Fred & Hyon's
Netherlands Adventure
(Cont'd)
April 19, 2005
I knew Vietnam would be
interesting and beautiful, but I didn't expect to find it so
pleasant. Ho Chi Minh City has good food, wide tree-lined
streets, colorful shops, and, at our partner institution, HCMC
University of Technology, articulate and inquisitive students.
The city reminds me a lot of Seoul in the ‘70s or ‘80s, but warmer and
greener. (A Korean in my class, an older guy who runs a factory
in HCMC under contract to Nike, agrees.)
I took fewer photos than I might have, because I kept framing shots and
then
realizing, “I took that picture thirty years ago in Seoul (or
Taipei).” The job needs a younger photographer with a fresh
eye. If it wasn’t rude, I’d have liked to shoot the many people
sleeping in odd places (hammocks strung between the pumps at a gas
station) and improbable postures (draped over the seat and handlebars
of a motorcycle).
One thing pictures can’t convey is that Saigon smells good. Ignore the
occasional whiff of garbage or 2-stroke engine exhaust, and cinnamon,
fruit, meat on the grill, and flowering trees make up your olfactory
environment.
Actually, most of the garbage smell is just ripe durian fruit.
The locals love the fruit, but fresh durian smells like old
garbage. Do try dragon fruit, though - the fruit that looks like
it comes from another planet - just chop it in half and eat the innards
with a spoon, very tasty.
Ah, yes, the 2-stroke engines, which I will ban if I ever become king
of the world. Uncountable thousands of motorbikes. To survive the
smog and particulate exhaust, riders wear surgical masks and, for the
ladies, long opera gloves. No helmets. In Holland, we sometimes
see two kids and a Mom on one bicycle, one kid seat fore and one
aft. In HCMC a whole family of four on one small motorbike is not
at all uncommon.
Unlike Cairo, people here use their horns gently, and the traffic never
stops, except at the rare traffic light. There seems to be a very
low urban speed limit, and it is generally observed. The result
is a dynamic dance of bikes and cars. The bikes cluster when
making a move around a car, probably hoping for safety in
numbers. It makes me think of my late friend Bob Herman, who with
Gamow discovered the cosmic background radiation, missed getting the
Nobel Prize for it, and spent the rest of his life studying traffic
behavior. (I first met Bob when he and Ilya Prigogine were
consultants to the math department at General Motors Research
Laboratories, where I then worked; we were later colleagues at
University of Texas at Austin.) The Santa Fé Institute
folks should come to HCMC to observe the drivers swarming.
Well, you hear about shell shock and PTSD, but not so much about being
traumatized by a war one didn’t
fight in. Despite my high 1971 lottery number, I followed that
sucker blow by blow, pushing pins into a map on the wall of my student
apartment. During an episode of
China Beach, some 15 years after the war’s end, I had a good cry
and finally let the whole thing go. Still, it was eerie to land
at Tan San Nhut, especially right in the middle of the 30th Anniversary
of National Reunification. Oh, well, the only torture to be found
here now is the communist jazz band in the hotel bar.
The newspapers, on this 30th Anniversary, are recounting the War of
American Aggression and celebrating the Heroes of the Struggle Against
the Enemy, but I haven’t met anyone who’s taking it personally.
On the contrary, they’re starting to build incubators and tech parks
and asking my advice on these things. And a dozen really drunk
Vietnamese soldiers insisted on buying me lunch. Either a nice
gesture of hospitality, or they just got paid and the money was burning
a hole in their pocket.
You should see, incidentally, the Mekong River delta from the
air. An amazing network of bits of river plus canals, rice bogs,
forested thickets and whatnot. If the stories about John Kerry’s
boat command confused you, it will become clear why you were
confused. If that makes sense.
In marketing class tonight I shared my examples of poorly chosen
product names, like the “Cell Mate” cellular phone holder. But
when a city boasts establishments like the Dung Restaurant and the Phuc
Hotel, that’s like carrying coals to Newcastle.
