HAPPY BUDDHAS: Vietnam Travelogue (Part 2 – Culture)

23 November 2017 (Thanksgiving)

I join Anne & Tom and Mike & Lana for breakfast and am filled in on the previous evening’s shenanigans.  They are going on the optional tour this morning and must leave to prepare.  I go back to my room, putter, write in my journal, and head to the concierge to make arrangements for a taxi to the Hoi An Theater.  I am told the drive should take 15 minutes, so I plan to return to the hotel no later than 2:15 p.m. to make my 2:45 p.m. meeting time.

I time the walk from my hotel to Old Town Hoi An to gauge when I should head back.  On the way I’m accosted by a very nice seamstress who wants to make me some clothes.  Apparently it’s common for proprietors to chat you up and segue into the sales pitch.  Unless what they’re offering is a massage.  Then they skip the pleasantries and get right to the point.  I guess that product speaks for itself.

I plan to eat at Morning Glory, a cooking school and restaurant known for its high quality street food, so I make my way there to scout the location.  My map is confusing, and I get turned around, ending up in the Central Market for several stressful minutes.  My personal version of hell.  Consumerism at its most aggressive.  I make my way to the river to escape.  The water has breached the banks and spilled into small inlets on the sidewalk.  I locate the restaurant, then find a bench on the other side of the river to relax and enjoy the view.

All over Old Town handicapped men sell English language newspapers for $2.  One approaches me, and I give in.  Several minutes later another comes up to me, so I flashed the recently purchased newspaper, and he moves on.  A pack of unchaperoned dogs run up and down the street.  They look fed and clean, so perhaps residents are more comfortable with animals roaming freely about the town than we are in the U.S.

Morning Glory serves an exceptional seafood noodle dish, and I wash it down with Larue beer.  For dessert I have an excellent banana pudding cake.  Yes, it’s as decadent as it sounds.  After lunch I hike back to the hotel for a brief rest before the “Dinner With The Nguyens” tour.

Considering how most people drive in this country I prepare for a white-knuckled taxi ride.  Instead we move at a snail’s pace.  The driver spends a fair amount of time on his cell phone.  And despite leaving the hotel at 2:20 p.m. I begin to wonder if I’ll meet my guide on time.  There’s further delay because the driver doesn’t have 30,000 VND in change, so we stop at a nearby store.  I suspect I may be his first customer ever.  I arrive at the meeting place exactly at 2:45 p.m.  The rain has begun in earnest now.

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Side Note:  Most Vietnamese speak at least two languages fluently – Vietnamese and honking.  Everyone honks.  I’m not sure what the rules of the road are in Vietnam, but I have yet to see an accident.  Plenty of close calls, however.

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After a few uncertain minutes walking around the Hoi An Theater I meet Trang Le, my guide, and she and I climb into a mini-van to pick up 4 Kiwis who represent the balance of our tour group.  This is a walking tour, so the driver drops us off at the bridge to the nearby island of Cam Nam.  Though I have my own raincoat Trang has come prepared with XO Tours rain gear for everyone.  Bundled against the rain and wind, we trudge across the bridge to the island where our first stop is a local restaurant.  We sample fish cakes with dipping sauce, oysters with dipping sauce, and rice fried shrimp with dipping sauce.  Did I mention there were dipping sauces?  All washed down with more Larue beer.

Our next stop is a local farmhouse, but the path there is unexpectedly flooded.  Two of our number (myself being one) lack appropriate foot ware, so off come the shoes and socks and up go the pant legs.  When we arrive at the farm, the farmer brings out a bucket, gives us rubber sandals, and rinses our feet.  Inside we meet the farmer’s wife who teaches us to make Vietnamese pancakes made of rice flour, turmeric and milk.  You can add pork and/or shrimp to taste.  The pancake (folded over like an omelet) is rolled in rice paper with some sprouts and – you guessed it! – dipping sauce.  We each made one pancake at the family stove under the wife’s supervision.  Lovely.

Because our route would still be flooded and muddy, the farmer lends us the rubber sandals for the remainder of the tour.  Trang will return them afterwards.

