Last Days in Ho Chi Mihn City/Saigon

 We are on our way home in line at the Emirate Airlines counter.  Our flight is at midnight.  We'd been told to arrive at 7pm, which seemed earlier than necessary. So we got here at 8pm, and the counter doesn’t open until 8:55 pm. That’s only 10 minutes from now. 

 And at precisely 8:55 a line of uniformed ticket agents stands facing us, bow, assume their stations, and the line begins to move. Efficient and charming.  

And that illustrates how all the service personnel in hotels, restaurants and other locales along the way has been. Everyone has been polite and friendly. Sometimes it feels to the point of subservient and a little uncomfortable. I do like the slight bowing, though. 

 

We spent the last two days of our trip in Saigon. Though Ho Chi Mihn City is now its official name, and has been since the war ended in 1975, it is often still called Saigon, understandable since HCMC is a bit cumbersome to say, and also because Saigon has historically been its name. It doesn’t seem to be an issue.  

I was expecting to not be overly impressed with Saigon, having somehow had the impression that Hanoi had more character and charm. So I was pleasantly surprised that I enjoyed our stay as much as I did.  We were at the Grand Hotel, a historic place built in the 1930s, in the center of the city. It was surrounded by numerous other luxury hotels. It was probably the ritziest of the hotels we stayed at, although the Morin in Hue was pretty elegant too.   There was a courtyard with a nice pool, and our room had an impressive view of the skyline and river.  

We went to the War Remnants Museum, which is a representation of what the Vietnamese call the American War. It was one of the most moving and upsetting places I have ever been, on a par with places like Auschwitz and the September 11th Museum, and the Holocaust Museums I have been to. There were a certain number of foreign tourists, few of whom were Americans. Many of the visitors were groups of school children, largely of middle school age. One exhibit was the photography of a number of foreign journalists, a couple of whose names I remembered, all of whom had died in the war. It was chilling to read their last reports, and then that they had died the following day.  

Most upsetting was the exhibit about Agent Orange. There were graphic photos of people with horrible birth defects, both physical and mental. And US soldiers as well as Vietnamese citizens have been affected by the the chemicals, down through subsequent generations.  

Kim, our guide, had warned us when he dropped us off at the museum that we would see a different perspective on the war from what we were used to. I think he expected us to be surprised. I wasn’t at all surprised, and in general felt that the presentation was fairly even-handed. Yes, the U.S. was presented as the enemy. Well, we were, and I didn’t get the feeling of the US being an evil empire or anything like that. The message I got was more that war is evil.  

I would like to have known what the school children were told, and thought, about the war.  

I am glad that we had Kim and our driver to take us and pick us up from the places we went. We could have gone by cab, but it was so much easier to have rides arranged. The city is vast and sprawling, and I am glad we were in the area we stayed in. 

From our hotel room the day we arrived, we could hear extremely loud music, even with the windows closed. And from the lovely rooftop bar, (high on my list of hotel criteria, for the view, not the bar part) the music was equally loud and annoying.  

When we went for a walk, we discovered the source. There was a festival on the main walking mall. There was a stage, tables and chairs and rows of more chairs. And dozens of women and men in traditional costumes and a large number of additional costumes hanging and performers waiting in a backstage area. We discovered that it was the annual Ao Dai Festival, celebrating the traditional Vietnamese costume, consisting of a long silk tunic with slits up the sides, paired with silk trousers in a matching or contrasting color. They are worn by men as well as women, and there were men wearing them in the presentation as well as in the audience.  

We watched the show for a while, including numerous speeches and presentations of flowers, to Vietnamese and foreign dignitaries and celebrities. We understood none of it, of course.  The performances were mostly parades of young women and men, fashion show style. Some of the performances  included music and projections, and dancing with fans and such. One was a group of blind children singers. 

A young woman pop singer performed. Then a male singer with blond hair sang a few songs. Some of it was in English. Loring caught a few words that sounded like field, mines, and helicopter. He sang it in both Vietnamese and English. We later found out from Kim that he was American, came to Vietnam as a volunteer from Princeton in 2009, sang in karaoke bars and eventually a singing competition, then became a phenomenon. He has become a Vietnamese citizen, is married to a Vietnamese woman. We found him online and the lyrics to the song, which indeed included fields and helicopters, but what Loring heard as mine”” was actually “rice.” His name is Kyo York.  

We went to dinner, then returned to the festival which was still going strong, and we watched a little longer. It was the whole phenomenon that most interested me, rather than the performances themselves. There were the invited and/or paying guests, then all of us behind the barricades, It was almost entirely locals, many with kids, trying to see from the sidelines. 

