Threshing Rice

This Wednesday I returned to Mai Chau for one final trip, mostly with the intent of catching a glimpse of the village during harvest season. I visit so often due to the sleepy nature of the place, and the fact that all the locals can always be seen sitting around their homes/shops, staring intently at the passerby, and willingly participating in conversation when given the chance. This time, the whole atmosphere was completely different. The streets and houses were abandoned (everyone was working in the fields), with the exception of an occasional pair of farmers pushing a cart of rice stalks down the road. I had been especially waiting for this opportunity to get involved in the actual farming of rice, so I ventured over to a local friend's stilt house on the other side of the village (with a couple tourists in tow... the usual tour guide Flip was pretty ill so I took the reigns for the day). We arrived, ready with conical hats in place, to follow Xuan out into her rice paddy. The start of the walk towards the rice paddy caused a bit of difficulty for some of the tourists I had brought along; 3 bamboo stalks were placed side-by-side in the effort to function as a bridge over a creek. Xuan and myself took our shoes off, used our toes to grip the bamboo, and trotted to the other side. I had become somewhat used to this sort of thing, so I had forgotten that this obstacle could strike fear into the heart of those not so comfortable around water. A couple of the tourists managed to make it across okay, albeit slowly, but the last girl made it halfway before being hit with a fit of shaking and sobbing. A very helpful neighbor waltzed by toting a large bamboo pole at just the right moment, and was able to walk over and poke the stick in her direction to give her a bit of stability. After crossing the water, we left our sandals on the bank and continued to follow Xuan on the raised, grassy paths between the paddies. There had been some rain the night before, so the usual solid ground had given way to pits of mud. I had seen this one coming, and dressed accordingly, prepared for mud to ruin anything I was wearing. I guess I didn't give a clear enough explanation of the possibility of getting dirty, so some of the girls were not quite pleased by the final result of their clothes. Nevertheless, the girls who were not so keen on getting even more muddy, sat aside and watched as Xuan prepared myself and 2 other girls to thresh the rice. We each tied a string around our waists, and wrapped a bundle of thin bamboo strands into the string (these would then be used to tie each bundle of rice stalks). I was given a small sickle, and took my first step into the rice paddy. I sank into the mud immediately and had it up to my shins. I did my best to ignore the scuttling spiders and other muddy/water creatures and focus on the job at hand. I had a good time slashing at the stalks of rice, and even became quite adept at stowing the sickle under my arm while tying the rice stalks together with my other hand. I kept impressing myself with my "natural farming ability" until it came time to actually move. Each step in the paddy required a tremendous amount of effort; I had to fight the mud suctioning my foot into the ground, and then find a suitable location for my next footstep between stalks of rice (I was afraid of ruining Xuan's harvest). I was threshing rice for about 20 minutes and managed to cut and tie around 20 bundles before I realized how sticky and hot I had become. I was so engulfed in what I was doing that I hadn't noticed the sweat dripping off my nose (or even the fact that I had dropped my nose piercing into the mud). Xuan called us in around this time, and I squished and squooshed my way back to the grassy path. I felt like a true farmer, covered in mud up to my knees, donning a frayed conical hat, and brandishing a sickle.... then it occurred to me that I was dead tired... after only 20 minutes. After making it back across the bamboo "bridge" and cleaning myself in the crystal clear, cold water pumped from a well, I began to reflect on what an intense life these rice farmers live. Xuan had been kind enough to let us leave our rice stalk bundles on the field, rather than put them in a basket and transport them back to her house, which I was completely thankful for. I did some math, and it turns out that one rice stalk bundle is equivalent to half a small bowl of cooked rice... which equals a lot of work for such a little bit of rice! I had always imagined how hard the farming life for these people must be, but after finally having gotten a taste of it (however limited), my respect for these people and their lifestyle reached new heights. These Vietnamese farmers know the true definition of hard work, and rather than be bitter about it, seem to be some of the happiest people I have ever encountered. Definitely something to think about....

