london calling

I JUST BOOKED TICKETS TO LONDON!

They were $220 total, including tax and fees. I'm going to go so broke this semester, but damn it, I will see the world.

On another note, I know this city is very ethnically homogenous, but I seriously feel like the only Chinese girl in all of Prague. Not only can I count the number of Asian people I've seen on one hand (which is so weird coming from a summer in Vietnam/Asia), but I'm pretty sure all of them are Vietnamese (apparently, there's a huge population here), which I suppose is weirdly appropriate.

As for today, Czech class was a total joke. Probably around 6 of the 20 people actually showed up to the "mandatory" class, and I really only did because I forgot to turn my alarm clock off last night (and because I had to meet this academic advising lady, since last night left me enrolled in only 2 classes -- which means I wasn't even a full-time student anymore -- after I completely failed at drunkenly trying to drop/add classes and coordinate schedules with my roommate at 4 am). I'm pretty sure every person doing NYU in Prague was at Mecca last night, which has no cover Wednesday nights and has a free Sex on the Beach for ladies until midnight. It was a cute club that's overall what you'd expect when you think of European clubs: flashing lights, smoky dancefloors, techno music, guys in tight shirts and gelled hair, girls in flashy outfits, and people awkwardly bopping around on the dance floor. And I finally tried absinthe for the first time!

let's spazz

As one of our suitemates said to me last night, "Cross Club will change your life."

Stepping off the metro, I first saw what I thought was the Czech version of a frat party until I realized that people were all coming out of a metal building that seemed to melt into the surrounding grounds. The place is about four levels, the bottom three screaming of metal, grunge, dreadlocks, techno, and smoke and the top one (the one where you bought your ticket and which I suspect was actually ground level) surprisingly classy with yellow walls, tables, and paintings. I was immediately in love with the place the minute the bouncer took my arm and stamped a white stamp on my wrist that only shows up under blacklight. After we took shots of absinthe and some "dark, Czech" rum, the rest of the night, I'll admit, is a blur of swirly metal lights, loud music, and the smell of weed. We met some guys from our dorm -- one of whom is apparently the grandson of some knight in England and hangs out at the gym in Beverly Hills with Penn Badgley from Gossip Girl.

...And Amanda, Lily, and I definitely woke up at 2 pm today.

In other news, I need to get out of the habit of immediately rating clubs on the Shooters scale the minute I step into them.

my life as a sitcom

I cannot believe this conversation just happened:

Her: i need to chug my coffee before i go to lab

Me: i need to chug a coffee before i go to the club

Her: this is such a bad idea

Me: this is such a bad idea
Her: i love how we think the same

In my defense, we're in different time zones.

we're either brilliant or really stupid

Clubbing on a Tuesday night?
Why not?

After our weekend escapades, Yushen mentioned that he wanted to go out again this week before we left for our tour of the Central Region and that sounded like a fine plan to me. The thing about Hanoi though is that you never really can make definite plans for a certain day or night because circumstances arise that are just beyond your control. I feel like my motto in Vietnam has pretty much become, "Just go with it." That or, "It could be worse."

I mean, being flexible builds character, right?

So our plan for last night was to meet at 7 pm to get dinner at Ngon (the Vietnamese word for "delicious") and then find a bar or club to go to from there.

Well, turns out, the DukeEngage group had already eaten at Ngon twice before (Dave had suggested it and I just hadn't recognize the name when he said it, though I had actually really liked the place when I went before and, you know, didn't have an order miscommunication), and the guys (yes, I was the only girl of all 6 of us DukeEngage girls that went) didn't want to eat there again, so we headed off in the direction of a dirty kitchen joint, only to find it closed. Next stop? Doner kebob (please note, "Doner" not "Donner"), literally a guy with a cart in an alleyway who carves off meat roasting on a spit and puts it in a baguette for you with sauce, chili, onions, and lettuce for only 15,000 dong (which is a little less than $1).

Before we could make our way over to the lake, though, it started to rain. And rain. And rain. And rain. A Vietnamese guy came over selling rain ponchos (talk about targeting your audience, but we didn't get any), and then it rained some more. By the time we got in a cab, several streets were flooded and we had gotten substantially wet.

