Vietnam Makes Us Smile

On the main road coming into our village at An Bang Beach, there are two small bridges spanning the sleepy, quiet river tributaries. The first, near the Tra Que organic vegetable farms, is but a lane and a half wide, with a narrow walkway on either side. In the morning light, the images of fishing boats and bamboo fish enclosures, with small houses lining the shores, come alive.

One morning as we approached the bridge on our bicycles, we did so with great caution. A massive tour bus had parked right at the on-ramp, barely off the road. It had disgorged its passengers, who were dutifully lined up over the span of the bridge, backs to the road trying to capture that perfect photograph.  I could not help but giggle, as we pedaled by. I realized that they missed the best shot, on, not over, the bridge. A man came scooting by on his motorbike, arm slung to the rear, balancing a giant porcelain toilet. It tickles us still to see these feats of strength, agility, ingenuity and balance. If you want things moved in Hoi An, you do it by motorbike. Coffins, refrigerators, rebar, groceries, kids, tables, baskets, corrugated roofing, plastic Christmas trees, live kumquat trees, live pigs, dead ducks, vegetables, flowers, stereo speakers. Just when we think we have seen it all, a toilet whizzes by!

If you don’t have a motor bike, you get what you can onto a bicycle, including fishing poles, hoes and shovels, baskets of fruit and vegetables, fowl hanging from the handle bars or plastic piping sticking out both front and back. And if you don’t have a bicycle you use shoulder poles. Most often it is women carrying their burdens by shoulder pole. The load is often as much as fifty pounds. The gait, a rhythmic, bouncing trot, relieves the shoulders from the weight with every step. Our smiles are smiles of awe and admiration for these women, who like their mothers and grandmothers before them, head to market after rising at dawn to pick their produce, bundle their flowers, or make tau hu. Their labors begin before the sun rises and end as the sun goes down and the family dinner has been cooked and served. 

And then there are the moments, if we are open to them, so tranquil and beautiful, that they take our breath away. This morning, as we rode along through a small village into town, we did pause. A neighborhood shrine, which we have passed many times over the years, seemed to have had a facelift. We dismounted and much to our delight, the lotus pond had been cleaned up and blossoms, although out of season, stood amidst the pads. These sacred Buddhist symbols, lush and softly hued, were gentle reminders of the peace we all carry within. The temple too seemed to glow with renewed attention and care. Our smiles in these moments are blissful.

Sometimes the moment is simply being in a narrow lane in the midst of town, where a single old bicycle propped up against an ancient wall is the only thing that we see and for a few heartbeats we are alone and the cacophony of Old Town is suspended.

The best smiles are the ones we share when we have spied something quirky.

"We Born to Service You". The Vietnamese are indeed open, welcoming, helpful and unceasingly cheerful, but I am sure that they don't really mean this!!!

I Live Here

"Toi song o day", I stammered in my incomprehensible Vietnamese. (doy sum oh'o dye...sort of). "I live here," I proclaimed to the market vendor. After 28 days I had finally found some clothes pins but although the sticker thereon said they were 5,000 dong, she was asking for 10,000. 

I pointed to the sticker and repeated "toi song o day," inferring that I should get the local price. 

"No, no, 10,000", she repeated. I tapped on the price tag. Still she gestured, 10,000. I flipped the clothespins back into the display basket and wandered off to get my 4 eggs, one mango and two banh my (small French baguettes).

Then I realized, my god, I had been dickering over a difference of 25 cents on the price of the clothes pins. She wanted 50 cents for the dozen and I was offering a quarter. Sheepishly I went back to the basket of pins and picked up the package. The sticker had been removed. The vendor and her pal across the aisle burst out laughing and so did I. How sweet of them to help me "save face". Sometimes, my Western self, embarrasses me.

Yes, 28 days in An Bang village by the beach and we still have not got the "green light" from all of the parking lot attendants along the strip leading to the beach bistros. Bicycles are prohibited along the beach, so our enterprising neighbours have built parking sheds beside the road. With gusto, cyclists are urged to "park here please", "free parking, buy one water". Every day on our way to breakfast or to set up shop in our bistro office we try, "toi song o day". About five of the women now smile and say "Chao boui sang" or "Good Morning"...the men however still flag us frantically, and even blow whistles to intimidate us and impress us with their official capacity as self-appointed traffic wardens.

Most of the 28 days have been grey, cloudy and very cool. Walks along the beach have been few and on a few nights,  I have crept into bed with all my clothes on....my Canada clothes...fleece and long pants. Sitting on the patio in the evening has been a time to wrap up.