The Art Museum doesn’t seem to be on any of the tourist itineraries, but is well worth visiting. It is three buildings and contains both Vietnamese and foreign art, from early artifacts to modern painters. Most interesting to me were some large lacquer paintings that depicted scenes during wartime. I had never seen lacquer used that way, am more familiar with it on decorated plates and boxes which are easily found in the souvenir shops here. (I resisted.) 

At the museum, we were especially entertained by the many young women posing with the art and the architecture (it’s a beautiful old building) taking large numbers of selfies and each other and the art, and sometimes by the young men they were with. They were clearly planning to post numerous pix to social media. Many were wearing the ao dai or other fancy outfits. It really was quite amusing. I wondered if this was related to the festival or if it was an ongoing pastime.  It also was similar to the scene in Hoi An, where there were numerous women wearing the outfits and posing at various places along the river. We’d been told at the time that they were foreign Asian tourists, but I am now wondering if they were mostly or all Vietnamese.  

The first place we’d seen people walking and posing in the outfits was actually in Hanoi at one of the temples. Our guide there said people rented them on the site.   

Our last day in Saigon, and in the country, until our midnight flight home, was when we went to the art museum.  Then we lounged at and in the pool and finished our stay in a wonderful way with a performance at the Saigon Opera House. I was thrilled that we were able to get tickets, because it was a company called the Bamboo Circus that we had tried to see in Hoi An, but they were not performing that night. I hadn’t thought we’d be able to see it in Saigon either, because we were leaving that night. But the show was at 6pm and our flight was at midnight, so it worked out. We got the tickets that am, and there weren’t many left. The Opera House was only a five-minute walk from our hotel. Before the show there was a 15-minute tour of the theatre. 

It was a great performance and way to end our stay. Bamboo Circus is an apt name. They perform three different shows in three cities – Hanoi, Hoi An, and Saigon. If we had been able to see one in one of the previous cities, I think I would have wanted to see a second one. It was that good. It’s about 20 gymnastic performers plus a number of musicians playing both traditional and modern instruments (ie a four- or five-piece rock band.)  They use bamboo as a symbol of the culture, but also as the means for performing a creative variety of innovative scenes, using poles, baskets, and other props.  The scenes were very creative and the performers very talented. They went from depicting workers in fields to construction workers and break dancers in the city.  

Again, I hadn’t seen mention of the show in any tourist itineraries I’d looked at although it was surely included in many group tours. Just a reminder to myself to try and do a little more homework if we do a private tour like this again, to make sure that we include the places I want to go.  

But for the most part, we were both really pleased with the way this trip worked out, and very impressed with the tour company’s arrangements for our guides and drivers, connections, and lodging. I did choose many of the hotels myself. It’s hard to know if the places they’d suggested would have been as nice, not as nice, or nicer! 

 

One place I realize I neglected to mention in Hoi An is a café/ crafts store called Reaching Out. It features crafts all by people with disabilities.  The café workers are clients as well. I watched a man precisely cutting small bamboo sticks and assembling them, without first realizing that he was making paper lanterns. I also hadn’t realized that the people all had disabilities, and that he had the use of only one hand, until another employee told me. Lanterns are a big part of Hoi An, they are everywhere.  I brought home a couple, of course.  

I’m going to end with a list of the Vietnam related books we read and a list of the places we stayed. 

  

The Quiet American           Graham Greene  

Aloha Vietnam                      Elizabeth Nguyen  

The Mountains Sing            Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai  

The Beauty of Humanity Movement: Camilla Gibb 

Mãn                                         Kim Thúy 

And I'd be remiss if I didn't mention The Things we Carried, by Tim O'Brien, although I didn't read it on this trip but many years ago. It is one of the most beautifully written and powerful books I've ever read, not only about the Vietnam War, but in general. I probably should read it again.

 

 

 

 The places we stayed: 

 

Hanoi              The Chi Hotel         

Halong Bay   The Peony Cruise    

Hue                Hotel Saigon Morin   

Hoi An            La Luna Resort  

Quy Nhon     The Avani           

Mekong       Bamboo Eco Lodge  

Saigon          The Grand Hotel     

 

Until our next adventure! 

From the Mekong

 

From the Mekong, days later.

We are now at our next to last stop, at a small hotel in a small village on a tributary of the Mekong river. Rivers are everywhere here, in this long narrow country that we have traversed, from north to south, in the past nearly three weeks.

