Nha Trang

From Vietnam

It’s a fun thing, traveling in Asia, and looking Asian. 

When I was in Thailand, as the days passed and my tan caught up to the local level, people started talking to me in Thai.  In Taiwan and Japan,  I can pass the casual glance pretty reliably (until I start talking, of course).  

The sleeper train from Saigon to Nha Trang pulled in at 5am, and with nothing to do, we dragged ourselves and backpacks for a 20 minute walk to the beach we knew was somewhere out in the tepid darkness.  Actually, I just got annoyed with the vulture-like clamor of taxi drivers right outside the station, and just started following some tourist looking joggers.  Who else would be jogging on a Vietnamese street but a tourist, right?  And a tourist would likely be heading to the beach. 

It quickly became apparent that we weren’t following tourists, but that yes, these locals were headed beach-wards. For pre-dawn, the streets had a decent number of adults just walking, presumably for their health.  

When we reached the beach after about 10 long blocks (and after telling the same motorcycle driver at EVERY INTERSECTION) that we didn’t need a ride, and didn’t care for his hotel either, we found a number of senior citizens doing morning exercises, walking, gossiping, and generally having a good time.  There was clearly a set of regulars, and I suspect we had hijacked one of their two benches.  

Back to the discussion of looking like a local - In Vietnam, I thought it was pretty obvious I wasn’t Vietnamese, but well…these old folks at the beach still couldn’t get it through their heads that someone looked Asian but somehow didn’t speak their language.  One of them finally got it, and started asking me if I spoke Vietnamese … in English. (If I say “No Vietnamese” in English when you ask me in Vietnamese…do you think the answer changes when you ask me in English?  At least he didn’t just try asking louder.)

Anyhow – once sunrise hit, a small group of these energetic oldies decided to hit the waves.  They all had the same faded cottonish shorts, and as they walked into the waves, I wondered when they started doing this.  No one actually swam.  They did sort of reverse jumping jacks into the breaking waves.  Think of a wave breaking onto your back, and making a snow angel onto the wave as you jump up.  That’s what they were doing.  Not particularly strenuous, but it looked pretty refreshing.  

From Vietnam

That was my first two hours in Nha Trang, and I think the most memorable.  Sun risen, we walked to a hotel, booked a room for $5 for the day so we could use a shower and drop our bags.  Bought some hot soy milk from a street vendor, snagged a last minute dive/snorkel trip which occupied the rest of the day (As the nausea set in, I remembered that I get seasick. Heh. Got sick just from snorkeling.)