Sometimes, not always, but sometimes things just work out better than expected. After a thrilling but tiring bike trip in the Mekong Delta, we were unsure how to spend our last few days in Saigon and Vietnam. The kids had booked Sunday afternoon for a play date with their friends from Mui Ne. Monday we had to make it to the airport at a decent hour to catch our flight to Bangkok. I had tried in vain to take in a Vietnamese cooking class since I arrived. After checking with a number of schools, the only one avaiable was Sunday morning. This meant bringing the kids along. They were both a bit apprehensive, to say nothing of Deb and me. As it turned out, it was one of the best experiences we have had in Vietnam. Our class was made up of the friendliest people from Hong Kong and equally friendly neighbours from Toronto. We barely had time to do our cooking because we were all so busy sharing road stories and making plans to meet again sometime, either in Hong Kong (apparently Shannon is having her NEXT birthday there), Yellowknife or Toronto. The class itself was great. We cooked (and ate) five delicious Vietnamese dishes. At the end, we all received a recipe book and graduation certificates. The girls had to leave a bit early to catch a ride to District 3 for their play date, so the whole class walked down the four levels of stairs to see them off. What great people!
I'm not sure if it is simply being away from home or the type of people who travel alot, but we have met some lovely folks, especially in Vietnam. On our first night in Saigon, we met up with other families from Denmark and Sweden. On New Year's Eve we all sat around the tiny tables in our Guest House common room for a celebritory meal compliments of the owners. We all played "spoons" and a version of hack a sac on the busy sidewalk before venturing out into the absolute mahem of Saigon on a party night. Thousands upon thousands of motor bikes buzzed down every inch of the packed streets, slowly making their way to the river to take in the fireworks display. It was sensory overload. Their was music and light and food and smells and noise and celebration the likes of which we had not seen before. Just before midnight we made it back to the Guesthouse where we were permitted to go up on the roof to watch the fireworks. The Swedish family had managed to find some Ukranian champagne earlier in the day and they happily shared it as we rang in the New Year to a great fireworks display. It was a memorable way to celebrate a night that I seldom celebrate. Happy New Year everyone!
Saigion is one hell of a city. It's chaotic, frustrating and wondrous all at the same time. The vanilla and white french colonial buildings are right out of Grahame Greene's "The Quiet American." Elsewhere it teems with otherworldy asian energy and insanity. After getting our bearings on day 1, we visited the "War Remnants Museum" formerly called the "Museum of American War Crimes." In addition to a bunch of captured American military planes and vehicles, there were two floors of very graphic photographs depicting the horrors of the war. I was impressed with the relative objectivity of the display on the top floor that featured famous photos from an international slate of journalists, all of whom were ultimately killed while covering the conflict. The display on the lasting effects of Agent Orange was particularly moving, especially for the kids. On our way home we strolled past the Reunification Palace where north Vietnamese tanks smashed through the gates to officially end the war in April 1975. Unfortunatley, the famous rooftop of the American Embassy where the last US soldiers and personnel were evacuated by helicopter when the fall of Saigon was imminent was torn down a few years ago. There were several Americans touring around and I wondered how they felt seeing things portrayed the way they are here.
The other highlight of our time in the south was a three day bike tour through the Mekong Delta. I fell in love with this river when I gazed across it from Thailand at forbidden Burma 15 years ago (you may know it as Myanmar my friends- Seinfeld quote there). Shane McGowan makes reference to Mekong Whisky in his fantastic tune "Sayonara," although I've not been able to lay my hands on any yet! The Mekong is the bread basket of Vietnam. Most of the country's rice and fruit comes from this rich, watery world that is more Cambodia than Vietnam. Our tour guide Thang with Sihnbalo Tours was from the Mekong and knew the area very well. He went to great lengths to take us off the tourist trail to meet real poeple in the course of their every day life. From the bikes, to the guest houses, to the food and boats, it was excellent in every way. We visited a village market where we witnessed disturbing scenes of fish and frogs being peeled/skinned alive and left to writhe in their displays, live chickens tied together by the feet in the severe heat waiting to be bought and mercifully slaughtered, and rats, snakes and insects on display for a subsequent meal. It was hard to reconcile this treatment of living creatures with the kids' norms. We hoped we were not stereotyping when we explained that Asian people don't have the same food distribution and harvesting systems that we do in Canada (although I'm not sure ours are much better.) They put a premium on fresh meat and produce and less of a premium on the care of living creatures, at least on market day. I don't know if I got that right but it's the best I could do with two kids who needed something to make sense of it all. At least, I told them, these animals are not penned up in small cages their whole lives before being slaughtered.