Our presence in this village allows us to be part of all that transpires in the community; funerals, blessings of the fishing fleet and children's concerts. One evening we ventured down to the corner where the local kindergarten was having a celebration in the village square. All day, workmen laboured installing a temporary stage and huge sound system. When we arrived the music was already thunderous and the little mites from the nursery school were being ushered onto the stage. Decked out in their best interpretation of rock stars they hovered stage left until it was their turn to take stage centre. The girls seemed to have all the moves figured out, pushing the boys around. 

It was cute but also disconcerting. As the music pounded, these tiny people wiggled and gyrated, the girls coy, the boys "cool" and we wondered about the messages that they were being given. Teasing, taunting, flirtatious...at four years old!

We choose more sedate celebrations with the family. Sunday brunch at a hotel which serves a wide array of Western and Asian dishes. We wander through the line and pick as many delicacies as we want, eating too much, but enjoying a peaceful time together. Here we are last Sunday with Bruce's granddaughter Keryn.

Surely the best indicators that we live here are our bike rides on the lanes of our village with the grandsons Gao and Sesame.

"Trung Toi Song Oday"  We live here.

Well Hello

This morning I emerged from the shower into the one main room of our little house to dry off and dress. There, standing right on our deck, was a strange man. "Oops," I yelped. "Could you see what that man wants please, Bruce?" His head was down at the computer keyboard, so busily writing away at his new novel that he had not noticed our visitor.

"Xin chao," greeted Bruce. "Hello, hello".

"Xin chao," said the man, helping himself to a chair, puffing away on a cigarette. He seemed very unperturbed that there was a very nervous, fat, white woman in a black brassiere and little else scurrying for cover five feet away.

As I quickly dressed our unexpected visitor sat nonchalantly smoking while gazing out at our garden.

By the time that I was decent enough to go out to investigate Mr. Somebody had wandered back through a break in the hedge to the house next door. He must have assumed that the whole neighbourhood was invited to the ancestor worship that was going on or perhaps our chairs simply looked more comfortable.

The patriarch of the family next door died one year ago and, following tradition, there will celebrations and worship for his soul for another year. His widow is an amazing 98 years old and because her son is our landlord, she comes over every morning to tend our lawn. I am in awe of her agility and a little ashamed that I am often scanning the Net whilst she labours.

The other day walking through the lane beside the Reaching Out Tea House on our way to the craft shop I heard a little voice, "Hello, Hello".  Looking down, I saw the sweetest small boy waving vigorously. I waved and returned his "hello", took his hand and off we strolled. No shyness, no worries. My fantasy of taking home a Vietnamese child was taking shape! Out came Bruce's camera but the boy's father appeared out of nowhere, also with a camera in hand.

"Hello, hello, you want tau hu?" You bet we did! This delicious tofu and ginger treat is peddled on the streets and at the beach. The vendor carries all of her supplies, the fresh tofu, the sugary sauce and the ginger, the bowls and spoons for serving, in baskets on her shoulder poles. She serves the tau hu and then waits discreetly nearby while we slurp it down.

Hiep, her husband and daughter Su My stood on our doorstep. "Hello, Hello. We come to invite you to our house. I will cook cau lau. You come at 7 am for breakfast...7 am western time....that mean on time...Vietnamese 7 am is mebbe 8 o'clock."

Cao Lau (cow and low as in "cow") is a Hoi An specialty. The noodles are thick and the broth is made with water from wells known for their purity.

We knew that this was an honour and off we went the next morning....arriving "just a little bit late". While Su My still slept under a netting at my elbow, we were served the soup in the traditional way. As both Bruce and I rolled over and groaned to a standing position, Hiep said, "Sorry, I know that it is hard for you to sit like Vietnamese, but I wanted you to do it...part of being Vietnamese and enjoying our meals."

The grimace on Bruce's face shows how much he loved sitting on the floor!!!

"Hello, Ong, Ba you there? Are you ready for your Vietnamese lesson?" Grandson Sesame hollers over the fence after school each day to see if we are up for the challenge of improving our Vietnamese vocabulary. Sesame is a patient and encouraging teacher and is able to help us get our tongues around the difficult sounds.

So many "Hello's". Even toddlers who are speaking their first words offer a "heh yo" as we ride by on our bicycles through the village. A welcoming and warm people these Vietnamese.

Celebrating Tet

Tet dawned cool, cloudy and windy. Grey sky, pewter roiling sea, the Cham Islands barely visible on the horizon. It has been so cold that we are still wearing our airplane clothes and last night I slid into bed with all my clothes on. Up north the Vietnamese are really suffering in close-to-freezing temperatures. Village kids have no shoes or jackets, even in Hanoi there is no central heating.

