The Holy Grail of pho

I found it...a bowl of pho that not only rivals my mom's, but tops any other bowl of pho I have ever had. This is the Holy Grail of pho-a bowl so good that despite sitting in a packed restaurant, I didn't hear anything else other than the furious slurping and clattering of utensils against bowls.

Pho Le, located in Saigon's Chinatown, is famous among locals. It is considered one of the best pho restaurants in all of Saigon (which to me, makes it one of the best pho joints around). The pho here is so good it is attracting the attention of foreigners--I spotted a few Westerners eating here, which is sort of surprising considering that it is nowhere near any tourist site but in the middle of a bustling business district.

True southern Vietnamese pho is eaten with a lot of vegetables. Most restaurants in the States are very cheap with their veggie servings, but not here. You are greeted with a huge bucket of bean sprouts and ngo gai (don't know the English word for it).

...and a plateful of lemons and chopped chili peppers

How to describe this bowl of goodness? Let's start with the broth...
I don't know about other people, but what makes pho pho is the broth. True pho is a rigorous undertaking. Beef is cooked overnight until the meat falls off the bones and becomes tender. The broth, sweetened from the beef bones and meat, is saved to make pho. Most pho broth at other places are flavored by prepackaged pho flavorings. You taste that artificial flavoring immediately because it lacks a certain depth to the flavor. Not at Pho Le.

The broth here was sweet and I could taste that bit of fattiness from the meat. I also squeezed in lime to add a bit of sourness and chili peppers for spiciness. This combo of sweet, sour, and spicy was perfect, and attacked my taste buds with every slurp.
The meat was really, really tender not like that tough meat I've been eating at most other places here. It had a bit of fat and muscle still on it. I knew eating all that fatty tissue wasn't good for me, but dang, it was so good.

Look at that...so beautiful.
The bowls here are HUGE, but I finished the whole thing because it was just that good. I really can't describe how good it is, but it's the type of good that you just want to keep returning back to eat. I've never, ever had pho this good, which is saying a lot because before eating here, I swore that no one could ever make pho as good as my mom. But this place...it's just that good. Everyone in my family that has been here all agrees that it is the best place.
The final stamp of approval that seals it all...my mom's. My mom criticizes every bowl of pho she doesn't make herself, often with good reason. But even she agrees that the pho is good here. Also, my aunt, (pictured on the right) agreed and her tastebuds are shot due to sickness.

I didn't think I would find a bowl to rival my mom's, but I did. And I am oh, so much happier for it.

Pho Le
413-415 Nguyen Trai
Phuong 7, Quan 5, Saigon

Foods of the North

Northern Vietnamese food? Ehhhh...not my taste. Having grown up on southern Vietnamese cooking, my taste buds are accustomed to lots of delicious veggies, spices, and not eating pets (Dog meat is very normal in the north. I saw a restaurant sign that read, "Dog Meat, Cat Meat, and Meats of all kinds..The majority of Southerners just shudder at the thought of it). Northern food is a lot meatier with less vegetables. This may be because the south dominates in terms of agricultural production, producing the majority of country's rice, fruits, and vegetables. Northern food also tasted very bland to me. None of the dishes I had came jampacked with all the flavors I so love in Southern cooking. I could blame it on the restaurants I went to, but every single place I went to pretty much sucked and I went to some pretty nice, high-end places.

However, despite my "ehh" for Northern food, there were some notable dishes that did stand out.

Hanoi Pho
-Hanoi is supposedly the birthplace of pho and where the beef noodle dish, iconic in Vietnamese cuisine, reaches a whole other level of fanaticism not found anywhere else in Vietnam. I've heard two sides--"Hanoi pho is simply the best place to eat pho in all of Vietnam" and "Hanoi pho is so awful and nothing special compared to southern pho."
My verdict? It's good, but still not as good as pho found in the South. The North eats their pho without much vegetables, no hoisen/chili sauce, and lots and lots of MSG (in Hanoi, you have to tell the waiter "pho with no MSG" or you're in for a fistful of MSG for every bowl you ingest...blegh). The broth was good--sort of sweet and savory (thanks to the MSG) and the meat was tender. However, without the vegetables and condiments to flavor it like I'm used to, it felt "boring" to me. No color and none of that sweet/spicy broth that I love to slurp with my noodles. In all, Hanoi pho was not bad, but nothing spectacular as all the talk would suggest.

