We’re Moving! The Blog That Is.

We're moving!

We’ve been blogging on wordpress.com for over four years!  We started when we left to produce our first film, and while it’s been a great time, we have decided to move our blog over to our own website – www.eidolonfilms.com/blog.  Nothing else is changing – we are still going to continue posting about documentary production, travel, creativity, art and everything in between.

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Sa Pa: Rice Paddies & Happy Water

Misty rice paddies

It was eight weeks into our trip and we’d seen rice paddies up and down mainland Indochina. Rice paddies in flat squares and those that climbed up mountains. Paddies with little budding plants and those full to the brim.  But it’s fair to say we hadn’t really seen rice paddies until we visited misty Sa Pa, a Northern Vietnamese town near the border of China.  These are like lush carpeted steps leading to another world, the vast expanse of which is only revealed in the fleeting moments when the mist lifts.

A view of the Sapa valley

The town and surrounding countryside of Sa Pa is populated by ethnic minorities, including the Black Hmong and Red Dzao, who have capitalized on the tide of tourists descending on Sa Pa every year.  Unlike the more aggressive tactics of their Vietnamese urban counterparts, these sellers of trinkets and handicrafts (all of whom are women), will silently follow you all day with the hope that at the end of your day’s trek, you’ll purchase a woven bag or whistle.  You cannot fault them for wanting to add to their meager farming income. And while tourism has profoundly impacted the way of life for these people, it’s also evident that it has elevated their standard of living.  The women who led us on our two day trek through the valley say the most beneficial change has been that they have noa been able to send their children to school.

Two children play in the hills of Sapa

Perhaps one wouldn’t think of rice farmers as elegant, but I cannot think of any better word to describe the women of Sa Pa.  For miles they will walk through the valley dressed from head to toe in beautiful embroidered clothes and silver jewelery, delicately balancing on the edge of each terraced paddy without muddying themselves.  They are hard workers but they speak little of their pains.  And despite not having much, they are incredibly generous and hospitable. By the end of the trip, my arm was laced with woven bracelets gifted to me by the women while my pockets where rimmed with little animals created from hand-folded reeds they’d made along the way. They invited us to their homes, where we were served delicious local food and got tipsy on rice wine, or “happy water” as they called it.  My heart was brimming with the realization of the human capacity to be kind and connect with one another despite great differences.  Below are more photos of our lovely trekking guides and the stunning other-worldly place they call home.

Our lovely trekking guides

The mother of one of our guides, a Red Dzao

"Happy water" flowed freely at our homestay

Weaving hemp thread

Black Hmong mill about the town of Sapa

Sunlight breaking through the clouds in Sapa

Crossing a rickety bridge

The terraces are works of art

Life in Hanoi

As tourists we’re drawn to the historical sites, museums, and natural wonders; all the places the guidebooks say we should go. But my favorite moments while traveling are those in which I witness the everyday played out in new and interesting ways.  We arrived early in Hanoi off a night train, so we spent time wandering the city and soon found ourselves at Hoan Kiem lake where hundreds if not thousands of Vietnamese were exercising.  Actions such as rubbing the belly or poking fingers in the ears derive from traditions of Chinese medicine, which many Vietnamese practice.

Lining up for some morning exercise

After 8 weeks of travel, we were a bit fatigued by historical sites and museums so we spent our time in Hanoi instead wandering, eating, drinking 25 cent beers and doing lots and lots of shopping.  Enjoy the photos below:

Street corner breakfast in Hanoi

Typical Hanoi traffic

Amazing what you can carry on a scooter

Pour me another please

Bia Hoi - $.25 beers!

Shade from the morning sun

Old friends

Temple of Literature: okay, so we did fit in one site!

Floating Mountains: Halong Bay & Bai Tu Long Bay, Vietnam

Early morning rain on Halong Bay

The creative director of the move Avatar must have been inspired by Halong Bay in Vietnam as there are few other places in the world where mountains appear to float weightlessly. While the imaginary planet in Avatar has mountains that suspend mid-air, Halong Bay’s mountains soak in pools of blue. Sunsets soften the edges of the sharp cliffs, color the sky and offer reflections that make sky and sea indistinguishable.

Sunset on Halong Bay

It’s no wonder the bay is one of Vietnam’s most visited attractions, with hordes of “junks” that float its waters on packaged cruises. We tend to loathe organized tours and try with all our might to travel independently, but there are some places that cannot be seen without a guide. Halong Bay is one of them. So when we searched for a tour operator, we looked for one that cruises away from the frequently touristed areas with only a small group while treading carefully on the environment and local community. Ethnic Travel fit the bill, and one of the highlights was that its boat cruises both Halong Bay and the less touristed Bai Tu Long Bay.

