Finally

I picked up Cindy at the Hanoi airport at 11:30 pm. (No, I did not drive, are you kidding?) It was, of course, a relief to finally see her beautiful face. We had our hello's and such but quickly had to follow the driver to the car. It was great to watch her in the taxi. Vietnam was so compelling she was drawn to look out the window as I talked (what about me... me, me, me, me?). The next morning we hit the streets... around noon. When we got out there I watched her and I realized what I must have looked liked the day before. I would start down the street, eventually realizing I was alone. I would turn around to see Cindy, still where we started; standing, mouth open and eyes wide. The Vietnamese must wonder why we are so surprised at their life. What hit Cindy as particularly interesting were the street "restauraunts", but they would be more aptly named sidewalk kitchens. Every ten feet on the sidewalk there would be one to three tables as big as a milk crate and a few tiny, tiny chairs (think kindergarten)around each table. The cook would be squatting,working over a small hand made ceramic "stove" set out near the street. The "restauraunt" would be serving one thing. Of course that one thing had just been killed and cut up at the market and then prepared at the feet of the squatting cook. It took us a long time to get up the nerve to eat at one of these places but we were determined to do it. We would stop,stare, discuss our options and usually move on. Then we did it. We stopped at a noodle soup kitchen. Oh my gawd that chit was good. Luckily,our dinner was "saved" by a nice woman who sat down at our table. The woman grabbed Cindy's hand after Cindy had pulled a small scoop of reddish liquid from a bowl and made her pour most of it back, then smiled and nodded at her. It was a good move. Just the little bit left on the spoon was a potent amount of heat. We ate, waited to watch a local pay, then walked up and offered the same amount. The total for our dinner... $.70 USD. Of course the very next minute I spent 4 or 5 dollars on orange pop and desert.

Gooood Morning Vietnam!

Okay. I have to admit. I have been in Disneyland until now. It is another world here. And it started as soon as I stepped out of the airport. Cindy had arranged for the hotel driver to pick me up. And just like Anne the driver had no trouble recognizing me. I was white and my blue eyes were as big as saucers. I was looking at the traffic. I got into the car and we merged, and not a Japanese merge, into something I have never seen before. Trucks, cars, cows, bicycles, rickshaws and motorbikes all on the expressway. Yes expressway. The motorbikes and bicycles were loaded with everything imaginable and lots of it. One motorbike had chickens,lots of chickens. Chickens on the back in cages, chickens on the sides in bags and chickens hanging upside down on the handlebars ( their feet tied to make the loop). Motorbikes had construction materials on them; bricks, steel re-bar in ten foot lengths,marble slabs, or lumber enough to build a shed. Some motorbikes had three people, groceries and tonights not yet dead dinner. Cows were mostly on the sides of the road though not always. The drivers use their horns as turn signals. If any of them want to go around another car they honk until either the car moves over or, they themselves get past. They honk when they are turning a corner, or going through an intersection. Oh yeah intersections; no lights, no signs, no signals, no hesitation by any drivers, riders or cows. Yes that means that everyone is going all directions at one time. Left turns, right turns, u- turns and of course forward. It's kind of like stirring soup. At one point during the drive my driver could not pass on the right because there was to much traffic so he went into the on coming traffic lane (full of on coming traffic) beeped his horn the whole way, passed,and moved back into our lane. My eyes got bigger as I was dropped off at the hotel. The sidewalks were covered, absolutley covered with parked motorbikes, marble carvers, squatting construction workers, vendors, and sidewalk restauraunts, but no people, there wasn't any room. People walked in the streets with the "chaos", and that's exactly what I did next. I had almost a full day before Cindy arrived in Hanoi so I hit the streets trying to act like I knew what I was doing. Then I came to an intersection. I had to enter that intersection chaos. I was brave, undaunted, and I blended right in. I picked a little old lady to follow and when she stepped into the mess, so did I. Just when I thought my eyes could not be more telling, I walked into an open market. OH MY GAWD. Live things soon to be dead, dead things soon to be cut up, and dead things being cut up, their guts in the street. Tongues,livers,kidneys,hearts,legs and ears. Bowls of squirming maggots ready to be roasted, or squirming eels soon to be dinner. A whole roasted pig, no....Fido. I headed back to my room.

I`m ready.

I`m ready to leave Japan. It`s been nice, but I am on my way.

No language barrier here.