Snail
-I didn't get to eat snail in Saigon yet, so I was excited when I saw a plateful of snails served while up North. It was alright! Very chewy. The snail itself didn't have any standout flavor, other than tasting like a chewy piece of muscle. It was steamed and served without any sauce to dip it in. I popped a few in, more for the fun of pulling them out of their shell. I do wonder, though, if these snails are farmed or were caught wild...

Mountain goat spring rolls
-I visited the Ninh Binh region, where billboards advertising delicious mountain goat meat were in front of nearly every restaurant. Mountain goats in this area are free-roaming and can be seen everywhere. The restaurant I visited served mountain goat meat with spring rolls. Seasoned with sesame seeds and placed atop a bit of mint leaves on rice paper (that didn't need to be dipped in water), the mountain goat lost all of the gamey taste I would assume free-ranging mountain goats would have. It was good, kinda sweet like barbecued beef. However, it didn't taste like beef or any other meat I have ever ate for that matter. It didn't taste like chicken, that's for sure. The meat was very tough and chewy, but quite good. In a spring roll and dipped in sweet garlic sauce, this was one dish I really enjoyed.

Com Chay (Burnt Rice)
-Looks like rice crispy treats, but tastes like a fattier version of rice cakes. This was a popular sidedish at nearly every restaurant I visited up North. It didn't really taste like anything, but the texture was a nice contrast to the other foods served in the meal. It's really fatty, despite its plain look. It is fried in animal fat. Mmmm...animal fat.

Beef soup
-Kinda like crab soup we eat in the south, but with beef. Blegh...disgusting. The texture was so thick, not soupy at all...like eating booger textured soup or something. And the beef pieces didn't help with the globby texture.

Banh Com
-At first when I heard banh com, I thought Vietnamese rice crispies. But in the north, banh com is actually these dessert treats. The outside is a sweet and sticky layer of green goodness (I believe it is made out of some sort of flour--it's used in a lot of Viet desserts but I'm not sure exactly what it is called). Inside is a green bean filling. These things are GOOD. Unfortunately, I only bought a few because they expire after four days. Banh com specifically made from this place in Hanoi is supposed to be the best.

Lychee
-The best of the north. Southern weather isn't very conducive to growing lychee, which is a fruit found especially in the northern region. We bought 2 kilograms and finished it all within a day. It was so sweet and juicy. Back in the States, if you're lucky you can get some in the Asian supermarket, but never as big and fresh as you can find them in North Vietnam. Just eating these guys beats the not-so-great food I ate my entire time up north.

At the 'Love Market'

If only love can be so easily found like a trip to the market...but oh wait, it can! At least in Sapa, where a tradition known as Cho Tinh (love market) is how the H'mong and Dzao minorities find their one true love. The love market is as literal as the name suggests. A few times a year, young H'mong and Dzao people from all over gather at this love market, where they meet up and select their future spouse.

The tradition is as follows--young males gather into a group, in which they perform a song (by flute) and dance to impress their potential mates. Female onlookers will express their interest by approaching the specific male that catches their fancy and cover them with an umbrella. From there, the newly matched lovebirds will go off and do their thing. And that is love.

Of course, as everything is in Sapa nowadays, this old tradition has been converted into a touristy attraction. In the central town of Sapa, a market is set up where this love market performance can be experienced by visitors every Saturday. I visited Sapa on a Saturday, believing that I was going to witness the love market in its natural form, but was disappointed to only be treated to a stage performance by people dressed up as the H'mong and Dzao (I believe that the love market, in its traditional sense, can still be found away from tourists, as it should be). However, I wasn't disappointed for long because alongside the hubbub of touristy tricks was an actual market with many ethnic minorities selling authentic handmade items.

There are distinct circles (of hierarchy) that make up the market. The outer circle is populated by Vietnamese merchants, selling lame tourist shit in covered stalls. I avoided those. These merchants have done nothing but take the traditionally handmade items and mass produced them, stealing business away from the ethnic minorities. Sure, the stuff they sell is perfectly made and beautifully presented, but they aren't authentic and only contributes to deep poverty experienced by the ethnic minorities in this region.

The inner circle is where the authentic items are sold. Laid out in the middle of the market, is a colorful mix match of beautifully embroidered H'mong purses, clothing, and scarves.