Our next stop is a local market where we try different local fruits.  One looks like an eyeball but tastes sweet.  My favorite is the persimmon.

Our final leg of the trip is a boat ride back to Old Town for dessert.  Due to flooded banks we take a small boat to the larger boat.  The water is a shin deep wade, and the mud sucks at the borrowed sandals.  On the boat there’s more food.  I’m beginning to hit my limit.  The meat eaters (everyone but me) have beef and pork wraps with dipping sauce.  I have steamed fish with dipping sauce.  I’m glad this is a walking/wading tour, otherwise I’d be hopelessly stuffed.

We arrive at the banks of Old Town, and the sidewalks are underwater up to the steps of businesses.  We wade from the boat to Cargo for dessert -- a variety of fruit cakes.  These are mercifully free of dipping sauces.  We return the rubber sandals to Trang, and the shoes and socks go back on.  A fitting end to an amazing tour.  All the adventure and incredible food you could possibly desire.  If you ever go to Ho Chi Minh or Hoi An, look up XO Tours.  You will be glad you did.

24 November 2017 (Friday)

Heavy rains all through the night.  The Kiwis had a cooking class scheduled for this morning in Old Town.  I wonder if they were flooded out.  I suspect the restaurant where we had dessert the night before is under several inches of water.  The hotel grounds are flooded.  I walk to breakfast leaping over puddles.

Another Gate 1 group arrived yesterday, and today’s breakfast is chaotic.  The buffet is elbow to elbow.  I try the Vietnamese coffee with condensed milk and am quite pleased.  Nearby a woman (from the other Gate 1 group?) complains that she has yet to see the sun in Vietnam.  By her tone one would think the Vietnamese people personally responsible for the country’s weather.

On the bus ride to Hue we stop briefly at a marble shop in Da Nang where I buy a small Happy Buddha figurine.  Another brief stop at China Beach (where the French and American soldiers landed during their respective invasions).  The sky is overcast and drizzly.  Our last side trip before Hue is at the Dragon Bridge.

We arrive at the hotel in Hue an hour before the city tour is to begin.  With a very quick lunch of shrimp fried rice and Saigon beer at a family run restaurant across the street I am fortified for the tour.

The rain continues.  The bus drops us off, and a gaggle of women selling umbrellas and ponchos descend upon us.  I have to pull out my own umbrella to get a persistent hawker to back off.

The Imperial City was home to the last King of Vietnam before control was handed over to the French in 1945.  Hai explains that the King had many concubines so he could hand power over to one of his many children.  The parents of prospective concubines would bribe the attending eunuch to bring their daughter to the King’s attention.  Also a prospective concubine could prepare one of the King’s many dishes.  Presentation was everything (since the King could not possibly eat everything presented to him).  If the dish caught the King’s eye, the girl would be summoned.  Likewise a girl could make the King an article of clothing.  If a particular garment pleased him the seamstress was brought to him.

Eunuchs, Hai continues, were brought to the Imperial City in three ways.  The first type were those born without the “population stick.”  They were unceremoniously dropped off at the gates.  The second type were effeminate men.  The third type were boys so poor that becoming a eunuch was their chance for a good life serving the King.  There were female eunuchs that were used primarily to teach young princes the ways of love.  Boys were mutilated by removing some or all of their “population sticks” while girls were beaten on the stomach to force out their ovaries.  Neither eunuch could reproduce.

Hue was the site of the Tet Offensive in 1968, and a good portion of the Imperial City was destroyed by B-52 bombers trying to dislodge the Viet Cong from the grounds.  The city is still impressive, but the rain and excessive tourists take away much of the luster.

Back at the hotel, it’s still raining.  I had planned to walk to the Mandarin Café for dinner while part of the group took the optional Cyclo Tour.  After a brief nap in my 7^th floor room, however, I am so chilled I crawl under the covers for warmth.  The wind cuts through the windows.  I pass out for several hours and settle for a protein bar once I wake up at 11:00 p.m.  A lost evening.