I had to break down my bike for the train ride back from Hiroshima. When I got back to Tokyo I needed to put it back together and try to sell it somewhere, somehow. When I tried to put my back wheel on I noticed the chain was all screwed up and the derailuer was a mess as well. I worked with it for awhile but did not have the appropriate tools for the repair. I remembered the store I bought it from had a bike repair shop, so I decide to carry the bike up there and get some help. The guy was gracious enough to take a look right away. He took the chain off, took the derailuer off and futzed around a bit. He signaled to me that the derailuer needed to be replaced. I tried to tell him okay but please put the chain back on, and I will ride the bike as a single speed. He signaled to me, no, that the derailuer needed to be replaced. We began an argument that really did not make any sense because neither one of us understood a word the other was saying. He kept putting up his arms in an X "telling" me nothing could be done. I knew the bike could be made a single speed and I kept signaling to him to PLEASE just PUUT the chain on so I can ride it out of here. He did put the chain on the bike... in a bag. He picked the bike up and carried it out to the street. I followed him. He set the bike down and stared at me, and then pointed down the street. I said with a smile " no really I think we can work this out". He stared at me and then pointed down the street more emphatically. I asked him if he wanted to but the bike. It was pretty clear. I picked up my bike and walked.

Tidbits on Japan

I pulled up to an intersection early one morning and a truck packed with 8 or 9 Japanese pulled up next to me. They were eyeing me cautiously. I smiled. A few of them raised their hands slowly,barely, their fingers just above the window opening.I bowed and said "ohiyo", or good morning. One girl claps her hands and says "ohiyo" back. Then the whole truck is in an uproar of good mornings and laughter. The light changes and they begin to pull away. I raise my hand and yell "syanora". Now their hands are above the window, out the window and they are bowing and yelling "syanora". Good chit man. Good chit. I am at a rest stop and I am frazzeled. I have been lost, I have been in terrible traffic and now ahead of me is construction. I am also looking at tunnels. Lots of them. Narrow tunnels. With trucks. Loud trucks. Fast trucks. Big trucks. Mean trucks that make mash potatoes out of cyclists. There is a woman at the rest stop making and handing out tea. She brings a cup over to me and "asks" me what I am doing. I show her on the map. She raises her eyebrows.....I "ask" her about the tunnels. Another woman comes over. They disscuss the tunnels. She brings a cup of tea. They assure me the tunnels will be okay but wave their hands behind their rear ends and then hold their nose. The first woman brings me a roll and places it my hands. The last supper? They again assure me the road is "okay, okay" for bikes. I am refreshed and am able to start out again. Of course they were wrong about the roads but their assurances got me started again. I was bicycling up a slope and passed several school boys about 11 years old. They start some kind of chatter that sounds like they are egging someone on to race me. I swing my arm around to signal "come on" and the race is on. One of them and I start up the hill neck and neck, the other boys are cheering from behind. We weave in and out of another crowd of kids. Of course he gets me on the weave. More cheers. I get cut off at a narrow place and he beats me to the light. These little stories and more are why I bike through the country side.

She had her eye on me too.

