Friday the 13th

Friday, January 13, 2012
Posted by Tootsie & TwoLively

Somewhere along our travels, we lost track of the day of the week. We pieced together that today was Friday...as in Friday the 13th! We asked if that superstition existed in Vietnam, and our driver related that a few years ago a bus (like ours) with 13 people on it, crashed on Friday the 13th--and there was only one survivor. (Reminiscent of the Large Marge story...) We gasped, and did a quick head-count...and were pleased to realize we had 10 people aboard. Whew!

Urban Legends...not just for Americans!

As we were driving along, we noticed a funeral procession (we saw one a few days earlier and thought it was a New Years float.) Funerals are considered "good luck" in Vietnam (except if you're the unlucky guest of honor.) Driving a bit further, we saw a wedding (which looks crazy-similar to a funeral), which upset The Travel Agent, since weddings are bad luck. Fortunately, as fate would have it, we happened upon yet another funeral procession, and luck was on our side once more (but not for Tootsie...read the next post about her unlucky experience with non-toilet toilets.)

Funeral procession...

Today's travel time was supposed to take half the time of yesterday's trip... Instead, it was about 5-6 hours of washboard road fun! Tootsie remarked, "I didn't know there was going to be some mild bull riding." There was no rest for the weary; anyone trying to lay their head against the window to catch a few zzzz's, risked injury due to either blunt force trauma or shaken-baby-syndrome. We discovered that when our driver, Cousin, says "another hour" he really means another three hours or so!

Previously, we failed to mention that we've named our bus "Cu'a Thoat Hiem" -- the exotic name printed on our bus windows. We felt rather clever and proud, until we asked The Travel Agent, "What does it mean?" She laughed and told us: "Emergency Exit." So, there ya have it folks. We will be crusin' down the rough highway in our trusty friend, Emergency Exit (because that name is just plain funny!)  

Emergency Exit

Today we had "a comin' to Jesus..." Quite literally. Vung Tau is home of "Christ of Vung Tau" aka by the locals as "Giant Jesus." It's a HUUUGE statue! We slapped on our hiking shoes and off we went. The steps were either extremely close together, or wide apart--an uncomfortable gait, not made for the American stride. About 100 steps into the excursion, TwoLively said, "I don't think I can make it..." and Tootsie replied, "Good thing we are with Him, through whom all things are possible." That opened up inserting every corny, religious-based quip into the conversation that we could think of, like: "I never said it would be easy, I only said it would be worth it," and "Endure to the end." Halfway through the hike, we stopped for a water break, and we noticed there was a statue of Jesus with the Woman at the Well. It made us think of the scripture, "Drink of this everlasting water, and ye shall thirst no more." Somebody (MarcoPolo!) had the clever idea of giving Jesus a bottle of water to offer the Woman. We huffed and puffed, but we ALL made it to the top--817 steps--and we're happy to report, "There were no empty chairs at our table."

For those over-achievers who wanted to go the extra mile, there was another set of stairs inside of Giant Jesus (leading to the shoulder area.) Half of our group decided to go inside (Oz, TwoLively, Tootsie, Brother, Monte) and the other half decided to be lazy slackers (Glinda, MarcoPolo, Sister, The Travel Agent.) The stairwell had marble steps, short ceilings, and narrow passageways. The spirals seemed to be neverending--and when we finally reached the end, Tootsie exclaimed, "Thank you sweeeet Baby (Giant) Jesus!" (a movie reference to Talledega Nights.) The view was spectacular!

(Notice the water bottle?--Smack dab in Row 2)

After Giant Jesus, we toured a Fish Sauce Factory. We would include pictures, but the freakishly tall, gangly guard told The Travel Agent, "no cameras allowed." Apparantly, letting fish sauce spoil outdoors is a top-secret process, and they don't want anyone stealing their trade secrets. About a minute into the tour, Tootsie couldn't handle the intense aroma, and bailed out of the tour (remember she had the "tender stomach" aka "Monte's Revenge"/car sickness goin' on.) As she tried to exit, she was corralled into the unairconditioned gift shop that was attached to the factory, that smelled equally bad. To top it off, the same Vietnamese song blared over and over the loudspeakers (at least she thought it was the same song?) She kept pacing, desperately trying to find an escape route--while dodging a Fish Factory Attendant who followed at her shoulder, continually tapping and grunting, "Eh, eh?" while gesturing to dried squid and other delectables. Tootsie managed to escape, but the gangling guard hunted her down, and made her return to the gift shop of seafood horrors.

Meanwhile, back on the Tour, the rest of the gang speculated that perhaps no cameras were allowed due to the numerous health code violations that were noted. If you love fish sauce, here's where you stop reading.

The Fish Sauce pureed muck is placed in blue plastic barrels, uncovered, out in the open sun. It turns from ground-fish-brown to a rather strange purple color. Curiously, we noted there were no flies around. Perhaps it was due to the rancid stench--so bad that even flies didn't want to stick around? Oh, no. The tour guide told The Travel Agent, with great pride, that the factory sprays heavy-duty pesticides, which kills all the flies. We won't even consider the thought of this leeching out of the ground, and into the barrels... Another interesting thing we noted was the stagnant waste: a thick, visceral sludge juice, pooled in the next area...literally adjacent to the fish sauce. Kudos, however, to the woman at the sample station who donned a pair of food-handlers gloves before offering the samples. We tried pieces of fish dipped in Fish Sauce; it looked like crunchy, fried fish, but to our dismay it was jerky-ish...oddly chewy...not the best texture. But we politely gulped it down (and didn't ask for more!)

MarcoPolo wisely remarked that like Westerners, all tours end in gift shops...winding, never-ending giftshops. As we navigated the giftshop maze, we were trailed by the same Fish Factory Attendant, who tapped us with, "Eh, eh?" and pointed out heaping piles of dried fish something-or-others (previously declined by Tootsie.)

The last activity was Sand Sledding -- but like The Real World, this is the part when people "stop being polite, and start getting real." Since most of the travelers didn't participate in this event (leaving it on The Bucket List) it's a sore subject...'nuff said.

Red Sand Dunes...Sand sledders a few sand hills away...

Tomorrow's activity will be a Family Mud Bath, which hopefully will not be as creepy as it sounds.

Lunch: Oz's fish! Notice the stack of Wet Wipes on the table: most restaurants offer them--and, as we discovered, charge extra for them--so, we've stopped using them!