Hoi An

Day 17: A Dragon on Parade

Our last day in Hoi An was rather uneventful, that is until we walked through the market…

iphone day 17.JPG

We camped out for a bit in the morning drinking coffee and blogging, I caved and sprung for the “Buddha is my Om Boy” t-shirt I had had my eye on since we first walked past, we shot some video for Andrew’s project (soon to come on BeCarefulYourHead.com!) and then we walked through the market. On our way to the market, we were asked at least a dozen times if we wanted to go for a boat ride. One captain tried to persuade us by informing us that it was “Happy Hour” as if that should make us climb aboard! I responded, “If I wanted to be on a boat, don’t you think I would be on one by now?” He stared back at me blankly and said “Happy Hour?” again.

I was really fascinated by a wood carver who made faces out of what looked like tree roots. Clever. I watched outside, but didn’t go in for fear I would want to buy one (or three). Maybe next time… We strolled through the food stalls on our way back to our hotel to grab our bags for our overnight bus to Nha Trang and then heard some loud drumbeats coming from within the covered market building. We decided to investigate. What sounded like a militia drum, I expected an army, or something more… intimidating perhaps? Instead, we stumbled on of couple of boys pounding away at a drum and one magnificent dragon dancing in and out of the stalls. For what I’m assuming was for the Fall Harvest Holiday, known as chuseok in Korea, but known as what, in Vietnam, I’m not sure. The boys quickly surrounded us, and then asked for money when they were done. I put a few small Vietnamese bills in one of their hands and then the women of the market shooed them away.

As if crashing a Vietnamese wedding wasn’t enough of a reason to love traveling, stumbling upon a dragon parade seemed to drive the point home. It quite possibly became my favorite part of the trip in that instant. And I knew, obviously, I needed my own dragon.

Day 16: The day we crashed a Vietnamese funeral AND a wedding

We met Mr. Phong at the restaurant he works at in Hoi An. He seated us, made small talk, and then brought out two journals full of testimonials of visitors he had taken to his village. He asked if we had motorbikes and were interested in visiting his home to see “real Vietnamese life.” We told him we had plans, but would consider it. The testimonials in the book were very complimentary (as if someone would write something bad there) but the internet seemed to agree, and so we decided to spend half of the day with Mr. Phong in Thanh Quit, his village about thirty minutes outside of Hoi An via motorbike. He met us outside our hotel in the morning, and off we rode.

When we arrived to his house, his wife came immediately outside to greet us. She didn’t speak any English, but her hands wrapped around mine in a way that you just know it doesn’t matter that you don’t speak the same language. They welcomed us into their front entrance/what felt like a dining room, poured us some cold water, and Mr. Phong launched into lesson on the Vietnam War. It was fascinating, even though at times hard to understand. I felt a little like I was back in school again, which is a lovely feeling (for me at least) but a coffee had I woken up in time would have benefited my concentration greatly. Mr. Phong fought for the South in the war. His uncle and cousin fought for the North. Other family members fled to the States. The most fascinating part for me was that he said there is no ill-will between family members of different sides. I have a hard enough time with my family member’s conservative political views, and that’s without the VietCong involved!

After we learned more about his “re-education” and what life was like farming under Communist rule, (I liked it when he made an example out of me and Andrew. I was the good farmer, who worked hard, took short water breaks, and yielded a good score at the end of the year. Andrew was the lazy farmer. He took really long water breaks, and didn’t get a high score, therefore didn’t get a good stipend at the end of the year.) He gave us a tour of his house. It was two stories, but there was only one room, and one balcony area for the house altar. Second floors are necessary because the first floor gets flooded every year. He pointed out water lines to prove it.

Technically, Mr. Phong is a registered farmer. Andrew and I debated

1. How much he makes from doing these tours on the side.

2. How much he greases others’ palms when he does these tours on the side.

3. How much money he possibly hides away, because it didn’t seem like he was living in the lap of luxury, despite that he has to make far above the Vietnamese average by doing these tours on the side.

He took us across the street where his neighbors run a “happy water” (rice wine) distillery. It was as if we were wrapped in a blanket of rice wine the air was so thick. Rice pulp lay out on a tarp, barrels were full of the happiest of water, and pigs around back slurped up excess water (I’m not exactly sure how that works and the pigs don’t get drunk noshing on the stuff) that was not needed for the wine. Mr. Phong dipped a pitcher into a barrel and the tiny taste I had was enough to put some hair on your chest! Wooooweee!