On a slightly related note- I am leaving tomorrow morning for my final, big trip before my return to the United States. Son and I are taking a motorcycle down the coast of Vietnam, stopping along beaches, old architectural sites (upon my persistence, of course), and jungle trails before meeting up with friends at Jungle Beach Resort in Nha Trang. I'm really excited about this inevitable adventure, only a tad bit nervous about the possible dangers, and completely ready to soak up as much of the country as I can. I should be on the road for around 3 weeks, and will try to get a post or two up if I'm in a place with a computer. I know this trip is going to be long, going to be intense, and going to be tiring, but I can't wait to get on with the challenge. I am ready to wholly commit myself to this journey, and hope to come back with a refreshed outlook on life. :)

Fabric Market and Seriously Cheap Seafood

This Sunday, a couple friends and I finally solidified our plan to drive to the fabric market located outside Hanoi. We boarded our motorbikes, donned our sunglasses, and started the 30km drive out to the market. There are numerous fabric markets within the city, but we had been informed that the markets outside the city are cheaper and offer a greater variety. Since I'm leaving Vietnam relatively soon, I decided this was the opportune time to pick up some material to get some quality Vietnamese tailoring done. So, off we went, driving across the famous bridge that was built by the French (and withstood all the bombing during the Vietnam War, so it is quite a point of pride for the city), and continued driving straight until the street began to narrow, the houses grew less numerous, and farm plots came into view. The fact that you can reach farming areas within 30 minutes of driving is one of the reasons why I prefer Hanoi to Saigon; it takes at least 2 hours to even get a glimpse of a rice paddy when driving out of Saigon, since the sprawl is just so massive. We continued our drive down a mostly-paved road (a real treat compared to your typical countryside street) and found ourselves surrounded by growing corn, rice, beans, and many other vegetables too numerous to name. I was beginning to doubt that we were even headed towards a market when a slew of bright colors came into view. Instead of being situated like a traditional Vietnamese market, with stalls clustered around one central area, this fabric market abruptly began with shops on either side of the road, spanning down the street as far as the eye could see. We parked our bikes, and started to walk along the road, causing quite a scene with the locals, since they hardly get foreigners this far out of the city. The variety of colors and materials was a bit overwhelming, and we found ourselves stopping every 2 minutes, with shop keepers beckoning us over to feel the material and insist that no other shop could rival such quality. When we began bargaining in Vietnamese, the all too familiar look of shock followed, then big smiles and large price cuts. We stumbled upon some material that featured every single Super Mario character that ever appeared in the game, so I obviously picked up a couple meters of this to make a dress.... who wouldn't want a Super Mario dress?? All in all, we spent hours browsing the stalls, despite the stifling heat, and we left satisfied... our brains swimming with potential clothing designs (I left with enough material for two skirts and a dress, all for under 10 dollars).

Despite the fact that we were all sweaty, we opted to go out for some street food. We arrived to a famous seafood spot located down the street from my house, where they offer a huge array of shell fish, served "southern style". This included crab legs in tamarind sauce, spicy grilled squid, diced giant snails in a sweet glaze, clams steamed in a lemongrass broth, and oysters served with peanuts and shallots (note pictures below). My Vietnamese friends ordered a fetus duck egg, which I neglected to try, since I've had it in the past, and am not a fan of crunchy, half-formed animals. According to them, it is quite the tasty treat, but I have a feeling that this is one Vietnamese cuisine that will simply not grow on me. Overall, we ate a huuuuge amount of seafood, and ended up spending 5 dollars each. I've been here for almost 2 years now, and the cheapness of everything still never ceases to amaze me. I think that upon return home, the price of food and drink will be the biggest adjustment for me to make.

The Junk Jeep Adventure

This Thursday, myself and 4 of my closest friends in Hanoi began our trip to the Northernmost area in Vietnam. Flip runs a tour company with a 26 year old Vietnamese guy named Manh, who knows how to drive and had done this trip before, so we decided to save ourselves money and use the company jeep and neglect to hire either a driver or a tour guide. When the jeep pulled up outside my alley, we all began to get a bit nervous... the thing was a wreck. Here is the initial list of jeep ailments before the trip even began:

- No airconditioning

- Windows unable to move up or down (one stuck open, the other stuck mostly closed)

- Dashboard held together with tape

- Driver's seat broken, and slanted to one side

- No seat belts

- Non-functioning windshield wipers

- External damage fixed with duct tape

... and these were the obvious things. I don't know much about car engines, but the creaking noises and loud bangs from under the hood were enough proof that the car was equally as shoddy on the inside. Nevertheless, we piled inside, with no idea how far the jeep would get... or if it would even make the 10+ hours to the border at all. About 2 hours into our trip,