It is common to see the sellers busily embroidering their merchandise, only lifting up their heads when passer-byers squat down and express interest in their items.


The dyes used are all natural, extracted from plants such as tea leaves and tumeric. Because it is natural, they easily stain and wear off, making some of the fabric look a bit washed out or dirty. This may deter many people, but this is actually a sign of the authenticity of the fabric. If you look at the hands of H'mong sellers in the market, they are all stained a bluish-black. My fingers were stained from simply flipping through all the fabric (you can set the dye at home in a bath of water and salt).

I bought a lot of stuff. A LOT. I couldn't help myself. Everything they made was so beautiful and handcrafted with so much skill. The very cheap prices also made it all the more tempting. The time and craftsmanship required to embroider and dye the fabric would make these items super expensive in the States. Here, you can bargain down the prices to 10,000-50,000 dong (50 cents to 2 1/2 dollars).

In terms of bargaining, 50-60% the asking price is about how much I paid. For example, if the asking price is 80,000 dong, I bargained for 40,000 dong. If the seller said no then I would move on. The moment I turned around to go somewhere else, the price would drop to 70% and eventually to 50% when held my ground. My advice is to bargain, but be kind. If you see something you really like and you can't bargain down the price, just buy it since it is still very cheap by our standards and you are also helping out the sellers.

All the sellers were incredibly sweet, even as I was bargaining with them. Most of the older women spoke limited Vietnamese, only able to speak enough Vietnamese to bargain. The young girls, however, spoke perfect English. I found the older women more willing to bargain than the younger ones. However, there was this 15 year-old H'mong girl that was unwilling to bargain, but her sweetness made us returning customers.

While I was excited and wanted to buy everything they sold, most of the H'mong sellers making the inner circle of the market did not attract many buyers. Most tourists flock to the stalls. Even after an entire day of selling, many of the H'mong sellers didn't even have enough change for me. It was very upsetting, especially when you see little H'mong kids selling alongside their moms while crowds of tourists pass by and don't even give them a second look.

If you ever go to Cho Tinh in Sapa, I would recommend buying solely from the ethnic minorities and avoid the stalls. To ensure the authenticity of the items, look at the hands of the sellers. They are usually stained from the natural dyes of the fabric. Also, be careful of imposters who dress up as ethnic minorities but are really just Vietnamese (so despicable). You can easily tell who they are since they don't look anything like the other H'mong sellers and they speak perfect Vietnamese. And of course, be careful of pick-pocketers who swarm to this market like crazy. Usually, they are males who act as fellow tourists and follow you around the market. There are a lot of these creeps around, so be careful.

So sure, there is no more love at the love market, but there are some incredibly beautiful and unique items to be bought. It was one of my favorite visits in Sapa, where I was able to interact with some of the H'mong sellers and learn a bit about their culture. And yes, I do have souvenirs to bring back for you guys.

To Sapa, with love

I have never visited a place more beautiful than Sapa. Even the old-world charm of Paris cannot rival my newfound love for this mountainous region, home to a number of Vietnam’s ethnic minorities. I’ve seen Sapa in pictures--many of which capture the morning fog hovering over Sapa’s iconic terraced rice fields--and briefly learned about the ethnic minorities populating this region in college. Never did I expect, however, that a short visit to this region would leave such a heavy impression on me.

Perhaps it was the beautiful scenery of the terraced rice fields, the cool weather that brought forth a case of homesickness I’ve been trying so hard to suppress, or the heartbreaking sweetness of the ethnic minorities with whom I was fortunate to interact? Or, was it the frustration I felt with the exploitative tourist industry that treats the ethnic minorities as nothing more than showcases to lure in visitors while pocketing all the money and leaving none for the local people? Or, was it the despicable actions of the tourists themselves, many of whom were incredibly disrespectful to the ethnic minorities and ignorant to the poverty they experience?

It’s been a week since my visit and I’m still thinking of Sapa and all that I witnessed during my stay there. I can’t let go of the incredible beauty of the region. Those terraced rice fields are not only breathtaking scenery to be admired, but they are an agricultural genius and evidence that, while uneducated in formal schooling, the ethnic minorities are the sole experts in this region.