Undeterred by the chill, our little family ventured over to La Plage for a breakfast of bacon and eggs on Tet morning. Nhan, the owner, was so happy to see us all, even though the party crowd at the bar in her seaside bistro kept her busy until 2am serving drinks and food to welcome the New Year the previous night. Bruce and I had been to Ly's house at 6:30am to be her first "lucky" visitors and customers and after breakfast we were all heading downtown to bless and open the Reaching Out shop and tea house.

At the beach bistro, Lucky the dog and a new litter of kittens, as well as a whacky game of pool, kept the boys occupied until breakfast was ready. Quyen got into the kitchen to help Nhan cook and serve!

Preparations got into full swing a couple of days ago, shopping, cleaning, and cooking special traditional Tet items.

Our landlord harvested the betel nuts which were growing along our fence. The betel nuts have special significance on the shrines and altars set up to worship the ancestors and pray for luck, good fortune, wealth and happiness in the coming year.

Prayer flags have appeared at local shrines and pagodas and even modes of transportation are blessed with fruit and flower offerings and burning incense on the grill. Cigarettes are often gifts at the altars, some are simply scattered in the street, along with candy.

Visiting the pagoda is a ritual also followed on the day of Tet where once again ancestors are venerated and those of the Buddhist faith pray, chant and offer donations. In return the monks will invoke a blessing or even predict a "fortune" for the coming year.

I hover close to this statue of Quan Am, Lady Buddha the bodhisattva of compassion.

With flowers adorning the temples, pagodas and shrines, they become even more stunning works of art. The altar fronts, even in small local shrines, are often elaborately painted

But best of all are the children's festive costumes, whether traditional or "high fashion".

Our Gao wore a yellow ao dai made by Quyen. The three brothers in matching ao dai were pretty spiff and overshadowed their little sister in red silk. Nothing though, topped the fashionista in the white tulle, knitted bolero and UGG's on her feet.

Not to be outdone the kids on our road were also sporting some pretty fabulous dresses. We spotted these two charmers across the road. I love the little one who absolutely would not look at the camera until she had safely tucked the "lucky" money envelope which I had given her into her rather large purse. The Mickey Mouse jacket and Hello Kitty hand bag worn by her sister over her ao dai also made me smile.

And everyone has to have a picture of the family at the shrine, including us of course!!!

Binh, Quyen and the boys were then off to see their parents and in-laws for a full day of visiting. We could come home for a snooze and later a bike ride. We had had enough by 10 am!!

Our first week here has sped by. We are hoping for an improvement in the weather but the coolness has kept the mosquitoes away AND the tourists from the beach.

All Settled in at An Bang Beach, Hoi An, Vietnam

Today is Saturday. We arrived late Wednesday afternoon and after a couple of days settling in we feel very much at home at An Bang beach, our "other" home.

This year we are staying in a nice little house right next door to our Vietnamese family. Quyen put in a lot of effort to make our place comfortable and cosy.

About one hundred yards away, over a sand dune, the ocean crashes ashore. Sand is drifting into the lane outside our gate. It is unusually windy, cool, cloudy and occasionally rainy; so unlike our stay here in September and October when the heat and humidity almost knocked us over.

We have a place to sleep, a place to cook, a place to shower and even a washing machine..how civilized.

Tet, the celebration of Lunar New Year is two days away so there are busy frantic crowds at all the markets. Motor bikes are zooming to and fro, laden with families, pigs, vegetables, kumquat trees and big bags of paper clothing to be burned at the ancestral alter. The banks are closed, many restaurants and shops have shut for the holiday and food is being prepared in advance. This morning while we visited over freshly ground and brewed coffee, Quyen prepared a savoury pate, which will be refrigerated for two days, then sliced with other delicacies.

Breakfast this morning in the village was bun tau (we think!)....vermicelli noodles in a steaming broth with beef and greens, flavoured with limes, peppers, garlic and vinegar ( these you add yourself so the heat is just right!)

Every year it gets harder and harder to get down onto and up from the little plastic stools which are ubiquitous. We are often the entertainment, but our hosts are kind and solicitous. We are taught through charades how to season and eat their offerings. The best part though is that now we are beginning to be treated like "locals" and sometimes left to our own devices....but it means that we get local prices, as little as two dollars for BOTH of us!!

Marketing can still be a challenge; a challenge that I love but which Bruce finds difficult. I love the theatre of the hunt, the bargaining and the elation when it all comes together. If one vendor does not have what we are looking for, she will run off to a neighbouring stall for you and there is great celebration when we finally understand each other and agree on a price. Deals on small things like light bulbs, tea towels and hangers can take a good 20 minutes to finalize. We have the time!!!