Other stops included: an early morning visit to a floating market where we purchased fresh coffee and pineapple from small boat vendors plying the muddy waters of the Mekong; a hammock siesta at a local cafe where we were served fresh pressed sugar cane juice in the blessed shade; an impromptu demonstration of local rice paper being hand made over an open fire and then dried on banana leaf racks; several knee wobbling traverses of bamboo "monkey bridges" assembled by locals to cross delta streams, and the shouts of countless children yelling "Heeeellllooooo" at us as we rode past. Like everywhere, people were fascinated with the girls' fair hair and skin. Old ladies, workmen and school girls would stop in their tracks and point wide eyed. Many touched their arms and hair in amazement, as if they were touching an alien of some sort. Lucky for our girls, the Danish kids were even more fair, so they took the brunt of it. On several occassions I accepted genuine invitations to sit at a table, or on the floor, and tip one back with the locals. The first opportunity came as we were about to board a small ferry to a homestay guesthouse on January 2. A group of dock workers had not had a chance to celebrate New Years the day before so were doing it now. And doing it well. I accepted a cold beer from one of them, fully anticipating a scam of some sort. But these guys were just salt of the earth characters having a few cold ones after work. They shared some fruit and meat with me, taught me how to say Happy New Year in Vietnamese and kept putting one cold beer after another in my eager hand. When I tried to leave some money on my departure, they immediately groaned en masse and made me take it back. I'll always remember thier generosity and good natured spirit. The second time, I was eavesdropping on a family squattng around a meal on their front porch. We'd stopped our bikes for a water break across the road and I was trying to figure out if they were screaming at each other in anger or just carrying on a normal conversation. One of them caught me looking and gestured for me to come over - holding out a shot glass as an inducement. What the hell. I went in through the gate and sat down with them. They poured me up a small glass of clear liquid from a medium sized jug. It was strong and tasted something like terpentine. Tasted like another actually, as I smiled and nodded while they jabbered incoherently at me and took pictures. I wonder if some kids, generations from now, will look upon family photos of "that time" a sweaty white guy came into the yard and shared some of the homemade hooch. The kids were horrified at me, but this is the kind of authentic experience I love when travelling. Good thing we didn't have to bike much further. That stuff was potent!
The biking itself was outstanding. While we spent some time on the crazy streets getting nearly run off the road by all manner of conveyance, most of it was spent bumping over tiny back country trails and village lanes. The kids loved the ride and were happy to put about 40 kms behind them on one day. Every turn led to a new sight, be it a long, arched bridge with no rail of any kind, to schools of children yelling "Heeeellllooooo" to them as they passed. We were paired up with another young family from Denmark with kids aged 8 and 9. Their kids did not speak any english, but somehow that did not stop them from having loads of fun with Shannon and Mira. They taught each other card games, words from each other's language and laughed and gigged together for three straight days. Everyone was sad to say good-bye when the tour was over. Lately we've been thinking that we should have dedicated the last half of our trip to visiting the people we have met on the first half. Maybe we will!
We enjoyed the biking so much that we now hope to incorporate more trips of this kind into our remaining travels. In addition to a week bike trip in the south of France with the Joyal/Christies, we are now researching tours in Africa and Turkey. It's an awsome way to get close to people, exercise and stay far, far away from the tour buses.
Tomorrow we leave Vietnam. To say it has had a profound impact on us would be a serious understatement. We have loved (almost) every inch of this country, its people, culture, food, history and spirit. India may make all of this a footnote to the cultural influence of this voyage, but somehow I doubt it. Vietnam is now on the long list of places I'd love to come back to. All of us have made our own individual connections with the place and its people. Tomorrow we fly to Bangkok for a one night stopover (and a quick trip downtown so Tim can recover his wallet). Then it's off to Kolkata for the start of our five week India/Nepal segment. Looking forward to celebrating Old Christmas Day with David, Amy, Laurel and Willem and swapping road stories over a gin and tonic while gazing upon the remnants of the one time capital of British India. For now, it's off for one last serving of Pho. Then I'm going to bed early so I can get up again at 2 am to watch San Fran play Green Bay. Hmmmm, which of those two do I want to lose most . .. . . . Happy wildcard weekend everyone.