I also can’t let go of the heartbreaking sweetness of the locals. I use the term heartbreaking because the ethnic minorities have all the reason to be resentful of outsiders, who come in and gawk at them, intrude on their lives, and force them to conform to our societal structure, but they were nothing but welcoming and genuinely interested to learn about our lives. I was fortunate enough to visit a Dzao village, one of the five ethnic minorities that inhabit this region (before, there were over 60 groups).

Immediately when I got out of the car, I was swarmed by a group of Dzao women, who began throwing questions at me, “Where are you from?” “What’s your name?” “Do you like Sapa?” Together, walking alongside Dzao women and children (the men were in the fields working), passing their stilt houses, I felt I was in another world, but not for a single moment did I feel awkward or uninvited. The women made sure that wasn’t the case.
I also can’t shake off the memory of the cutest little baby boy, named Ta, whom I played with in the village. Just a little over a year old, chubby little Ta was strapped to his mom’s back and every time I looked at him, he smiled this cute, dimpled smile and hid his face in shyness. He was the cutest little thing and it broke my heart having to leave knowing that Ta, like most of the children in the village, will not get an education and be forced to live a life peddling souvenirs to insensitive tourists.

And the 15 year-old girl H’mong girl selling handmade items in the central market, who gave me a friendship bracelet after returning over and over to purchase from her… and the older H’mong ladies we bargained with…
...and the little kids, covered in dirt that we passed in the mountainside…and the little H’mong baby playing with his dad, who sold bitter watermelon that no one seemed to buy…

Most of all, I can’t let go of the frustration I feel toward the tourist industry in Sapa, which I will discuss in another blog entry. The injustice and the disgusting scenes I witnessed is something I will never forget.

Sapa is a land of beautiful scenery, genuinely sweet locals, and a region facing complex issues concerning exploitation, clashes in old world vs. modern social values, and poverty. This mixture of incredible beauty and sadness that I witnessed is why Sapa has such a hold on me. I want to see more, learn more, and spend more time there. I don’t know if I will ever have an opportunity to return again. I will most likely never see little Ta again or the same sellers in the market I had grown fond of. But as corny as this sounds, I will carry with me my experiences—both good and bad—everywhere I go, so even if I never return again, I will at least have my memories of Sapa.

Eating Hot Vit Lon (Duck fetus): A guide

Called hot vit lon in Vietnamese, duck fetus is considered a delicacy all over Southeast Asia. A lot of people are grossed out by the thought of eating these little guys, as they should be--the fetuses are cooked while they are still alive. Despite the general "ick factor" around the thought of eating a fetus and the cruelty of it all, they are quite delicious! Here's my guide to eating hot vit lon, Viet style:

Step 1: Purchase your hot vit lon from a street vendor, preferably from a local vendor who pushes a cartful of these delicacies around your neighborhood so you don't have to go anywhere other than step outside your door. For 9,500 dong (about 45 cents), I got two eggs.

If cleanliness is a concern, don't even bother eating it. This certainly isn't for the squeamish.

Step 2: Tap the egg from the roundest end with a small spoon.

Step 3: Once you have tapped the top, peel enough of the eggshell off so that you can see the top of the duck fetus. Inside the egg is fetus broth. A fresh egg is one that still has its sweet broth inside. Sip up! I'm told it's good for you.
Step 4: Put a small spoonful of condiments inside. The type of condiment mix depends on your taste. Most people eat it with pepper, salt, and lime. What I have here is a mix of pepper, salt, lime, and chili garlic.
Step 5: And now, enjoy!

Natural Wonders of North Vietnam

For the past week, I've been exploring the geological wonders that make up north Vietnam. North Vietnam is home to a number of AMAZING geological sites, many of which left me awestruck by their natural beauty. Most notable of these sites is Ha Long Bay, one of the natural wonders of the world and one of the must-see destinations that make up my list of places to visit before I die.

"Ha Long" translates to "descending dragon" in Vietnamese, a name alluding to the many mythical tales describing the formation of this famous geological wonder characterized by over three thousand rock islands scattered throughout a great expanse of water. One of these tales credit the formation of these rock islands to a dragon descending from flight. The steps the dragon made in descent left huge imprints that formed the rock islands we see today.


A typical tour of Ha Long Bay consists of a boat ride to visit the Thien Cung and the Hang Do Go caves. These caves are worth the trip in the suffocating northern Vietnamese heat--the stalactites and the stagalymites inside these caves are spectacular. The lights that illuminate these caves only add to their natural beauty, formed by 700,000 years of water seepage.