This morning, in  a couple of hours, our guide here, Kim, will pick us up and bring is to our last stop, Ho Chi Mihn City.

The city is more commonly known as Saigon, formerly the capital of South Vietnam. According to our guide and things I’ve read, older people, at least in the southern part of the country, still refer to it as Saigon. There is apparently no consequence for referring to it that way. If nothing else, Ho Chi Mihn City is cumbersome on the tongue.

I am sitting in the gardens of Bamboo Eco Village, a place I chose after browsing the internet, after several suggestions by Luke at the travel agency. It is more rustic than the places he suggested, and further from the city,   the base for exploring the Mekong area. There are various tourcompanies that have day trips to this area from Saigon, but since it is a three hour drive, I imagine it would be a rather grueling day trip.

This place is beautifully landscaped, with lily pads and various fruit trees, and Monet- like bridges, constructed largely of bamboo. And a number of tables set under thatched roofs, under one of which I am sitting now. Our bungalow is constructed of bamboo, wood and brick, and has a outdoor shower and bathroom, totally private. There’s a mosquito net over the bed, which I  find both atmospheric and worrying. But the room is air conditioned, and after an initial bite there were no mosquitos to be found. I did sleep under the netting the first night, but for last night decided it wasn’t necessary. Loring finds the netting claustrophobic, I find it comforting and charming.  And romantic, although with one of us sleeping under it and the other outside, not sure how romantic that is.

Yesterday we visited a few places with locals showing us their cooking or other skills. We began the day early, at 630, with a drive up to Can Tho, where we embarked on a boat for trip up the river, (actually close to our Eco Village) to the floating markets. The neatest part of the trip was that they served us breakfast on the boat. I don’t know how this idea originated,  or how common it is, but it was delightful. There were pastries, fruits, hardboiled eggs, coffee and tea, and fresh juice. It was a treat to eat while cruising up the river. The boat had a couple of tables that could have accommodated four each, but we were the only passengers. We passed and were passed by many other boats, some bigger, some smaller than ours, mostly carrying tourists but some others with locals. Perhaps going fishing, or to the market themselves.

I had imagined the market to be much like the one I’d seen in Bangkok some years ago, where the boats were all crammed together, a real market  but very touristic, and who knows what it might be like now. But although this was also touristed, the merchants boats were spread out across the river, with smaller boats rowing up to them. It seemed as though the small boats were both buying from and selling to the larger ones. And maybe that was true. I’ll try to remember  to ask Kim today.

The bigger boats weren’t huge, as I’d imagined from Kim’s description. They were mostly houseboats with a family living on them.

Later we went to a fish farm,  on an island that we took a short ferry to. We were joined by a young woman, a local guide. She told us that the area had begun to be developed for tourism about seven years ago. The fish farm was fascinating. They took us to a number of pens with a variety and different sizes of fish. When she fed them for us tourists, they jumped clear out of the water. And then there was a pen with smaller fish that you could put your feet in and have them nibble, supposedly to clean your feet of dead skin. I’m not sure it actually did that, but it was amusing to put your feet in and feel them, and virtually everyone who tried it giggled because it tickled!

We were led on a short path through the village to a spot with a couple of tables, surrounded by logan trees. We were brought three different varieties – the very sweet ones, the medium sweet, and the least sweet but meatiest . I liked them all, and gobbled down a number of them. To me they are somewhat similar to rambutan, which I also like. I suppose a Vietnamese would not think they are alike. The texture is similar to a grape, whitish in color. You don’t eat the outer part, you peel them, and then there’s an inner seed which you also don’t eat.

Next we were taken to another house to learn to make a couple of local dishes. One was a kind of crepe, but made   from rice flour, and cooked crispier, which was filled with a shrimp and vegetable mixture. The other was also rice flour, cooked over a fire in a pan similar to one for poaching eggs. The batter went in each individual spot, and once it was cooked, over a fire with a lid over it, it was filled with a custard -like filling.

Unfortunately I have been plagued with some kind of stomach bug since the snake potion episode on Halong Bay almost two weeks ago. I have not had any vomiting or other extreme symptoms, since the first night, but have had pretty much no appetite and have had to force myself to eat anything. What a shame in a place known for its cuisine, much of which I love. It is amazing how many different ways they can use rice and rice batter to produce different dishes, most of them delicious.

