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. :)