Episode 8 reveals a startling turn in our story– but one we’ve known about for a long time now. Dan Vandermark, one of four cast members of Jet Set Zero, left Saigon and the show in October. We have mentioned so many times before on this blog that this company– cast and crew– have grown to be something of a family. We’ve shared the stress of long Seattle workdays, the trials of establishing ourselves in a new country, and have experienced the most personal and candid moments together, and so we don’t find it easy to let someone go. Dan was as much a part of this team as anyone, and his wisdom and caution often balanced our typically impulsive tendencies. Dan helped us make “good” decisions, when, much of the time, we wanted to make “fun” decisions.

Dan’s departure came on top of the mounting stresses of our life in Vietnam. He never did quite make peace with Saigon– a harsh city of hectic streets, noise and pollution. More importantly though, Dan had a deep sense of responsibility toward his students, and felt that the indifference and lack of organization in many of the private language schools betrayed his values. I will never forget the conversation I had with him where he first expressed this idea– a deep insight into the source and abuse of our privilege in Vietnam– and I consider it one of the seminal enlightenments of my time there.

Dan was eminently reflective and among the funniest of us and I know that these traits will continue to carry him forward in life, from this adventure to the next. After Dan left Saigon, he traveled to Australia, chasing clean skies and burden-free adventure. While there, he made friends that opened him to new experiences in different parts of the country and ultimately took him to Fiji. He is now back home in frigid Oswego, where I am sure that his sense of humor and good stories warm the windows of The Raven Tavern and inspire others to seek their piece of the jet set life.

Dan is a friend like no other, and while we miss him daily, we wish him the best.

While the crew enjoys one final Vietnamese adventure on Phu Quoc island Dan packs his bags and says goodbye to Jet Set Zero.

Aaaaaand we’re back, after a lengthy interlude.  Upon completing Episode 7 I needed a little time to recover emotionally: too much of Rob’s struggle was a reflection of the events of my own life and the combined toll of that, a number of family health problems, the holiday season, and my trip to Tokyo delayed the airing of this episode by two weeks.  I apologize for the delay; we’re going to try to pick up the pace to make up for lost time.

It was sad to see Dan go (I personally knew him from college in New York), but I understand his predicament and I think he made the right choice in the end.  For a few weeks in Season 2 you’ll be seeing me stand in as a replacement, but we’re looking for a full time cast addition so keep those applications rolling!

This will be the second-to-last post about our time in Vietnam, and there, I’ll sum up October, the month when our income-spending ratio started to climb drastically.

+ $2,759: Even at hamstrung hours, we raked in almost 3k. Of course, this left us with a load of cash stuffed in envelopes hiding in our room (sometimes hiding even from us…or at least from me.
- $430: Another 2 weeks of rent
- $324: Delicious delicious food…all in all, it was only about $1/meal. I guess a diet of delicious fried noodles, delicious fried donuts, delicious fried pork with rice, another super-healthy dishes – plus some outrageous weekend splurges – is still under our summer food budget.
- $60: beer…probably lots and lots of Saigon Green
- $22: coffee…5 drinks at Starbucks or liters or liters of cafe sua da?
- $51: Xe Oms, mainly because Brian and Dan don’t dare brave the rush hour motorbike traffic for their evening classes…nor do I blame them
- $93: Gas, repairs for Bonus Hog, totally legit DVD’s and Microsoft Office, and some cell phone recharges

So: + $1779 for November plus the $862 we had when the month opened.

$2641: We’re proving this can be done! Another month of this and we’ll be in great financial shape.

Note: all of these are group funds. It’s difficult to break these down by individual, because spending and earning patterns are so erratic. Brian didn’t work as many hours so he didn’t make as much as Rob or I (slacker!). Rob sunk his money into Bonus Hog, while Dan, Brian, and I paid a little less to rent motorbikes. Dan buys DVD’s; I buy fruit and donuts; Rob buys Avocado shakes. But it all evens out in the end – we’re in this together, and funds have to be communal to some degree. After all, we’re in a communist country, and you know what they say: When in Rome…

Paradise or Prison?

Over a year ago, I remember reading Thurston Clarke’s book, Searching for Crusoe, about 13 of what the author determined to be the “last real islands” in the world. Since his name bore an eery resemblance to Thurston Howell, the well-to-do gadabout from “Gilligan’s Island”, I assumed he was an authority. The eleventh island he covered in the book was Phu Quoc, Vietnam, renowned for its beauty as well as the prison on it that was the former abode of VC POWs. The title of the chapter was “Frightening Islands”.

Our trip to Phu Quoc took a grueling 14 hours, despite being only 140 miles from Ho Chi Minh City. We took a taxi to a bus; the bus to another bus; that bus to the town of Rach Gía, where we took another bus to the port-town, Hon Chong, where we caught a ferry to the island. After that we took another, hour-long taxi ride to the hotel. That was Friday, 12am to 2pm.

On Saturday, there were no horns honking, or loudspeakers calling “Anyone want some cakes?” in Vietnamese. We woke to the soothing sounds of the Gulf of Thailand lapping against a porcelain beach, and the sight of a nectarine sunrise peaking through the thatched roofs of our bungalows. Except for Kevin and Bryan, our crew. They woke to the sound of the backhoe laying a septic tank next door. According to the Vietnamese government and their infinite wisdom, Phu Quoc will be the next Singapore. So instead of preserving the island’s natural beauty for tourism, they’re laying pipes and leveling ground. So we followed suit, and unleashed 400cc’s of rented motorbike fury on the jungle roads. We were lost the whole time, so we drove as fast as we could. We came across (in this order) a deserted coral-sand beach, a nest of angry hornets, dozens of dump trucks, and a big, weird dam down an empty and disused road in the jungle.

Our deserted beach on Phu Quoc.

The dam view of all of the dam jungle.

Sunday was the crowning moment of our weekend. We woke up mid-morning after a good old-fashioned (mini) beach bonfire Saturday night, and climbed into a one-hour taxi ride to the ferry dock, prepared for another 14 hours of travel. One problem: there was no ferry. Double-check the tickets. Yep, 12:30pm on Sunday, November 30th, 2008.

We took a walk to the nearest ticket-seller and found to our incredible dismay that we had been sold passes to a ferry that doesn’t exist. No ferries out, no ferries in, no buses, no helicopters, no submarines. We split up, Matt, Kevin and I refunded our ferry tickets while Brian and Bryan scrambled to the airport to find a flight out. As the last plane left the tarmac, we realized we’d been stranded. We had classes to teach, and the all-important Monday episode deadline. But, as it turns out, Phu Quoc was, and continues to be, an island prison.

The retro ticket counter.

The next day, we woke up at 5:30am skeptical of our chances, rushed via taxi to the airport and waited for standby tickets to Saigon. The first flight left at 7:30- one standby ticket- Matt left to catch an early class. The next flight, 8:30- two tickets- Brian and Bryan. Finally, after 2 days and 3 and a half hours of irritating the standby clerk, the final flight left Phu Quoc at 11:00, with me and Kevin aboard. Arriving in Saigon, we faced more disappointment, realizing that our misstep had placed us a week behind our production schedule, and episode-less for Monday.

So Thurston, I couldn’t believe before how such a lovely place could earn that chapter’s name, but now I know. I’ve come to realize that no matter how lovely a prison can be, at the end of the day, it’s still a prison.