some alarming clanging noises took our attention off the lovely scenery and onto the roadside in hopes that we would find an auto garage. We managed to pull into a deserted garage, and all stood around for a while, hoping someone would show up. Eventually, the mechanic appeared (his hair only half cut, so we must have interrupted his barber trip), and he started to take a look at the car. Manh gave us warning that it would take some time, so we crossed the street and headed to a bia hoi, where we proceeded to sit around, enjoy some cold beer, and take in the scenery of the countryside. When we returned the garage, the mechanic had already replaced one tire, and could be seen underneath the jeep banging away at the undercarriage. He soon came back with a flame torch, and burnt off a piece of metal, the metal which he claimed was making the clanging sound. We all were pretty satisfied with his work at this point, paid him 5 dollars for labor, and got back in the car to start the trip again. We made it 30 minutes before the banging sound returned, so we stopped off in another small village in the mountains and had a second mechanic take a look. This one surmised that the previous mechanic was an idiot, and only made the car worse. So once again, we left Manh to deal with the car while we moseyed down the street to find another bia hoi; we had some cold beers, chatted with some locals, turned away a homeless man trying to get a ride, and once the sun started to set, headed back towards the jeep. This time, Manh seemed very pleased, and informed us all that the new mechanic was a genius (which I had originally doubted given his aesthetic), and the jeep was as good as new. All of us took this information with a grain of salt, but piled back in anyway, prepared for the final 3 hour drive to reach the first destination, Ba Be Lake. The jeep continued to choke and groan as we circled up tiny roads that twisted and turned around mountain curves. The road conditions were not so wonderful, so we were being thrown about the jeep, but were really enjoying ourselves given our two previous bia hoi sessions. With over an hour to go, we heard a tell-tale "thump-thwack" coming from the front tire, and pulled over for an inspection. Sure enough, a sharp rock was stuck in the tire, and you could even hear the air rushing out from the puncture. It was pitch dark, so we all sat around enjoying the stars, while a local family came out of their hut to help hold flashlights while Manh was changing the tire. Everyone was in a very fine mood by this point, since we all agreed that the excitement level of the journey was multiplied by the jeep's obvious troubles. It made the whole travel experience completely unpredictable, and we were well on our way to a great adventure.

After the tire was replaced, we arrived at a communal stilt house overlooking Ba Be Lake

around 9:30 pm. We sat down to some late dinner, tried to ignore the massive tropical bugs, then laid down two to a mattress pad underneath mosquito nets. That night, an incredible thunder storm hit, which kept me awake with the loudest thunder peals I have ever heard (the stilt house shook with each clap). The rain was intense, and had me worried about the conditions for driving and hiking the next day. We woke up, brushed dead bugs out of the "beds", and had an egg over noodles before proceeding to the lake. We all hopped on a small, rickety boat, and spent the next four hours taking in the views of Ba Be Lake.

The water was incredibly blue, and reflected the

amazing greenery of the lush mountains all

around us. The trees were some of the largest and greenest I'd ever seen, and we all agreed that we felt were boating through Jurassic Park... the

place seemed untouched for thousands of years. The weather was slightly overcast, and grew

increasingly more humid and wet when we turned off into an alcove of mountains. We went through a small channel and arrived to a tiny village on the shore of the lake. We got off there, and started our hike to see some waterfalls, enjoying the misty rain, which made the experience seem all the more tropical. Everything was looking okay, until we hit the part of the trail that was completely flooded over by the rushing water that resulted from the storm the night before. Two other tourists were in front of us, and haltingly looked around for another option,

glancing down at their expensive hiking shoes, and back at the flowing, muddy water. We were all equipped in simple

sandals, so we pushed through and hiked the path in sandals, enjoying the cool water that was up to our shins.

We reached the waterfall, snapped some pictures, and decided it was time for a swim, so we headed back to the boat. The boat took us a to a little island, which we used to jump off into the cool waters of the lake. After we got our swimming in, we returned to the stilt house and got back into our jeep, which we began to call the Jurassic Park Jeep at this point, given the fact that it looked exactly like the one from the movies, and it was driving us through terrain and environments that seemed hand-picked right out of the films.

Just as we were circling the lake and heading up a steep pass towards our next destination, the gear shift snapped in two. So now, we were halfway up a very intense incline, with the shifter sitting there in 2 parts. Manh, who continually proved himself the most resourceful one of us, quickly ripped the covering away, and began to drive using the sharp-edged remainder of the shifter. We gave him a round of applause, and began the climb again. We stopped an hour later for lunch, while Manh went out to get the gear shift repaired. After the Jurassic Jeep had been fixed, again, we got back on the road. 4 hours later we reached our next destination, Cao Bang city, just 80 km south of the border of China. The city was pretty dead, but we managed to befriend some local security guards, who insisted on giving us shots of their homemade rice wine (this happens a lot...) and kept making cheers to our wisdom, which we all though slightly strange but toasted to nonetheless. After an early and delicious breakfast, we were driving through the mountain passes on a perfectly sunny day. The roads were narrow, unpaved, and even more dangerous given the shipping traffic coming through China. There were hundreds of