The buffet breakfasts everywhere we’ve stayed have been sumptuous. They   all include a variety of dishes that we’d normally eat for lunch or supper, stews and stir fries, soups including pho and congee. There’s also always a selection of cold cuts and cheeses, and a variety of breads and small cakes. Something for everyone.  And usually an omelette/egg station. One had a waffle station. And always a variety of local fruits. My favorites have been dragon fruit, both beautiful and delicious. And rambutans are another favorite, although not often served at the breakfast buffets. One hotel, though, had a welcome basket including small oranges, rambutan,  grapes, and more.

Our last four days before the Eco Village were at the  Avani resort outside of Quy Nhon. It was a beautiful place, right on the ocean. There were ocean views from bed, from the balcony, and also from the shower, with a sheer glass walls and total privacy. 

It is a beautiful place, but unfortunately, the four days we were there were all stormy, with intermittent rain. The sea was rough. So what was supposed to be our four day beach sojourn was not much of a beach stay. Loring did walk down the beach to the nearby village one day, and he also swam a couple of times in the infinity pool.

It was still a stunning place, and since I’d still not been feeling well, a good place to lay low and relax. As in other places, signs of future development were everywhere. There were several other hotel/ resorts along the coast from the city. But there were at least twice  that many planned or already under construction.  It is difficult to tell how many are still being built, and how many were started and halted by covid, perhaps not to be built at all. There didn’t seem to be that many signs of ongoing construction.

To get to Quy Nohn we returned to DaNang and then took a six hour train ride. Luke, our travel agent, had said he would book an entire four passenger cabin for us, which didn’t seem necessary. In retrospect, though, it was a good idea. There were two upper berths and two lower. It was daytime, so we didn’t really need the beds. But I stretched out on one, and wound up sleeping about half of the six hour trip. The rest of the time I lay stretched out as well, enjoying the panorama of the endless rice fields streaming by outside  the window.

We arrived and were picked up by our local guide and brought to the hotel. The connections along the way have been well organized, with someone meeting us at each juncture to bring us to the next.

The only time a connection didn’t work well was at the airport in Saigon a couple of days ago. We waited a half hour until our guide, our current guide Kim, finally arrived. We had just decided to call the travel agency, and Loring was on the phone with someone there, when Kim finally showed up. There had apparently been some misunderstanding, but i never understood what it was. In any case, we were just glad to see him, and it was hard to be frustrated because he was so good natured.

 

A few days later, writing  from the check-in line at Saigon airport.

 

We are on our way home in line at the Emirate Airlines counter.  Our flight is at midnight.  We'd been told to arrive at 7pm, which seemed earlier than necessary. So we got here at 8pm, and the counter doesn’t open until 8:55 pm. That’s only 10 minutes from now.

 And... at precisely 8:55 four uniformed ticket agents stand facing us, bow, assume their stations, and the line begins to move. Efficient and charming.

And that illustrates how all the service personnel in hotels, restaurants and other locales along the way has been. Everyone has been polite and friendly. Sometimes it feels to the point of subservient and is a little uncomfortable. I do like the slight bowing, though, which is mutual.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Half Hue and Half Hoi An

Several days and two locations later:

We are now in the city of Hoi An, having left the boat for the flight to Hue and two nights there. I will backtrack and hopefully catch up.

Hue is a pleasant enough city, also bustling but not nearly as much as is Hanoi. We stayed at the Hotel Saigon Morin. I never figured out why Saigon is part of its name. It is an historical hotel, dating from 1901, and still has a charming ambiance.

The building fronts on the Perfume River, which our room looked out to, with a small balcony. There is a lovely interior courtyard with a pool, which we didn’t use and never saw anyone use. We did sit  in the courtyard a couple of times, once for dinner, once for drinks, accompanied by raucous frogs, whom Loring later located sitting in the fronds in planters.

The weather is warm but has not been uncomfortably hot, a good thing in general, but not conducive to lazing in a pool. There is a pool here in Hoi An too, with lots of lounge chairs and a bar. We are staying here for four days, so hopefully will get to use the pool at some point. But right now it is raining.

There is a beach a few k’s down the road, and in fact  there is a huge stretch of beach all the way from Da Nang, where we reached the coast yesterday in our drive here from Hue.

Our guide from Hue to here is Tuan, which was also Smoky in Hanoi’s real name. Each of them has been very friendly and knowledgeable and a pleasure to be with. Smoky/Tuan stayed in a hotel in Ha Long for the two days we were on the boat, although our driver there (the one who took the wrong road) was replaced by another. Smoky said it was because he had an uncle’s funeral in Hanoi to attend. But I wonder if it had something to do with the screw up. I will continue to feel terrible for him, as he no doubt will continue to feel about himself.