A tip o’ the hat to two fellow travel diarists: My niece Lara is
spending a semester in the UK and has discovered intercity European
travel via the low-cost airlines. Our friend Susan Schaefer
documented her 55th birthday trip to London most amusingly.
However, Lara’s using email and Susan distributes a beautiful pdf made
with Apple’s iPages, so you can’t see either one unless you’re on their
lists.
And a free plug for Travelsmith clothing, which you can find on the
net. Jackets and pants with so many zippers and hidden pockets
that I can’t find things I hid myself; pickpockets don’t have a
prayer. The micro-weave sport jacket works for rough travel or
for business meetings, won’t wrinkle no matter how I abuse it, and is
machine-washable. Money well spent.
Malaysian Airlines offers a breakfast option called nasi lemak (bbq'd shrimp, rice,
peanuts, dried anchovies, and green beans), one of the best airline
meals I've ever had. In HCMC, try food from the south (HCMC),
from the center (Hue) and from the north (Hanoi), it's all good.
Altogether, Vietnam is a wonderful place to visit. And splendidly
cheap. As I was finishing my first Tiger at a roadside drinking
establishment, a waiter approached, unasked, with a second
bottle. No avoiding it, I was going to have to spend another
60¢ U.S. on a second beer, and the waiter was going to force
another plate of free peanuts on me. It's a tough life.
Our July trip to Cyprus may be even more interesting than
expected. The Turkish side just elected a reformer who is ready
to talk reunification with the Greek side.
April 14, 2005
Malta
is a truly different place, historically, linguistically, ethnically
and geographically. It’s the southernmost outpost of Europe,
farther south in latitude than much of North Africa. Three
idyllic, if crowded, Mediterranean islands. If you check the map,
you’ll see Malta is the choke-point for east-west shipping in the
Mediterranean. Thus its strategic importance through the ages and
its long, multi-cultural history.
I presided over an MBA commencement of the joint MsM-Malta Institute of
Management program, had alliance-reinforcing talks with MIM, and was
guest instructor at the Malta Aikido Federation.
After the cold April rain and near-gale force winds stopped, we enjoyed
a sunny but cool couple days of sightseeing. Highlights included
a 7,000 year old Neolithic temple, said to be the world’s oldest;
baroque churches |
 |
 |
galore and two cathedrals;
historic fortifications of
the Knights of St. John; and nice Mediterranean scenery. Blue skies,
blue water, limestone cliffs and caves, nearly all limestone block
buildings, you might say it was like Lake Travis only more so ;-)
A lot of Italian food (Malta is 80 km. from Sicily), plus Maltese
specialties of octopus and rabbit. Two towns named Rabat (on different
islands). Other places called Marsaxlokk, Birzebbuga, and Filfla
make you wonder whether this is where Superman’s little pal Mr.
Mxyzptlk
came from. Faces and family names show a mix of Arabic and
Italian. Social habits and vocal intonations reveal the 160-some
recent years of British occupation of the islands; all 400,000
inhabitants are bilingual.
So far as I could gather, the indigenes are descendants of Phoenician
colonists. (The Temple Culture disappeared without a trace.) The
islands were later re-colonized by Carthaginians from the African
mainland, who were themselves originally a Phoenician colony.
Later infusions due to invading Arabs, French, Spanish, English,… The
Maltese did turn back a Turkish invasion in the 16th century, and have
admirably commemorated the event by naming a local beer “1519.”
|
More than a bit of Oregon
here. Not only the InFocus truck on this street; there was a
Tektronix technical convention at the hotel next door to ours. (I
didn't see any familiar faces.) Malta has a monstrous deficit,
several uncompetitive industries, a recent couple hundred years of
isolation, and great pride of place combined with something of an
inferiority complex. Sounds a lot like Oregon? But Malta
will have to change, and fast, to comply with EU standards and compete
in the EU's markets. Hah, there's an idea: Oregon can join the EU!
