Photos: Lyle Such
Writing: Thu Buu
Camera: Canon 5d Mkiv, DJI Mavic Pro
Thanh Pho Ma or the City of Ghosts. With the hard earn money from relatives abroad, family members in Viet Nam compete with neighbors to build the biggest, tallest, and most beautiful tombs for their dead ancestors while living relatives still struggle to survive each day. This is ancestor worshipping gone astray.
The artistic style of broken porcelain mosaic is copied from the Mausoleum of the Emperor Khai Dinh of the Nguyen Dynasty.
The rest of us went back to the hotel where Anh Bi’s friend had the most awesome lunch spread ready for us. After my first small dish of banh beo, I had my suspicions…and then Anh Bi’s friend’s wife described the story behind the restaurant where she had bought our lunch…Oh my goodness! Suspicion confirmed! It was from the very same shop, my favorite eating joint from a decade ago. Imagine that. In my mind, I thought I would be able to find my way back to that small restaurant, but once I saw how much the whole city had changed, I had given up hope. Especially since I didn’t know the exact name of the place. How happy we all were to indulge in such delicious treats after a long day communing with ghosts.
Eating Bun Bo Hue in Hue!
We stopped by a large orphanage ran by Buddhist nuns. The enfant room stole our hearts. The youngest one there was just six days old and had just been dropped off that week. Once held, these babies firmly griped onto our waists and did not want to be put down. How can we blame them? They naturally yearn for the physical warmth of a mother’s love.
This little rascal with the spikey hair definitely had some spunk, toddling from room to room like she was in control of the whole place!
We visited different temples and shrines around the outskirts of Hue with Chi Ha Lon, my mom’s friend who used to live with us. I was surprised at the lack of beggars on the streets in general, but especially along the steps up to Bo Tat Quan Am’s statue and alter. I remember these steps lined with the elderlies trying to sell incenses or begging for money. Chi Ha said the government has cracked down on begging because they realize how unattractive it is for tourists and how detrimental it may be for the tourism industry as a whole for the country.
Khai Dinh Mausoleum. If emperors all over the world, stretching back into ancient history, had stopped worrying so much about their life after death and paid attention to the wellbeing of their citizens, they’d all probably live longer and had happier lives while they were living, and so would everyone else.
A vendor along the river had over 15 types of che! We asked her to mix whichever ones she thought was good together to make a 10 flavor che. Heaven!
Lang Co, an estuary where salty ocean water meets fresh river water.
On the way to Da Nang from Hue, we stopped on top of Deo Hai Van for a quick view. Duong, our driver, who turned out to be related to Chi Ha in some way, introduced us to a new way of eating banh bot lot tran. It’s stuffed into a baguette and seasoned with cilantro and sweet fish sauce. The tour guides and drivers love it because it’s loaded with carbs, very filling and delicious.
Chua Linh Ung is so clean and well kept.
Ngu Hanh Son. On a misty, gloomy day, this place would feel so eerily exciting.
We arrived in Hoi An in time for a sunset walk through the historic part of town looking for a restaurant for dinner. Com ga or chicken rice, the specialty of the area, was recommended to us by our driver and the receptionists at the hotel. After our dinner, which I thought was average, we found some other, more savory street food. Quy was so happy because the rice porridge or chao long, was undeniable the best. At the same stand, Lyle and I found the sweet corn milk to be smooth and refreshing. For the rest of our trip, Quy and I kept looking for another chance to eat chao long, and Lyle and I kept looking for the sweet corn milk. We weren’t so lucky.
We spent some time that evening looking for a tailor for Hang and Ally to get measured and their ao dais made. We ran into a few hurdles with the amount of fabric and the exorbitant price quoted. After a few frustrating attempts to settle on a fair price, we decided to wait until we Saigon. Sure enough, Quy was able to set Hang up with a much better deal with no hassle. Hang and Ally wore their ao dais to a relative’s wedding back in the states. They both looked so lovely.
At night, Hoi An’s Old Quarter is lit up with colorful cloth lanterns zigzagging overhead. Gentle reflections from floating candle-lit paper flowers painted the river adding to the quarter’s festive mood. Hang and Ally were much more successful at buying cloth lanterns to decorate their backyard in Elk Grove. I’m still waiting for an invitation to a backyard party to marvel at these hanging lanterns.
Crunchy and sweet mini-crabs made the perfect late night snack.
In Hoi An, we learned about “Hello People” and how tourists have impacted the lives of the locals, especially within the last five years. Government issued land is not large enough for families to survive, let alone prosper. After months of backbreaking work in their rice paddy, a family might profit about $150USD. In recent years, however, global warming has wreck havoc on rice farmers in Viet Nam. Extensive numbers of hot days and ill-timed floods have ruined many harvests, plunging families into depression and devastation. So thanks to the tourism industry, many locals now have second jobs as service providers, maids, gardeners, and bus boys at hotels—jobs that don’t require much education or English. Also, when tour companies take their customers to visit a person’s property, that person gets compensated for hosting the tour group. Hoi An’s citizens are now reaping the benefits of a booming tourism industry. They happily welcome “Hello People” with open arms and affection.
Co Trinh is 72 years old and tends her garden by herself in order to take care of her blind sister who is in her 80s. She’s had a hard life since her husband’s death when she was just 22. Within the span of five years after that, she lost both of her boys. Yet she still has a positive outlook on life. I love her gentle smile.
Climate change has definitely affected many areas of Viet Nam. As in Mai Chau and the south, Hoi An has had its share of crop failures due to the rise in the number of hot days. Here, another danger appeared just a few years back; toxic rain became a reality. After a rain shower, farmers have to water their gardens to prevent from crop burn. Toxic rain is mainly a result of China’s polluted air contaminating the air quality in the whole region.
We biked through bumpy roads to get to the buffalo guy. He calls his 12 yr. old buffalo “Xe” or car, and treats him like a son, referring to him as “con” or offspring. With this buffalo, he makes a good cushion of somewhere between $500-$700 a month by giving rides to tourists. No wonder he loves this buffalo. I would too.
To move these thun chai or bamboo boats, only one oar is used. From the front of the boat, the oar is swished in a quick but smooth number 8 formation. It’s harder to paddle these bamboo boats than what the talented guides make it look like during their boat dance.
Within these waters, intense guerilla warfare waged during the VN war caught the citizens of Hoi An in a catch 22. During the day, the Southern Viet Nam army controlled the streets, but at night, the Viet Congs would wreck havoc and kill those who were aligned with the Southern Army. Many citizens had to secretly help both sides in order to stay alive.
Tuan successfully threw the fishing net using the techniques the fishermen demonstrated. Great form, especially the kick up with the back leg.
Larger fishing nets were attached to poles. We had to use our feet to turn the wheel that reeled in the ropes and raised the poles. We had to peddle quickly before the fish realize a change has occurred and swim out of the net. I tried to peddle, but it was pretty difficult to do it fast. There were two small holes in the net. The fishermen in bamboo boats would get right under each hole and shake the fish into their thun.
