Holding onto History in Hoi An

From [09.02.05] Hoi An

Hoi An is a city semi-frozen in time. And for Vietnam, a place ravages by some of the worst bombing this world has ever witnessed, maintaining this level of historic preservation is an amazing feat. Given the rare glimpse into Vietnam’s past, the city is unexpectedly a tourist hub, and on any given afternoon one will witness more Western than Vietnamese faces or hear the constant chatter of Chinese tour groups.

The latter are drawn to Hoi An because of its legacy as a bastion of Chinese immigrants, the financial powerhouses of this once important trading hub. Lovely old Chinese social clubs, homes and temples, restored to their original grandeur, are dabbled throughout the Old Town historic district. While these carefully recreated retreats offer true insights into the city’s past, most of the other historic shops and home in the Old Town eagerly gobble up the glut of tourism, hawking every kind of Vietnamese souvenir imaginable.

All the kitsch didn’t turn me off, however, as quaint, quiet Hoi An quickly became my favorite stop on the trip. Call me a sucker, but I love stepping back in time to view a place before globalization came calling.

We arrived in Hoi An by overnight bus in what was one of hte more interesting travel experiences I’ve had. We read nightmare stories about these bus rides, and therefore careful researched the best company — TM Brothers — with which to travel. The seats all recline to about 160 degrees, with ample leg room for even a person as tall as Sean. That said, they are a bit on the narrow side and are constructed of relatively hard, sterile vinyl. On the upside, the vinyl prevents such nasties as bed bugs. The journey was a bit bumpy and I wouldn’t say it was the best sleep of my life, but it made due. Put it this way, I didn’t have to take a nap the next day.

Our time in Hoi An started off on a rough note when we realized we had just left the photo from Long Thanh — for which we paid around $100 — on the bus. After pleading with the bus company, they assured us it would be at their office when the bus returned that evening. I didn’t believe them, but in the end all worked out and the photo was indeed recovered.

We spent the first day wandering around the city, taking in the gorgeous illuminated lanterns at night, playing pool in the afternoons, etc. Our second day there, we rented a moto — Sean just couldn’t get enough — and toured the coast known as China Beach. Yes, like the TV show. The beach itself is being touted as the next great beach destination in Vietnam, and the long strip of sand is entirely blocked from view by the enormous resort developments rising along the shore. Given the economy these days, I have no idea who they heck the expect to fill these behemoths.

At the end of the strip, near the large city of Danong, lies Monkey Mountain, so named by the American troops stationed here during the war. Now, the mountain belongs to the Vietnamese military, but we were able to ride around to take in some of the beautiful views. Upon returning to Hoi An, we enjoyed a delicious cooking class at the Red Bridge Cooking School.

The next morning, we embarked upon what was one of the highlights of our trip: a bike tour with the proprietor of The Sleepy Gecko, a wonderfully lazy bar and restaurant across the river from the Old Town. We’d received the recommendation from a scuba instructor back in Nha Trang and made a point of seeking out the joint. When we arrived to book the tour, two happily drunk Aussies started raving about the bike trip they had just completed and we were sold on the $35 day-long tour. Steve, the owner, personally takes you around the small island villages around Hoi An. Having married a local woman and living in Vietnam for seven year, Steve is well known by all the locals and you visit the homes of his relatives and their friends. And we’re not talking tourist visits; you are welcomed into the home as a friend for a drink (or several) of the local variety of rice wine and a snack or two. On top of meeting the local people, we saw a rice paddy drained for fish, visited a woodworking shop, and enjoyed pristine vistas at every turn. The highlight of the tour was, of course, lunch, where we befriended a table of folks about our age that were management at a sneaker factory. Hilarity — including a live karaoke performance by yours truly — ensued.

The only sour note of our time in Hoi An was the final night of Tet, when while walking around enjoying the open temples and people offering their final prayers, Sean’s wallet was lifted. He didn’t lose too much money and we found the wallet on the ground with all credit cards still intact, so it wasn’t the end of the world. Still, getting pickpocketed isn’t very nice or very fun. C’est le vie.