The Hang Do Go caves ("wooden stakes caves") is a famous site in Vietnamese history. It is said to be the place where Tran Hung Dau, a legendary Vietnamese military commander, secretly stored wooden stakes used to defeat Mongol enemies in the 13th century.


One ticket to visit these caves is 40,000 dong (around $2), which includes the boat ride there, the entry fee to these caves, and a boat ride back. These caves are EXTREMELY popular, so they get super packed by early morning. I was walking heel to heel with other visitors, which made the trek through these caves very uncomfortable (not to mention the unbearable heat and humidity). Because it is popular, there are also a lot of pick-pocketers so BE CAREFUL. If carrying a purse, keep it in front of you. Don't put anything in the pockets of your pants. My mom had an old lady, of all people, put her hands down my mom's pants, where our passports were kept. Luckily, my mom grabbed the old woman's hands away in time or I wouldn't be leisurely writing this blog right now.

Other tips:
-Don't go early in the morning. I went around 7am and at that time, the morning haze had not even settled yet so it was difficult to clearly see all the islands and take good pictures. The best time to go is during the afternoon, around 12pm. The only problem is that this is when the rush of tourists start coming in and when the day's heat is at its worst. I would still recommend going at this time because I felt a bit disappointed not being able to fully view Ha Long Bay when it is most beautiful.
-Wear some good walking shoes. Other than the colored lights that illuminate the caves, they are poorly lit. It is also very muddy and with so many people pushing and shoving to get through the caves, you can easily fall down the slippery stairs like Tammy did.
-If you have the time and money, try to go beyond the typical visit to these caves and spend a night on the bay on the boat-hotels. I'm not really sure how expensive these are (I'm assuming they are very expensive), but this allows you to avoid the crowd and see other rock-islands at Ha Long Bay. Simply, if possible, arrange a more specialized tour. I wasn't able to and am super disappointed that I wasn't able to see more of Ha Long Bay.
-Again, be careful about pick-pocketers. I can't emphasize that enough. My bag was opened during the hustle and bustle of the caves. Pick-pocketers mask as fellow visitors--old women and children, especially. As sad as it sounds, don't trust anyone other than the people you go with.

Along with Ha Long Bay, I visited Trang An caves in the Ninh Binh province. A trip through the Trang An caves consists of a hand-rowed boat ride through six caves, all surrounded by beautiful mountain scenery. There is also an option to see ancient temples, but skip those because they are only recently rebuilt models.





Trang An is not yet a popular tourist destination in that region, having just opened two years ago. The more popular visit in the Ninh Binh region is the Tam Coc caves. I would recommend going to Trang An instead to avoid the crowds that surely flock to Tam Coc and ruin the natural habitat with litter, as is the case at all of Vietnam's popular touristy attractions.

In all, I really enjoyed my geological adventure up north. Vietnam doesn't really seem like the place to go for a trek through mountains or ancient caves, but it is really a burgeoning industry here. Just don't litter like everyone else does at these places. So frustrating!

Desserts: Che Thai

This is quite possibly the best Vietnamese dessert I have ever had. Che Thai, adapted from a Thai dessert, is a sort of soupy concoction of fruits served over ice. I am usually not a fan of Vietnamese che, which can range from a gelatanous texture resembling runny boogers (sorry for the gross description, but that's how it looks like to me) with all sorts of beans and jelly treats to a milky smooth texture. I always found Vietnamese che too sweet and the fruit condiments (which often come out of a can in the States) not fresh, so I wasn't all that excited about che thai when my family suggested I try some. What I had at Y Phuong, however, a very popular Che Thai joint in Saigon, erased all of my discriminations about Vietnamese che from the first spoonful of goodness I scooped in my mouth.

Y Phuong is among the many che thai restaurants the line the street of Nguyen Tri Phuong in District 10 and is the most popular. The place takes up three buildings with multiple floors that quickly fill up in the evening.

The place has all types of che, but che thai is the local favorite. What makes the che thai at Y Phuong than any other place is that the milk is the perfect amount of sweetness and the fruits are fresh. The typical cup of che thai with everything is served with creamy durian at the top, coconut jelly, grass jelly, jackfruit, lychee, and a few more exotic fruit I was unable to recognize. You can also customize your che thai to your liking, which is good for many who are not especially fond of eating the notoriously smelly durian fruit. But, I will say that the durian makes the dessert--the creaminess of the durian topping balancing the sweetness of the milk.

