THE CYCLO MAFIA & A HAPPY ENDING

Day 9, March 30^th

The view from our hotel balcony.

Last night was the first night in three nights that I have actually been able to take a decent shower and sleep.  I crashed hard.  This place, The Spring Hotel in the Old Quarter, is nice.  It’s another Patton recommendation.  Far nicer than anything I have ever stayed at while backpacking or would stay at if I were here alone.  I mentioned that we haven’t really stayed at a typically rough backpackers hostel like I am used to.  With eyebrows raised, dad said hopefully we won’t have to.  10-4, General.  I think backpacking is taking its toll.  Moving on.

Considering how long it took us to get to Hanoi, it will take us even longer to get to Luang Prabang, Laos.  We would waste at least two days by bus or train.  We decided to fly, which isn’t bad considering how much money we saved on the leg from Beijing to Hanoi.  Since we are also going to handle visas for Laos and Cambodia in Laos, our day in Hanoi is open.

Mom reading the names of U.S. POWs.

After our morning breakfast, we headed out to the Hoa Lo Prison, commonly known in the US as The Hanoi Hilton.  It is where some of the US POWs were held during the US-Vietnam conflict, most notably Senator John McCain.  One thing I noticed when I was in Vietnam in 2002 and that mom and dad noticed this time is that the US perspective on the US-Vietnam conflict is vastly different than that of the Vietnamese perspective.  The US believes the conflict in Vietnam defined their country because it has defined a generation of Americans.  The reality is that Vietnam has been at war for 100 years and only a portion of those years were the US-Vietnam conflict.  The Vietnamese had been fighting the French colonists for decades as well as wars with Cambodia and Laos.  Hoa Lo Prison, built by the French, indicated this.  The majority of the prison/museum is dedicated to the Vietnamese struggles against France, Cambodia and Laos.  Only two rooms reference the US-Vietnam conflict.

We strolled the streets of Hanoi after the Hilton and stumbled upon a locale eatery.  VERY local.  It was great.  Mom and dad were game.  They just sat down and said to order for them.  We sat on these small plastic chairs at these dirty tables.  I ordered mom the chicken plate and dad and I got pho bo, beef noodle soup, a traditional Vietnamese meal.  While we ate and watched street life pass, we saw several tour busses full of people drive by.  The people on the busses had their faces glued to their windows, looking out, cameras snapping, staring at the strange world they were passing through.  Mom and dad were part of the strange world.  You don’t get to do this on a prearranged tour.

Pho bo, beef noodle soup.

The meal was delicious and only a few dollars.  We did a little more street strolling and it was time to head back to the hotel.


Mom has been begging for a massage since before we left Texas and she was getting one tonight.  She had to go get ready for it.  There were lots of cyclo drivers around, so we decided to take those back to the hotel.  Cyclos are three-wheel cycles with a chair in front.  They give you a first hand look at the craziness of the traffic.  Mom was excited.  In getting the cyclos for our trip back, I committed one of the cardinal sins of backpacking.  Always negotiate a price BEFOREHAND!  I realized it after we had already left.  I turned and asked the driver in the middle of the ride “how much” and he smiled wide and shrugged his shoulders.  Crap!  I was in one cyclo and mom and dad were in another.  We were screwed if we got separated.

During the ride, my cyclo driver took the opportunity to let me know of another service he provides, that of procuring Vietnamese women for companionship and enjoyment of male travelers.   He started by asking me why I didn’t “have woman.”  He said he could get me “nice Vietnamese woman.  Vietnamese woman good.”  I let him know I “have woman.  I have VERY good woman.”  Awkward silence…..

The Negotiation.

We wound through the street until we got to our hotel.  Apparently my driver was the voice of the two.  I asked him how much for the 5 minute ride for all three of us.  His eyes darted around and he said 4,000,000 Dong.  That is $200!  I flipped out.  I asked again, but said I had US dollars.  He said $300!!  I expected a scam, but not to this level.  I walked off and went inside to get our hotel staff.  I sent mom and dad inside so I could settle this.  The hotel staff said we should pay about $2 per person.  We walked outside to “negotiate.”  The mouthpiece of the two drivers couldn’t keep his story straight.  He said we drove around for way over an hour.  He also said we had agreed upon $30 per person.  That’s better than $300, but I’m not doing that at all.  About that time dad comes to join the conversation and asks me what’s up.  I told him that the driver was saying he drove us around for over an hour.  Dad lost it.  He started doing the finger circles around his ear and telling him he was crazy.  Whoa, pull back on the reins there my lil' cowboy, this isn’t 3^rd grade.  Go back inside and I’ll take care of this.  About that time the cyclo driver informs me that he is part of the Cyclo Mafia and we better pay or he will have the Cyclo Mafia after us!  WHAT?!  Is this really happening?  Am I being threatened by grown men who drive tricycles with baskets??  The hotel staffer pulled out her phone and began dialing the police.  The price quickly dropped to $5 per person.  Still a scam, but I paid and they scurried off.  I’m sure they ran back to The Godfather to report their success.  Some one has been watching too many bootleg Coppola movies.

The Hanoi night scene.

We rested a bit and decided to try our luck out on the street again.  We needed food and then it was time for mom’s massage.  While mom was having her massage, dad and I wondered the night street markets, constantly looking over our shoulders for young Fredo. 

We swung by and got mom after her massage.  She couldn’t stop raving about it.  It was the best massage she had ever had.  I asked her if she got a Happy Ending.  She said, “Well, I feel happy.  Is that what you mean?”  Yeah, mom, that’s what I mean.

Potentially sleeping with the fishesly yours,

The Negotiator

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