Here, our driver will stay with our guide, Tuan Two, for one  night, take us on a tour of the area this afternoon , and then return to Hue, while we continue to stay here.

In a couple of hours they will pick us up for a tour of the countryside, which hopefully will be interesting. There are tourists wherever we go, and most are on group tours, a way of travel we have rarely done. They are largely Asian, (Tuan says mostly Korean) and some European, and a few but not many Americans.

The only time I can remember being on a group tour was in Cuba (where it’s required) and where it was a pretty positive experience. We did sneak off for a week on our own there to stay at a b and b type place, which wasn’t hard to arrange.

This time, we opted for an arrangement that is basically a private tour. We started with a suggested itinerary, which you can tweak and change as much as you like. And as you might guess, I did a lot of tweaking and changing. Luke at the London based agency was very helpful and patient with all my queries. I somehow have a feeling I made a lot more changes than most.

The template was an 18 day itinerary, which we lengthened to 21 days. He made suggestions of hotels, to which I mostly said, too fancy, too resorty. And there were activities planned for every day, which we whittled down to about half, with a number of free days.  Thinking about it, most of the cuts involved rides of some kind, ie the back of the Vespa, no thanks, also on a WWII era Jeep (although an Australian woman we met said it was a lot of fun,) and one company, not the one we chose, had included a buffalo ride.

This arrangement has worked out very well so far, and I assume will continue to do so. All our connections, car, plane, boat, and train ( a six hour ride, yet to come, to our next destination) are arranged for us. And we have both a driver and a guide in each place. The guides speak fairly good English, the drivers nearly none.

In Hue, Tuan took us to several temples, pagodas, and mausoleums. They were all impressive, and we never would have been able to see as much on our own. The architecture is beautiful, with many surfaces painted, enameled, mosaicked,  etc. Some of the mosaics are what is called pic assiette, (by me, probably not here) which is broken pieces of pottery, plates and bowls. I thought it was a modern technique, will have to research more. Then again, none of the buildings are ancient;  old I guess by U.S. standards, 19^th century, but not ancient by Asian, as I would have guessed. They are either temples to Buddha and other gods, or to emperors, built by themselves. The mausoleums were planned by the monarchs themselves, including the tombs. Aside from not being as old as I would have guessed, they have largely been recreated. Some were damaged or destroyed by typhoons, according to Tuan. But I am thinking that much of the damage has been from bombings by the US during the Viet Nam war, (called the American War here.)

Tuan told us that the locations of the King’s tombs within the compounds was kept secret, to prevent looting, so while the general location was known, the exact spot was not.  In one case, 100 soldiers were beheaded to keep the secret, in another, apparently 200. Or so the story goes.

In Hue, the beginning of our tour was a short boat ride on the Perfume River, which ran in front of our hotel, to the Imperial City, and within it, to the Forbidden City. These compounds had gardens, ponds, places for only the king to relax, and libraries, royal theaters, sections for the concubines, etc. The kings had multiple wives and many children, but only the children of the first wife were potential heirs. I read some reference of a conflict between sons of one king for the throne, but don’t know how common that was.

The boat ride, I assume, is an element of many tourist itineraries. What impressed me was that the small boat (it could have held perhaps 10 or a dozen, but we and Tuan were the only passengers) was also the family’s home. There were a couple and a small child who peeked out briefly as we came onboard. And there were crafts of many kinds that she kindly encouraged us to buy. I did buy some silk pajamas, the jacket of which I’ve already worn several times. ( and gotten comments from locals about. They seemed happy that I’d bought them, even though not from them.) I wasn’t sure how couth or uncouth it was to wear the whole outfit in the street, especially for a foreigner. I may still.

Later in the day, back from our excursion with Tuan

We had cancelled our cooking class this morning, because neither of our stomachs felt settled. No appetite, and no appeal to the idea of cooking. We have rescheduled for tomorrow, when we hopefully both will feel better.

I had been sick for several days, violently so the first day. But Loring had been feeling fine until now.

I don’t think we have the same thing. I am pretty sure what caused mine, and have myself to blame. I did something really stupid. It's the only thing I tried, aside from perhaps sampling a couple of different things at the lavish breakfast buffet  that Loring didn’t,  so seemed obvious that was the cause. But now that mine is lingering and L has similar symptoms, who knows.