On our way to the market, we crashed a funeral (which felt a little awkward) and once we were at the market, we learned how to properly chew an areca nut wrapped in a betel leaf. We had seen this a lot in Burma. In Vietnam however, we learned that only the women chew this, and only the men smoke. I thought it might be interesting to try, until the woman smiled, revealing a mouth full of black teeth. Hmm, nevermind!

(Hey Mom, I thought you might appreciate seeing the Vietnamese have Kubotas too!)

We walked through other houses, watched some women pull tobacco leaves off of the stem, peaked into a kindergarten, paid our respects to the monument that had names of those from the village who died in the war on it, and then… we crashed a wedding. It was… intense. Music was several decibals too high. Everyone was staring. Men were posing for pictures, asking me to dance, then asking me to marry them, then apologizing to Andrew. At first, I was handed a small loaf of bread on a stick, with a piece of gelatin on top. When the gelatin slipped off the stick (oh darn!) one gawker guest quickly replaced it so I was not to miss out on this culinary gift. (oh… darn…) We were invited to stay a bit longer to have a drink. “But just one drink!” another guest insisted. “You drink one drink! Only… maybe… ten minutes… not drunk like…” and he motioned to his friends. “Right, Of course! We will only have one drink, and then we’l go!” Andrew and I insisted. “Yes! Yes! One drink, and then…” he said again. “We’ll leave!” we assured him.

We walked out of the wedding, thanking everyone, we may have agreed to see them again tomorrow, and then we looked at each other wondering what on earth had just happened. Back at Mr. Phong’s house, his wife cooked us this amazing meal, and then we climbed onto our motorbikes to head back to Hoi An.

Day 15: Suit up!

Back at Mr. Xe’s in the morning, Andrew was pleased with the linen shirt and got some more measurements done for a suit… So Andrew could Suit up! One of my favorite students at Eonju was (is still, I’m sure) obsessed with How I Met Your Mother. Any and all jokes and/or expressions Barney makes makes me think of you, Seungyoun!

After Mr. Xe measured him, we were led down the street for a second measurement. Surrounded by boys on sewing machines, I amused myself by taking their picture. I played up being bored, waiting on Andrew, so they seemed amused when I began photographing and showing them the pictures (on the LCD screen) that I took.

We biked it to the beach. We got harassed by more vendors. We ate more bahn mi. We ate more cao lau. And then I saw rompers outside of a tailor shop on our way home. (I’ve developed a little habit of calling wherever we may be sleeping that night “home.”) At only $15.00, I figured it was worth it to have for the trip and got my own measurements while Andrew played with the shop dog, Rabbit.

Day 14: “You come into my shop?”

First order of business in Hoi An: find a tailor. Second order of business in Hoi An: decide what you want to get made. If you have the money (and the room in your bags) this is super fun. But, I should probably mention I have an excellent seamstress for a mom among many other excellent seamstress aunts and cousins in my family. From poodle skirts for dance recitals to wedding gowns, my family has got it goin’ on. I’ve been a bit spoiled, and walking through Hoi An simply made me want to sew with my mom more than settle on a certain print/fabric and be able to strip down, try on right in the middle of sewing to make sure the fit was just right. It’s a little bit more of a process in Hoi An. My advice is to get to Hoi An knowing exactly what you want. It’s easy to get railroaded into getting things made that you don’t really need (or maybe even want) once you get there. If you bring pictures and have an idea of what fabric you want, you’ll be more likely to leave with something worth your while (and money)! Nevertheless, it’s still fun and it’s definitely worth it for the boys who want nice suits made on the fly (and if you go to the right place; on the cheap).

Finally (stomach issues be gone)! My first Vietnamese coffee of the trip. My favorite is the white coffee- with condensed, not fresh milk. Try it. It’s delicious.

iphone day 14_1.JPG

Andrew can’t exactly buy off the rack like I usually can. He gets nearly half (maybe more) of his wardrobe tailored to fit his slim/long fit. He was on a mission to get a summer suit made, so I tagged along to all of the shops, and sometimes pretended I was going to get something made as well. That is, until they told me that an above the knee A-line cotton dress (without lining!) would cost $75.00! No. way. ThuThuySilk, you are a rip-off. Andrew was less than impressed as well when the first few shops we stopped in all priced men’s dress shirts at $38.00. His research online suggested he could get just as good of quality for a lot lower.

