But then it got better....

Because Matt & Jill came!  Matt & Jill!  Matt & Jill!  Matt & Jill!  Look how cute:

In our 48 hours together, we covered quite a bit of ground - conversationally, bondingly, and block-wise.  Seeing our buddies from NYC in Saigon was fantastico and we wish they could have stayed indefinitely. 

On our first evening together we accidentally landed ourselves in a hostess bar where we drank some beers and gorged on free peanuts.  After a wander through the city and several boutiques we made it to a fab restaurant recommended by M&J's tour company. 

The second day we had quite a bit more time and a hefty agenda.  In the morning Ed & I finally found the much beloved/discussed French style pastries at a nearby patiserie and checked out the Ho Chi Minh museum across the river.  Then the four of us gathered for a banh mi tasting (3 kinds, 5 sandwiches, homahgah) at a corner stand. 

Afterwards we visited the war remnants museum which was extensive, humid, and heartbreaking.  I'd like to learn more about the war that took place here, but the museum didn't serve the purpose of filling the gaps.  Its aim is to outline the atrocities that took place in Vietnam, exhibit an incredible collection of photographs by journalists who traveled with the military, and publicize the long term effects to both humans and the environment of the toxins dropped there. 

This last lesson wasn't something we needed to visit a museum to learn about.  The effects of Agent Orange can be seen all over the city of Saigon and probably the rest of Vietnam...  Through the 90s, babies were still being born with serious physical deformities as a result of their parents' exposure.  Impacted residents of Saigon, many of them beggars, suffer from spina bifida, dwarfism, deformed limbs, blindness or missing eyes, and a range of other serious health issues.  Its devastating to witness but important, I think, to see.

Thoroughly shocked after visiting the "Tiger Cages" at the museum, we four were ready for something on the lighter side.  We visited the massive Ben Thanh market, drank some insanely delicious and cracky iced coffee and bought ourselves some trinkets.

In the evening we headed to the rooftop bar of the Sheraton for an overpriced apertif and view of the city and then to the truly delectable Hoa Tuc for dinner.  A lovely little spot tucked in the rear of a courtyard and away from the non-stop motorbike buzz of Saigon, we had a feast and hours of sparkly conversation. 

M&J's visit put our visit here back on track.  Our time together tipped the scale from annoyed/overwhelmed to amused/interested.  Having friends rulez.

Hamburg, Thailand

Running across German tourists anywhere on earth is unsurprising.  I believe the term "wanderlust" is from the original German.  These folks are everywhere.

Add to the globetrotting culture the direct flights from Europe to Krabi (the launch point for many island ferries) and you have a veritable Novemberfest.  Hours on end pass without us hearing a word of Thai spoken; there are Thai people around but they tend to be soft spoken and haven't been sucking down Singhas since sunrise.

We occasionally have to remind ourselves that we are, indeed, in Thailand.  For Ed this means ordering (another) atomically spicy papaya salad.  For moi, an equally brutal/addictive sensory experience: more Thai massage.  I bring this up to say that there are a worthy lessons to be learned from our Deutsche beachgoers in just 3 short days.  FYI.

- Fear not, trashy Americanas.  Some of you regret the tramp stamp you had inked on spring break to Nassau but, alas, this is a perfect inky complement to a triangle bikini if you are a Germany lady between the ages of 20-45.
- The beach is an EXCELLENT place to bring very small children on a family holiday.  During the day, toddlers are free to explore their fear of surf as they bound into neck-deep white caps unattended.  Or, while Ma & Pa sit at the beach bar, the tykes can choose to nap it out in their stroller.  Which will be parked safely out of sight of grown ups alongside the driveway in a shady spot.
- If you are a German man over the age of 40 and you do not already have permanently tanned skin do not, under any circumstances, wear sunscreen.  Obviously turning the color of boiled crawfish will fool the Thai waitresses into thinking you've got a bitchin' tan. 
- Although running or competitive walking is a mandatory bullet on the daily agenda, don't bother bringing athletic gear.  If you're a middle aged woman, just wear your underpants to exercise on the beach.  No one will even notice.
- When you observe someone snapping a pic and feel that you are the superior photographer, by all means take that person aside and instruct them on how to capture the shot you just took.
- Doing yoga in a bikini in front of a crowded beach bar is meditative.  Its not a performance, and its certainly not indicative of daddy issues.  Obviously.