So we went to the Dragon Fly bar.

Unfortunately for the bar owner and us, the roof had collapsed, causing the hookah room upstairs to be closed that night. But no matter, drinks were going 25,000 dong each (less than $2), and there was a pool table and a foozeball table, where Johnny, Phil, and I dominated for two games, and then got our asses kicked by one of the bartenders who knows too much foozeball strategy for his own good.

The rain finally had slowed down to a light drizzle by around 10 pm, so we walked back to the guesthouse. By that time, only four of us were still down for going out, so Dave and I rode his bike (with rain ponchos on!), while Yushen and Eliza took a cab.

We were almost at Solace when Dave and I realized that his back tire had gone flat. Luckily for us, motorbike culture in Hanoi is huge and there are motorbike taxis on every street corner with drivers who carry around bags of tools to fix motorbikes, pump tires, etc. We got help from a shirtless motorbike taxi man who had been huddled around a fire (which, in retrospect, makes no sense because 1) it's raining and 2) it's still really hot outside even at night). I'm still adjusting to how cheap labor is around here.

When we got to Solace, we found that, apart from some security guys playing pool and two Americans who insisted on showing Eliza and me pictures of them skateboarding, we were the only ones there.

And sadly the DJ was nowhere to be found about 98% of the night. A few Vietnamese trickled in -- including a group of men who were definitely high on something other than life -- along with a handful of foreigners, but we didn't recognize any more than probably 6 of the songs played and the rest were all generic hip hop/R&B songs that had been altered and messed with.

My night was made, though, by a little Vietnamese man who was an extremely exuberant dancer and who had a penchant for getting low.

That, and Eliza's "skeet skeet skeet" dance move.

where my party people at

So I'm basically stalking a DJ in Hanoi.

Let's just say that it's a small, small world, and even smaller when you're hanging out with expats in the city. The night before last, I went with two of the Vietnamese guy roommates to a bar called the Funky Buddha to meet up with some Vietnamese students (who all study abroad in the US or UK) that one of my good Vietnamese friends knows. Introductions and a Long Island iced tea later, and I learn that 1) a girl at the table named Hillary will be moving to my state starting next year to go to the same college that my ex from high school (along with a lot of other kids from my high school) went to (Small World Moment #1) and 2) one of the guys at the table was the very same guy who was wearing a "Blow job is better than no job" T-shirt on my 6:45 am flight from Bangkok to Hanoi (Small World Moment #2). Three Princeton kids and Dave (from Duke) come to the bar later, and we all head out to go to the Loo, a club near West Lake. Dave has an extra helmet, so I get to ride sidesaddle on his motorbike (I was wearing a miniskirt) as we zoom through Hanoi at night (easily the best way to see the city).

This is probably a good place for me to stop and give a quick course in Clubbing in Vietnam 101: the clubs pretty much look just like any Western club on the inside. There's usually a bar, tables around the dancefloor, etc. You don't have to pay cover to get in, but I guess it's kind of understood that you'll get a drink and most people get a table immediately upon arriving. The "good" music is pretty much straight up American hip hop, but some places also play techno, and the Loo played this "Happy Birthday" song randomly that's super poppy that I've heard around Hanoi (other songs played that are probably less often heard in American clubs also included: "Stop and Stare," "We Will Rock You," "The Reason," "She Will Be Loved," and more). The dancing is where Vietnamese club life differs from that in America. Grinding doesn't happen, and generally guys and girls dance near each other, but not together.

Anyway, the Loo has the reputation of being the best club in Hanoi, or so we've heard. It was shut down before by the government when it was named the Toilet (rumor is that this was because of "scandalous dancing"), but it just reopened under the name the Loo, and it was definitely a ton of fun. Although it's a lot smaller than I imagined, the music was great, even though Dave and I were the only ones who knew the Soulja Boy dance (and totally did it at the front of the dance floor when the song came on). 3 more kids from my program came, and we danced and screamed along to the songs until the place closed (oh yeah, another thing about clubs in Hanoi, they all generally close really early, like 12:30 at the latest, except for a few; and apparently there's the risk of the police showing up every once and a while to make sure they're closed on time, etc.). The owner of the Loo ended up treating us all to free tequila shots, which came in giant syringes. Totally gives new meaning to shots. He broke open the Chivas as well, and we ended up hanging out with them for about an hour after the place had officially closed.