One of the many limestone cliffs of Halong Bay

Sunset swim in Halong Bay

It was a beautiful, albeit hot, day sailing Halong Bay. After feasting on a meal of spring rolls, breaded tofu, grilled squid and sauteed shrimp, we relaxed on the deck of the boat and took in the scenery. In the late afternoon, we visited a “floating village, a town built entirely on a string of floating decks. There’s even a floating school! Later, we took a swim in water but the dim light of the evening did not hide the trash that would float by in clumps. It quickly shook me out of the daze that Halong had seduced me into and thrust me into the realization that Vietnam like much of Asia seeks money and advancement at a cost. Despite being a UNESCO world heritage site, I was hard pressed to see what the title has done to help protect the Bay from the impact of tourism.

A floating village in Halong Bay

Our transportation in the floating village

It rained hard that night and into the early morning. At 5am, Ben woke up, looked out the window and rushed out with his camera. The rain was falling in patches that were hit by the rising sun in such a way that it looked like it was raining gold. After so many lost sunsets and mornings when we overslept, Ben was giddy to have captured the perfect moment on film.

Sunrise on Halong Bay

We kayaked in the morning then sailed back to get on yet another minibus to go to Bai Tu Long Bay, just an hour away. Apparently the junks don’t sail fast enough to sail between the two bays.  But the bus ride was worth it; Nary a tourist at this bay’s port and few boats in the bay itself save a lone fisherman or two.  Though the rocks don’t have the scale of Halong Bay, Bai Tu Long Bay has the advantage of its serenity.  Long placid waterways flanked by jagged black rock sprinkled with greenery set a much different stage.   We spent the evening on Quan Lan Island at a “homestay”, which was really more like a non air conditioned basic B&B with hosts that barely spoke to us.  After a restless hot night, we got some pho and headed out on some rented bikes for a tour of the little island and a dip at the beach.  It was raining by the time we returned to the boat but the mist atop the water made our sail to shore even more beautiful.

Lone fisherman on Bai Tu Long Bay

The cliffs of Bai Tu Long Bay

Misty morning on Bai Tu Long Bay

Quan Lan island

Lenou’s Library

While in Laos, we spent an afternoon with Lenou Sypasurt, a young man with an extraordinary vision for his country: to increase literacy among children.  With money he saved from working as a dishwasher in Australia, he rented a small house near Luang Prabang and converted it into a library and classroom.  Above is a short pro bono video we produced about Lenou, his library and the kids who visit it to help raise money and attract volunteers.  Enjoy, and visit his site if you’d like to help out!

Merchants & Emperors: Traveling in time in Hoi An & Hue

Hue's Citadel

The shopkeepers and emperors of old Vietnam had it made. A pharmaceutical salesman resided in a intricately carved wooden storefront with a lush atrium and lacquered inlay furniture while his emperor had an entire landscape of temples built for his final resting place, with room to spare for his wives. Such elegant use of space is on display in both Hoi An and Hue, two stops along our journey from South to North Vietnam.

Wooden chairs at a Chinese assembly hall

Exquisite courtyard of a merchant's house in Hoi An

Hoi An is so quaint and so fittingly “Asian”, it feels like a manufactured version of itself for the benefit of tourists.  But I was perfectly happy to live in the illusion of lit paper lanterns, swept streets, and excellent restaurants.  Days are spent eating, shopping and strolling through old merchant houses and Chinese assembly halls that make you feel so elegant you must dress the part.  So we visited one of the many tailor shops that have made Hoi An famous for the trade and Ben ordered two shirts and a pair of pants custom tailored to the tune of $50.

Diners enjoy a riverside meal of Cao Lau in Hoi An

Chinese lantern in one of Hoi An's many assembly halls

Vietnamese flags hang from most shops in Hoi An

Perhaps one of the highlights of Vietnam is that its skinny width and long coastline means you are never far from a great beach. Just north of the Hoi An town center is An Bang beach, a poorly advertised getaway of white sands and pristine blue waters that was nearly empty when we stopped for a lunch of grilled squid and Larue beers. It was the perfect respite from the heat, which was nearly unbearable in mid-day.  We were sad to leave Hoi An, and in retrospect, would have gladly spent another day, but we had a tight schedule to meet. Our next stop was Hue.

An Bang beach outside of Hoi An

Hue, which lies smack dab in the center of Vietnam is just as known for its ill-fated location during the Vietnam War as it is for its imperial tombs which dot the outskirts of the city. We chose to see the latter and spent one day on a motorbike getting lost between them.  As usual, the motorbike ride was as interesting as the stops, as it granted us lovely views of the Perfume River and surrounding mountains.

