Kon Tum, Kon Tum, Vietnam
Sunday, May 13, 2012
From Dalat most of the people go to Nha Thrang. More Sea,More Sun. Psyched up by the couple of days in the highlands, I decided to try an alternative way. Kon Tum. Supposed to be a small town with lot of traditional villages around. Needed fresh air and contact with people. The way to this city is actually a 12 hours ride on a windy road. 4:30 am woke up. Wished a good sleep and a safe trip to the girl I'm sharing the room with (she was way less talkative at this point than while she was sleeping, never heard someone talking so much in the sleep!). 5 am, I was in the lobby. The guy was definitely pissed off, preparing the breakfast for me wasn't his best value for the morning. Bus. I seat. They moved me to another seat. After 5 minutes, again to another seat. This time I refused and made it clear that I was not going to be the flipper ball of the game. A 12 hours psychological fight started between me, my neighbor,and the driver help. Obviously the two of them were making fun of me, fair enough
. But after 8 hours of pushing to have some space, when the driver helper basically decided to lean on my head, I decided for counterattack. You touch my head? (the most sacred part of body in SEA). Well then I'm gonna put my feet (the most filthy part of the body) right on your back. The reaction was triggered. As soon as he asked me to move my feet I started to ask him why? in English, French, Farsi and Italian. The question was polite but the tone was clearly stressing the fact that he could not understand what I was saying. I made my point, it is easy to find fellows to pressure someone just cause he/she doesn't speak your language, but you have to consider that don't speaking doesn't mean don't understanding. For the rest of the trip I had my space and the two were quite silent.
Kon Tum was actually just in the middle of a flat land. The villages around were basically reached by motorbike and according to the guide were a mixture of traditional and more modern houses. On top of that the price for a guide was quite high. I didn't feel like betraying the memories of the trek with Bien and Mr Boun, so by noon I was on the next bus. I had anyhow the time for a really tasty goat-based dinner served in a hot pot in a restaurant where I was the only extremely welcomed guest. and a long walk in the city. Many, many, many churches (not even one pagoda?!). Empty streets, with the few motorbike not exceeding the 30 km/hour (but still using the horn just like crazy). Lot of smiling people that helped me to recover my relation with Vietnamese people after the fight of the day before (I was starting to think that the Vietnamese might have not recovered from the war issues!). Surprisingly even without mountains around on the background I had images of Rovereto. Am I a bit homesick?
