Ha Noi Traffic

But how do you cross the street?

On my first sight of the Ha Noi traffic, I recalled the hypnotizing display greeting visitors to the Monterrey Aquarium. A large school of sardines swims in unison in a continuous stream of silver. In Ha Noi, thousands of small motorbikes flow through the boulevard without any interruption or gaps. Spacing between bikes is so tight that some riders carry on a conversation while in motion. However, unlike the aquarium, this scene is not quiet. A prudent Vietnamese driver will produce a series of shrill honks aimed at any potential impediment. The combined sight and sound is mind numbing.

Traffic lights in Ha Noi are rare, so eventually you will face the need to cross the motorized river. Suddenly, the Sardines turn into Barracuda and you stand on the edge of the curb, frozen with fear. You watch the locals gracefully glide across. It's time to act.

Slow your breathing. Look for the slightest gap in traffic, and take the first step. Open your eyes. You are in the water, Barracuda swooshing within inches of your face, and you are still alive. On your second step, the motorbike that was going to run you over accelerates and swerves to the left. The next rider, slows a fraction, and swerves to the right. A protective bubble forms around you as you steadily move deeper. The bubble is also impervious to noise. Engine and horn sounds diminish, and disappear. You are in a meditative state. The traffic miraculously clears in front of you and resumes in your wake. That's how Moses must have felt.

Many Westerners never overcome their fear. They stand on the curb waiting for someone to go, and then join the journey on your lee side. The brave, with practice, improve their skills, but the act never becomes routine. Each time you climb unto the opposite curb, you feel that Adrenalin High.

So how do you cross a Ha Noi street? Very, very, slowly.

Rafting the Li

Yangshuo is the place to be amazed at beautiful limestone hills sprouting upward from flat green valleys. It is a view seen on many traditional Chinese paintings. Nowhere are these peaks more marvelous than along the Li River. Many visitors come to Yangshuo in large tour boats that navigate the Li. It's probably a pleasant voyage. However, I have become allergic to cruise boats and megaphones. Besides, it costs more than seventy bucks. I came by bus.

For several days in Yangshuo I hiked, I biked, and saw many beautiful peaks, but the Li river views kept calling me. One segment of the river was supposedly the best. It has interesting peaks and one of its views is even immortalized on the back of the 20 Yuan note. A bus could take me to Yangdi, the beginning of that section, I could then float down river, and take a bus back from Xingping. There was one hitch. No one in Yangshuo knew if this trip can be done. The twenty-passenger "Farmer boats" which ply the river between villages, were deemed by the authorities to be too dangerous , and are barred from carrying passengers. Maybe, if it's early in the morning, before the police arrive on the river... Early the next morning I boarded the bus.

The bus terminal in the sleepy village of Yangdi is right on the river front. There were few tourists and only one "Farmer boat". It was there to take hikers to the other side of the river where they begin the five hour hike to Xingping (I am not stupid. That was plan B). My dilemma didn't last long. Anywhere in China, it takes less than 5 seconds for a stationary tourist to be approached by a woman selling some tourist attraction. In this case a bamboo raft. These rafts are composed of about 10 bamboo stalks hitched together, a small engine mounted at one end, and a couple of easy chairs nailed to the center. They are used by locals for fishing, transportation, and taking tourists on short rides. The woman was not surprised at my request. Brief negotiation reduced the (low) price, and a lengthy mobile phone conversation eventually produced her husband on a raft. I figured that if we get arrested by the police boat which I saw just minutes ago, it's his problem.

We pushed off and entered the current. Within minutes, a similar raft, floating ahead, must have made some error. It overturned and dumped it's occupants, a family of three, and a big camera bag, into the river. Now I noticed that there are no life jackets on board. I have overturned more than one canoe in my time, so I watched carefully as the "Captain" maneuvered the raft. Just than, the motor died. The captain was frantically pulling the start cord. I grabbed the one oar and tried to align the raft. Thankfully, the tension did not last long. We made it. The overturned passengers also climbed ashore wet but safe. Soon, the motor started, only to stop again on several occasions later. Otherwise, the trip continued calmly. Cruise boats passed by. I could hear the megaphones blaring while their wake washed over my Teva sandals. Suddenly I heard the Captain shouting over the din of the motor. I turned. He emphatically insisted that I take his cigarette pack. OK? After some further gesturing I understood. The view ahead was the same as the one on the cigarette label. Later came the 20 Yuan view, and Xingping.

By the way, did I mention that the river was, at most, a hundred meters wide, the tallest white water was about 10 centimeters, and the overturned passengers made it back by wading in water up to their waist? Why ruin a good story?

For more Yangshuo pictures go to

http://picasaweb.google.com/isaac.ohel/AdriftInAsia/photo#5118522271372681298