All of that said, I'll take these folks over the Jersey Shore crew any day.  At least we can't understand what they're saying.  And, we end each day with this.  Solid.

We were vaguely offended...

when Ed suggested we take a "before" photo.  This was last weekend on a Saturday night out for the four of us.  I borrowed Molly's hairdryer and actually applied makeup, and then we hit the town Tokyo style.

At dinner at one of M&A's favorite burger joints: Burger Mania in Ebisu

Following dinner and a walk through fancy expat-ville, we arrived at Hannah's bangin b-day party where we got down to some soul music dancing and serious cocktailing.  Because the trains here stop running between midnight and 1, we had to split before we would've liked, and the four of us sprinted through a couple of stations to avoid a hefty cab fare.  But when we returned to Sangenjaya, we weren't quite ready to pack it in.  So we hit up Toki's 80's bar, which has no table charge and 500 yen drinks.  Also, an unbelievable selection of 80's music videos, played on request.

A fellow patron, clearly a regular, told us that Toki the proprietor is basically a human Shazam.  The Aussie claims he had hummed countless tunes across the bar and that Toki, without fail, could name that tune (and usually find the accompanying video).  Same dude also schooled us on Jimmy Barnes, the "Australian Bruce Springsteen."  Once we had wrapped up a rock block of Australian 80s music - Air Supply, Men at Work, Midnight Oil, INXS - the dance party started. 

I guess this would be the 'after'...  George Michael, y'all:

There are plenty more museums to be visited, mountains to be climbed, and temples to be awe-struck by on this trip.  But when I look back on our time in Tokyo, I'm certain that one of my fondest memories will be of belting out "Freedom" with my best friend and a bar full of strangers at 2 am in a neighborhood joint.  Followed immediately by a fit of hysterical laughter and a big steaming bowl of ramen.  Best.

Tokyo Calling

Being in Tokyo sort of feels like a vacation from our trip.  We've both spent time here before, its insanely comfortable and completely safe and, most importantly, Molly & Andrew are here!

Molly and I have finally been able to fulfill our lifelong dream of living in the same building.  The cherry on our friendship sundae is that Sue was here for the first few days, and the 3 of us had time for the girlish shenanigans of yore.

All these months, Ed has endured when asked for comment on such pressing topics as: bob haircuts, Lady Gaga's "Alejandro," and ab workouts.  Without fail, he stays engaged and holds eye contact even as his brain shuts down and a small part of his soul withers and dies.  So, I think we were both happy and relieved to turn the estrogen-related responsibilities back over to the professionals.

At a wrestling-themed bar in Golden Gai.  This is prior to robot-hands McCaffrey getting me into a half nelson.  We illustrated a valuable lesson this evening: when caffeinated tea is used as a mixer, everyone stays out later.

Old stuff

We really enjoyed our time in Shanghai, but I remarked to both our friends and to Ed that it was surprising to me that no trace of old Shanghai glamor was to be found.  The deco architecture is preserved and the European influence remains, but everywhere you look is modernity.  Facsimiles of legendary 1930s Shanghai abound; clearly I'm not the only mo who wants to see this.  Renovations across the Bund and beyond promise restoration to Shanghai's storied past.  The reality, though, is that Shanghai is a thoroughly modern city and these renovations are just copies of copies of copies...

No where was this more in evidence than the evening that Allison, Ed and I visited a club/bar called Chinatown.  A 3 story bar with a stage in a converted 1930s Buddhist temple brought to us by the dream team behind the Slipper Room and the Box in NYC, Chinatown promises an evening variety show, tawdry burlesque, old fashioned cocktails, etc.  And as it turned out, the cocktails were fantastic, and the space was beautiful renovated.  The evening, overall, was pretty fun but that was largely due to our amusing ourselves with running commentary.  The experience is supposed to be 1934, but this is 2010 and even with vodka and imagination, that couldn't be ignored. 