gigantic, load-carrying trucks bringing goods from China, and they all seemed to get stuck on

every curved incline and muddy road. It all struck me as slightly stupid, since these roads were barely navigable with a Jurassic Jeep, let alone a huge freight truck. By far, this part of the drive was the most scenic yet. Colossal limestone mountains covered in the most obscene green of Vietnamese flora surrounded us in all directions. Farmers were all out in the fields transplanting their rice, so we got to see a lot of tiny farming villages in action. When we reached Ban Gioc waterfalls, a hush came over the jeep, as we all literally had lost our breath with the beauty of this place. Two waterfalls, side-by-side, represented the border of China.

Abandoning all sense of responsibility, we grabbed our towels and ran towards the water (meaning we had forgotten all the sunscreen). The day was hot, humid, and incredibly sunny; swimming in the cool blue of the waterfall and exploring the moist caves had us ignoring the sharp tingle of impending sunburn. After enjoying a swim and having a waterfall-side picnic of hot mango slices, we headed to the other waterfall belonging to China, boarded a bamboo boat, and drove right up alongside the falling water, enjoying the mist and the view.

We then set a precedent and climbed up one of the rocks for a group picture (you are not allowed to climb or swim at this waterfall, but we felt it necessary and ignored the complaints of our boat driver). We were all so in awe of the natural beauty of this place that we sat around on the boat, expressed our joy in our current situation, and just continued to stare into the waterfalls for another hour. Manh was finally able to pull us away from Ban Gioc and got us into the jeep, where we excitedly chatted of our experience for the next 3 hours to get to our sleeping quarters for the night. This was our last night on the road, so we decided to take full advantage of the karaoke rooms downstairs; Anneliese and Hilary were initially against the idea of karaoke, but after some Spice Girls, they got into the action. We had some pretty rousing renditions of Boney M's "Rasputin" (for some reason, a HUGE hit in Vietnam), and Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire". By the time we were half-way through singing "Sweet Home Alabama", the Nha Nghi owner came down and unplugged the television and karaoke, prompting us to go to bed. We got to our room which hosted a large 3-D picture of a scantily clad Western woman from the 80's (in hindsight, I wish I had gotten a picture of it to further prove my point of how absurd it was). Right before we went to sleep, we had to usher a gigantic tropical flying bug off of Lien's bag and outside of the room. This black, winged creature was the size of my hand, and boasted large, red pincers. If I hadn't consumed so much beer, I would definitely had fled the room screaming, but I guess I had a little bit of liquid courage and pushed it out of the room with the back of my sandal. After the bug had been ushered out, we all had a great sleep, and woke up to another beautiful day. We were on the road early, and opted to get breakfast in some random place in a village about an hour away from Don Khe, where we had stayed the previous night. We all enjoyed a bowl of pho vit (pho noodles in broth with roasted duck... amazing!!!) and then continued our drive up to Lang Son, a town with a big market on the border of China. We were all hoping to buy some ridiculous Chinese products, but the closest I got was a pair of shoes and some bracelets. The most rewarding thing about this stop was the lunch of Banh Cuon (rice pancake rolled around fried onion) and grilled pork. We enjoyed some Chinese beer, which was really the most Chinese thing about the place, and then the girls stopped to go to the bathroom before we left for Hanoi. The bathroom was a stick hut at the end of a water buffalo grazing field; I had to weave through water buffalo, trying to avoid the larger males that tend to charge, to make it to the toilet. Well, toilet is too kind of a word, it was more of a hole in the ground with two planks over the top, with a box of ash nearby to throw in afterwards. I had never seen ash used to keep the smell down, but it did a fine job. A "bathroom" we had used on the side of the road earlier was constructed the same way, but had no ash, and the smell was enough to make me decide to skip out on using a bathroom for another 3 hours.

We got back on the road as a huge storm cloud rounded the corner of a mountain. This had us a bit worried, given the lack of windshield wipers and of window functioning. Manh, as ever impressive, continued driving, even though the storm had hit and visibility was next to nothing. When the storm had passed, and we were all a bit wet, he went outside, brushed the windshield off with his hand, and continued on our way. We drove through the rest of the day, and reached Hanoi by dinner time, all getting back to our houses before the sky opened up and let out another gigantic tropical storm. We all congratulated each other on surviving the trip, gave many thanks to Manh's excellent driving skills, and made conjectures on the lifespan of the Jurassic Park Jeep. Honestly, it was the best trip I've ever taken, and will never forget just how amazingly beautiful Vietnam can be.