The Japanese are amazing cyclists. Everyone cycles. I regularly see men and women over 60 adeptly bicycling through the crowds. I see old men in suits, young men in suits, and middle aged men in suits riding their bicycles. Women in heels and in the latest fashion. Mothers ride with their front basket full of groceries, a kid in front of them, but behind the handle bars and a kid on the back. Amazing. Iv`e seen guys who collect cans with a load on their bike 4 foot wide and 2 feet above their head on the back and another bag about that big on the front. All the cyclists travel in,with and among each other with incredible agility,ease and predictability. That predictability thing is important. Yesterday I was headed for a bridge. The sidewalk on the bridge was for pedestrians AND cyclists. A concrete barrier was on the left and a guard rail on the right. Regular size sidewalk and people are going every which way at speed. I tried to merge onto the bridge with the crowd but at the very last minute... I chickened out. I stopped. Voided the merge. I also jammed up traffic five and six bikes back; created a pile up. I was thankful for the language barrier once again. I finally got on the bridge. People were passed each other within inches. I cringed as people on bikes passed walkers, came right at me and at the very last moment, with ease and grace, they glided on by. No facial expression,no cringe,no exchange of bows to indicate who should go first or stop or anything. I in the meantime involuntarily lifted my hand off the near side handle bar, flinched, sucked my shoulder in and tried not to say " whoa whoa whoa". Before I started across the bridge I had noticed a tiny tiny elderly woman on her bike in the middle of all this controlled chaos. She had to have been in her seventies and could not have weighed more than 85 pounds. She had a bunch of flowers in her front basket along with a few groceries. She had gone ahead of me on the bridge. I had opted to be the last rider onto the bridge so that I could wimper and flinch in relative obscurity. I lost sight of her on the bridge but as we all piled up at the end I noticed her again. She moved ahead of me; she was better on the merge. I caught up to her on a straight away, passed her, then had to stop to adjust my seat. She glided on by. I passed her again on a uphill only to have my load shift; so I stopped and she... glided on by. It got crowded at another intersection and I lost her. As the crowds thinned out further down the road there she was. Now I am not saying I was being competitive with an elderly woman on a Ozzie and Harriet bike but, well, she was impressive. And dammit she was ahead of me. I did pass her again only to have to stop. I pulled my bike close to me. I smiled and said "Gomen na sai" or " excuse I`m an idiot". She smiled and rolled on by. I watched her as she went. Incredible. She was so tiny and damn old to be on a bike but she was slow and steady for sure. She dissappeared beyond a curve and I figured she was gone. I took a drink, tied my shoes and started off again. I was going uphill on the sidewalk. It is a tight fit. It got crowded again. I weaved and cringed. Stop,go,stop,go, shuffle shuffle. As I came through a crowd there she was on the corner. She was shopping at an outdoor market. I began to pass and as I did she caught my eye, smiled,waved and said "bye bye".

I didn`t have much to write about;then it rained.

　I came into a town for the night and could not find a hotel( I could not find my own ass in Japan) so I opted for the beach. I found a park and headed to the far end near a sea wall. People were walking and running at the park so it seemed pretty safe. I was getting my stuff out, had leveled a place in the sand to sleep on and was beginning to cook dinner when a woman ran by and stopped at the wall to rest. In an attempt to "talk" with her I clapped my hands and said " good job". Now all conversations in Japan have really been a game of charades. The people who were supposed to have spoken English in Japan lived somewhere else. Any time I say " she or he said" they really just acted it out, and so did I. This leaves lots of room for assumption and misinterpretation. So any way. She "asked" what I was doing, I showed her on a map. She raised her eyebrows, made a surprised look on her face. She "asked" where I would sleep. I showed her my place on the beach. She cocked her head. I shrugged.　She left. I cooked. That is a "conversation". About an half hour later she came back with her mother and two of her mother`s friends. They were trying to tell me something. They all kept pointing to their noses and pointing somewhere down the beach. I had seen people point to their nose, actually touch or smash their nose while talking to me. I always thought, "I must have something in my nose" or " boy these people are not shy about telling you you have something in your nose". But this time they all were telling me I had something in my nose, and it must have been really big. Then it dawned on me. We point to our chest to indicate ourselves; they point to their nose. Thank God, I had not had a booger after all. They were adament about me going with them, somewhere. I stopped cooking dinner, packed up and followed them to a ...pavillion. Ahhh, I remembered it might rain sometime this week.　This pavillion was good but was very visible to the public. And I didn`t like it. But it was shelter and there were bathrooms nearby, so I stayed. Turned out this was the local place for truckers and the like to get some sleep, go to the bathroom and otherwise cavort around. I was up all night peering out of the screen on my tent. A car pulled in, the guy got out changed into pajamas and got back in to sleep. A van pulled in, very close to me, the guy got out, made a bed in the back, arranged some things and got back in,turned on the radio and closed the door. Cars pulled in, people got out; they went to the restrooms, they stretched, they walked around. One guy dissappeared then later tripped over my tent stake out strings. I jumped out and yelled at him; he "asked" me if I would like to take a shower with him. I put my forearms up in a big X and yelled "NO". Chit. As soon as dawn came, I got up and started my coffee. The guy in the van also got up about that time. He stretched, peed, scratched his... head and started his breakfast. I watched him. He had a van much like Stephens. He didn`t have it organized as well but he was ahead of his time in Japan. He was cooking out of the side of the van on top of the bed. He had things piled way to high and precariously. He had it all wrong. I was "changing" the design in his van when he started my way. Oh Chit. I had been staring. I had given him an opening. I smiled to hide my fear; and he asked me to... breakfast. "I`ll be damned this can`t be happening again." I accepted of course. Then it started raining. After breakfast he invited me to go for a ride to a park.. or somewhere. I stashed my bike, jumped in the van with him and his friend who had joined us for brekkie and we headed up into the mountains in the pouring down rain.They took me to the number one temple in Japan, the number one waterfall in Japan, and to a 1000 year old tree,all of which just happened to be in that area. Amazing chit mate. We spent about three hours walking around in the rain. Then of course it was "beer o`clock". We headed to the grocery. He came out with veggies,miso,noodles,chicken,sake... and beer. It was also lunch time. We parked underneath the expressway for shelter from the still pouring rain, and he proceeded to cook the most amazing Japanese meal. All I could do was shake my head. There I am at beer o`clock, underneath the expressway, with two people I just met,in a van, having a wonderful meal,drinking beer and sake and I am in; Japan. During lunch he tried to tell me something. He started with the nose thing, then pointed to town, then he made this gesture,undeniably a ....sexual gesture with his hands. I jumped up,crossed my forearms and said "NO". He put his head in his hands, shook his head and undoubtedly thought the exact same thing... NO. We finally worked out that he was going to be with his girlfriend that night and that, since it was raining, I could use his van for sleeping. (See what I mean about misinterpretations?) His girlfriend however it turned out wanted to meet me and wanted me to spend the night. After lunch and after a visit to a bar we headed over to his girlfriends house. More charades, more gesturing, but I do hear one word I recognize. "Onsen". Yeah we are going to go to the public bath house. The woman dissappears for awhile then comes out does the nose thing, points to me then the door. I gather up my underwear, socks, toothbrush and clean shirt and excitedly follow her out the door。We head down an alley, turn right to another alley, and left around the corner of a building and go in. I`m in the grocery store. Chit. I`m in the grocery store with my clean socks, underwear, shirt and toothbrush. I put my stuff in the basket, we pick up groceries and head back to the house and she makes the most delicious Japanese meal I have ever had. THEN we head to the onsen. When we get to the onsen she tells me to go on in like I know what I am doing. She has to stop at the toilet. I head down the hall,take a deep breath, turn right and push open a door and enter a room with about 6 half clad to naked ,tiny ,Japanese women. They stop talking and stare. I am immediately aware of how big I am. Big. I feel like Shrek. I bumble around. I take off my clothes, slowly, very slowly and stand big and naked at the edge of the room. My friend comes in, points me to the onsen and gets ready herself. I enter the onsen. More naked women. It is a long narrow room with the hot spring baths along one long wall and 4 feet away another long wall full of shower hoses and very tiny stools with soap and shampoo next to each. I sit down in full view of everyone.( The Japanese do not have the issues we have about nudity.) I take the shower hose off the wall and begin to wet myself down. It is not to long before my shower head falls off and I begin spraying everyone in the hot spring bath behind me. Chit. I slap my hand over the open end and promptly begin spraying everyone beside me. Chit! I take my hand back off the hose and while spraying everyone behind me I get the water turned off. All in one rainy day.

