The Grand Tour

Vietnamese Rodeo

[This is the second of two entries composed over the last two days.]

What a day! Woke up at 7a, and headed for a village where some part of
the family lives (the half-siblings of Christine's mom). Things got
interesting from the get go, when a high-ranking military officer in
full uniform enters the hotel lobby and heads straight for
Christine. Turns out, he is a cousin, but Christine poured out a
couple of buckets of sweat till she figured it out.

Then 11 of us pile into a little minivan. Minivan here means "a van
for Mini Me's". God knows how we made it all in. There were the
driver, Christine's mom and aunt, Christine and me, the cousin and his
wife, another cousin and his wife, and his two daughters (the younger
one sported the cutest yellow outfit with the inscription
"Go/Best's/You ast/like the winter"... don't ask me what that
means). But I shouldn't complain because if I sat sidewards, there was
enough room for my legs; and there was no smoking at all.

So off we go to the village. Driving on Vietnam highways is a true
nightmare come true.

• The (one and only) divided highway (American-built from the war
  days) is sort-of OK: two lanes in each direction, though lanes are
  optional: one must always be on the lookout for the car (or bus or
  motorbike) next to them deciding to snuggle up.

• But then we went onto regular highways. Like lane switching,
  there is a solid line down the middle on the road but it has no
  meaning: if somebody is coming the other way, just blow the horn loud
  enough to scare them off the road. If they are a motorbike, they are
  easy prey... if they are a bus, then honk louder to intimidate the car
  to your right (going the same way as you) to slow down so that you can
  squeeze back in. If honking doesn't work, give them a dirty look (but
  for Heaven's sake, don't look at the bus ahead). Of course, before
  even honking to go right, the natural thing to do is accelerate
  towards the oncoming bus in order to pass the car to the right and end
  up in front of them.

• Next, we have the rural roads: there is enough pavement for one
  car, but that doesn't affect the speed limit it seems. Just drive the
  right wheels on the rice paddy and you can fit a bus and a truck going
  opposite directions at full speed just fine. Better yet, try a minivan
  and water buffalo (who should have license plates in my opinion, given
  how many of them are on the road).

• Finally, we have the dirt roads. Dirt is too kind a word: mud is
  better. Bamboo growing right up against the car, and the car's rear
  end literally sliding right and left as each wheel slips by different
  amounts. Too busy praying to see the sights at that point. In fact,
  there is so much bumping and swaying that it's practically impossible
  to see anything at all. Add the squeeking of the car's suspension and
  it's a feat for all the senses.

But we made it to a town near the village, where we stopped to meet
one of the half-brothers. He invited us to his home, where I got to
pet two cats (a thoroughly enjoyable experience)! And also check out
the local energy drink, RedBuffalos. Then he and his wife took us back
to our van, we all got in, and then, lo-and-behold, they got in too to
bring the total count to 13.

Nice and snug all together, we went to a nearby shrine. A pretty large
one, actually, dedicated to an emperor who won a major battle against
the Chinese (12th century) and the successors of his imperial lineage
named Tran. Hm... Tran? What's Christine's mom name? Xiem Tran! So
there you have it folks, my wife is a real princess! They are indeed
related, no joke.

The sardine can of a minivan then went to lunch at a nice hotel in
town (nice enough for its reception to have the usual multiple clocks
with time around the world, including Bac Kinh (Peking) and Lon
Don). We took up one table, and then shortly afterwards, a much larger
mass of men came in and took up all the other tables. I couldn't spot
a single women, so I was convinced this was some soft of a bachelors'
convention. Turns out it was a business lunch, and, yes, there were
women, but obviously, men and women comrades are not equal
participants in business affairs.

Then the treck to the village began in the good-old trusty minivan
(and all 13 of us). On the way, we passed these large groups of rice
paddies, dotted with small colorful structures here and there at
random places. Those are shrines to ancestors, and nobody dares move
them: many were built while the place was jungle, and when rice
paddies replaced the jungle, the shrines stayed put. When many shrines
are grouped together, they are called ghost towns.

So we're driving down the road, and then we turn left, heading
straight for the river. And when I say river, I mean the great Red
River. And when I say heading for it, I mean straight for it: no
bridge, no wharf, just a mud slide merging with the water. We stop on
time, get out, and wait for the ferry. Which shows up very soon. When
I say ferry, I mean a wide boat that can fit one car at a time (and
maybe a couple of bicycles), operated by the same family since who
knows when. And when I say the family, I mean everyone, including the
10-year old who drove the boat to the other side.

When we landed, we were surrounded by small white butterflies! What a
pretty sight! Those are what silkworms become if you let them form a
cocoon and metamorphosize (instead of harvesting the silk).

Out of the ferry, back on the muddy road, and into the village where
the road simply ended. Out we all get, and we are initially the big
crowd out of the bus. Until an even larger crowd surrounds us. One of
them (the other half-brother) spoke French, and he took it upon
himself to introduce me to everybody else (all family, of course) as
the professor from Hanoi. What defies description is the people
themselves: skinny, missing at least one tooth, or having red teeth
(the women --- from chewing betel nuts which is what women do when men
act manly and smoke).

We visit the family shrine, pay our respects, and then the real fun
starts! Their house has the requisite farm animals, so we first meet
the pregnant pot-bellied pig (who eventually stopped being shy and
came over to sniff me). Then the chicken and their chicks. Then the
silkworms feeding. Then we eat some papaya fresh off the papaya
tree. And some berries from a berry bush next to a colorful shrine in
the middle of the fields. Then a short walk with the two little Hanoi
girls to buy a balloon (which I inflated for them, and which they
promptly busted soon thereafter), where I feel like I am a Martian who
has just landed on Earth. I was probably the first Greek they've seen
in their lives, which is the same thing. People loved having their
photo taken and seeing their face on the small screen on the back of
my camera; even in Hanoi, cameras are very rare, and digital cameras
virtually nonexistent. The walk ended with me climbing on a
construction site (all houses are made of concrete, and bamboo, not
wood, is used for framing and building supports) to look at the
village from above.

When the girls and I got back, Christine had the absolutely best
surprise for me... she (with a cousin's assistance) had found a guy
who owned water buffalo! And he was on his way to bring them back for
me to pet them. Two huge gorgeous females came lumbering down the mud
road soon, with a calf in tow. Despite the warnings that they are
covered in dry mud and they smell (like me, but it seems they thought
I'm a regular clean-cut westerner), I was very excited to pet them,
and then I even got to ride one! Yiiii haaa! I absolutely LOVED it!
Nope, we didn't go anywhere: I just sat on his back, absolutely
thrilled to be there. By the way, the ride set us back a grand total
of $0.30, and he refused to take it until we insisted.

I just slept on the way back. Christine, though, had one more surprise
for me when we got home. She handed me a photo book, I opened it, and
I saw my wife in the corniest glamour photoshoot one can imagine. This
is Vietnam, the land of excessive bad taste when it comes to imported
traditions... so a photoshoot consists of them doing your makeup (and
so Christine had these huge fake eyelashes on), and giving you a
choice between many a loud outfit (bright enough to be used as
refective safety gear at night). It was the funnest thing I've seen in
a while... especially one where she posed just like the girl in the
Bia Ha Noi (Hanoi Beer) ad. Great... my own Bud girl! Well, OK, I do
admit a couple of shots are pretty good and sexy despite their
extravagance.

Posted by Toli at March 27, 2004 10:06 AM