Okay, you want to know how stupid? This is how stupid:  at the small village we stopped at on the Lan Ha Bay, there was a stand where there were several varieties of local liquor : one was artichoke, two were some type of herbs, and the last, was a jar full of snakes. Yep, snakes. I tried the artichoke brew first. Strong. And then someone from another group sampled the snake potion. I could not resist trying. Strong too, of course.

That was it. Until about 3 o’clock the next morning. I’ll spare you the details but it wasn’t pretty. And I haven’t felt quite right since. Pretty much no appetite. A real shame given the wide variety of food everywhere, and especially the elaborate breakfast buffets included in all of our stays. There are all kinds of Vietnamese dishes, of course, although not what I’d expect at a breakfast. Fried rice, noodles, chicken, pork and fish dishes, along with bacon, eggs, sausage, potatoes, cheeses, meats,  wide variety of tropical fruits and juices. And yogurt, cereal, little cakes, croissants, various breads, etc. On the cruise there were soups too, at breakfast, as well as at the other meals, a different kind each day. Luckily on the boat, where all of our meals were included, I didn't imbibe the snake stuff until later in the cruise.

But since then, our few days in Hue and now Hoi An, I've stuck to Pho, fried rice, a few plain cakes and breads, and finally this am, an omelet.  And fruit, the only thing I’ve craved, but not the best thing for a queasy stomach.

On our drive here from Hue yesterday, we made a couple of stops. One was a rest stop at what was also a pearl making village. Stores full of jewelry. I was definitely tempted by some of the irregular pearls I love to use in making jewelry, but resisted. (so far. ) But there’s always Saigon.

I have purchased a few things, the silk pajamas, a couple of small bowls in the pottery village today.

We made a stop at the Marble village, replete with large shop/showrooms, each with enormous as well as smaller statues and items made of marble. They were certainly impressive, but the places were a bit of a hustle, not surprising of course. They followed us around emphasizing how they could ship anything home for us. Right, even a small marble statue could easily cost more to ship than the item itself.  But I don’t know, a life size replica of Michaelangelo’s David might look nice in the yard.

We also stopped at a place called the Marble Mountain, one of five caves in the area. There is a pagoda, and you can take an elevator up the mountain partway, which is what most people do. And then you can climb up further, which Loring and Tuan did. The cave is much more extensive then we’d imagined, even at the lower level, and more so at the top, as I gleaned from Loring’s pictures. There are all kinds of little crevices with statues of Buddha inside.

 Tuan, who is probably in his forties, was very impressed with Loring’s fortitude. And maybe even more so when we told him about Loring’s yearly wilderness backpacking trips, where they aim for the most remote places they can find, and hope to see nobody for two weeks, a goal they sometimes achieve.

Da Nang, where the Americans had a base  during the war, is a sprawling and mostly unappealing city. The beach stretches for miles, and Tuan said is very beautiful. We could see the waves but not the beach itself.

The most impressive,  although not in a good way, aspect driving thru is the number of large hotels, and more under construction, along the road opposite the beach. Worse than that are the large number of unfinished hotels. Framed in concrete structures, one after another of them, left unfinished. According to Tuan, many started construction  before the pandemic and then ran out of money. I don’t know what was more depressing, the view of building after building unfinished, or the idea of them completed.

We had seen some of the same completed and unfinished development in Halong Bay, distressing in itself, but this was more extensive and therefore worse. I can’t fault the Vietnamese for wanting to develop tourism. But development to the extent that it harms the the beauty of the country and the environment is upsetting.

I wondered if there were even parts of the country that maintained the old ways. There are, of course, and we saw a bit of that in our trip outside Hoi An today. But there is also extreme poverty.

We went to three craft villages today, not far out of the city. They are touristy, of course, but luckily we seem to have beat the tourist busses who came as we were heading out, on their day tours of several areas out of Danang or Hoi An. The first was just one family’s house where they weave multicolored grass mats which are what they sleep on, attached to a bamboo bedframe. I had a brief go at sending the shuttle through. The woman seemed very impressed that I sat on the cement, mat covered floor. There was no sign or any indication of tourist activity. I think they just sold them to the locals. No placemats or anything, only the bedsized mats and smaller ones that they used on bamboo benches as a pad as well. They sold the bed sized ones for about four dollars, and I think could make several in a day.

Next it was on to the woodworking village, which was more tourist oriented. We first visited a shop whose family were thirteenth generation woodworkers. The father was in his 80s and still working. We met the son. They made incredibly intricate carvings of gods, goddesses, a lot of other creatures and scenes, of various sizes. The talent and detail was amazing. Some must have sold for thousands of dollars. They were museum quality. The father’s work had been acknowledged by Unesco and shown in many places.  