Flash forward to last night, and Dave, me, and a couple kids from my program decided to check out the Green Mango bar after hanging out at the night market in the Old Quarter. Turns out, we got to Green Mango just at end of a Sex and the City showing, but we hung around for a little bit anyway. We noticed in front of us a group of girls surrounding this guy who had taken his shirt off and was wearing a black bow tie. Johnny and I made a deal that if the other guy he was with took off his shirt as well that we'd go and take a picture with them too.

He did. We got a picture.

Turns out the Black Bow Tie Guy was called Canadian Steve, a Canadian guy (obviously) who's here doing NGO work and who was actually auctioned off last night (I think he had to make out with whoever bought him).

We headed out, and the others went back to the guesthouse while Dave and I walked over to get his motorbike, and he mentioned Funky Buddha having a party last night as well so we went over to say hi to his friends real quick (Canadian Steve too had mentioned going to the Funky Buddha that night). When we got there though, the place seemed closed, so Dave took me to Solace, which is this really fun bar/club on the river. We got drinks, ran into a couple people from Dave's office, danced for a bit, etc. The place had a ton of young European and American expats, it seemed.

Dave and I were actually on our way out, when we run into his friend Laura outside. Laura lived two years in Bangkok, where I just was last weekend (Small World Moment #3) and next to her is Hillary from the Funky Buddha (Small World Moment #4). They were both also with a girl named Ellen who goes to college in New York and who Dave had met at a fashion show like 2 years ago (Honorary Small World Moment). She's dating the guy who's going to be reopening the Lighthouse bar, which I think got shut down by the government before too. It's kind of crazy how these places just close and then reopen constantly. Anyway, they convince us to go back and dance some more (I figured I'm already out past the 11 pm lock-up time for the guesthouse, so I'll have to wake up the guard guy anyway to get him to open the door for me), and on our way back in, we get stopped by none other than Canadian Steve (Small World Moment #5). We get inside and find Laura, Hillary, and everyone dancing with the owner of the Loo (Small World Moment #6), who (since I didn't describe him earlier) is this little Vietnamese guy with a shaved head and a tat on his lower neck. It was really fun, until all of a sudden the electricity cuts out the place goes totally black.

I figure that's my cue to head back to the guesthouse because I'm already starting to guilt trip about waking up the guard multiple times two nights in a row without advance notice, when I look over at the DJ booth and instantly recognize the (very cute) DJ from the Loo the night before last (Small World Moment #7).

I've decided that he's my lucky charm for a fun night out.

slow motion for me

I officially have a crush on a local.

Let me backtrack for a minute.

About four nights ago, we were wandering around the city, as per our usual favorite nighttime activity, when we stumbled upon a large square packed with kids doing karate, riding bikes, etc. Each activity had its own little corner of the square, and right at the top of the stairs was a group of high school students breakdancing and popping and locking. The best guy was dressed head to toe in black (black baggy jeans, black T-shirt, silver chain, black bandana) and looked like the 14-year-old, Vietnamese version of the guy from Dirty Dancing Havana Nights (and the age description here is not the usual oh-Asians-always-look-younger-than-they-are comment; this kid was actually only 14). You know the cool kids in school that already had a bunch of groupies and that all the other kids wanted to dress like and talk like and be like? We were pretty sure these were Those Kids.

So we made friends.

Fast forward to the next day, and Johnny is back from hanging out with said Cool High School Kids to tell us about the Even Cooler High School Kids that he had met. Apparently, he had befriended the pop and lock champion of the city -- and said champion had agreed to give us lessons.

Which is why last night, Rosie, Johnny, Sam, and I found ourselves surrounded by some the sweetest pop and lock moves I've ever seen and some of the sickest outfits (one guy had on a doo-rag and another had on an outfit that I've definitely worn before -- tight black T-shirt, skinny grey jeans, black ankle boots, red and black checkered bandana), the music blasting from a bike that Rosie and I had chased a guy down to borrow and that was pimped out with speakers and lights. The second-in-command dancer was surprisingly cute.

And what can I say, I'm attracted to talent.