adventures with the common folks

I've been having some deep seeded emotional issues with the Vietnamese people. I've been trying to sort out why I feel a bit more disconected from the Vietnamese than I have with other people. Maybe it's as simple as just enjoying other places more, rather than here less. Maybe it's the fear I managed to work up about here before arriving and finding it isn't that bad, or maybe it's latent hostility from losing a few bucks to someone's sticky fingers. Perhaps it's the way vendors seem to want to make money (and lots of it) 5X the price on soe things because I'm so pretty. Or maybe the odd looks I get when I refuse to tip someone for 15 minutes of unwanted service. the kids who have been leared to ask for coins as a first intinct (not beggars just kids I say hi to) when they meet a tourist. Perhaps it haas something to do with the fact Vietnam is my first solo trvel place so they get any negativity from that afixed to them. Maybe some of this.

But I'm also having good things too so I shouldn't focus on the negative.

Yesterday for instance. Walking around and I happened upon some young boys (James and young boys in close proximity? UH-OH). They were playing a game that basically involved throwing a bunched up piece of fabric onto the roof and trying to get it stuck in the gutter. Then you pull on a string attached to the fabric and get it really stuck, but do it gently because the string is many small bits of string collected over months I'm sure and tied together. When I arrived I saw the two sitting on the sidewalk holding the string taught to forma triangle, and not nknowing the rules of the game thought they might need some help getting their fabric down. They thought the fact that I could stretch and reach the roof was very amusing. One was too stuck so I had to lift one of the little fellers to get it down. After retying one of the strings and rejecting their offers to help me carrry any coins I had I was off, looking back in time to see them throw the wad up again (I finally understood the game). Later I walked by and on had stuck his wad on an unfinishe pole and had to go to an upstair window to get it.

Story #2
Coming across another one of the bridges here a lady with her bike loaded down with recycling (bottles ostly) was struggling. Things just weren't balanced and she was teetering. After trying to hlp her push, then lifting off some bottle so she could balance her bike we realized that things weren't going to work. So I ended up carrying her flat of fithy old scrounged up bottles across the bridge for her. She couldn't leave them there, big money! So there I was me carrying dirty bottles and my Vietnamese gal with conical hat and face mask pushing her dirty old bike with dirty bags of dirty bottles hung everywhere. I think she felt bad becuse she was moving really quick, tryiong to get us to our destiation with no delay.There were two types of response that I received as I walked. The Vietnamese would do a double take and shock then laughter would come across their faces. White people on the other hand. They were just stupid, pretending they didn't see it at all. now to me that is DUMB, what can be funnier and weirder than me carrying recycling with a Vietnamese lady in Vietnam, it isn't something that is seen and it will be talked about later so why not laugh at the time (sorry whispered about after I've passed). I was smiling and enjoying the absurdity, silly white folks. Turns out the recycling depot was just across the bridge, adn I got a bit of bicep excercise out of the whole thing, pretty sweet.
Just wish I could have understood what my gal was saying to her friend. "Look what I did!" I'm sure.
So Vietnamese aren't my favourite ut I'm still having a grand old time.

I think I'm forgetting something so you'll likely be getting another quick blog later.