Next was the rice paper and noodle making place. In the front a man made a variety of rice paper items, including fake money, candy, clothing, shoes, all of which was meant to be sent off with a deceased person at a funeral, and then burned.

In the back a man and a woman made rice noodles, a process they demonstrated and then invited us to try. The process involved spreading a ground rice batter in a pan,  then lifting it to a drying rack, and finally stacking a slew of them and sending them thru a kind of pasta maker.

There was also a dried variety of the same stuff, looking rather like papadan. The woman took two, made a sandwich with a wet one of the not yet noodled ones, and pounded it all to pieces like you would with Turkish taffy. I thought it was quite good, and a good snack for my unsettled stomach. Loring didn’t seem as interested.

There was one more stop, at the Ceramics village. This was the most touristed one. There was actually an admission fee. Tuan paid for us, as our guides have at all of our stops, so I don’t know what it cost. I doubt it was much, and you got a little clay whistle along with your admission.  Here there was an open air ceramics museum, which might be interesting but to which we probably won’t return. And tons of little shops and pottery studios. Again I got to try making something, this time a small pot, with some help.  There were lots of large and small bowls, teacups, etc. I bought two tiny blue and white bowls, of which I have a small collection at home. I use them mostly for sauces, especially with Asian cooking. Just as they do here. I doubt they were made at that shop, but I do think they were made in Vietnam. At least they say Made in Vietnam on the bottom. But I am also very gullible.

Well, I think I’ve caught us up. It’s now dinnertime, and we are trying to decide where and what to eat. We could easily go back to the restaurant here at the hotel. But Loring seems sure that’s what gave him the stomach bug last night.

We’ve pretty much decided that pho is the thing for both of us. Vietnamese chicken (or beef ) noodle soup for the body and soul.

Now the question is where and when. It has only rained intermittently since we’ve been here, but was pouring a few minutes ago. Now it seems to have slowed down or even stopped. Time to mobilize.

More to come.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our Woman in Hanoi

 

We are on the Peony dayboat in Halong  and Lan Ha Bays in Vietnam. This is a part of our two night cruise on the Peony, a 20 cabin boat. Halong is one of the most famous and most scenic places in the country.  The bay comprises myriad rock formations called karsts that jut out of the water. Even in the mist that is currently covering the area, it is incredibly scenic and moody. 

Today we will spend most of the day cruising the bays, with stops at a beach and near a village, which we’ll approach by bicycle and electric golf cart (bike for Loring,  electric cart for me.)

We drove several hours from Hanoi yesterday, with Smoky, our guide in Hanoi, and our driver. Unfortunately the driver took the wrong road, adding quite a bit to our drive, because we needed to double back toward Hanoi quite a way. The driver was embarrassed and extremely apologetic, and Smoky was clearly frustrated and annoyed with him.  He didn’t speak much English but sure said “sorry” a number of times. After Smoky reassured us that we wouldn’t miss the boat, we were fine with the situation. Smoky had planned for us to take the slower route to the bay, stopping along the way at a village where they make ceramic pottery. And the plan is to take the faster highway back tomorrow, to take us back to the Hanoi airport for our flight to Hue, the next lap of our trip.

I felt terrible for the driver, especially knowing how important “face” is in the culture. It must have been excrutiating for him to be strongly berated by the guide, in front of us. He seemed appreciative that we were reassuring, though, and gave us each a big hug when he dropped us off at the dock..

We did stop, along with a slew of tourist busses, at a rest stop where there were bathrooms and a café, and also about five large rooms filled with crafts of many kinds, pottery, jewelry, paintings, embroidery, and more. A couple of dozen women and a few men worked at large intricate embroidered panels. If I understood the man there correctly, they were folks with polio and perhaps other disabilities  who were trained to do the work and thus support themselves.

Vinh, or Vinny, is the manager on the dayboat (the English speaking guides and staff all seem to have English nicknames). The manager on our bigger, overnight boat, is nicknamed Elvis, because, we are guessing, of his Elvis like hairstyle. It was a bit incongrous to do tai chi early this morning on the deck, led by Elvis in his white silk pajamas. 

We had tried to find people doing tai chi in Hanoi, which they supposedly do by the lake in the middle of the city, not far from where we are staying. They do it early in the am, from 5 to 6. But we never found them. It was perhaps because the weather was on the cool side. But we did discover lots of people jogging, walking, and doing calisthenics along the lake in the early morning. The difference between the bustle of the daytime city and the quiet of the early morning before dawn was startling.

