And The Curtain Falls

I've just learned that my internet problems aren't the cause of a lame ISP but instead a government action. Facebook is banned. As well as other sites that are popular forms of social communication[so not Myspace]. I believe that my blog is also blocked, as I have to use a web proxy to make this post. There are several theories going around as to why the ban, some say the government fears security breaches through the display of private information, others say it has something to do with an upcoming election. Whatever the reason, its rather annoying and hopefully will be temporary, as I can't post photographs using a proxy.
But I can still write. So let me take this rare chance to poke out from under the ISP curtain. On Friday, Daphne and I stopped by our future apartment to sort some stuff out. We found a nearby Chinese restaurant where after having some good soup we decided to make it one of our future regulars[we have so many places in our current neighbourhood to drink and eat, where will we go now?].
I took an alternate, exploratory route back home when something in my bike started making a clicking noise and causing it to jump. Slowly, and with continued auditory threats from the bike, we made our way to my local bike shop where I always go to get work done[2:30pm].
The first mechanic to deal handle it said I needed a new chain for the wheel and also a new brake. Well enough. Though after paying for that and getting on the bike, I had to do a U-turn almost immediately when I realized the problem persisted. So he drove the bike around, came back, tightened some screw and gave me back the keys. Again, another U-turn and I was getting frustrated. So another mechanic, my regular, had a drive and came back telling me the engine and the gears are messed up. They took the entire engine and gear box apart, showing me all the pieces that needed to be replaced and quoting a price to the tune of 900,000 VND[$50][4:30pm]. Now, by Western standards this isn't much for a bike repair, but in fact this is four times more than any other job I've had done on the bike, and this isn't including the 200,000 VND I had just spent on replacing a chain that wasn't the problem. Discount? Not negotiable. So they told us to come back at 7.
We headed home, picking up two cartons of soy milk on the way. When we got to the door of my apartment on the 11th floor, I searched my pocket for the keys, which were still on the key chain in the bike shop. Lamenting our gross error, we decided to not bother with going back but instead to have a drink down at a street bar until 7. I left the soy milk by the door, hoping it would go undisturbed, and we made our way down.
While drinking at the street bar, we were joined by an old drunk who proceeded to joyfully tell his life story to us. In Vietnamese. Completely disregarding that we couldn't understand. As he used his foreign hand gestures and fast talk to tell his stories, Daphne and I took turns using our imagination to translate for eachother what he was saying. "He fell in love with a French girl during the war, and then something about his legs getting blown off by a grenade."Actually, his legs were just fine, but everytime we did this he would rejoice that he was being understood and shake my hand and offer cheers. Behind him, other locals were dictating with their hands that the gentleman was not just drunk, but insane. Still, it was quite amusing and helped the time pass.
At 7 we made our way back to the bike shop, only to find that they weren't finished putting the bike back together. Another hour we waited, as we watched them reassemble the bike, and a new bill was presented to me, with an addition of nearly 300,000 VND for extra parts. This was quite upsetting and pushed me over the edge. I tried explaining to them, even though they didn't understand any English, that they can't add more things without first consulting me. But they just kept pointing at the parts they replaced and treating me like I was stupid and didn't understand. There was a lot of fussing, hand gestures, mechanics arguing with other mechanics, until finally, the bike was back together and the guy took it for a test drive. Only to find out that it was still broken. So they appologize, agree to the 900,000 bill, and ask me to come back the next day for the bike[8:30pm].
We had held out for dinner until the bike was fixed and now were starving, so we grabbed a taxi to the backpacker area for dinner. It was a good meal and helped distract us from the events of the day, until Daphne looks at me and asks,"Did you get the house key?" Twice in one day, I had forgotten the key. Luckily I still have a roommate[for just another week] and he was able to leave the door unlocked for us. I'll be making extra copies of my next apartment key, that's for sure.
Went the next day after work to pick up my bike. It was running like new, but the price was back to where it was the night before. But as they had replaced another part and didn't charge for it, I took it as a consolation, accepted that I'm in a country with different service standards, and consoled myself with the fact that my bike was now running as if it were brand new. Paying for the bike, I went to get Daphne and we went to have Indian for dinner. At dinner, she offered a toast to my bike being fixed, but I dared not accept, fearing to take chances with jinxes.
Still, even though my bike is working well now, I think I'm ready for something new. So I'll be on the lookout for a new moto and selling my old one soon.