And then we went to Mr. Xe. Maxi dresses were only around $50.00 (which I thought was a good indicator of price) and men’s dress shirts were $18.00. Our aggressive salesgirl kept pushing for Andrew to buy a suit, but we decided to see how the shirt turned out first before he invested in a suit. Mr. Xe came out of another fitting, climbed up on a stool and went to work measuring Andrew. By this point, I was a little worn out from the “You come into my shop?” “You want a dress?” “Come in my shop!” and my ultimate favorite: “Buy something.” so I was intrigued when Mr. Xe (a man of little words) went to work measuring and then sent us on our way. I suppose he has a shop full of girls who are on the aggressive side for him, but he was a lovely break from it all. I’m also a huge fan of Project Runway and as Andrew was being meticulously measured, I imagined what it might be like if Mr. Xe was on the show.

Tailored out, we grabbed a Bahn Mi sandwich to share across the street and then meandered around until finding 1. a pair of hippie pants-that-turn-into-a-romper that I had to have, and 2. a row of cao lau noodle vendors along the river. We sat down on some teensy stools and ordered a couple of bowls. OhMyYum. I’ve never been a huge fan of mint in my food, but this addition to the noodle dish was perfect. It also didn’t help that we also got a dish of limes and a jar of chili sauce to add to taste. “I think this is would be my 회덮밥 (a raw fish salad with red pepper paste and rice meal that we ate at least once a week in Seoul) if we lived here.” Andrew said. I agreed, but didn’t want to talk about 회덮밥. (I miss it so!)

Day 13: Hello again, Hoi An!

Our bus from Hue to Hoi An was a short 3 hours. Painless. Painful on the other hand was walking back and forth trying to figure out where we were, and where the hotels were. We’ve grown accustomed to the system of getting on a bus, and getting off at the bus driver’s restaurant, mini-stop, or hotel of choice. You know, the place where he gets a little kickback from the owners for bringing them business… We usually make it a point to walk across the street to buy our water and snacks, or in this latest case- Andrew stayed outside with our bags, while I checked out a room, before telling the girl that maybe we’d be back. It was dark, and the hotel seemed far from the city center. I suggested that we walk closer towards the center. Hoi An is my favorite city in Vietnam. I had a really great time with friends I had made traveling through last time, and was excited to show Andrew around.

I didn’t even mind lugging my backpack towards the center and felt so grateful Andrew didn’t mind either. I told him so, and told him that I thought he was a really great travel partner. That is, until I asked where we were going, and realized he had no particular hotel in mind. Homeboy spent an hour looking online and through Lonely Planet for places to stay the night before. Our throw down (not really) on the street went a little something like this:

me: Why would you spend an hour looking at places and not even pick one out?

A: I don’t know, I thought you would know where to go… You’ve been here before…

me: FOUR YEARS AGO!

A: Well, it seemed like you just wanted to walk around…

me: With my backpack? Seriously? No! I never want to “just walk around” with fifty extra pounds on my back! Never. No. Seriously?!? No, I never want to do that.

A: … So do you still think I’m a great travel partner?

me: No.

And so we walked. I checked out another hotel, but wasn’t satisfied and told Andrew we could find a better one. Namely, one with a swimming pool, like the one I stayed at last time. And then… magically… we rounded the bend, and the next hotel was the very same one I stayed at four years ago! I hiked up to the fourth floor to check out a room, told the girl we’d take it, and flopped down on the bed.

A: Aren’t you so glad I’m such a great travel partner, I mean, it’s a good thing I found this place.

me: I said you weren’t. Remember? And you didn’t even find this place.

A: No. You think I am. You said it in a moment of sincerity. I know you meant it.

me: I’m getting another room.

Obviously I didn’t. Although, at $12.00 a room, it wouldn’t have been the worst thing. We went for a swim and then walked through town. The amount of tailor shops has nearly tripled (or so it felt) but the relaxed town had not lost its charm.

After a busy and loud Hanoi, it was so nice to stroll through the town, restaurant hop, journal, and people watch. It felt good to be back, despite having a not so great travel partner. I tease, but after I attempted to “fact-check” our conversation with him, he would like me to mention that he disputes the above account (even though I’m totally right) and he didn’t appreciate the voice I used when I read his lines of the dialogue. (Casey, you would have appreciated it!)