Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam

Sobriety hit me instantly. She had her hands in my pants. A line that in most cases would lead to elation, but this was different. There was no pleasure involved. The adrenaline was a concoction of fear, anger and a stench that I could not recognize.

The night had started with coffee, cigarettes and conversations — a bittersweet blend that was peddled at every corner of Saigon. Felix had been living in Ho Chi Minh City for the last 19 years. He had a relationship with the city that was thicker than the 20-cents-watered-down beer drunk by young white travellers finding themselves in an oriental town.

“Would you like to see the city?” the French Canadian asked me, as he pulled out another cigarette. “This one has a Saigon Kick,” he snickered.

It had been about two hours since I had arrived from Nha Trang.

“Yes,” I muttered. “Let’s do it.”

The doors were blacked out. As we entered, a man, probably in his late 40s saluted me, and ushered me in. It wasn’t long before I realized I was at a Gentlemen’s Club. A Vietnamese Gentlemen’s Club that was filled with horny old men singing cacophonously to young girls and handing out wrinkled Dongs.

“Umm, I don’t think I should be here,” I tired to tell Felix. He was already in a tête-à-tête with a girl who played with his greying locks. His hands were all over her, but his mouth kept spurting out, “Dhruv, go talk to a girl.”

I got up and left. This wasn’t my kind of debauchery.

I walked back to the main street, only to be encountered by an armada of Dutch travellers that I had met in Hanoi about a month ago. It looked like I was going to spend the evening drinking 20-cents-watered-down-beer with young white travellers finding themselves in an oriental town.

“I think I am going to go back to the Hotel,” I tried to say, but failed. I get rather quiet when I get drunk, and today was no different. Today for the second time, I got up and left.

“Give back my wallet!” I yelled at the second girl, as I held the first one firmly. About 2 minutes before, I had two Vietnamese girls walk up to me and ask, “Can we suck you off?”

Now before I could tell them thank you and no, and the very fact that the night’s alcohol intake had left me incapacitated, I felt a hand down my pants and another in my wallet.

This had turned into a mugging. If you’ve ever encountered such an incident, you know for a fact that you are never prepared for it. You cannot foresee your reactions.

Mine of course was getting the first girl’s hand out of my pants and screaming at the other to give back my wallet. By this time I had perspired all the alcohol and was grasping a Vietnamese girl while backing away from another.

“Here’s your wallet,” the second girl shrieked, as she put her hand out to give it to me. I held onto it and pushed the other girl forcefully into her and ran straight to my hotel. The adrenaline rush still twisting its way into my heart.

“I wonder if Felix’s night was as adventurous.”

 

Don Det, Laos

Look, if there is a Beast, I will protect you. But if there is a Chicken, I am running in the opposite direction!

You’re a Chicken when you see a Chicken!

The only chickens I like are the ones on my plate.

The thing with Don Det is that you don’t need to go searching for a Happy Time. It will literally hit you in the face. Happy Pizza, Happy Cookies, Happy Shakes. Just all round Happy People.

It is a different feeling when you are traveling across South East Asia. Not sure if it is the people, the relaxed chaos or the very feeling that time has stood still for you. For me, South East Asia transformed me as a traveler.

I had been traveling for over a month now and had finally entered Laos from Cambodia in what seemed to be the most ‘Asian’ border crossing. It was about 6 in the evening as we reached the border crossing which to my dismay was shut. Now, if you are imagining immigration checks and security personnel, you are wrong. It is a hut. Yes, the border check is a man in a hut.

And apparently, the fellow in the hut had packed up and switched off the lights. “You have to come back tomorrow,” said the bus driver to me and a bus filled with 5 Australian tourists. Nah, this wasn’t happening. I got off the bus and walked to the ‘Hut’ where I saw a man sitting in his boxer shorts.

I need to cross.

Come tomorrow. Border Shut.

No, I need to cross now.

Border Closed.

This time I slipped him $5 and looked at him as sincerely as possible. The lights came on, the man sat up straight and said okay you can cross now. There is nothing a Fiver couldn’t achieve in South East Asia.

I finally reached Don Det and got myself a nice Bungalow on the Mekong River. I was definitely looking for a Happy Time.

And it was definitely looking for me. ‘Get your Happy Bags’ read out signboards. I joined a Dutch girl who I had met on the boat to the island as we got ourselves some bikes and rode across this 7 km island.

If there is one thing more blissful than the those Happy Bags in Don Det, it is the sunsets that smack you in the face with different colours and hues. I have always loved sunsets more than sunrises, perhaps it is to do with the colours of the sky or the fact that I am probably not going to wake up for the sunrise.

We parked our bikes at one of the cafes, you know one of them hippie, everyone and everything is love cafes with their mattress and low-lying coffee tables surrounded by those huge pillows to lean back on. I have always wondered if it is the same guy who designs these places or perhaps being closer to the ground gives you a better high. This was a place to do absolutely nothing but rest your soul with some Beer Lao.

Would you like a shake?

Yes.

A Happy one?

Aye!

And a cookie too.

Happy Cookie!

We bit into our cookies and drank the shake slowly as the cafe played some 90s pop and lo and behold time moved even more slowly than it did on the island as we reached a perfect place where both us and time stood still.

Now to be honest, parts of this story are missing because I am not sure how we reached our Bungalow. I do recall having a conversation about chickens and walking beside a paddy field. Although, this could have been any other conversation at any other time. It’s all Chickens and Paddy Fields.

This is why you come to Don Det. To get away from the craziness of the rest of it. You are not here to find yourself. You are here just to be. You are here to have a Happy Time.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Noooooooooo, I screamed!

What is it?

Ghost!

A Ghost?

I pointed at the Ghost hovering above us.

Umm, that’s the mosquito net.

Oh Shit, it is. I thought it was a ghost.

Looks like you’re still stoned.