[09.02.05] Hoi An

In the Ho, Yo! Ho Chi Minh City

From [09.01.28] Ho Chi Minh City

While I’ve seen the musical “Miss Saigon,” I had never been to the city itself … until now. And, well, technically I’ll never be to Saigon, because after the North Vietnamese (the communists) took the city in the 1970s, the renamed it Ho Chi Minh City in honor of the father of the communist movement in Vietnam, the man they still call “Uncle Ho.” (Side note: In China, the current president Hu Jintao is referred to as Grandpa Hu. What is up with communists getting all cuddly on their leaders?) the North/South divide still surfaces in how difference Vietnamese people refer to the city. To the Northerners, Ho’s the word. To the south, they will always miss their Saigon.

HCMC, as it’s often called, is a bustling metropolis seething with mayhem fueled by motos and money. Smaller than Beijing but bigger and brighter than Phnom Penh, HCMC is where the well-to-do of Vietnam reside, including expats here for business reasons. Vietnam has recently surpassed China as the place in Asia to do business, and that influence shows here. The gritty glitz of a city on the rise immediately captured my curiosity and I still wish we had spent more than two brief nights here.

We arrived in the evening and set out in search of a French restaurant. This is where I imparted on Sean one of the most important lessons I learned the last time I was in Vietnam: cross the street slowly. Crossing the street in Vietnam is a lesson in awareness, peripheral vision and grace. Hundreds of motos surges at you, and one can get easily nervous as to how to get from point A to B. All you have to do is time it well and move like a snail so that the motos can detect your position and part like the Red Sea around you as you glide across thee thoroughfare. There’s something miraculous in how well the dance between driver and pedestrian works.

Unfortunately, because of Tet, our first choice of restaurants was closed. Fortunately, because of Tet, we ran smack dab into the middle of a huge outdoor promenade that had brought out practically all of Vietnam to view floral sculptures. Unfortunately, not because of Tet, I didn’t get any photos because the crowd was too big. Sean dined on exquisite French cuisine that evening — I refrained as I still was gripped by “the sickness” — one of the few welcome leftovers of the colonial days.

Since we only had two evenings and one full day in HCMC, we skipped the Cu Chi tunnels, the underground burrows of the Vietcong, in order to explore the city. Our walking tour took us to both the Independence Palace, last home of the final president of South Vietnam before the communist takeover, to Fanny, the most DELICIOUS ice cream place I’ve been to in a while with wildly inventive ice cream creations and to the War Remnants Museum. The museum, while definitely focused ont he Vietnamese side of the struggle, highlighted the atrocities faced by civilians not involved in the war. The graphic images and displays, including fetuses mangled beyond comprehension by Agent Orange, were a lot for me to take. But I guess that’s the point: War is a horrible thing that should be avoided at all costs and only used when absolutely necessary. I truly understand how lucky I am that I have never been personally touched by war.

That evening, we scoured the backpacker’s ghetto for food and beverage, both of which we enjoyed to satisfaction.

[09.01.28] Ho Chi Minh City

King Mekong: Can Tho

From [09.01.27] Can Tho

Another bus ride and we arrived in Can Tho, the largest town in and arguably the heart of the Mekong River Delta, the throbbing soul of commerce and production in the south of Vietnam. Although we arrived relatively early in the day, most restaurants, shops and, well, everything else was still closed for Tet, which we soon learned usually sprawls over a week or two before and beyond the actual holiday. That wasn’t too much of a problem as now it was me that came down with the travel bug. After eating nonstop for two weeks, my appetite ground to a screeching halt. Nevertheless, I did enjoy a nice bowl of pho and a tour of the town’s markets before my bowels got the better of me.

Can Tho is famous for its floating markets, where Mekong maidens and misters churn their paddles and maneuver their rudders into close quarters for fresh fruit, veggies and other foods just as the morning light ignites the heavens. Once again, Tet thwarted our best intentions, as the markets were closed.

