Here we are chilling out in hammocks under natural flowery canopies while sitting on the little porch of our bamboo house on stilts. These are the beautiful home stay accommodations of Ut Hoai and his family in Can Tho town of the Mekong Delta. They call their home Cai Son Orchard. It's our first real homestay and we are all so glad we chose this over a sterile western-catering hotel..
As the van from Ho Chi Min left us at the side of a road, in front of a row of small shops, a guide named Liu joined us on the side of the road. We were told our hosts would arrive in a moment, but it was difficult to see from where they would arrive. Finally, two motorcycles appeared out of the traffic and were used to carry our heavier bags as we all walked down a concrete side walk that became a canal-side lane fringed by houseboats and little homes all along the way.
Stepping through the gateway arch of our new digs, we were welcomed by the curious little faces of a few small children playing cycles on the little drive dotted with flower pots. We followed Liu a few steps down a side path and suddenly found ourselves in a lush garden paradise, completely hidden from the view of the canal lane. This is Mr and Mrs Ut Hoai's family home.
Bamboo huts stood on stilts over ponds and the central courtyard was filled with large pots containing colourful flowering shrubs and trees. There were more small children playing in the courtyard and they all said 'Hallo' peering curiously at us. What beautiful little faces!! I cannot get over how pretty the Vietnamese women are and how adorable the children.
A group of men sharing beer invited Justin for a bottle. Justin would never think of being so impolite as to say no, of course, so he had 2. This group included the owner, Ut, his 2 or 3 son-in-laws and a couple friends. There are 4 generations of family living here. None of them speak English and we don't speak Vietnamese .. this makes for some interesting exchanges. Perhaps this is why they smile so much at us and we at them ... it is the only way to say Yes we like it here, Yeah we're fine, Yes its nice to meet you. I think they are thinking the same thing?
Walking into our new bamboo home on stilts, I was pleasantly surprised to find a complete, if rugged, en suite bathroom to one side of our sleeping area. The bathroom could be considered a 'wet room' in the west as it holds a shower in the centre as well as a handheld shower device (maybe douche?) next to the toilet. In the style of the HaLong bathing environment, we simply shower in the middle of the bathroom and it is all designed to drain and dry out after a little while - though we have had a couple incidents with the rolls of loo paper getting soaked.
On the grounds of this home, there are a few buildings: the main family house, 2 guest houses on stilts over fish ponds, another dormitory-style thatched bamboo hut that can house a number of guests and the odd animal houses a little further back.
The children are so impressed by our new surroundings - especially the pigsty with 2 small pigs who gaze at us with soft eyes wondering what food we're carrying with us, a coop of chickens and geese and then a mini zoo of exotic creatures: a crocodile hovering in a pen, a python sleeping in another, 2 egrets restlessly pacing in a cage. Here in Vietnam, the crocodiles and snakes are food, but we're told these guys are just pets, for decoration.
We all love the Monkey Bridges that cross the small ponds and waterways here. These are easily assembled bamboo or wood bridges made so that there is one log to walk across and another for a handrail - very rustic andd fun and the same time.
There is electicity in our little huts and we have fans, whew!, which blow cool breezes over the sticky sweaty coating that is ever present on our skin. There is even a wifi router hanging precariously from the ceiling of a courtyard hut. We didn't know about its presence until a visiting guide mentioned it, and it was turned on. For better or worse, we are in the internet zone still.
The grounds contain a small orchard of mango, papaya, durian and jack fruits. Ut proudly shows me around the chili bushes and lemongrass, very proud that this home is so productive and they can cover everything from eggs and meat to salads, spices, and fruits for pudding. All of it is organic and all our meals are made from basic ingredients, completely from scratch.
I see Tuy heating up her claypot ovens outside the main house kitchen before every meal. She is an immaculate hostess concealing all the hard work so that it looks as if all these dishes arrived as if by magic. Our table is laid with a silk cloth and gorgeous local hand painted and glazed pottery.
