Hue and Hoi An

If Laos is beauty then Vietnam is charm.

Laos is like the very pretty, very quiet, very shy girl who sits in the back of the class with her head bent over so that her hair covers her face.  Vietnam is like the slightly less pretty girl who has loads of personality and is the center of attention.

Vietnam has beauty, charm, great food and coffee.  Oh, my God! The coffee!  The coffee here is so rich, tasty and smooth it almost seems like a different drink from home.  Starbuck’s coffee is bad but compared to Vietnamese coffee it is used motor oil.  People in our group who normally drink their coffee with milk and sugar are drinking it black.  I am in heaven.

working the rice fields

The vendors here are a little aggressive.  They don’t seem to understand the word “No”.  They persist in trying to sell you something saying things like: “Give you special deal” or “Happy Hour!” and they almost thrust their junk into your hands.  I am not sure how successful that tactic is because all it does is makes you cranky at them.  At one point a lady was being aggressive and I said “No English!”   She left.  Aha!  A successful counter tactic!  So, at the beach, when this lady came up to me and said “Where you from?” I, being a smart-ass, started talking to her in Irish Gaelic.  To my chagrin she answered me in Irish Gaelic!  Nobody knows Irish Gaelic except this one little uneducated poor Vietnamese vendor and me.  Karma!

At this same beach one of the vendors pointed to the group of us (Tony, Norbert, myself and Telen) and said “family?”  Smart Ass Rand said “Yes “ and pointed at Telen and said “Wife” and pointed at the other two guys and said “Husband, husband” and she pointed at me and said “Buddha”!  Karma once again!

In Hue at one of the restaurants we were giving our order to the waitress whose name was “Fa”.  She asked us where we were from and we started chatting with her.  She spent almost an hour with us chatting, telling jokes and riddles, and exchanging magic tricks.  Meanwhile a choir from the Philippines who was sitting on the steps of the Hotel across the street awaiting their bus decided to practice their Christmas Carols.  So we got a compete night’s entertainment for about 50,000 dhong (roughly $3.00 Canadian) 

We went out to dinner at a family run restaurant last night. There were scooters, bicycles and pedestrians using alley right behind your back as you sat eating.  The part of the kitchen where they made the Vietnamese Crepes was right beside us on the street. Canadian Health inspectors would be apoplectic!  The interesting thing about this restaurant was the way the menu was done.  It was a fixed menu and as soon as our bums hit the chairs the food hit the table.  There were about ten people in our group and there were three (or sometimes four) waitresses showing us how to make the wraps.  I had my own waitress – I guess I looked the most maladroit.  She literally guided my hand to dip the wrap into the sauce and almost forced the food into my mouth.  When I was completely full she kept trying to fill my mouth.  It is not like I looked like I needed it.  It was hilarious.  The food came fast and furious and at the end of the meal we all felt as if we had just had a speed-eating course.  As we were leaving the “Mama” came over and gave everyone a thank-you, gave me a hug (after patting my belly), then walked us out to the road and waved good-bye to us until we were out of sight.

force-feeding the fat farang

We were told that, in Asia, public signs of affection are frowned upon.   I don’t think this is true in Vietnam.  At the aforementioned restaurant my waitress had her hands on my shoulder the whole time and she gave me a hug as we left.   Today, after the cooking class, as we were leaving, the assistant chef escorted us to the cabs and as we were walking she casually put her arm around my waist.   The touching is like in Latin America.  It is too bad we have such a phobia about it in Canada – it is really a nice thing and it makes you feel warm and fuzzy.

Yesterday four of us rented bikes and went to a beach nearby. On the way back Telen got a bit behind and missed a turn.  We lost her.  I got a little bit frantic, not knowing if she got lost, injured or kidnapped and headed out on my bike to find her.  Norbert and Tony (the other two people on bikes) headed out in different directions to see if they could find her.  I think I went down every street in Hoi An feverishly searching.  The people in Hoi An probably wondered what possessed this weird farang to peddle so insanely all over town looking at the side of the road rather than the traffic.  Mind you, they do it all the time but the farangs are usually a lot more wary.  Telen made it back to the hotel ok after checking with some of the locals.  We all agreed that we had put on way too many kilometers that day and that it was time to return the bikes to the shop.

We took a Vietnamese cooking class today.  We got a market tour with the chef, a river cruise to the school and learned how to make four Vietnamese dishes.  The markets in Asia are not like Thrifty’s or Safeway at home.  You go to the market and buy everything directly from the farmer or fisherman.  Nothing comes wrapped in cellophane or is refrigerated and sometimes the seller has a mouth stained red with betel nut.  But, you can see exactly what it is you are buying and you know it is fresh. By the time the class was over we were stuffed.

the market at Hoi An

The one fly in the ointment was the cab ride home.  The cooking school had arranged it and the cab was supposed to drop us off at the hotel.  Once we got into town the cab pulled over and the driver told us to get out or pay more money for the rest of the ride to the hotel. We were dropped in a part of town that we did not know.  We told the driver that he was a cheat and we were going to the police but that did not bother him then I told him we were going to report him to the cooking school and that he would not get any more business from them in the future.  He was very belligerent but left before things got really ugly. Telen e-mailed the school and we got a very quick response. They did talk to one of the drivers and were going to talk to the other when they could find him. It is too bad that happened – it took a bit of the shine off the experience.

People are people and you get the bad with the good everywhere.  Bye and large the Vietnamese people are warm and friendly with big genuine smiles and a welcoming attitude.

Considering their history – That is amazing!

Telen writes:

After Hanoi, we took a 13 hour overnight sleeper train to Hue, the ancient capital of Vietnam.  Because of its historical significance, the town is full of temples and pagodas.  By this time, both Rand and I are pretty “templed out”.  Nevertheless, Hue is worth the visit.

Another "amazing" temple.  sigh

The next town we visited is Hoi An.  Both Hue and Hoi An are located in the middle of this long country.  Hoi An used to be an important seaport for the Spice Route in the 1600s to 1700s.  A lot of the old buildings have been preserved.  Now it is a tourist town.  I really enjoy Vietnamese food, especially the noodle soup called Pho.  Rand on the other hand is addicted to the Vietnamese coffee.

I think the local young ladies here like Rand’s masculine features i.e. the thick body hair and the muscular build.  Asian men have very little hair except on top of their heads.  At the restaurant that offered the set menu, several waitresses took turns at Rand’s side, helping him to make rice paper wraps AND simultaneously running their hands all over his hairy back and muscular shoulders.  Rand really enjoyed himself I would say, laughing and joking with them.  When I finally gave them a look of mild annoyance (like “keep your hands off my husband’s body”), Rand’s laughs became more subdued.  Rand kept saying to me that these ladies were just showing their warm hospitality…

Yes, I got lost when cycling back with the group from the beach.  I ended up about 10 km away from the hotel.  I was feeling rather anxious as the daylight was fading in the late afternoon.  My hotel map was too small to tell me where I was.  I managed to get help from a couple of people and eventually made it back to the hotel.  I really did not want to get lost in the middle of Vietnam when I don’t speak the language.