34C in singapore… to 14C in sydney.

goodbye flip flops, hello fleecy jumpers. *that’s* culture shock.

we leave for singapore tomorrow, signifying the end of the south east asia phase of our journey, and the halfway mark of our trip.

not really sure how to characterise my feelings at this point. i will miss these countries terribly. they’re on the cusp of becoming something truly unique and vital. while on the one hand i wish everyone could get to experience the customs and cultures of this corner of the world, i also worry for the preservation of them. places like cambodia which are on the edge of a tourism boom – yet not perhaps strong enough just yet to withstand the impact that accompanies it. and places like vietnam and laos – which are so close to shaking off the economic fetters of socialism that hold them back from the larger stage, yet not stable enough to avoid leaving so many behind in the wave of capitalism (such as has happened in russia).

things are changing so quickly, it makes your head spin.

so i would say i am anxious. and hopeful.

and grateful.

i’m really not a huge stickler when it comes to hygiene. really, i’m not. all i ask from any hostel or guesthouse is clean sheets and running water. everything else is a bonus.

so why do i insist on torturing myself by inspecting the pillowcases for strange hairs before climbing into bed?

more importantly: why is it so bloody hard for people to change the friggin’ sheets?!?

dis. gust. ing.

if the smell of china was sewage, then the smell of south east asia is burning rubbish. blech.

I am one year nicotine free today.

Never again.

can i just say that the us v. ghana world cup game had the most flagrant diving, overwrought playacting and biased refereeing of any match i have ever seen, and it made me irate to know that we lost the game *not* because we were outplayed, but because ghana spent more time rolling around on the pitch clutching their legs than they did upright on two feet. I supported ghana when they played against the czech republic and they played skillfully in that match, but this match was an atrocity of dirty tricks and poor sportsmanship.

i’m not a conspiracy theorist, but i am actually half inclined to believe that there was strong political pressure on the refs to ensure that at least one african team made it through. the u.s. didn’t play brilliantly… but they didn’t deserve to lose out on bad/missed calls.

i will be cackling gleefully as ghana get steamrolled by brazil in the next round, and if the score against them reaches the double digits it’ll be because they spent more time lying on their backs looking for foul calls than they do playing the ball. that shit doesn’t stand up to real talent.

the one wearing white is on holiday.

just a quick heads up to point out that there are pictures of hanoi and our three day boat trip in ha long bay posted. also, read more about where we are now.

off to hue tonight. till then, my lovelies…

as a tourist, hawkers are part of daily life – some places are better and some places are worse, but they’re present wherever you go, and as an obvious westerner you’d better get used to being the proverbial “walking dollar sign”. to be fair, i generaly don’t begrudge them their attempts to sell me stuff – i understand this is their livelihood, and i am a prospective customer. and after a while, you learn to tune them out and turn them off with a variety of different methods, ranging from benign to outright rude. when i’m in a good mood, they might get a pleasant “no, thank you”, but in a less kindly one, i’ll turn my back on them and put up the palm of my hand (the international sign language for “talk to the hand”). given how effective that is, i assume it’s pretty offensive, but most of the time I just avoid eye contact and shake my head. there are, however, a few key ways to take me from nice to nasty in under sixty seconds: approach me while i’m in the middle of a meal, or grab me. either of those scenarios, and suddenly i don’t give a flying fig about fulfilling the stereotype of the “rude american” – i will get up in your face and make you sorry you ever bothered me. i also don’t respond to being yelled at from across the street, waved or snapped at like a dog, or repetition. you can call out “hey, hellloooo!” until you’re blue in the face, but you’ll never get my attention that way.

the worst thing about it though, is how it makes you automatically suspicious of everyone. which sucks because it puts your guard up, and leaves you less open to people. it wears you down, man.

if this is turning into a bitch session, well i apologise, but it’s particularly annoying today. j and i had a spat this morning and decided to spend the afternoon each doing our own thing. no biggie, and i’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner, given that it was inevitable we’d get on each other’s nerves. so i did some shopping, had some lunch, and came down to the lake to write and read. since sitting down, two people have approached me to sell me books, one lady to sell me pineapple, one lady to sell me fans, one person came up behind me trying to read what i was writing over my shoulder (?!?), one lady spent 15 minutes harassing me for my soda can (which i refused to give her because a.) it wasn’t empty b.) she picked it up from my side to see if it was empty c.) on principle because she decided to try to wait me out), and one crazy guy came over, put his face inches from mine, then laughed when i told him to fuck off.

i just wanted to relax and enjoy the last afternoon in hanoi (before we get on yet another overnight bus). instead i am weary, irritated and peevish from being harrassed.

why can’t people just leave me be??

nothing makes my day like when j’s cap elicits a cry of “go red sox!”

sox love is everywhere!