Hanoi’s daytime traffic is impressive and overwhelming. The vehicles are primarly motor scooters, along with some cars, some bicycles, and trishaws. The trishaws are bicycles with a seat in the front for one or two passengers.

As part of our tour with Smoky, we took trishaws around the old part of the city. We also walked and travelled by car for parts of the tour.  The sidewalks are completely covered between parked scooters, cafes with tiny plastic seats out front, and street vendors of foods of various types. For most of our walking it was impossible to walk on the sidewalks, necessary to walk in the street, with the various modes of traffic with which we were competing.

 It was challenging, especially when necessary to cross the street. But it wasn’t chaotic. Even with all the weaving in and out, there seems to be a level of curtesy.  I would call the drivers assertive, but not aggressive. At a certain point they will yield to you, if you are brave enough to venture out.  But there is no way I would consider driving any vehicle or even on the back of someone’s scooter ( one of the tourist experiences that seems to be popular here, which we opted out of.)

The trishaws easily hold two aduts, but Smoky insisted that we each have our own, for comfort. And we passed a number of groups of tourists, about a dozen or twenty people, each in  their own vehicle. My guess is that it’s to make a little more income for the drivers, which I don’t begrudge them. But we would have preferred to ride together.

 The shops are arranged by types of merchandise, so there are streets where all the shops have knock off clothing, ones with just sheet metal goods and fabrication, ones with all notions like buttons, ribbons, zippers, etc. And interspersed with them are vendors selling produce, dumplings, pho noodles, pieces of fried chicken that they are chopping and frying right on the street. The street level is all shops, and the families sleep upstairs. Many people sleep in a single room. And many of the places have no kitchens, so it is common for the local people to eat on the street.

Smoky took us to places where they made and sold dumplings, ones where they sold only bowls of beef pho, and more.  We discovered at least part of the reason that the chairs are so small and light plastic is that the police patrol regularly. When they are arriving everyone quickly hauls all the furniture inside. And as soon as the cops leave, the furniture goes right out again.

It’s not noticable when you are walking. But in the evening, sitting on the second floor balcony of a small restaurant in a square, we observed the action twice around. It’s also apparently common for the shop owners to pay off the cops to not be disturbed.

Smoky also took us to a famous temple, and the House of Literature, which is a thousand year old temple that was also the first university in Hanoi, and maybe in the country. There are tablets inscribed with the names all the scholars who passed a very rigorous exam in a given year.

At the temples, the shrines with statues of the Buddha and other dieties are also packed with offerings of common place items, like bottles of soda, bananas, cookies, etc. piled in very neat pyramidal stacks. The offerings to the gods are eventually distributed to local poor.

I remember a similar phenomenon in Thailand some years ago. I was with a group of volunteers in a small village where we were teaching English at a school. The teachers brought us on various excursions. One was to a  small temple, to which we brought supplies as offerings, including numerous rolls of toilet paper. It seemed somewhat incongruous to my western mind.

More startling, still, was to see the prior head monk, who had died, in a clear casket embalmed in liquid.

Travel, as they say, is enlightening.

Smoky also brought us to a family home where the matariarch, ninety years old, lived along with younger family members. Her son and his wife were also there and served us tea and snacks, dried fruit and little sesame candies, from a small laquered box.

In front was a shop where they sold silver jewelry made by the family. Through a corrider behind were the family quarters. There was a large bed, where I believe the great grandmother slept. I think there were fourteen people who lived, there rolling out mats to sleep at night. This was, or at least had been, a wealthy family, and there were pieces of furniture that were hundreds of years old. This had been the family home for generations. They served us tea  and we talked a bit about their lives. I wonder how they had lived through the communist times, (and the country still has a communist government,  although it is not readily apparent.)  I have to  remember to ask Smoky. He will pick us back up at the boat tomorrow and bring us to the airport. We will then have another guide at our next destination, Hue.

Our first full night in Hanoi we went to a water puppet show. It is certainly touristic, but I nevertheless enjoyed it very much. The puppeteers are behind a scrim, and hold long horizontal poles to move the puppets, which are in a shallow pool of water. There are also six musicians playing traditional instruments, two of whom sing. There are fish puppets, dragons, a parade, children frolicking , etc.

 Our second day in Hanoi we had to ourselves, and walked for hours around the city, stopping at several destinations. One place we didn’t make it to was Ho Chi Minh’s mausoleum, which I would have liked to have seen. But after our other stops I was exhausted and ready for a nap before  dinner.