In the meantime...

Here's some foot tappin' entertainment for y'all...

The Language Barrier

Hi all, Cindy here. Tracy wanted me to let you all know that she is fine. She is making her way SouthWest through Japan by bicycle. When she last called she was just outside of Hamamatsu (I may be spelling that wrong, sorry), which is on the the Southern coast. She is having quite a challenge navigating the roads when she can't read the signs or the map. It is truly difficult matching up those symbols.
She said "As technologically advanced as Japan is there aren't any internet cafes around... or at least if there are I can't tell."
In true Tracy form though, she is meeting some wonderful people. But she is spending a lot of energy staying off of expressways and avoiding trucks (they don't seem to know the meaning of "ding, ding").
She plans to continue on to Hiroshima (through Osaka) where she will then take a train back to Tokyo. She wanted you to know she will spend October 26 blogging and emailing aplenty. Then October 27th it's on to Vietnam! "Yea!!", I say since I will be meeting her there for 3 weeks. We're not sure how updating will go. We will try to update often. I believe you may get both Japan and Vietnam pictures together.

p.s. If you click on the map below to see it bigger Hamamatsu is where the number 23 is, Osaka, I believe, is to the right of orange dot number 2 (or therebouts anyway) with Hiroshima to the left of orange dot number 2, and Tokyo is just south of the number 4 in that little crook of a bay area, just to give you an idea of the ground Tracy is covering.

Last glimpse.

Cindy put the last set of photos on the "Australia" blog I just recently posted. She as usual did a great job.

If you want to see the last batch of Australia photos just click on the post titled "Australia" in the blog archive to the right.