Linh's Wedding and CAMA!

This past week has been quite busy for me, and now that I am returning to the states in less than a month, I don't plan on slowing down!

First off- I attended the wedding of one of my closest friends, Le Thuy Linh. Although she and her French-Canadian husband are already married on paper (foreigners are only allowed to live with a Vietnamese person if they are officially married in the eyes of the government), they had the wedding ceremony on Thursday. Since Gabriel didn't have any family come to Hanoi for the wedding (they are having a second wedding in Canada next month), I went to the pre-wedding family party to give him at least one English person to talk to. I arrived at 9am to Linh'smother's house, where I sat around with some very ancient family members and attempted to socialize in Vietnamese. This was a complete disaster, since the older generation seems touse a more formal, dated version of the language, and we couldn't understand anything the other was saying (this happens to me with really old Vietnamese people all the time). So, I proceeded to sit around, have copious amounts of tea poured for me, and wait for Linh and Gabe to make their entrance. Finally, Gabe and Linh descended down the stairs through a shower of confetti (I only managed to get all the stuff out of my hair two days later), and made their rounds greeting the family members. Gabe was really relieved to have me there, as I could tell he was pretty stressed having all these old women talking to him in Vietnamese at the same time.

Per tradition, Gabe served tea to the mother andgrandmothers, while Linh catered to the men. Linh also did some translating for her grandma, who was begging Gabe to "be fertile and have a lot of children". To this, he replied by downing an entire cup of tea and scalding his mouth. We made our move to the wedding "limo", which was actually just a black sedan covered with flowers. I carried Linh's train behind her, trying to keep it off the dusty roads, and I got blasted with another confetti canon in the process. When we got to the hotel, it was business as usual. Linh and Gabriel took their posts underneath the balloon archway, and took pictures with every single arriving guest. I stood around with some friends to chuckle at Gabe, who seemed more awkward than ever posing with all these Vietnamese families (he is a very tall guy...).Aftereveryone arrived, the wedding proceeded like every other Vietnamese wedding I have been to: the couple are declared married by an MC on stage, they pour champagne into a fountain of glasses filled with dry ice, and smile and nod for more pictures. The guests spend this whole time eating a traditional wedding meal which consists of chicken, fried shrimp, mushroom/egg soup, fried fish, beef, sauteed veggies, and creme caramel. I always find it strange that during the "ceremony" up on stage, all the guests are eating, chatting, and drinking. The couple then made their rounds with decorated glasses, toasting each table. By the time Linh and Gabe arrived at our foreigner table (they had placed us at a table in the back, which seems to happen at every wedding I've been to) they both seemed ready to call it day. An hour after the wedding began, the hall was almost empty. Guests pretty much come to weddings for the free meal and drinks, then leave. I hung around a bit longer to get some more time with Linh, but soonenough she had some more family obligations and I headed home around 1pm. All in all, very enjoyable, but very fast-paced.

Two days later, the CAMA International Music Festival hit Hanoi. I had attended last year and had an amazing time, so I naturally planned to go again this time around. A bunch of my friends got together for some bun cha, then walked over to the American Club (a big outdoor venue) at 1pm to take in the day. I had prepared myself with lots of sunscreen (a mistake I had learned from last year) and very light, breathable clothes. Luckily, they had set up a giant tent to help with the sun factor, and by the time evening rolled around, the multi-colored lights reflecting off the white tent made for a very convincing festival experience. The music during the day was great, and we all sat around enjoying fruit juices, good food, and good company. CAMA is a big event for the expat population, showcasing music from all over the world, so literally every foreigner friend of mine in Hanoi was there. As the night wore on, the music got very heavy-metal, which is, in my opinion, not the most enjoyable party music, but given the crowd, the drinks(they had Coors Light, which cannot be found on a normal basis) and the food, I hung around until it was over. The music last year was WAY better, so that was a bit disappointing forme, but I had a blast hanging with my friends, which left me quite satisfied.

(CAMA photos credit of Aidan Dockery, check out more of his work here)

This evening, I am attending a Bubble Show; the most famous bubble performing artist is in Hanoi for a couple days, and I feel I would be cheating myself if I didn't go. He holds a bunch of world records for biggest bubble, most consecutive bubbles, and so on and so forth. Honestly, I don't know how many things you can do with bubbles, but a friend of mine went to the show already and said it involved lasers, audience participation, and overall, was an extraordinary experience. So, I'll let you know how that goes. :)