Vietnam Day 21 (6/28/09)

I woke up excited to work, though not especially well rested. I helped feed the animals, clean, and do the usual manual labor involved in animal husbandry. In every spare second, I went around to visit the animals and enjoy my last moments with them since I was leaving in the afternoon. When Matt got there, he set me to work giving tours again. It meant a lot to me because it meant he thought I did a decent job with the visitors yesterday.

As my official sendoff, we were going down to the river to release a small bird of prey (a gorgeous white and grey bird about the size of a falcon with blood-red eyes) that had been kept at the center for recovery. I had the honor of carrying the bird in a kennel on the motorbike. It did of course make me a little less stable as we drove over the rural dirt roads, passing through potholes and almost getting stuck in the mud at one point. Nevertheless, this rocky ride didn’t stop me from enjoying the scenery along the way. There were miles of rice fields on both sides with farmers staring as we went by. We edged our way through a herd of water buffalo that were so big and awesome they made my jaw drop, though they seemed unfazed by my presence (they just kept munching away without even turning their heads in our direction). When we reached the river, we opened the kennel for the bird but despite our best efforts to help, it couldn’t fly far enough to be released. We put the bird back in the kennel to take back to the center for more recuperation. Getting onto the motorbike however, I was a little off-balance and got another exhaust pipe burn on my leg, just a few centimeters down from my last burn. You’d think a girl would learn – at least I have an excuse this time, I was carrying an endangered bird when it happened.

This has definitely been one of the highlights of my trip. Everything I did was a new experience and all of it worthwhile (even last night’s adventure with the bugs and rain). If I have time to come back again while I’m here I’ll definitely jump at the chance to come back and play with the animals again. Still, I had to go back so I packed my things and departed Cu Chi for the most harrowing bus ride of my life. The first leg of the trip wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, just extraordinarily bumpy because the torrential rain last night left the road (and its potholes) in even worse condition than when I came. I got off at the right stop, but then I spent a few confused minutes trying to figure out where to go from there. I thought my connecting bus was number four but a student who spoke English told me that I actually wanted number twenty seven (which seems like a big difference to me). Since she was headed to the same place, I took her advice and boarded the bus.

Unfortunately, the person I was sitting next to got off at an early stop and the man who took the empty seat was a creepy middle-aged Nigerian. He spoke decent English, so we started talking about our respective work in Vietnam and how much we loved traveling. Then the conversation took an uncomfortable turn. He mentioned that one of the reasons he travels is to find his “angel” who will take care of him when he’s sick and who he can provide for. I suspected where that train of thought was headed and he confirmed it within minutes. He said someday he’d travel to America and, just maybe, we’d meet in the airport and he’d take me to a five-star hotel and I could show him the country. When he grabbed my wrist in a “friendly” way (with obvious disregard for my personal space), I knew for sure I was supposed to be his angel, which naturally scared me to death. To my great relief, he got off at a stop before mine, so I was finally rid of him after nearly an hour.

When I got off at my stop, I was still freaked out so I was especially jumpy when anyone came up to me to gawk or offer motorbike services. I was overly afraid of getting mugged at this point so I just kept moving, looking for a cab to make my escape. Unfortunately, I chose to walk down a sketchier street where there were no cabs. I must have been quite a sight with my huge pack, hiking boots, and khaki hat that read “WAR” (standing for Wildlife At Risk). I felt like a huge target so I hastened my way to the next intersection and grabbed the first cab I saw. Of course the cab driver got confused again and drove right past the guest house. I noticed just in time to jump out not far away so I just walked the rest.

I arrived feeling tired and disgusting, but I put my bag down and went straight out to dinner. When I got back, I was ready to relax when we encountered a large group in the hallway who were leaving to go roller skating right that minute. I’d been looking forward to going for a while now so I picked myself up again and went with them. The skating rink was insane. It reminded me of Saigon traffic only crazier. Everyone was going so fast and doing tricks, forming huge human chains as they sped around the rink. People kept crashing into us and pushing us lightly when we got in their way. We were all frightened of dying so we sat down on a bench on the backside of the rink. That was dangerous too though since right in front of us was what I would call the fast lane. Every time we leaned over to talk to each other, a chain of skaters would whiz past, nearly taking our heads with them. One skater was particularly frightening – he was racing around with a cigarette (putting us at risk of being singed), doing tricks that placed his skates as high as our noses.

I couldn’t just sit there any longer so I struck out onto the floor. Mind you, I can’t actually skate but I have a system of pushing off and gliding (more like a skateboard) that works quite well – I managed to keep up my speed and got into surprisingly few crashes (none of them my fault). At one point, a random Vietnamese girl grabbed my and we skated around together. Then her friend joined us and we formed a mini human chain. They were obviously much better skaters than I am, but I kept up and it was really fun. Sadly, I lost my rings in the process. Our palms were sweaty and when we were crashed into, our hands separated and my rings got pulled off. I was really sad about losing the moonsnail ring I got from Ninh Thuan, but we searched the entire rink and couldn’t find it. It’s alright though – they’re just things and skating at a Vietnamese roller disco is certainly an experience I can take back with me instead.