Beer: A Review

And the road takes me full circle, and I've come back to the place from whence I departed here in Asia--Bangkok. And it's still raining, and I'm still inhaling the equivalent of seven pounds of exhaust with every step I take. Headed down south to Ko Lanta from here.... an island off the west coast. The beach is calling me.

After another day of travel yesterday, I made it to my guesthouse here and sat down for a meal and a beer. Beer. I like it. The way it tastes, the way it never looks at me strangely, the way it never judges me. I've tried quite a few different ones here in SE Asia... and here are my thoughts on their respective characters:

Tiger Beer -- A middle-of-the-road staple, average at best. More expensive than it should be. Seems warm, even when chilled. There are rumors that it is fortified with the tears of tigers, which are said to make you nimble and brave. Actually, there are no such rumors, but there should be. I am going to start a rumor about that.

Singha Beer -- Honorable but underachieving. Good, but not great. No special ingredients to make it more appealing. The beer-next-door; the one that everyone thinks is so nice but that still plays Dungeons and Dragons goes to Star Trek conventions. This beer is, sadly, a dork.

Chang Beer -- Conniving. Very tasty, but causes vicious hangovers, even if you've only had a couple. Chang is the life-of-the-party beer, making everyone laugh, until you wake up the next morning and notice that your wallet is gone and you don't have any eyebrows.

Angkor Beer -- Unique, and a bit sweeter. Like its ancient namesake, it's pretty elaborate. Kind of cocky, too. Thinks it's pretty tough, doesn't it? Well, screw it.... I changed my mind. It's a bad beer. Not unique at all. I made that up.

Ha Noi Beer -- An underdog, the "Rudy" of SE Asian beers. Just a little fella. Can't find it too far from Hanoi, but it's strong and good and doesn't assume anything. It's just happy that you drink it, and is glad of the opportunity to provide you with refreshment. Good for you, Ha Noi Beer, Good for you. Proud of ya.

And, the daddy of 'em all, winning top honors:

Beerlao -- Tastes great, no hangovers, pure as a mountain stream. This beer's a bad ass. It could bench press Cincinnati...tie strings to tanks and use 'em as yo-yo's. It is People Magazine's Sexiest Beer Alive. This beer says no to Oprah. The one tragic, and ironic, truth? It is perhaps the only one worthy of drinking itself, but it can't drink itself.

International Languages

Laughter is the international language, so they say. But do you know what else is? Sneezing. I can be in a restaurant in the middle of Vietnam, but when I hear that hachoo from across the room, I know someone is expelling irritants or allergens from their breathing passages. I know-- because I've been there, man.

So, I catch their eye, and with exagerrated movements, I mouth the words: "Blllesssss Youuuuuu." Then, I nod to them with a peaceful smile.

Mute English is not an international language, so they look at me pretty strangely. But I think deep down, they know what I mean, and they appreciate my words.

The Parting of the Clouds

Man, what a rough night. I took a bus back to Lao Cai, and then another night train from there to Hanoi. I could barely sleep in the train. So, when I arrived in Hanoi at 5am, I was exhausted. Then there was another cabbie that I was sure ripped me off. Then I couldn't get the fan in my room to work. I went straight back to sleep with a frown on my face.

But then, I come to this spot, and check something I've been wanting to check since I got on the train. Steelers 34, Titans 7. Willie Parker unstoppable. Big Ben = Perfect Passer Rating. And the clouds part, and the gridiron angels sing a lilting, cherubic tune you can just barely hear, until it gets a little louder, and then a little louder........"here we go, Steelers, here we go! hear we GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO!!"

It's amazing the power 53 strangers in helmets have over my mood, lattitude and longitude notwithstanding.

That Monkey with the Shoulder Beanie

My experience with the people of the Black H'mong hill tribe in Northern Vietnam has been interesting. Our frames of reference aren't even the same shape, yet there is still a respect and healthy interaction between us.

Like the octogenarian woman, with one tooth for every decade, who came to my lunch table and tried to sell me a beanie by force. With every shake of my head, she became more determined. She put it on my head. I gave it back to her. She mumbled something, then put it on my shoulder, as if this change of tack would set off something in my mind -- "No, no... wait, actually, that looks pretty good. And I've been looking for a decorative shoulder beanie!".

Then, there are the children; the future of the Black H'mong people. I ran into a few elementary school girls, dressed in the traditional, lavishly embroidered blue dresses of H'mong women, sitting on a stoop outside of a local hotel here in Sapa. I smiled at them and walked past, and then....

"Hey! Monkey!"

I turned. "Did you just call me Monkey?"

"Yeah, you look like monkey. You need shave your face, monkey!" (I have quite a bit of facial hair these days)

I was baffled. "Well, that's not very ni--"

"Hey! HEY!!" said another girl, sitting right next to her on the stoop. "I live on the moon."

"Really?" I said, naturally intrigued.

"Yeah, yeah. I fly up there at night to live. Tonight," she continued, "I fly over your hotel and kill you."

Believe it or not, that was the second time in as many days that a woman of the H'mong tribe had indicated that she wanted to kill me. The one before had wanted to kill me for her soup, so she said. Of course, it's a joke... it's all a joke, see, they don't really want to kill me. Just their way of connecting, of interacting with me. It's interaction.

I'm leaving town tonight.