One cup was around 17,000 dong--less than $1.

For those on the go with a craving for che thai, there is also a roadside pickup right outside of the restaurant. Packaged in little plastic baggies and stored in ice, you can just zoom up on your motorbike and pick up a bagful to bring home for your family to enjoy.


My goal is to return to this place as often as I can while I am in Vietnam. You can't find che thai as fresh as this anywhere in the States.

Y Phuong
380, Nguyen Tri Phuong
Q10, HCMC

A glimpse at what could have been

Life is a bunch of could haves, should haves, and would haves. "If I could have done that, then things would have been different... I should have done that..." Even at this tender age, with the little life experience that I have had, I think back to some of the choices I've made and spend sleepless nights wondering how things would have been different if I had done this differently or if on that particular day I was in a different mood and made the opposite decision...maybe... maybe....

So, I can't imagine how it would feel for a person who has actually lived many lives and was forced to make crucial life decisions that determined the thin line between survival and death. Even more difficult to grasp is how one would feel when the life they would have lived is presented to them years later, forcing them to relive a very painful past. On our trip to Cambodia, my Mom did just that.

I didn't realize how connected our family history was to this country until we entered it. Passing through the Cambodian countryside, my Mom began to tell stories of my Dad's time spent in this country as a soldier training for the war. After my Dad was injured, he was stationed in Cambodia and after he escaped from prison, my parents sold medicine on the black market at the Vietnam/Cambodia border. My parents regularly traded with Cambodians and on many instances, were kindly offered their homes to hide in.

Because of this past, my Mom has a special fondness for Cambodia, saying that all the Cambodians she met were kind to her, especially at a time when a little kindness from strangers could have led to their own imprisonment. It is this very fondness that led her to juggle with the decision made over 20 years ago to escape to Cambodia or to smuggle themselves out of Vietnam into a refugee camp and attempt to gain asylum in America.

Obviously, the better choice was made. But traveling in this country with her, it was clear to me how difficult it was for my Mom to confront the life she could have led in this country, especially when we visited the precise place she would have lived if she had chosen to live in Cambodia.

Tonle Sap Lake, the largest freshwater river in Southeast Asia and home to a large ethnic Vietnamese community, who live on floating villages scattered all over the lake. Many of the ethnic Vietnamese that live here have no citizenship status in either Vietnam or Cambodia. It is this precise reason why Tonle Sap was an attractive option for my parents--My Dad's status as an escaped war prisoner meant that he was unable to live a life in Vietnam without the constant fear of getting caught and so, leaving all that behind for a life with literally no status was a more than attractive option.

But the downside was (and still is) that with no citizenship status in either country, those living on the lake are forced to stay there without much opportunity to leave and seek a better life elsewhere. This was the Tonle Sap my Mom came back to--a very poor floating community of displaced people.

The poverty of the ethnic Vietnamese living on Tonle Sap was traumatizing. Our tour boat first passed idyllic scenes of life on the river, of people casting wide nets to fish and taking a bath in the muddy brown river.



Then, without warning, we were all forced to confront our own privilege when children surrounded our boat to beg for money. Children, carrying snakes to attract the attention of tourists, climbed onto our boats to both shock us with these creatures and beg for money. Their practiced cries and attempts to get a few Vietnamese dongs out of us were heartbreaking. Seeing them forced to beg to survive, their parents commandeering their boats in a sort of 'this-is-all-very-normal-to- exploit-my-children-to-survive' air to them was all very difficult to take.

This little girl with the snake around her neck especially killed me. She looks so young, too young to be crying to all the boat passengers for money. But when someone did give her some money, there was a flicker between the moment she accepted the money and when she placed it into her pocket that made her look so old beyond her years. I can't explain it, but that small moment made the situation so, so sad.

We were then taken to a floating Vietnamese school, where the children all greeted us excitedly. I didn't see any books or any residue of a day spent teaching on the blackboard, just a brightly colored schoolroom with nearly a 100 kids packed into a small room and a donation box smartly positioned at the front.