Nevertheless, we arranged a five hour tour of the Mekong and her baby canals in the small hours of the day. Our toothless, selfless and grateful guide picked us up at 6AM and showed us to his boat. Rather than calling attention to wear-and-tear, each chip of paint on his boat and wrinkle in his smile attested to his long seated connection to this area, one he was happy to show to us. While the larger, faster tourist boats zoomed by, throwing our tiny vessel into heaves of passionate rolling, we felt more and more happy to be trawling our way down the Mekong and its sideways in the intimacy of a friend of the river.

After watching the sun ascend and squiggling through narrow waterways, we pulled up to a family home/cafe for a breakfast of fresh spring rolls and fruit. Even though I was vomiting in the bathroom — yep, I told you I had “the sickness” — I loved this place. Roosters in the back, children with no pants playing hide-and-go-seek, dogs ready to play fetch, fruit trees, giant beetles, friendly, loving people … it was perfect.

We hopped back on the boat for the return trip and even had to, sadly, turn down a lovely invite by another family to have tea with them. Another insight into how I like to travel and a plea to others traveling: Please take time to enjoy the places off the tourist map, the people not in the guidebook. Everyone we met that was “off the grid” was so eager to talk to us, especially to have us speak with their children learning English that don’t have many opportunities to speak to foreigners. I wish we had even more time to do so. The more different people interact, the more understanding there is in this world. And that people want to encourage this in their children makes me so very happy.

Oh, and I got over the sickness by the next day. On to the Ho, yo!

[09.01.27] Can Tho

Tet for Tat: Ha Tien

From [09.01.26] Ha Tien Tet

That mythical yet so knowledgeable “they” say that travel is all about the surprises that make a trip memorable. Well, we were very surprised when we end up in a town that we had no plan to visit, and had not even decided to go to ourselves.

We hired a rather expensive taxi in Sihanoukville to take us to the border crossing into Vietnam near Chau Doc, a town on the Mekong River. However, due either to a misunderstanding — what I want to chalk it up to — or a scam — what Sean wants to believe — we were taken to the border crossing further south where tourists from Sihanoukville usually go, near Ha Tien. Since our driver didn’t speak a lick of English, we had a major impasse about where we were and got out of our cab. We really didn’t even understand what was going on until we had already departed Cambodia and were standing on the road between Cambodia’s border control and Vietnam’s. Only then did we realize what had happened. Rather than getting angry, we decided to make the most of it and enjoy spending the Tet (lunar new year) holiday in Ha Tien.

We’ve never done a land border crossing before, let alone one where we literally walked from one checkpoint to the next, but it was super easy. The only diversion was a comically crooked Vietnamese border agent that after exclaiming “HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU!” followed up with “New Year’s present?” with a big grin. We couldn’t help but laugh, though I balked at the $4 he initially asked for and hit him up with $2 instead (we probably could have gone even lower, but I was still laughing).

Ha Tien itself is a small sleepy town that is usually used as the gateway to beaches further southeast. After checking into our hotel, a riot of music exploded right outside. I rushed to see what was going on, and a band of kids dressed in yellow and red were banging drums and cymbals in celebration of the new year. I could tell something was going on downstairs in the lobby, and when I emerged from the stairway, I was greeted with a full on Tet festival dragon dance. During Tet, troupes of children travel around towns putting on these mini-plays which culminate in a “hong bao” in Chinese (red envelope in English) being dropped into the mouth of the giant puppet. Hong bao’s contain money for the children and are traditionally given by older people to children on Tet. The spectacle was intimate and exhilarating.

We dined on Pho and stopped for coffee along the river, then took to the town for some wandering. At every turn, we were greeted with shouts of “hello!” or “happy new year!” from children and adults alike. Everyone wanted to wave or say hi to us in this town that sees fewer Westerners than other Vietnamese towns. It was a lovely diversion and we felt so welcome. We wandered up to the town cemetery, where townspeople thronged to pay their respects. Tet marks a time of coming home for family members and remembering ancestors. We grabbed some pho and BBQ by the river with the rest of the locals for dinner, watching the motos glide by as we ate and relaxed.

[09.01.26] Ha Tien Tet