Central Vietnam

After an overnight bus ride from hell, my dad and i were deposited on the quiet streets of Hoi An at 5am. The city was the largest harbor in Southeast Asia in the 1st Century, and its contemporary claim to fame is its surviving old town, a UNESCO heritage site which features some of the most walkable streets in Vietnam. There's an occasionally enforced ban on motor vehicles (the sign specifically forbids any "non primitive vehicles"), and the streets are lined with well preserved buildings that have been converted into a tourist shopping haven, selling tailor made suits, buddha statues, modern art, and chinese lanterns. The highlight of our 48 hour stay ended up being cruising around the nearby countryside by bike. Under the protection of an overcast sky, we rode through villages surrounded by rice paddies, grazing water buffalo, and handfuls of enthusiastic children screaming hello. One such journey brought us to what appeared to be a scam perpetrated against foreigners. Within sight of the local beach, we were stopped by a pair of locals, who calmly explained that we had to leave our bikes in the 'official' parking area, which cost 12 cents. We reluctantly handed over 4,000 dong and made for the beach. Upon returning and retrieving our bikes, we were treated to an unexpected performance displaying the musical prowess of our bike guardian, which left us feeling like we got our moneys worth. To the background music of a Vietnamese pop song, bike man sang a passionate, improvised ballad, and in the process, insisted on taking my hand and leading me through a dance routine. "I watch your bike, you no worry. I watch your bike, your bike ok with me!" He continued in similar fashion for the duration of the song, and bid us farewell with a dramatic bow.

A four hour bus ride north delivered us to the imperial city of Hue, (pronounced Way), which was the capital of Vietnam as recently as 1945. The city was crushed during the war, and only recently have its many historical landmarks begun to be reconstructed. Based on the following experiences, this ended up being my favorite place in Vietnam. On the night of our arrival, we stumbled upon a gem of free entertainment - a high school dance competition in a park overlooking the Huong River. Hip hop appears to be alive and well in Vietnam, as group after group put together some impressive breakdancing performances, some more creative than others. The standouts were one crew that played air guitar with traditional Vietnamese instruments and another that danced to a Vietnamese remix of the Beverly Hills Cop theme song. The only low point of the night was a mass ensemble of about 25 kids performing a routine to the theme song from high school musical. That aint hip hop.

Again, a major highlight here was exploring the nearby countryside by bicycle, the most entertaining journey being a quest to locate one of two existing Japanese covered bridges in Vietnam. After asking a handful of eagerly helpful locals for directions, we eventually got ourselves in the vicinity of the bridge, and then found it by dumb luck, as a woman vendor flagged us down to come have a beer. We caved in to her sales pitch, only to find that her snack stand was located in the shadows of our desired location. Upon entering the shelter of the bridge, we were met by an intriguing character, an old woman with painted on eye brows, and bare feet exposing freshly painted, bright red toenails. She spoke excellent English which she attributed to her past marriage to an American soldier. After our initial introductions were complete, she proceeded to inform us as to why she was occupying the bridge; to tell the fortunes of those who pass. For shits and giggles, we both presented her with open palms, which resulted in some mind blowing revelations. First for the father: "You very good man, you very good to your family, very handsome, you have good son, love you very much." Then for the son: "You very handsome. Your family love you very much. You very good boy. Good to your father. Very nice boy." Then the most important news, she forecast that our deaths would come at the respectively ripe ages of 88 and 82.

From one interesting character to another. Just beyond the bridge, we reached the village museum, whose sole employee was an unforgettable old woman in her pajamas, who guided us through the most entertaining museum tour on the face of the earth. The museum housed a small collection of traditional Vietnamese farming equipment, which the woman who was well into her 80's, proceeded to passionately demonstrate one at a time. With the energy of a small child, she jumped from one piece of equipment to the next, violently stirring the rice grinder and pedaling the bicycle-like water distributor, adding to the drama with an impressive array of sound effects, such as the chopping of the rice plants, crying babies, and water buffalo splashing through the mud. All the while, she sported a friendly smile, exposing teeth that appeared to be intentionally blackened. After a failed, modest sales pitch for us to buy some water buffalo figurines from the dusty gift shop, she graciously accepted a small donation to the museum and waved goodbye before going back to sleep on the table at the entrance.

Hue also became the place where we would get our most insightful look at the day to day lives of some typical Vietnamese folks. Through the wonders of the Internet, i was able to get in contact with Thuan, a local university student, who agreed to meet us for the prototypical social gathering, drinking coffee. After a night of getting caffienated by the city lake, which he and his friend described as lover's lake (for all of the couples who frequent it), he invited us for lunch in his apartment, which is shared with his younger brother and friend. We arrived at his abode to find that these 3 guys share one 6' x 10' room with one bed and one desk, which immediately made me fell like a spoiled idiot for ever having issues with the amount of personal space afforded by the dorm rooms of California. His roommate prepared us a delicious lunch, which we shared on their bedroom floor, regularly interrupted with a rotating shot glass of rice wine,(their drink of choice because of its combined potency and affordability - 30% alcohol and 42 cents for a .5 liter bottle). After our meal, the landlord, a 92 year old man known as Uncle Le, crashed the party. Uncle Le didn't speak any English but seemed fascinated by the presence of the 2 strange foreign visitors, an ear to ear smile glued to his face for the duration of our stay. Through the students' translation, Uncle Le made several attempts to set me up with one of his many granddaughters. Lunch officially ended with a photo shoot of the students and Uncle Le, who burst into uncontrollable laughter every time we showed him the freshly captured images on the screen of my camera.
The following afternoon, we boarded a hard sleeper train, (named for the 1cm thick mattress we slept on). We quickly crossed through the former demilitarized zone (DMZ), which separated north and south Vietnam in the not so distant past. 15 hours later, we were stumbling out into the madness of morning rush hour traffic in the capital city of Hanoi...