Despite some crumbling infrastructure, Malta’s a comfortable place to
visit. The nation’s at 75% of mean EU per capita GNP, making it
eligible for EU funds to fix the crumbles, so there’s construction
everywhere. A giant hospital project got caught in the
transition, having to junk 1,000 new fire doors that aren’t quite the
right EU-standard size. I urged an entrepreneurial type at
MIM to turn them into coffee tables and sell them as mementoes of
Malta’s entry into the EU.
The Maltese are quite good at civilian conversion of military
assets. MIM itself is in a former American cold-war radio
listening post. Walled forts into restaurants, hotels and shopping
arcades. The colorful, funky city buses are converted military
trucks. As you see, we bought a Malta Transport refrigerator
magnet. (The only fridge magnets we brought to Holland from the
States were one with the kids’ university department URL, and the one
that says “Life’s too short not to live it as a Texan.”)
|
 |
| So the Maltese
language is essentially ancient Phoenician, an archaic
Arabic that is not comprehensible by speakers of modern Arabic.
Some
English- and Italian-derived words mixed in. Here, try to pronounce
this native command: TPEJJIPX means “Don’t smoke here.” Yes, they
write Maltese in Roman characters, adding a dotted g and
a cross-hatched h. |
 |
Another anomaly, it’s a heavily
Catholic country with a Semitic language. The death of the Pope
totally colored the commencement ceremony. It was still a happy
day for
the students, but the Education Minister who was to have keynoted went
to the Vatican instead. (Luckily, I take an “accordion speech” to
these occasions, squeezable to five minutes or expandable to a half
hour.) One of our good hosts at MIM remarked that the CNN
coverage of the Pope’s death made it sound like an event on another
planet; the local and Italian coverage treated it as a family affair, a
close loss.
Malta is like I imagine southern Italy to be, but with more orderly
queues and no language problem. Friendly and reasonably honest
people, a pleasure to visit. Their official info and more bus
photos at visitmalta.com
and maltatransport.com.
|
I note there's little of this blog's
usual rollicking humor in the above entry. That's partly because nothing funny happened to us in Malta (we
liked it anyway), and partly because of rushing to prep for the next
trip.
In fact, I'm writing this during a seven-hour layover in the Kuala
Lumpur airport, en route to Ho Chi Minh City. I was afraid I'd
spend the whole 7 without use of my computer, as I brilliantly packed
in a checked bag all my plug converters except the European one.
Lucky me, I found one with the Southeast Asian plug in a bookstore in
this supermodern airport for less than $2, but let that be a lesson to
me. And to you, if you're in the mood for one.
Phil Ochs said it: "Next stop is Vietnam." But first, more photos
from Malta:
BTW, if you republish any of these
photos, be sure to credit me as source and send me a lot of money.
March 19, 2005
I told you so.
When Carly first announced the HP-Compaq merger, a Portland TV station
insisted on sending a crew to interview me. My one-word
comment about the merger was, "Why?" I knew there was no way it
was going to create value. (I'm not a seer, just a thoughtful guy with
a good network.) Turns out the merger was a stalling action - no
CEO gets fired in the middle of a merger negotiation - and now the
inevitable has happened: Carly got a rich severance package, a lot of
other people are out of work, and HP's got a big problem.
The Dutch way
More peculiarities of this country:
- My doctor asked me to deliver my own biopsy specimen to the
hospital lab.
- Here, you pay for your own office birthday party (we five MsM'ers
who were born in March pooled funds for a coffee-and-vlaai
break). The upside is that women you hardly know, including
office staffers, kiss you three times on your birthday.
- Our walk from an Amsterdam department store to our lunch
destination took us through the city's famous red light district.
Some of it is interesting, some is raunchy, and some is downright
squalid. What surprised me were the families - Mom, Dad, kids -
walking and bicycling through the district like it was a normal part of
a family outing.
