The meaning of Stress and the case of the missing passport

Someone told me that it would be a good idea if I visited Mui Ne, it's a little beach resort about 5 hours (the travel agent said 3) from Saigon. Well I had a couple of days to kill before I headed to Cambodia so I thought okay. But if it's like Na Trang I'll go nuts. Well it is nothing like Na trang, gone are the annoying hawkers, the noise and then uncomfortable beach, instead what I have found is a little piece of paradise in which to work on my Christmas tan.

There was a little bit of drama before I left Saigon. I think that I mentioned that I left my passport into the hotel to have my visa extended. The lady told me that it was going to take 5 days. I would get it back on Tuesday. Well on Tuesday I got a note saying that I would get it on Wednesday. On Wednesday I went about my business a little concerned that I might actually be illegal in Vietnam but assured that I would get my passport back that evening.

That evening I was sitting in a little street cafe trying to take photos of weird stuff that people carry on their motorbikes, when this Australian man sat down right in front of me and blocked my view. Anyway it turned out that it was more interesting to talk to weird people in Vietnam than to take photos of weird stuff that people carry on their motor bikes. Michael is 65 and has a Vietnamese girlfriend, she's younger than him. After three beers he admitted that she was 26. He is divorced and wants sex and she needs money to support her child. He knows that she doesn't really love him, and actually the main reason why he was sitting in a cafe talking to me and not with her was because he couldn't get in contact with her because she had her phone switched off. It was a very strange conversation, he knew that her motives were purely financial but he said that he kinda loved her, I asked him if he was going to get married to her, and he said that he didn't know. Anyway then I left because I had to check on my passport.

You always know that there is a problem when Asian people start smiling at you and yelling at each other and this is what happened when I got back to my hotel. First I knew that there was something wrong was when the brother of the owner asked me where I was going the next day and looked relieved when I said Mui Ne, when I asked why he said, no no yes, ha ha have a beer. I told him I was not having any beer until I got my passport, then a drawer got pulled out and the contents dumped on the floor. At this point the owner arrived and said that there was an issue with my passport and that if I went on to Mui Ne they would forward it to me. ERemmmmm no! Then everyone ran out of reception except for the smiling receptionist who gave me a beer, and then her baby son arrived and started pulling at my shorts. So in the middle of this crisis I had to play with him. Then the owner lady came back and said that my passport was still with the police, well this is what she had told me the previous two days. YOU'VE LOST MY FUCKING PASSPORT, HAVEN'T YOU? She insisted, no. Well then where is it? She said yes. Asian people always say yes when they don't want to answer a question. Then the brother came in with a bag and dumped the contents of that onto the floor, lots of wine colored passports but not mine. YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE IT IS, DO YOU? I whispered (screamed), I'M GOING TO CALL MY EMBASSY! (which of course was a total bluff because there is no Irish embassy in Vietnam). The lady promised that she would have it in the morning, that it was in one of three places. The brother gave me another beer. I was hot and humid. I would have to stay in Saigon for at least one more night, and god only knows how much longer if they had lost my passport, the nearest Irish embassy is in Malaysia. They agreed to pay for my extra night and called the bus company to cancel my tickets. The next morning at 9 I went to reception and the lady didn't know what I wanted. I went out and had some breakfast, and went back, at 11.30 after sitting in reception for nearly two hours a guy arrived on a motorbike with my passport. I don't know who he was, or where he came from but at least I got my passport back.

At least now I can relax in paradise and safe in the knowledge that the hotel here can't possibly loose my passport also. I've had two very sunny days at the beach, great weather, almost too hot to sit out. Sharon asked me the other day if i still remembered the meaning of the word stress. Well I do, but in a different context. Stress means just not being able to get a streak free tan, stress means there having no hot water in the shower, stress means the lady not understanding when you ask for toilet paper, and stress totally means trying to downloads photographs onto the Internet.