I wonder how many peppers Imelda puts in her Pho...

An early start to the day again, more disheartening however was the thought of the long public bus ride ahead. Another front row seat guaranteed me maximum exposure to the horn noise. Given this is my 7th bus ride in about as many days, I am tired of my iPod & magazines - trying to pass the time of the bus has become painful - not even the scorned women music videos can capture my attention.

On this ride I developed a new pastime; watching the adventures of Imelda. Imelda (I gave her the name) was a 50 y.o.+ female, dressed in a beige leisure suit with an immaculate hairstyle. It is clear she comes from some sort of money (well more than the people I have seen recently). Imelda has an assigned seat at the back of the bus but for some reason refuses to sit there. She keeps coming forward and hijacking the front seat across from mine. The Cambodian crew have given up trying to get Imelda to sit in her own seat. Instead one crew member is sitting in her seat and one is sitting with her. Now Imelda believes that she should have her own seat - this is evident by the fact that she tries to stretch out in the seat, despite the crew member's presence. Because of the age of the young male crew member and social rules, he won't say anything to her...she just continues to recline with her feet in his face. Every now and then she barks orders at people or yells while pointing out the window, I of course have no actual idea what she is saying, but I narrated for her (in my head and sometimes to Christopher)...she is not kind women. It sounds silly but I was bizarrely entertained ...it was like a bad soap opera being performed just for me.

I became so preoccupied with the antics of Imelda that I forgot where I was going...Vietnam. Crossing into this new country I had feeling of déjà vu...China...very similar... I couldn't quite figure it out at first...then it hit me...communism. Subtle communisms, just a little splash of red here, a dash of military police there - a reminder that freedom can be revoked at any time.

Despite exhaustion and searing heat, Christopher and I braved the street to find another of the 1000 Places to See; the Ben Thanh Market. Finding the market was not difficult; working up the nerve to step into another chaotic harassing market place was however. Deciding that facing the crowds would be better after lunch we popped into a local establishment for the Vietnamese national dish of Pho.

Pho is a bowl of broth served over rice noodles with usually some sort of meat in it. You as the diner add in your own garnishes to season it. Here is a little tip for any future Pho diners - those little peppers go ALONG way. The longer they sit in there...the more the fester creating a dish so toasty that it may just combust. (On a separate note, the restaurant we happened to select was President Pho, apparently Bill Clinton had the same idea we did and dashed in for a bowl as well. Hopefully he used those pepper judiciously)

Heartburn brewing from the spicy Pho, we bucked up and tackled the market. This was the first market on the trip where the vendors were physically pushy, grabbing at you demanding that you purchase their wares. Whoever says shopping isn't mentally and physically exhausting is crazy. After fighting our way through many aisles we found the jewel we were looking for...the coffee section.

There is some sort of Vietnamese specialty where they roast the beans in butter - it became our mission to try and find this delectable treat for the coffee connoisseurs we know back in Seattle! Before I go on you must understand that this is my 5th currency to try and master in less than 3 weeks. This will help explain why we had no idea how much we were spending. Our first clue came when were ushered into the inner sanctuary of the shop out of the chaotic crowds, given seats and fresh cups of iced coffee. We were waited on hand and foot while we made selections. All the members of the family came to meet us and I think a first born was up for grabs as well. Then came the bill (and an apparent explanation as to why were being treated like kings)...2.2 million dong!

We had to suspend any further market shopping that day, vendors would take one look at the giant bags of coffee we were lugging around and laugh - there was certainly no bartering going on. That's why I had to pay full price for antacids - I am NOT kidding, those little peppers are a powerful thing...

(the photo at the top is one that I took on the Vietnam/Cambodia border. Electing not to snack on tarantulas or use the squat toilets, I decided to use this bus break as chance to try and take a few photos of some water buffalos that were grazing a few kilometers back. I hopped onto a guy’s moto and pointed in the direction that I wished to go...convincing him to stop in the middle of nowhere proved to be a little trickier. The buffalos seemed to be as interested in me as I was in them...so much so that my driver became very nervous and forced me back on to the moto and took off in a panic...)

Kam ung!