Avoiding white slavery…

I got a sweet email from my bank telling me that due to fraud in Vietnam, they have “placed a block on all signature based transactions” here. Thanks, you wankers.

More details about my birthday - god I loved those irish folks. Up until then, the people I had been traveling with were pretty different from me when it came to the silly fun things like pop music and bawdy humor. They taught me how to say “kiss my ass” in irish. On our trek, me and Den spent the entire time doing lines from Blazing Saddles. They loved that I knew the song My Lovely Horse from Father Ted. While we were tubing through the cave (so cool, dark, scary, loud) someone said something like “in my head” and the next thing you know, we are launched into Zombie by the Cranberries (”in my heaaad, in my heaaaaaaaaaad, Zombie Zombie Zombie-ie-ie”) echoing off the cave walls. Me and Baz sang “Islands in the Stream” as we kayaked down the river, until I said “you know, if we’re going to sing a Kenny Rogers song it should be his best one…” and he said “The Gambler!” so then we were going down the rapids shouting “you gotta know whent o hold em…” And we were all loudly singing our favorite Smiths lyrics in the bar…

“Girlfriend in a coma, I know, I know, it’s seriooooooooos”
“And if a double decker bus crashes into us, to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die…”
“You’re the one for me, fatty, you’re the one I really really love”
“I would go out tonight, but I haven’t got a stitch to weaaaar, this man said it’s gruesome that someone so handsome should caaa-aaaaa-aaaaare”

Incidentally, for once in SE Asia I did have a stitch to wear! I had been carrying a gleaming white tank top around in a zip-loc, with little beaded details, waiting for a special occasion. So it was great to pull it out and put on a clean shirt for my birthday. Of course, I still wore flip flops.

My birthday dinner went like this: my 4 irish-brit friends, Baz (the Prince William Aussie), his Lao buddy, 2 french canadians from kayaking, Sota the japanese guy, and another canadian we befriended literally on the way to the restaurant, a dreadlocked girl named Renee. Caroline disappeared during dinner and showed up with a cake! it was frosted and everything! I have NO idea where she got it (Vang Vieng is a small town, the roads arent even paved). So we went out dancing to the only disco in Vang Vieng. Baz requested In Da Club from the DJ so they all sang “go mary, it’s your birthday, we’re gonna party like it’s your birthday”, and I did “drink bacardi like it’s your birthday”.

Somehow I made my bus in the morning, spent a quiet night alone in Vientiene (despite a really nice dutch guy on the bus next to me, but I just wasn’t having it), and now I am back in HCMC. I spent the day shopping and bought lots of stuff for me, including a gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous dress from one of the high end silk shops. The rest of you are getting crap. And cambodian babies.

My final hours: wrap this up, catch a cab, pick up my backpack from the guesthouse, and go back to see the family for one more night. I’m really looking forward to seeing them! Then… to the airport tomorrow morning for another 30 hour ordeal to get home. I hope customs doesn’t care about some questionable items I’m bringing home…

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This entry was posted on Monday, November 7th, 2005 at 2:19 am and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.