another early morning dive. sharon left for delat after an arguing session about animal rights. it's me, the swedes, ludo and my new diving instructor from slovenia, dimitar.
going over some of these drills for my license is absolutely terrifying at times. when in a drill, throwing my 2nd regulator from my mouth scares the crap out of me. i manage though, very well to be noted. another beautiful day for diving.
we see something resembling a lobster and dimitar screws with it until it glides away with an unforeseen grace. then, there's still the test. i'm nervous like i always am with tests. i crammed some the night before in between drinks. finally, i buck up and take it. the swedes passed w/ flying colors, so i should be fine. i think i missed 3 in total with one being wrongly graded in the manual. 9m in 60 seconds, fools. and i don't find it necessary to know what magnification you see things underwater. 88%. a passing grade. ludo dubs me scuba steve. smiles all around and then it's back into town.
grabbing lunch with the swedes brought up an america they have strange perceptions about. despite being barely older than how long i've been playing guitar, they have interesting perceptions about the health care system and give me more insight into the swedish system. everyone seems to have different thoughts, but all concur change is needed. we break to the beach, where i go for a dip.
it's a whopping $1 for a beach chair the entire day and i take a stroll to the water. walking along nhatrang beach during the day, you'd never guess it wasn't california. hordes of ghosts are laying out, getting sunsoaked and befuddling natives who prize white skin. surprisingly, there are many topless girls, which is interesting because lonely planet warned about locals who snap shots of women getting out of the water in bikinis.
i am stopped in the water as i swim down the water and semi harassed by an old dutchman with eerie blue eyes. he bounces from subject to subject bobbing in the water with mucus dripping down his face. he pointedly tells me i'm attractive and wholesome, making sure to point out he isn't gay, ("not that there is anything wrong with that," right.) after briefly touching the subject of muslim, ( who he deems evil), i finally verbally disengage and swim back.
i stroll down the beach snapping shots of the sunset and something strikes me. a large family is sitting and playing music. one guitar, one harmonica, and a chorus of booze laden voices carry the godfather's theme song. i'm grinning from ear to ear and upon noting my interest, i'm invited to sit on a heineken box and passed a beer. 'yo! yo! yo!' we exclaim, bump a cheers and drink. apparently, the direct translation is now or go! then they pass the guitar to me. there are requests for clapton and the eagles. i oblige my acoustic rendition of 'hotel california' and then play some of my own music with the beach harmonica and drunken free styling choir work by the family. we raise new beers to the sound of yo! apparently then we are kicked off the beach by the police, still smiling all around as we embrace and take a couple photos. this is the experience i've been seeking in vietnam, to break free of my touristy inhibitions and simply hang out with the vietnamese.
back to ghost world, i head back to the sailing club. while paying for my bucket of rum and coke, i realize my debit card is gone. i'm positive it wasn't the beach family and i try to retrace my steps. it may have been paying for something, but i can't recall. i contact verity and put the card on hold. it's all i can do, no use in spoiling a night in nha trang. back at the sailing club; i rendezvous with the swedes and do a bit of damage on the dance floor. there is another fight, one taken out of the club in a head lock and the other wiping blood from his nose; locals it seems. i fail to understand how this remains a common occurrence here, but they definitely have security in place for a reason.
as we close out the club of sails, the girls have befriended 2 new englishmen. we walk over to the aptly named why not? bar and the group persuades me to stay a little longer even though i am flying out the next morning at 6. i'm in the restroom when a fairly amiable looking gent asks where i'm
mr. dominic hall, i owe you a beer next time we meet. hall is from the uk and upon deciding i'm a cool cat, he imparts some wisdom on me. a friend of his had been robbed and the same trick had been attempted on st. hall himself, although he was too daft (endirekt). a woman approaches offering unsolicited acts, she distracts whilst a gang of women pull up on mopeds and grab you. it wasn't until they vanished rapidly that dom's friend realized he had parted with his possessions. i thank dom and tell him i will say goodbye on the way out.
back at the table of swedes and englishmen, i engage in another serious conversation with the knowing english. upon seeing the looks of severity on our faces, the swedes command me to change the topic. i take this as my exit music and bid them safe travels. i shake dom the great'si'm off.
well... off for a block before a woman grabs my arm. i keep saying no to the offers, but she won't have it. my hand is on my wallet and i hear the putter of mopeds, glancing over my shoulder to see 5 or 6 valkyriettes reinforcements hurdling down on me. thankfully, i know what to do. i tell the woman to shove her offers, physically remove her and extending my middle finger, dash away from the ominous scene. daft steve is too quick on his toes to get caught by hoes!
i walk with my head on high to the hotel, pack my things and fall asleep. it was an epic day.
tomorrow is hcmc in one day.
i stroll down the beach snapping shots of the sunset and something strikes me. a large family is sitting and playing music. one guitar, one harmonica, and a chorus of booze laden voices carry the godfather's theme song. i'm grinning from ear to ear and upon noting my interest, i'm invited to sit on a heineken box and passed a beer. 'yo! yo! yo!' we exclaim, bump a cheers and drink. apparently, the direct translation is now or go! then they pass the guitar to me. there are requests for clapton and the eagles. i oblige my acoustic rendition of 'hotel california' and then play some of my own music with the beach harmonica and drunken free styling choir work by the family. we raise new beers to the sound of yo! apparently then we are kicked off the beach by the police, still smiling all around as we embrace and take a couple photos. this is the experience i've been seeking in vietnam, to break free of my touristy inhibitions and simply hang out with the vietnamese.
back to ghost world, i head back to the sailing club. while paying for my bucket of rum and coke, i realize my debit card is gone. i'm positive it wasn't the beach family and i try to retrace my steps. it may have been paying for something, but i can't recall. i contact verity and put the card on hold. it's all i can do, no use in spoiling a night in nha trang. back at the sailing club; i rendezvous with the swedes and do a bit of damage on the dance floor. there is another fight, one taken out of the club in a head lock and the other wiping blood from his nose; locals it seems. i fail to understand how this remains a common occurrence here, but they definitely have security in place for a reason.
as we close out the club of sails, the girls have befriended 2 new englishmen. we walk over to the aptly named why not? bar and the group persuades me to stay a little longer even though i am flying out the next morning at 6. i'm in the restroom when a fairly amiable looking gent asks where i'm
mr. dominic hall, i owe you a beer next time we meet. hall is from the uk and upon deciding i'm a cool cat, he imparts some wisdom on me. a friend of his had been robbed and the same trick had been attempted on st. hall himself, although he was too daft (endirekt). a woman approaches offering unsolicited acts, she distracts whilst a gang of women pull up on mopeds and grab you. it wasn't until they vanished rapidly that dom's friend realized he had parted with his possessions. i thank dom and tell him i will say goodbye on the way out.
back at the table of swedes and englishmen, i engage in another serious conversation with the knowing english. upon seeing the looks of severity on our faces, the swedes command me to change the topic. i take this as my exit music and bid them safe travels. i shake dom the great'si'm off.
well... off for a block before a woman grabs my arm. i keep saying no to the offers, but she won't have it. my hand is on my wallet and i hear the putter of mopeds, glancing over my shoulder to see 5 or 6 valkyriettes reinforcements hurdling down on me. thankfully, i know what to do. i tell the woman to shove her offers, physically remove her and extending my middle finger, dash away from the ominous scene. daft steve is too quick on his toes to get caught by hoes!
i walk with my head on high to the hotel, pack my things and fall asleep. it was an epic day.
tomorrow is hcmc in one day.