- Dutch grocery carts have swivels on all four wheels, greatly
reducing frustration at the kruidenierswinkel.
- Each Dutch home's mailbox has two Ja/Nee signs on it, for I
will/won't accept political ads and I will/won't accept commercial
ads. They work, too.
Ah, intercultural
communication.
Last night after aikido, the students and I repaired to the noisy Irish
pub around the corner. Somehow (it made sense at the time), the
occasion arose to tell the joke about the fellow with five
penises. One of the group said, "I don't get it... So he had five
Guinnesses, so what?"
Miscellaneous notes
The fourth Musketeer, D'Artagnan, died in Maastricht about 250 years
ago, during a French invasion of the city. He was on the invading
side, of course, but the Maastrichters raised a statue to him
anyway. I'll post a photo of it soon.
As a kid in Pennsylvania, I enjoyed the huge flocks of
blackbirds that covered the whole sky. Then we polluted too much,
decimating the flocks. Now, they've started to return, and
it's great to see enormous flights of 'em over Maastricht.
Travel recommendations
I've got a few minutes, and I know you're interested in travel,
so I'll write about some trips that predate Fred & Hyon's
Netherlands Adventure. There were several places it had long been
my ambition to see. I saw them, and they were all more than
worthwhile.
- The Tivoli Gardens in
Copenhagen (date of visit: 1984). Cafes, restaurants, theaters,
music, walking paths, lagoons, gardens, all in central
Copenhagen. No better place on Earth to spend a summer evening.
- Kyoto (1976). Zen
gardens, gilded temples, pre-war wooden dwellings, green hills. I
contemplated the raked rock garden at Ryoanji. During a sudden
April snow storm, I was staring at a cherry blossom when a monk walked
by and said in Japanese, "They're early this year." "Yes, early,"
was my brilliant reply.
- Rio de Janeiro (2000).
The emerald South Atlantic pounds the beaches of Ipanema and
Copacabana. Spectacles include Sugarloaf, Corcovado, and the world's
smallest bikinis.
- Santa Fe (1980 and many
times after). Getting Californicated now, but still magical.
We can't get enough of the scenery, art, and pottery. Memories of
early trips include chatting with Pat Morita while waiting in line at a
taco stand, and seeing Goldie Hawn walking down the Plaza holding
toddler Kate Hudson by the hand.
One other spot deserves mention, and I never knew of its existence
until recently. Iguaçu
Falls
(2000) are the second largest falls in the world. They're at the
point where Brazil, Argentina, and Paraguay come together.
Awesome. Unforgettable. See for yourself at
You need to see both the Brazil and Argentina sides of the falls, and
you make the crossing by taxi. When asked about unusual things
I've done, I say, "I took my family to Argentina by taxi." But
now you know the secret: It was a 20-mile trip.
My biggest remaining travel ambition is Barcelona. I'll get there this
September, and finally see the Rambla and the surrealist
cathedral. Anticipation has inspired me to low doggerel;
imagine it sung Desi Arnaz style in front of a mambo band.
Barcelona
Never go to bars alone in Barcelona;
take your cat along, the Catalans advise.
Down in Spain if you maintain that you don't own a
feline pet, at least not yet, you would be wise
to buy a calico or stripe
(Horn section shouts)
A tabby! ¿Sabe?
and never say a paella's over-ripe;
just feed it to the kitty, and enjoy...
Barcelona city!
(Refrain)
Barcelona! Barcelona!
Never go to bars alone in Barcelona!
Sorry about that; it's been a long week and it's left me goofy.
No more blog entries until we get back from Malta in mid-April.
That should be an interesting trip.
Around Maastricht and Aachen.
Middle left:
Rathaus at Aachen operates at many levels.
Middle Right: The fabulous fractal flowers of Flanders
(cauliflowers, that is).
