Ryan McFarland

I was asked to send something in to the ARPA newsletter about our trip so i thought i would copy and paste it here…

My second day in Vietnam we loaded up into a big bus and cruised from Ho Chi Minh City toward the Mekong Delta.  There were seven in our group and we were joining travelers from all over the world for a two day boat ride up the Mekong River into Cambodia.  The roads in Vietnam are swarming with motor scooters.  We regularly saw four and five people on scooters – once even seven.  There are lines painted on the roads but the rule of the road seems to be that of gross tonnage – he who weighs most goes where he wants.  The constant sound of horns from the buses, vans, and scooters soon contrasted with the drone of the river boat motor.  But the riverbanks took a long time to finally start to show – they were crowded with the pilings of business and homes for a hundred miles before we started to see the agricultural areas that contributed to the river’s sediment.  It was just as you might imagine – one person bathing and drinking out of the river, the next washing their water buffalo, and then a small child standing on a branch and pooping in the water.  Needless to say, I kept clear of the “seafood.” But I did have just enough of the local brew to suggest to the man riding the bicycle that was pulling me on a trailer that I should give riding a try.  The seat was hard but I concentrated on making sure I wasn’t hit by a motorbike or car while my friends snapped photos of me. The other cyclist cabbies seemed to wish that their heavy American passengers were as interested in paying to drag them around on a trailer as I was.  Maybe I was fired up from the snake liquor we had the previous night.

The next morning we were loaded up on boats and rowed around Chau Doc to see how rice paper and coconut candy are made.  We navigated through a maze of float houses that had an umbilical cord of electricity strung to each of them to power their televisions.  Eventually we boarded our windowless powerboat to continue across the border into Cambodia.  A few of us scrambled onto the roof of the boat that picked us up at the border.  We took pictures, waved at the children that ran to the shore, and soaked up some sun.  In Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia, we walked around enjoying the sights of the Happywater Festival.  Unfortunately, the major attractions in the city were closed for the festival – but I saw garbage cans made entirely out of old tires and we watched crews of sixty people paddling huge canoes on the river in races.  The next day we chartered a van to take us to Siem Reap.  Once again we swerved through streams of motorbikes.  But this trip had more big buses on the highway and also more people on bicycles hauling firewood or water buffalo hauling farmer’s trailers that were now empty from their sales during the day. 

We spent three days based in Siem Reap exploring the ruins around Angkor Wat before heading back to Vietnam on an airplane.  The Hindu and Buddhist ruins were stunning.  Some were overgrown with a thousand years of the jungle reclaiming the stone.  Others were meticulously restored and were surrounded by peddlers of everything from French guidebooks to the ruins to tiger teeth and elephant tusks.  In Cambodia they accept US dollars.  We went through them quickly though – an hour massage cost between 3 and 8 dollars.  Food and drink and even lodging was cheap. 

What did I learn that makes this worth being in our newsletter?  I saw very few sports fields.  Not even soccer.  I think the reason was because land was too valuable to be used for play.  We saw a few volleyball nets strung up next to homes – a game that fairly large teams can play and requires little space.  One playground that I saw in Vietnam had Gametime equipment that I first saw at the Seattle trade show.  The playground was absolutely overpopulated with children of all ages.  All forms of recreation and play were done with much less thought that it was recreation.  I saw thousands of bicycles – yet only one recreational cyclist.  A few varieties of hand cycles were very present.  Mines continue to maim Cambodians and Vietnamese and those with a leg impairment got around in their hand cycles instead of wheelchairs (the sidewalks would have been impossible to use a wheelchair in).  Their cycles seemed to be government issued because most had an official looking mark on the back.  The reason I went was to participate in a friend’s wedding.  I had no initial desire to visit either place and now I truly hope to return.