Shocking

After many polite requests, and then some rather impolite ones, I have decided once more to put pen to paper, as it were, and clue you in on the happenings of my life here on the far side of the world. I have been meaning to write more, but honestly, I get some pretty fantastic TV channels here and I usually get sucked into such winners as "Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?", "I'm a Celebrity. Get Me Out of Here!", and of course a past favorite, "Seventh Heaven". The ups and downs of the Camden clan never cease to keep me on the edge of my seat, and more importantly, up to date on theology. So if you were wondering why I wasn't writing more, it's because I was watching television. At the moment there's not much on so I'm taking advantage of the lull. Hope you enjoy.

Today, I pimped my ride. Not my motorbike. That's already pimp as is. I'm talking about my bicycle. I have a true bicyle now, and today I pimped it. Said bicycle was acquired as a result of a romantic gesture from the Welshman I've been dating for the past few months. You may be thinking, "What did said Welshman do in the first place that would cause him to need to make said romantic gesture? Did he lie? Cheat? Steal? Smuggle? Ignore? Run you over? Change the channel while Seventh Heaven was on? What?" Well, as far as I know, he did nothing wrong. He merely felt I deserved a romantic gesture. Also, my constant nagging to the tune of "Why are you not romantic?? Why do you never do anything nice for me?? Why do you never buy me presents?? Be more romantic!! I want a bicycle! Get me a bicycle!" may have had something to do with it. I suppose we'll never know. Whatever the cause, the effect is that I have a gorgeous bike. The bike needed some work though, thus the pimping. The bike is black and gray with a, let's say, more comfortable than uncomfortable seat, a nice bell, and a rack on the back that I thought would be ideal for transporting produce, lumber, or a second person. However, as I found out today, the rack on the back is possibly one of the most painful things to sit on, save for razorblades. As the Welshman cleverly put it, "I am now sitting on a cheese grater." Something had to be done. Me and the Whale...excuse me...The Whale and I booked it (and when I say "booked it" we actually went quite slow due to the fact that we had to constantly stop, switch places, pull our ass fat out of the grater, and continue on our way. What should have been a short 3 minute trip took about half an hour. Also, we stopped for lunch.) to the nearest bike pimping station. Once there, we alighted and a woman came out. We quickly put her to work. I says to her I says "Hey lady, Pimp my ride!" And you know what? She did. Pimping in Vietnam (at least when it comes to bikes) consists of putting a basket in front to hold all that produce and lumber, a cushion on the back to accomodate that second passenger, pegs on the back wheels, reflectors all over, tightening up the brakes, adding air to the tires, and finally WD40-ing the squeaky wheel...all for the price of roughly $10. Take that MTV. I am now proud and thrilled to ride around on my bike. I wish someone had taken a video of me driving off into the distance, waving as I go. Alas, my memory will have to suffice.

As it turns out, having a pedal bike in Vietnam is a whole different experience than having a motorbike here. This is for a few reasons.

1. You don't need to wear a helmet. This means EVERYONE can see my red hair and constantly scream out "HELLO! HELLO! HELLO!"

2. A bike is much slower than a motorbike. This means EVERYONE can see my red hair and constantly scream out "HELLO! HELLO! HELLO!" Also, people on motorbikes can slow down and ride next to you for as long as they like, pointing, laughing, going off in Vietnamese, and then just speed off once they've had their fill.

3. Since people notice that I am not Vietnamese when I am on a bike, the roads tend to be safer. People slow down, people pay attention, people let me have the right of way, people actually begin to obey the rules of the road (at least for the 10-30 seconds they are in my vicinity).

I quite like riding my bike around. My favorite time to ride it is from 11am-2pm. This is the time when the entire country of Vietnam (the ENTIRE country) stops what they are doing, lies down wherever they may be, and naps. It's fantastic because I am the only one on the road. As I ride I pass by taxi drivers dozed off in the front seat, cyclo drivers sleeping awkwardly on the seats of their bikes, shop keepers lying on pieces of cardboard in their shops' doorways, and then the random Viet man, woman, or child, peacefully slumbering in the shade of some tree or on some park bench. The city is still but for me and my trusty pimped out steed.

But then the city wakes up and all hell breaks loose.

I would write more but I believe I just heard the opening music for ANTM cycle 11. It's Tyra time. Be fierce bitches. I'm out.