the beauty in happiness, but also that in anger, pain, fear and disappointment. Each moment in life cannot be relived, and I have learnt to appreciate the moment, be it a good or a bad one. And the world seems so much lighter.

A quick shot with the cousins (Glenda, Bradley and Petria) before heading out to dinner, which along with the day's lunch, ain't quite worth the mention. The meals weren't bad, but I would have gladly exchanged that for a crappy French meal. At least I would have had French food in Vietnam!

Day 5

It was time to leave Dongdo Hotel behind and head out to the Mekong. This is honestly the part I've been looking forward too. Boating on the Mekong - a traveller's dream.

The gang at the lobby, celebrating Aunty Pat's birthday.



On the road. She looks pretty cute in my sunnies eh?



I like this series of shots.



A sleeping Glenda, snapped by Bradley. As much as she gets to me sometimes with her kiddy nonsense, the feeling of having her lay to sleep on my lap is indescribably heartwarming. And when she asked to sleep on my lap on the return journey from the Mekong tour, I melted.



Construction that is, according to Van, advised by our very own MM Lee.



The Mekong route.



My first glimpse of the Mekong.

Our first river stop was a fruit plantation where we had the sweetest tropical platter. It was here that I fell in love with pineapples.



Post-fruits Vietnamese folk songs.



I like him.



This isn't the Mekong tour. We're actually the new cast of Survivor Vietnam.

And so we saw exotic fruits and watched how coconunt candy was made.

We then hopped on a horse cart to the bee farm. The latter wasn't fantastic, but the ride was awesome. All we had to do was pray that the horse not fart into our faces.

Post bee farm - rowing boats to take us back to our boat.



Yep, a leaking boat in a river of crocs.



My Mekong hero.



Told you it's Survivor. Picture courtesy of Auntie Sab.

How to eat an Elephant Ear Fish

1. Deep fry it till crisp
2. Cut it up and place in a rice paper roll, atop veggies, mint and what nots
3. Roll it up and bite.

Quite the looker huh this young boy?

The unrelentless Mekong sun.




Fishing houses on the river.



Bradley, my Vietnam life support.







A couple of shots I took from the coach of the passing scenery. Tinkered with sepia tones for the second, and I really do like the reflection of the trees in the third.



Don't believe it when people tell you how Bangkok traffic is bad. Vietnam brings traffic chaos to a whole new level - it's bloody suicide.



We had to get off the coach and walk to the ferry to Cantho because of the jam. Not bad a way to take in Vietnamese life eh?

A ferry not just for people, but for trucks, lorries, vans and motorcycles too.





Finally, a decent sunset.

Aboard the thrill motor, whizzing through Vietnam traffic to our hotel.

And I thought these mating dogs were conjoined twins.

We ended our last night in Vietnam with a super crappy massage in the hotel. It was sleazy, unprofessional, and I felt like badly marinated chicken chop. Bradley even had an offer for a massage for his "baby".

Capped the night off with complimentary cocktails at the hotel bar with Bradley. I don't know about him but I got a little tipsy! I've always lamented that I don't have a cousin my age, but it seems like we hit it off pretty well. Well enough to chat way into the morning. Bad news for our 5.30 a.m. wake-up call!

Day 6

5 a.m. and the cars and motorcycles are horning. 6 a.m. and the sun's all bright and cheery. A gorgeous sight that even a bleary-eyed me couldn't deny.





The bustle of activity on the Mekong at sunrise. We were up this early to catch the floating market.

One of my favourite shots.

The floating market on the Mekong Delta. This picture makes me think of Sing to the Dawn, the book by Minfong Ho. It's set in Thailand though, but there's this whole rustic charm about it.

Balancing act.

Traffic was on my side, and we had about an hour to hit Saigon Square and its fabulous shopping I missed when I took off to Black Cat Cafe on my own. $5 Mango tops and $14 Mango bottoms. I was in retail heaven. A shopaholic's idea of a good sendoff.

It has been quite the ride I don't think I'd want to relive for awhile.