A Day in the Life

Overseas Adventure Travel (OAT) designates one day on each of their itineraries as "A Day in the Life." We have already been in several private homes on this trip and have had a lot of interaction with individuals. But the company likes to make sure such things happen at least once in every tour.

View from our hotel room window.

This hotel is very oriented to Chinese tourists, so breakfast wasn't very appealing to us. When we arrived in the breakfast room at 6:30 a.m. there were a lot of things not even set up yet (even though they advertise that breakfast is served beginning at 6). What there was, was more along the lines of fried rice, noodles, and rice gruel. We ate what we could. Too bad they didn't begin the "day in the life" by taking us to a genuine Vietnamese pho restaurant!

As soon as breakfast was over we departed the hotel, but not by bus. Rather, we went the way most Vietnamese get to work in the mornings: by motorbike. A bike, driver, and helmet had been arranged for each of us. The helmets were too small, but we wore them anyway. This was an OAT rule. Vietnam does have a helmet law, but it is scarcely enforced.

These are not big motorcycles. Most are about 100cc engines, with the bigger and newer bikes sporting all of 110 or 125cc. OAT insisted that the drivers are safe and that the bikes have all basic equipment functioning. From our observations, this would not be universally true in Vietnam.

For example, my driver was scrupulous about using his turn signals (something rarely seen) but he had his rear view mirror twisted to an odd angle that made it clear he didn't use it. Breakdowns are common. My bike developed a flat tire late in the trip. But OAT had hired an extra bike, just for such eventualities.

Our first stop was a house where two women were weaving mats. These women were both in their 60s, but apparently could sit all day in the lotus position to weave!

Next was a public market -- not the kind tourists shop in, but the sort of place locals go to buy meat, fish, and produce. The group was divided into two groups, and each group was given 50,000 Vietnamese Dong (roughly $2.25) and told to buy fruits or vegetables we hadn't yet eaten.

We picked out a couple of zucchini-like squash, and the woman at the stand signaled "five," generally 5,000 Dong, or roughly a quarter. But the guy who was carrying our group's money pulled out his entire wallet and started counting through all of his bills. The woman's eyes lit up, and the price of the squash suddenly became 20,000 Dong (almost a dollar). Special deal for rich Americans!

When we had spent all our Dong, we brought the produce to our guide, then remounted our bikes for a trip out of town, through the rice paddies, to a village called Dien Phu. Here we visited a kindergarten where 30+ four- and five-year-olds and two teachers were anxiously awaiting our arrival.

The kindergarten is government run, but the building is small -- basically a single room -- and it is almost completely surrounded by water. Much of Vietnam is flat and wet (which makes it the rice-growing breadbasket of Asia). This is normally the dry season, but it has been abnormally wet, so the village was mud and puddles everywhere. Thus, there was no place outdoors for the children to play. The playground equipment was only accessible by wading.

Our group brought gifts for the children, crayons, pencils, books, balloons, etc. Some were appropriate, others perhaps not so much. The kids were all over us, climbing up, wanting to be held, holding our hands, etc. Their teachers had them sing a couple songs in Vietnamese, but it was generally pretty chaotic.

Water six inches deep covered the school yard.

After our visit, stools were set up for us on the front step and the principle, using our guide as interpreter, conducted a Q&A about the school and Vietnamese education in general.

No more motorbikes. Our bus had arrived and took us a short distance to a different part of the village. The roads were so narrow, I think we'd have been better off with the motorbikes. We were met by Mr. Tu, who is the chief of the village -- probably what we would call the mayor.

Mr. Tu greeted us warmly, and wanted to show us some of the things that OAT's foundation has done to improve the area. One addition was a raised sidewalk that allowed foot traffic and motorbikes to come and go above the water line. The walkway also was lighted at night, which was a big thing.

We stopped by several homes where people were working on the front porch. Bamboo is plentiful here, and many families make their living creating things from bamboo.

We were also shown the home of a woman who proudly invited us in. It was brick construction with a corrugated steel roof, essentially two rooms plus a tiny indoor toilet. She showed us photos of her previous home, which was bamboo walls and a thatched roof. She was very thankful to OAT for her new house.

We were told that bamboo houses were typical in Vietnam up until 15-20 years ago, but they are rare now. Only the poorest of the poor still live in such structures. We later learned that the woman with the new house is the mayor's sister-in-law. No indication if that helped her get her new house.

Baskets on their way to market by motorbike

We went on to another family that was making bamboo baskets, and some of us got to try our hand at basket weaving. The process was interesting, and the finished products were shipped off to the city to be sold by a middle man.

Finally we reached Mr. Tu's home. It was, as one might expect of the mayor, one of the nicer homes in the village. However, it too was only about four rooms: A sitting room, a sleeping room, a kitchen, and sort of a utility room for storage of important things, like the family china and the motorbike.

The first thing he wished to show his guests, of course, was the family altar. Every home and business has one, but this one was larger and more ornate than most. He wanted to offer a prayer for our visit to Buddha and his ancestors, and incense sticks were passed out to several in the group so that they could join in the brief ceremony.

Mr. Tu's wife organized the women in the kitchen, where they cut up the vegetables we had bought in the market. Mr. Tu took the men to the front of the house and put us to work making the drink.

My job was to crush mint leaves in a mortar with a large stainless steel pestle. Another guy had the job of crushing the ends of lemon grass stalks and slicing the ends into glasses. The stalk became the stir stick. Yet another guy was cutting and squeezing limes, and another putting ice in glasses. Some sugar and 7-Up were added to the lime juice, the mint leaves and a shot of rum were added to each glass, along with the ice and the lemon grass. The result was a "Vietnamese Mojito," and it was pretty good.

The women joined us for drinks, and Mr. Tu delighted in pouring more rum for everyone while our guide came around with the pitcher of 7-Up and lime juice. I think I had about four shots of rum before it was all over, and I was feeling the buzz.

Mr. Tu had been a paratrooper in the ARVN, the South Vietnamese army, during the war. He was delighted to meet the one guy in our group who was a Vietnam vet, and when introduced snapped to attention and gave him a smart salute. He insisted they share in shots of rum.

The meal consisted of far more than the vegetables we had brought, and Mrs. Tu and the sister-in-law were busy serving course after course. It was a good meal.

After eating, Mr. and Mrs. Tu sat for another Q&A with our guide interpreting. Mr. Tu told of his time in a "re-education" camp after the fall of Saigon, and clearly was proud of both his service and the progress that his country has made more recently since the abandonment of pure Communism.

When it was time to go, Mr. Tu walked the group all the way back to the bus and shook everyone's hand individually as we boarded, thanking us for coming, in heavily accented English.

Upon return to the hotel, we decided to stroll along the seaside promenade for a bit. We also walked through the high-end shopping center next to our hotel. Most of the price tags here are in Russian. We entertained ourselves in the aisles of a supermarket and visited a bakery, before returning to our room for a little down time.

Streets are brightly lighted in anticipation of Tet, the New Year celebration.

We walked the opposite direction along the shore at dusk. There were still lots of people enjoying the beach including, improbably, a large group of Buddhist nuns. Then we took a side street through a park with a delightful lighted fountain, and walked back along the parallel street just a block off the main tourist strip. The atmosphere was much different, even this short distance away.

Nuns on the beach.

We had been given coupons for a free drink at the bar on the top floor of the hotel, so we went up to enjoy the view. There was really only a choice of two cocktails, so we enjoyed a "Sunflower," which had absolutely nothing about it reminiscent of sunflowers. After lingering over our drinks, we called it a night.

The lighted fountain.