Hue imperial tomb

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Dunes & Fish Sauce in Mui Ne

Cows on the Beach

Craving some more beach time, we headed to Mui Ne, a small beach town along the coast of Vietnam. It appealed to us more than the more popular beach town of Nha Trang for its sand dunes and fishing village along with its quiet beaches.  We spent our first afternoon lazing by the beach watching the kite surfers who travel from all over the world to catch winds that build to 20 knots.  An evening dip in the hotel pool up on the hill above the ocean was the perfect closer.

Cows in the way

Stunning dunes of Mui Ne

At breakfast, we met a US Vietnam war veteran who we joined for a motorbike ride around the area. He’d been to Mui Ne before and still remembered enough of his State Department taught Vietnamese to order the right amount of condensed milk in our iced coffees.  Off the coast, we visited beautiful white sand dunes flanked by natural spring fed lakes then closed the day with the red sand dunes closer to the ocean.

Vietnam or the Sahara?

The next day we awoke early to meet the fishermen bringing in their catch, which in Mui Ne is mostly small sardines that are steamed, dried in the sun and fermented in vats for fish sauce. I’ll let the photos below tell the story.

Waiting for dad

Colorful Boats

Pulling boats in to shore

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Cities in contrast: Phnom Penh & Saigon

Family on a motorbike

I’m quite behind on travel blog posts, but I’ve committed to catching up and so though I’m writing in Washington, DC, on the blog I’m still traveling between Cambodia and Vietnam’s largest cities: Phnom Penh and Saigon.

I first fell in love with Phnom Penh after a chance encounter with the crispiest tastiest grilled squid on earth during a bus stop between Siem Reap and Kep. Upon returning to Phnom Penh, we visited the central market again for the heavenly dish, served with cold cucumbers, herbs and a dash of homemade chili sauce.  This was a no frills spot; just a small roadside stand with food served on melamine dishes.  Yet the taste and the service was five star.  It’s a microcosm of Phnom Penh, a shabby city upon first glimpse yet one oozing with character. Despite being Cambodia’s capitol city, Phnom Penh’s demographic is decidedly rural in nature, in large part because of Pol Pot’s reign of terror over the wealthy and educated classes.  So scenes of life in rural Cambodia are often played out in city streets: people commuting by bicycle, carrying livestock, and selling fruit from bamboo baskets. PP feels more like a small town than a capitol city and in some ways, it seems as if time stands still.  One night we ventured to the local mall, where the top floor contained a roller rink packed with Khmer teens doing tricks and drinking soda pop from glass bottles.  It was as if we were transported back to 1950s America, when life seemed so simple and wholesome.

The Royal Palace of Phnom Penh

Monks flood the streets of Phnom Penh

The Russian Market in Phnom Penh

Man sharpening knives at the Russian Market

One of many street side barbershops

Despite its renewed character, Phnom Penh is still deeply haunted by the days of Khmer Rouge, when an estimated 2 million people were brutally killed.  We visited Tuol Sleng (S21), a former high-school turned prison and place of torture for the Khmer Rouge.  After the regime fell in 1979, 14 bodies were found.  Photographs of the bodies as they were left are hung on the walls of the cell in which they were found along with the bed and shackles to which they were chained.  The stark images are a sobering reminder of the capacity for human beings to be unapologetically inhuman.

S 21 cell block

Portraits of prisoners at S 21

S 21 cell

We continued our journey to Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, still regularly called Saigon today.  It never ceases to amaze me how different a place can be just a few miles across a land border.  A bustling sprawling behemoth of a city, Saigon is everything that Phnom Penh isn’t; It’s a city on a race for advancement.  Streets are nearly impassible due to waves of motorbikes speeding in every direction and construction is everpresent. But the most significant difference were the people, who on the outset were much more cold and aloof than the Khmer, Lao and Thai.  We had only a day in Saigon and it wasn’t an especially memorable one thanks to buckets of rain and a few attempts by locals to rip us off.  But we kept up our hopes high for better days in Vietnam, and fortunately there were many. Stay tuned!

The chaotic traffic of Saigon

Pepper and Beach: Kampot to Kep

Palm trees and rice paddy, the quintessential Cambodian landscape

Little compares to Cambodian bus travel. It takes at least two hours longer to arrive at a destination than estimated. Nine times out of ten a tire blows out and needs to be replaced.  Rest stops are taken at illogical intervals, usually at the whim of the driver who will sit down for a three course hot meal as little as 10 kilometers away from the final destination. Passengers (er, Cambodian passengers) also get a whole lot of say for when the bus stops. One drunk man halted the bus at least five times to take a piss on the side of the road.  Yet the real clincher has to be the deafening tune of Cambodian karaoke DVDs played on repeat.  After a few 8 hour rides, I’d memorized several of the songs, all a variation on the same melodramatic plot-line of unrequited love.

