tl: "hi, hi, hi.. ehh.. it cost actually 38,000 dong not 35,000 - you have 3000?"
oh. this lady is trying to rip us off. we dont owe 3000.
tl: "you have?"
we are boarding our plane. .. why didnt you tell us earlier? oh, right. you are a-
tl: "you have?"
damn. this nasty-
tl: "you have?"
b: "shit, hold on. heres 5000."

the lady walked back to her counter slowly, as the plane finalized boarding. she just looked at us. there was no way we could get the money back, and she knew it. the lady had our 23 cents. forever.

becca and i were getting ready to board our flight from Hanoi to Nha Trang. we had originially planned to take the"reunification express" train from Hanoi to Nha Trang - but the timing got fucked up. the schedule said that the train left at 8:30 PM and arrived at 2:30PM. 18 hours on the train, in a sleeper berth - no problem.
actually, vietnamese trains aren't so fast
actually.. it was a 42 hour trip ..( 24+18 = .. ).

b:"actually, lets get plane tickets."

so we got two, and were now ready to board our state-of-the-art Vietnam Airlines twin prop Soviet flying machine. its becca and i, and a few sweaty viet businessmen and party officials. oh, and this young russian woman with thick ankles, bright pink toenail polish and a bright pink tube dress. she was, presumably, ordered online by the balding but sporting vietnamese man she was standing next to.
(many vietnamese party cadres speak russian, im told).
she rolled her eyes at me when i smiled at her as we boarded the plane.

i watched the giant propellers begin to slowly spin outside my window. the propellers were bent at impossible angles. this was a little alarming, until i realized that the window was so badly scratched on the outside that everything i saw had that look.

we began to cruise down the runway, and the entire plane began to shake. my tray came loose and bounced around in front of me. becca was smiling at her book.

"wehcomt Vietnam Erlin fly two oh fi fi nahstop too Nha Trang. plee fastent seebell. tang yo. "

pow # 3: do not flinch. the second you show lack of confidance, their tires will make a b-line for your scrotum. continue across the street in a straight line at a consistant and predictible rate - the moto drivers will pass in front of and behind you. they will not hit you --unless you stop walking. do not stop walking. disregard the young drivers practicing their english. they don't really know what "hello fuck you!" means or sounds like. keep an eye on the other side of the road. yield only for cars, trucks, and moto drivers who appear to be under 15.

P.O.W. #2: definitely not cool to haggle price of fucking postcards with guy with one eye and stumps for arms who picked up live U.S. phosphorous bomb when he was 3, especially after you have identified your home town as Washington, DC.

pearl of wisdom #1: - definitely not cool to call everyone Charlie

"what the fuck - he doesnt understand"
"no, he gets it, hes just being modest.."
"maybe he wants us to do it first"
"think?"
"yeah."
"right. k. fuck .. "

i knocked back the little green shotglass, smiling.
damn. snake bile doesnt taste like.. what i ..uh.. i thought snake bile would taste like.

we are sitting in a restuarant in Le Mat, Hanoi's tiny but notorious "snake village", a place where viet businessmen come to share snake after hammering out deals and formalities, and where party apparatchiks come to waste more public funds. we invited one of our moto drivers in to eat with us, since he was waiting outside for us. there was no other real business for him that night.

about 55 years old, and wearing an old army shirt - he looks at me, smiling. im wondering exactly what effect drinking snake bile and rice wine with ex-VietCong will have on US-Viet relations. im wondering what McCain would think of this. im wondering if snake bile contains any venom. im wondering if venom will give me "snake lover power", or the runs.

we point to his glass. we offer him some of the snake spring rolls, some fried snake skin and rib cage, snake with garlic, snake fried rice, some snakey snake snake, and some snake soup.

he nods.
"won.. tuu.. dree"
he laughs and knocks the shot back.

smiling, his eyes dart towards his wedding band, then the door.

this guy is hilarious.