It’s damp and rainy outside, Kevin and Andreas are watching Game of Thrones on my laptop while I write in my journal. We’ve moved hotels now after we broke the bed on our first night in Ha Giang. I’m wearing ripped gray boxers that I refuse to throw away.
A lot of time has been spent in Bong Cafe and Hostel, we’re amazed to find that there is a hostel in this Northern city of Ha Giang. Last night we had the family dinner there, dining on the floor with fellow travelers and hostel staff. Pretty decent, but we can make better spring rolls ourselves. Our teacher taught us well back in Sa Pa.
There’s an American guy here volunteering at the hostel. Another Ivy League wanderer, finding purpose in his post-Cornell world. He’s heading back to the United States in a couple weeks. He tells us of this local place where we can drink beer with the Vietnamese. Why not?
The boys head down there with the American, while I get some welding done to my luggage rack. It’s looking a little lopsided these days. I drive around in circles a bit until I find the place. It’s tucked away in some alley. I knew it had to be the place based on the load of motorbikes parked out front and the BIA HA NOI signs. I squeeze my bike in the crowded parking lot and head in.
There’s no doors or windows, it’s one of these kind of open concrete areas–a roof to drink under. I see the boys sitting at one of many low plastic tables in cheap plastic chairs, drinking with about 8 Vietnamese men. “Hey!!” everyone says, and in short order I have a full mug of beer infront of me. There’s plates of strange food on the table, surrounded by beers.
At breakneck pace, we’re all yelling “Một, hai, ba, vô!”. For the unitiated, that’s “1, 2, 3, cheers!” In Vietnamese. You just yell it really loud, clink, and then drink. Sometimes you have to drain the whole glass when you do it. This was one of these times. This carried on for a while. I ate the strange food, which turned out to be buffalo, and then later on pig stomach. I’ll stick with the buffalo.
The crew returns to the hotel at some point. We drank for free after the Vietnamese refused to take our money–the people up North are really nice. David and I are watching television while George is dozing off in the corner. It’s probably 01.30, we’re all kind of insomniacs. Suddenly he rises from the bed, stumbling like a zombie towards the bathroom. He seems to decide that he’s gone far enough, and just starts pissing all over the floor.
“What the fuck!”
“Stop!!”
“You’re pissing on the floor!”
“Ahhh!!!”
It all falls on deaf ears as he empties his bladder on the white tile floor. We start yelling at him to clean it up, but he doesn’t want to co-operate. He lays in his bed and lights up a cigarette–the ultimate fuck you. David gets pissed off and tries to pull him out of bed, but he gets smacked in the balls in the ensuing struggle.
“Oh now you’re asking for it!” he yells, and then pick up the mattress and flips it over with him still laying on it. George goes rolling off the bed, knocking over a bunch of shit. He begrudgingly cleans up his urine in a stupor, and then collapses in bed.
Can’t take us anywhere.