Cambodian rice farmers

Yet the real highlight of bus travel in Cambodia is that it offers a fascinating glimpse of daily life. Westerners tend to live at the end of long driveways, behind fences, walls and in the privacy of homes.  Cambodians carryout their daily life out in the open, often alongside the curves of the country’s main thoroughfares. We see them caring for their children, tending their rice fields, showering, and gathering for a meal.

A view of Kampot province

Aside from the landscape — flat rice fields dotted with coconut and palm trees (opposed to the mostly hilly landscape of Thailand and Laos) — the most obvious scenic difference in Cambodia are the homes.  Few thatch roofed and bamboo houses here. Even the poorest villages are checkered with elegant yet simple Khmer wooden houses with striking carved wooden detail decorating their eaves.

Traditional Khmer house

We made our way to Kampot and Kep, two small towns within a short 30 minute ride from each-other. The former is known for its pepper plantations and friendly provincial town while the latter is known for its ocean views.  We spent a day in Kampot riding around its surrounds by motorbike past salt pans, Cham Muslim neighborhoods and rice fields, to caves with a fifth century Hindu temple.  Nearly every turn provided sightings of smiling locals waving and saying hello.  During a stop for a snack of spicy papaya salad with what we believed to be raw (eek) crab, we were even invited to join some locals for a celebratory birthday drink of homemade palm wine.

The path to the cave, mine free...

The old bridge in Kampot, with the Elephant Mountains in the distance

From Kep we took a choppy boat ride to the quiet Rabbit Island, a favorite of locals.  Two days by the water doing nothing but swimming, drinking coconut water and reading a good book did the trick to cure our travelers’ fatigue.  At night, once the generators died and the island turned pitch black, the ocean became phosphorescent.  Breaking waves looked like lines of stars and a sweep of the arm spawned a trail of diamonds.  Two of the adorable stray puppies that populated the island guarded the door of our simple thatch bungalow that night while another slept under our bed.

Sunset on Rabbit Island

Early morning on Rabbit Island

The beach puppies that stayed with us all night

Our ride back to the mainland

Enamored by Angkor Wat

Dramatic carvings and sky at Banteay Srei

I’ll still never forget the first time I saw the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, gazing at it while sandwiched between hundreds of strangers.  Chatters from the tourists were only amplified by the cavernous chapel, creating a wall of noise. “Silencio”, barked the guard, his pleas going unnoticed. So vast, so detailed and so impeccably to scale were Michelangelo’s paintings that they had an almost transcendent quality, capable of silencing the buzzing of tourists that Italian guards could not.  It’s been almost ten years since I visited the Sistine Chapel and few places have had a such a transfixing effect. That is until we visited Angkor Wat, a stunning 12th century temple complex in Cambodia.

Angkor Wat at sunset

Cows come out to graze after the tourists leave

I’d seen the temple complex in photos before — the imposing towers of Angkor and the smiling faces of the Bayon — but the sheer scale and ambition of the place was unknown to me until I visited.  We were among over one million tourists that visit per year, many of them coming in busloads from China and Japan.  Yet despite these crowds, it was still very possible to take in the temples and to feel at times that we had newly discovered them hidden in the jungle.  Some of it was due to visiting in low season, some due to timing the predictable schedule of the tour buses. But much of it was because of the seductive quality of the extensive bias reliefs that wrap Angkor Wat, the soothing smiles of the Bayon towers, the intricate carvings of Banteay Srei, the tree-laced ruins of Ta Phrom and the 9 square kilometer scale of the ancient city of Angkor Thom.

The smiling faces of the Bayon

A massive tree grows out of Ta Prohm

Roots digging their way into the stones at Ta Prohm

Banteay Srei is full of well preseved delicate carvings

While capable of quieting the crowds, the awe-inspiring temples did not shadow the immense poverty that circled them daily.  Beggars deformed and amputated by the Khmer Rouge and landmines from war reached out for coins while children in tattered clothes aggressively sold trinkets and postcards. “hello suh, one dolla, one dolla, you buy, you buy.”  When we asked why they were not in school or playing with their friends they became quiet and persisted in their sales pitch. Our guesthouse owner, Ponheary Ly, a CNN hero for her work with children in Cambodia has urged tourists not to buy from children as it offers incentive for them to drop out of school to continue selling. Hard as it was, our policy was to purchase only water from adults and to save our money to give to Ly’s foundation, which provides school supplies, bicycles and teacher salaries in order to keep Cambodian children in school.  We reasoned that the money would be best spent by a reliable foundation instead of by handouts, which can promote begging and end up in the hands of scammers.

Cambodian child sits at Angkor Wat

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