Don't ask me where I'm from or if I can come to your shop.

So it has taken less than two weeks and Brandi and I are nearly fed up with Vietnam. I think Hoi Ann did us in. We came to the city of tailors and sewing machines with high expectations planning to get new wardrobes made from a handful of the 200 tailor shops that line the city streets.

We made the mistake of accepting a free motorbike rides from two ladies who offered to take us to a hotel. They found us a sweet hotel, but wouldn't leave us alone until we went to their tailor shop. To make a really long story short, we ordered a few things, weren't satisfied, had an arguement and ended up overpaying for what we got. We tried a few more shops, but were never quite satisfied with what we got. It's a bit disappointing since everyone we talked to who came here raved about their clothes. I think Brandi and I were a bit naive about what the tailors were actually capable of and we didn't fully understand what Vietamese consider fashionable. I think some of the tailors here are quite talented and know how to sew, but there are many others who claim to be tailors and make promises they really can't fulfill. I guess it's one more lesson to add to our book. I think we'll have to buy a new book quite soon.

Vietnam is starting to chip away at our patience and friendliness, while rapidly building up our skepticism towards others. I really hoped this wouldn't happen, but it's hard to remain optomistic about people who approach you when the majority of them just want your money.
It tooks us about 12 hours to figure out their scheme. Here's the scenario that happens about 10 times for every hour you walk on the streets of Hoi An.

A person will approach you with a big smile and ask where you are from. When you answer Canada they automatically say, "Toronto?" You reply "no." "Vancouver?" "No. I'm from a very little town about 12 hours West of the Rocky Mountains." They stare back in confusion because most of them don't know where the Rockies are. They proceed to ask how long you have been in Hoi An. If you anwer, "one or two days," their eyes light up because they know you haven't completed your shopping yet and you are prime targets. When you say that magic phrase they ask, " Would you like to come to my shop. You only have to take a look." If you say no, they will continue pestering you for a few more minutes before they retreat. If you say yes, they cheerily escort you to their shop and shove magazines in your face. The tailor shop is like a huge hole that takes a lot of effort to climb out of. They will say and do anything to get you to buy and if you don't buy, their faces turn stone cold and they turn away as if they had never spoken to you.

Now... once you have been here for more than a day or two and the above scenario begins, you learn to cut it short quite quickly. After they say how long have you been here, you reply three days and they quietly disappear because they know you have been measured every which way and no longer want to look at cotton, silk or linen. If by chance you stay longer than three days (today is day four) you start to act like Brandi did this morning.

Lady: "Hello, how are you today."
Brandi: "We're not buying anymore clothes."

(The lady quickly pedals away on her bicycle.)