"local da nang"

from ha noi we flew to da nang, where we spoiled ourselves with a few days at furama, a very nice resort on china beach. although i think it was among the first 5-star resorts built in viet nam and could probably stand a few updates here and there, i highly recommend it. aside from one day trip to hoi an to have a couple of suits made for knox, we spent most of our four days in the central region hanging out on the beach. and for good reason:

i've been to some fine beaches in my day - shoot, i spent the last four years in southern california - but i've never been this enchanted. this very spot, under this very sun, floating in this very water, next to this very guy...

...who was in heaven, by the way. he got one look at the ocean and was like: "what dengue fever?? can i have one of those great big blue cocktails with an umbrella and some pineapple?!" i should have known...

my only complaint is that it truly felt as though we'd left viet nam at furama, and after two months spent trying to immerse myself, it made me a little antsy to be so forcefully removed. the food was mostly western (and boring, sadly), there was no rice wine or bia hoi, no karaoke, no sitting around chatting over tea, no real recognition even that i could converse in vietnamese. the separation was really driven home though by the invisible but imposing wall between the resort beach and the local beach, where one afternoon a tragedy of sorts occurred. knox wouldn't let me go stare (which is what all the locals were doing - i would've fit right in!), so we couldn't tell what had happened, though in the end we surmised that someone had drowned. and when knox went to inquire with the beach staff at our resort, some of whom we'd already confirmed spoke fine english, all he got was a stone-faced refusal to answer. some pretended not to know what crowd of upset beach goers he was referring to, looking the other direction down the beach, while others just played the language card: "sorry, my english no good. you beach here." or more disturbing, "you no worry. they local da nang. you no problem."

"local da nang," as though this somehow meant that we could not understand or did not experience the same sorts of tragedies, as though grief and pain were not universal... or stranger still, as though this was meant to reassure us that the ocean was only dangerous on that side of the beach, that somehow our privilege protected us (doesn't it though?). it was weird. and it reminded me that though i love traveling, i hate to be the tourist. particularly in the developing world, where you are constantly questioning your motives, asking yourself why you are there and what good you're actually doing there, if your money really benefits "local da nang" or just the global conglomeration developing the hell out of what used to be local da nang.

i'll say this - it sure is hard to work on your tan when you're worrying about expropriation and the flows of global capital.