Bottom Left:
Maastricht home built over the River Jeker, betwen a church and
a flour mill. Ducks swim underneath the bedroom. If you
peer in the
window, you can see a hand writing on a pad while its owner
presumably lies abed.
March 9, 2005
Last weekend's highlight was The European Fine Art Fair, Europe's largest, held
in the Maastricht Expo & Convention Center. The continent's
top dealers flew in on their private jets to have a shot at original
Picassos, Miros, impressionists (Hyon melts over Degas), moderns, Dutch
masters, and European and Asian antiques. All we had to do was
walk across the street to the MECC, on our private feet.
TEFAF was out of our league financially, but we did buy a few pieces
from a Maastricht artist, Peter Bertus, who is exhibiting at the
Management School. Sadly he does not have a web site.
Hyon's going to try to study under him, maybe we can get him to post
some samples to this blog.
Another reason to be proud of Maastricht: The Mayor's office polled all
the local institutions that are international in orientation, measured
how much foreign exchange they generated, and were impressed enough to
build a website
touting Maastricht as an international city and encouraging
interaction with and among these institutions. The site and the
international initiative were kicked off with a reception-dinner at
Château Neercanne. Official description, bilingual menu,
and photos
follow.
"When the military governor of
Maastricht, Daniel Wolff Baron von Dopff,
was looking for a country residence in 1698, he could have found no
more beautiful a place than in the valley of the Jeker. In
purchasing these gardens of delight just outside Maastricht, he also
assumed the manorial rights to Neercanne, an autonomous state with a
population of barely two hundred. The governor adorned his
country estate with a stately home and gardens which occupied a number
of terraces…. One of Von Dopff’s most important guests at his country
home was Czar
Peter the Great of Russia, who in 1717 was making his second tour of
Western Europe.... As part of the commemorations to celebrate the 300th
anniversary of the
founding of the country mansion in 1998, the gardens were restored to
their former glory."
Les vins
2003 Picpoul de Pinet
Cöteaux de Languedoc
2001 Château Maurel
Cabardès A. C. |
L'escriteau
Salade de scampi au carpaccio de coquilles Saint-Jacques
Salade met scampi en carpaccio van St. Jakobsschelpen
Cabillaud en robe de jambon de Ganda et vinaigrette de betteraves
Kabeljauw omwikkeld met Ganda ham en een vinaigrette van rapen
Contre-filet de bœuf au sauce coriandre
Contrefilet met een jus van koriander
Parfait glacé aux noisettes et sauce « Pedro Ximenez"
Parfait van hazelnoot met een saus van « Pedro Ximenez"
Moka et Château gâteau
Mokka met kasteelpatisserie |
Much to my surprise, the emcee shoved the microphone at me.
Thanks to what I've learned from many of you, I was able to serve up
some impromptu wisdom, to wit: The four steps to making a city
internationable (a made-up-on-the-spot neologism for "comfortable being
international and good at making foreign visitors/residents
comfortable") are:
- Measuring. Know
how many companies, agencies and
institutions you have with more than x% international activity.
Know how many visits and export bucks they generate.
- Networking. Have
them talk to each other and generate
synergies.
- Evangelizing.
Declare success when two random citizens,
newly introduced, turn out to be committed to internationalization
already, and try to convert each other.
- Cooperating in action.
Stop talking and start doing.
No, make that "start helping each other do."
I am glad to see that Austin's Technology Advisors' Group (TAG) is
having a similar event next month. Hey, let's network!
We visited Antwerp a couple of weeks ago so Hyon could go to an
art workshop. Toughest city in the world to drive in, would be my
guess. Construction and one-way streets make infinite loops, you
gotta duck down alleys and over sidewalks to make any progress.
Photos below.
I did drive in Amsterdam last week, in the snow, to show the city to
two 20-ish children of friends of Hyon's, who were passing
through. You friends who've looked after Anna and Gina while
we're in Europe now know that we're passing the good deed along!