The whole situation at the school screamed of exploitation to me. I can't know for sure whether this was all set up, but it all seemed odd and even more so when other visitors around me took this opportunity as a photo-op to document their own self-congratulatory acts of kindness by taking pictures and videos of their deeds. My skepticism made the situation seem sadder--that the livelihood of this community was wrapped around the dollars of self-congratulatory tourists.

But what really made it emotional was the personal angle of it all. I couldn't help but think, "This could have been my parents life...my life." At the school, I kept thinking of my oldest brother and the life he might have led here. He could have been one of those kids at the school and my parents fishermen, scraping by with what they can. The rest of us kids probably wouldn't have even been born and if we were, who knows, we might have also been one of the begging kids. The personal aspect of it, of course, hit my mom the hardest. She was crying throughout the boat ride and even more so when we left. I asked her what she was thinking and she told me that she couldn't stop thinking of us and the life we would have led there if her decision to leave Vietnam turned out differently. "Our life would have been over," she told me. I had no reason to argue otherwise.

In confronting the 'what could have beens' on this trip, my Mom was distraught at having to face the life she could have led. Both choices were carefully thought out with the sole goal to survive, but seeing the stark harshness of one life compared to the one we live now was really upsetting to her. One small shift in her decision making at the time could have changed all of our lives. For me, grasping the enormity of this one decision my Mom made years back makes me respect her even more. How could she have known at the time what the better choice was? There was no way. But, she made that difficult decision and here we are now, all of us kids getting a world-class education with more opportunity than all of our past and present family in Vietnam.

The lesson I've learned from all this is that while life can be a bunch of could haves, should haves, and would haves, we have to live with the decisions we made and make the most of it. Sometimes, they turn out for the better and while it is good to recognize the life we could have led, it is even better and wiser to appreciate the life we are leading.

More bites and other ailments

At this point, I would think that mosquitoes are sick of biting me, but I guess they just love my blood. Amy's grandfather once told me that mosquitoes love biting Americans because of all the hamburgers we eat. Well, here's to all the In and Out burgers I scarfed down:

My legs are a scabby mess from all the bites and the scratching, not to mention the new bites I get everyday that swell up to an unimaginable tumor-like size.

I also got a burn spot from riding a motorbike. A word of advice--when getting off a motorbike, always get off on the left side to avoid getting your legs burned from the hot exhaust pipe on the right side. My burn is at the peeling stage. I could easily rub it and my burnt skin will fall off.

Oh yeah, I also got freaking tapeworm and am on laxatives to rid of them. Yeah....

Mmmm...Crickets

We stopped by a "bug market" on our way to Phnom Penh and I couldn't resist the urge to try some insect delicacies. Bugs are pretty standard fare in Cambodia, where they are normally eaten with rice. Insect catching contraptions, made out of huge white tarp and hung on wooden sticks, are also found everywhere in the countryside.

This particular market had a whole bunch of insect, either sold fresh and cooked right then and there for you or those already cooked. When I got off the bus, sellers (mainly young girls) swarmed at us, trying to convince us to purchase all types of bugs.

Tarantula. *Shudder* I would have tried it if I didn't see the live version. Right when I got off the bus, they shoved this live tarantula in my face and I immediately lost my appetite.
Tarantulas are roasted and eaten whole.
This mountain of spiders looks appetizing, doesn't it?

Praying Mantis. I found these guys too pretty to eat. Beetles. They looked too much like cockroaches for me to stomach.

I stuck to crickets, which I considered a safer bet. These crickets are fried to a crispy goodness.

For 1,000 riel (only a few American cents), I got a small bag of crickets.

This little girl sold me the crickets also showed me how to eat them. You can either take off the wings and legs or just pop the whole bug in your mouth.
I was a bit hesitant at first because they really do look gross. I couldn't stop thinking about how it would look in my mouth as I would chew them--the body oozing insect juice on my tongue and the head crunching under my teeth. Uggh.
But, I got over myself and just popped the whole thing in my mouth. It was crunchy and honestly tasted like chips, a little salty like shrimp chips. No oozing insect juice. I was so surprised by the familiar taste that I began popping them in my mouth as if eating a bag of chips.

I ended eating most of it because I got hungry during my bus ride. One thing that really bothered me was the legs, which got stuck between my teeth so I spent much time during the rest of the bust ride to Phnom Penh irritatingly trying to pick them out.