Tet rituals are numerous and often have to do with ensuring luck and good fortune for the coming year. So far we are on tap to bring "double lucky" to the home and prospects for Ly, a young woman whom we met in the neighbourhood on our last two visits. Bruce is mad about her daughter Su My who is two and a real sweetie. Ly sells trinkets at the beach during the warmer weather when tourists abound. However in this stormy cool weather Ly realizes that her chances are slim making a sale on the first day of the year, before 7am. So guess who will be cycling over to her house first thing Tet morning. The belief is that the two hours between 5 and 7am are auspicious. 

After that we will head into town so that we can be the first customers at Reaching Out when they open at 9am.

My job now is to fill envelopes with "lucky money" for little children. The money has to be crisp and new. Thank goodness I remembered to ask Quyen to get me the 20,000 VDN notes before the banks closed for the holiday.

Sweet moments follow one after the other. We are happy!

A Few Answers, More Questions

The days have been lazily drifting by here on Kauai. Lots of sun shine and often very high surf which has made for some dramatic scenery. However at Anahola Beach the other day, things were placid and  we were able to be beach bums, each in our own way, Bruce in a chair reading and Gail and I paddling in the warm, healing ocean.

We returned to a favourite place, the grotto at the old stone dam on the Wai Koa trail one late afternoon. A pleasant time to walk, the angle of the setting sun highlighting the gnarled, thick bark of the trees and  the ginger and hibiscus blooms.

We love this spot...so serene and contemplative, although this time we shared the place with three nubile young maidens and their families. The girls knew exactly where they were headed...up above the dam to a rope swing from which they plunged into the pond. I almost stripped down to join them but as with many things fanciful, I needed to be sensible. My hip and knee have been very sore. The giant knee brace you can see poking through my trousers has helped.

Sister Rosemary in Kenora, Ontario has found the name of the hedge that I pictured on my last blog. Clever woman found it on the Honolulu Zoo-Botanical Gardens website, which is really well done.

http://www.honoluluzoo.org/gardens.html

RED LEAF HAU
Hibiscus tiliaceus
Hau has a nutritious leaf and flower. It makes excellent mulch and was favored for old Hawaiian Lo‘i kalo (taro patches) The Hawaiians had many many uses for hau: buds are medicinal and were taken as an aid to childbirth, as well as a laxative. The leaves make great desert plates at an elegant luau (and you can compost them into the garden when the feast is pau). The wood is soft lightweight and easily carved. Net floats, ama or canoe outriggers, puppets and various fishing tools were made from hau. The bark is stringy and fibrous and was used for lashing and cordage. Hau flowers can tell you what time of day it is: The yellow, hibiscus like flowers of hau open clear yellow in the morning. By midday they turn orange and at the end of the day they are red. The red flowers drop to the ground in a beautiful display the next morning.

So lovely to know the name of this flowering beauty.


Today's conversation in the grocery store.

I waited at the "service" counter to pay for Bruce's newspaper. As the man in front of me paid and was moving off, a local Hawaiian man leaned over the divider next to the clerk and said,

"Dis what you wan?" He held a piece of fiber in his hand.

The clerk, rather dismayed replied, "You wait, I busy wid dis customer heeah"

"Oh no", said I, "I am really interested. Is that coconut fiber"

"Ya, dats it", said the native holding the rough looking swatch, sort of like this.

"What is it used for?", I asked

"We gonna make hula costumes for the keiki (kids), big festival comin' up," answered Mrs Cashier who wore a plumeria blossom behind one ear.

"Looks rather scratchy", I said, "What part of the costume is made of this fiber"

"I dunno, neva done this beefoah....big job"

"How many keiki?", butted in the man. "we gonna ruin a lotta trees doin' this and the Hawaiians will not like dat"

"I dunno" chimed in the cashier, "lotta kids mebbe a hunnert"

I was loving this exchange and did not want it to finish! 

"How big dose kids?" asked the gentleman clutching the fabric.

"Well, some as old as 12 years", replied the clerk.

"Oh,oh, dem kids get pretty big by 12 years old, we gunna need to harm a lotta trees...not good"

This was so much fun, watching these two try to figure out how they were going to get enough coconut finer to clothe 100 children in costumes of an as yet unknown design.

I bid them both my "Aloha" and scurried home to look up; coconut finer, keiki hula, coconut fibre hula costumes to see what they were up against. After plowing through hundreds of pictures ( mostly of young women with coconuts brassieres and articles about hula traditions), I am no further ahead on what the scratchy bits of fiber are going to be used for. My two friends are in for a lot of work, because I think the fibers need to be treated, carded etc. And the kids below are wearing what we would call grass skirts.

In the past we have been lucky enough to catch the kids at their hula lessons. They are sweet.

And so the sun sets on another delicious Kauai day. We did have to give the cockroach a decent burial, as his little glass cage seemed to deny him enough oxygen.

Next chapter will probably be after our arrival in Hoi An, Vietnam.