Anyway, I drove, parked the car, found it again - it hadn't been broken
into even once - found our way out of the city, getting lost only
twice, and lived to tell the tale. I will never do it
again. If your kids come to Amsterdam, I'll gladly show them
around. By train.
|
|
|
|
|
Top left: Hyon has even more problems with tall people (space aliens?),
in Masmechelen, Belgium.
Top center: Gardens at Chateau
Neercanne, just outside Maastricht, as recently restored.
Top Right: Part of the Chateau
is built into the cliff. The limestone catacombs make a good wine
cellar.
This row left: The Mayor
("Burgemeester") of Maastricht, Gerd Leers, illuminates a plaque
installed in the catacombs to commemorate the "International City"
initiative. Graffitti date from the chateau's period of neglect.
This row middle: Cityscape with
Blondes, Antwerp.
|
|
|
|
In Antwerp...
Top left: Market square
merchants abut the cathedral unusually closely. Note "Gallerie
aan Petro Paul Rubens." Many Rubens works are on display in the
cathedral.
Top right: Antwerp is run down
it its appearance. Hard to tell from this pic that we're in the
21st century.
Left: You run into Americans
just everywhere.
|
February 12, 2005
The photos below are from Maastricht's pre-Lent Carnival, the locals'
favorite occasion for general craziness, and another excuse, as if one
were needed, to drink een pilsje. Well, many pilsjes, but who's
counting. It was harder to take pictures during the nighttime,
post-parade drunken revelry, but there was plenty of it, and anyway we
two old farts got tired, went home and to sleep well before the wee
hours.
In many ways, February Carnaval in the Netherlands (oompa music,
costumes made of long underwear) can't compare to Brazilian Carnaval in
Austin (samba music, costumes of little more than spray-on glitter),
but it's hard not to get caught up in the high spirits.
We also caught part of the Carnaval parade in Aachen. On the way
back from Germany, it occurred to me why highway driving in Europe is
so nervous-making: the range of speeds between the slowest and fastest
drivers is much wider here than in the U.S. If you are a
medium-speed driver on a 4-lane highway, you're constantly
changing lanes! No sooner do you move left to get around a
slowpoke than a hot dog has roared up from a mile behind to tailgate
you, and you're looking for a way to get to the right again.
Thus, more tiring than driving a U.S. Interstate. As the
statistician in me would say, it ain't the mean, it's the variance.
The last blog page was getting slow to load, due to all the photos, so
this is a new page. After you look at the photos below, you'll
see a link to take you to the final addition to the 'report3' page,
which is the story and pictures of our January trip to Tanzania.
Do take a look, what a fantastic trip that was.
|
|
We
prep
for Carnaval. I'm gonna be masked, so no point shaving,
right? Camera's in my left hand, arm-length shot.
|
Not a
single Indian on this ethnic-themed float. By local
standards, it's still p.c. to darken the skin with make-up when
role-playing. There's a beer cooler inside the hatch; many other
floats ARE just giant beer coolers, no matter what the outer decoration
looks like.
|
|
|
Parade
drummers have cup holders hooked to the drums, wouldn't want to march a
block without a cold one. Hyon likes the parade...
|
...
and especially the chance to tease me about this hippie bus, which
reminds
her of the one I had in Oregon...
|
|
|
...
and the fish costumes are cool too.
|
Lots
of general revelry outside the parade. The family above wants to
be
looked at, and is. Notice the beer. Below: That's not Gina,
but there's a resemblance.
|
|
|
Above: Note McDonalds'
special menu. During Carnaval, can't get out of there for less
than 5.50 euros, about $8.
Right: His costume is
made of plastic key chains, her of plastic whistles.
Below: Is the CIA
keeping tabs? Check the upper right of the photo.
|
|
|
|
Above Right: How did the Lady Longhorns get here?
Right: That's Hyon,
with a friend.
|
|
|
|
Here are links...