The performers weren't drunk or high on opium or for hire; they were expats, failed actresses most likely, who clearly take vitamins and get plenty of sleep and keep head shots behind the bar.  We wondered aloud what one of the male performers, a Frank Sinatra type, had done or not done to land himself a regular gig here.  We concluded work release program.  The juggling clown, when offered a shot by a drunken bachelorette, declined saying "oh, I can't, I have to perform again later."  The Chinatown girls had clearly been instructed to wander about the club between acts, wearing flapperish dresses and smoking out of long handled cigarette holders.  The crowd was mainly expats in chinos, many on business trips; there wasn't even an illusion to be ruined. 

The whole conceit, from the Cabaret-imitating emcee to the awkward burlesque felt contrived and controlled.  But I should have known better.  China is a nation obsessed with progress, happily leveling historic buildings and converting temples into night clubs. 

Did I really expect the glamor and recklessness of the 1930s to remain in Shanghai, where the government doesn't allow access to Facebook?

The Economics of the Cluster

I did piss-poorly in the 3 mandatory levels of economics I had to take in college. One professor, in particular, passed me out of sheer pity. He and I both knew that I hadn't grasped a single concept the entire semester and that a repeat performance would, in all
likelihood, result in the same outcome. Since then, I've picked up some snippets here and there. You know, like how competition works in the marketplace. That differentiation on price, product, location are key drivers for profit. That supply should keep pace with demand and that an identical business opening next door to yours will, in all
likelihood, eat in to your customer base.

So, the Chinese market principles we've seen in Beijing are nothing short of confounding. Yesterday we went to "Glasses City." This is a city block (about 1/8 mile) of 4 story malls containing nothing but glasses shops. As a tourist, wandering around store after store is
amusing and overwhelming. As a shop owner, it must be exhausting. Most of the stores have overlapping merchandise. Without even beginning to bargain, a salesperson might offer 50% off of the listed prices. I guess when you have 300 stores within spitting distance (Don't get me started on the spitting. In restaurants! People just spit on the floor! Like, someone has to mop that up later. Please. Gross.) you do what you have to to make a sale. Ed had an eye exam, frames, and prescription lenses done in 20 minutes for $25.

The overcrowded marketplace isn't limited to the optical business. You see this trend all over Beijing, particularly on the bar streets.  Bar culture in China is only about 30 years old, and is pretty much ring-fenced to certain areas. Wandering down a street or hutong, you aren't going to run into a neighborhood watering hole. But when you go to a bar street and see the fierceness of the competition and the number of choices available to the drinking public, you scratch your head.

About a week ago, we went to Sanlitun bar area (or barea, as we're calling them) with a crew of Dutch girls we met at the Red Lantern and our new friend Scott. The area is close to the business center of BJ, high rent district. Bar after bar after bar after nasty 3rd Eye
Blind-blaring bar line block after block. The drinks are sold at Western prices (40 RMB/6 US) so the crowd is mostly Western & Chinese businessmen and tourists.  As an aside, we saw a totally amazing Phillipine cover band at the maybe-Western themed bar we chose. We fondly referred to the lead singer as Asian Gwen Stefani, although she had braces and sounded much more like Alanis Morisette. Which was confirmed when she opened with "You Oughta Know."

This corny evening also gave us a chance to examine the mating rituals of the not-so-rare species known as Americanus Bloatus Expatria. These multi-chinned, bright polo-clad males could be seen in the bar buying expensive drinks for equally
expensive, gorgeous, young, Chinese girls/escorts.

The Lake district houses a barea called Houhai - same deal here. Everyone is charging ten times as much for beer as in a restaurant or local store (4 RMB/.60 cents) and thus need to employ hawkers/wranglers to stand outside all night shouting/cajoling/begging
customers to enter their establishments. As people who like bars and beers, this begs the question - why compete? Perhaps there is law governing this? Considering that in
some areas you could walk for miles and never see a bar, it seems like there are easier locations to start your business. Maybe someday Ed and I will return to Beijing to start up a biker/beirut/jukebox concept bar and plop it down amidst a knot of hutongs. Someone needs to give these folks some access to decent music. For serious.