We can hear Tuy and others up from early morning hours, sweeping and tidying the courtyard from fallen leaves and stray dirt. In fact, the property comes alive at about 3 o'clock every morning with the roosters beginning their songs for the day (yes, when very tired, I did consider they may be more useful in a stew!). As we exit our room in the mornings, and head for the breakfast table we cross over the shallow pond and see large fish move about the water, watching us - I'm hoping they don't know it was one of their family on the dinner table the previous meal!
Much of the day, we spend time around the courtyard and our 'home' on stilts. Our boys have taught Ngun, Hoi, Wang, Ge, and Wang (the younger children) how to spin beyblades. Unfortunately, the kids don't want to play the cuthroat fighting versions that my boys are used to, and the're just happy spinning them around. I told the boys that this is because they must to learn to walk before they can run (or kill beybalde runners).
Ben, Ngun (at 6, the oldest of the little children) and I spent a lot of time drawing. I drew beautiful girls in floaty dresses (mind you, no great masterpeices!) for Ngun and she copied them. We brought out tracing paper and pencils and Ngun and Ben worked hard copying out Peter Pan and Aladdin. The smaller children drew on all the pages they could reach (translate, they scribbled on EVERY piece of paper in the pad, no more blank sheets left, to the older children's chagrin).
One morning, we walked through the courtyard, out the gate and into a boat that carried us upstream to where the main Floating Market of Can Tho takes place daily (every single day except the New Year's Day). There at the market, other boats wandered about like us, meandering here and there looking for produce to buy for shops, cafes or personal use. Other bigger boats, carry mass produce of watermelons, onions and squash - you can tell what they are hawking because they hang a few samples from a pole at the front to advertise their wares. Smaller boats with drinks or ready-made food, like Pho soup, zip in and out selling smaller amounts to shoppers. Liu tells us the sellers live on these boats, just inside and do everything from cooking to laundry in there. Children wander about the boats helping their parents to moor up or negotiate sales.
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Death at a Funeral, Vietnamese version
Cycling down the narrow lane between a row of homes and boat houses, we get plenty of curious looks from the locals as we ride by. We've definitely stepped off the beaten path.
The small houses that line the water are on high stilts appear fragile and their weight seems perilously heavy for the narrow wood or bamboo sticks that prop them up at the deep end .. but they are generally well built into a base on the land side. There are men bathing in the canal and women washing clothes as well and children playing all along the way. Everyone seems to stop and look at us as we pass by, some waving Hallo. Sometimes small children run close to us, then dart away behind a tree or a skirt, peering out shyly at us.
We're just returning from an outing into the streets through Can Tho. Now, that, was a Near Death Experience! I couldn't believe the throngs of people on motorcycles, scooters and bicycles that joined us in travelling into town along with trucks and cars. We were literally elbow to elbow with crowds of people and Justin, Andy and I, on our borrowed bikes, not even wearing helmets! It was again one of those Mother of the Year moments. I have to admit to becoming a bit panicked about Andy - flanking him like a mama hen. I stopped to help a guy who was knocked over from his motorcycle, and now moved slowly, looking a bit dazed.
We eventually found a little alley to turn off into - steering away from the 5 o'clock rush hour traffic. The alley led into a small market where we calmed our nerves with some cokes. We were still a spectacle and a couple grandmothers wandered up to us with little babies in their arms, small children peered at us and some called out Hallo. We could see we were part of the evening gossip and entertainment.
So, an hour and a few kilometers later, here we are on the uneven cycle/pedestrian path back to our host Ut Hoia's home. Hot, hot, hot and sweaty, we eagerly looked for signs of some of the earlier canal-side shops selling cokes and beer. Finally spotting to our right a house with about 9 or ten tables and lots of people sitting around drinking and chatting, we pulled up our cycles and men at the entrance directed us down the small drive and showed us where to park our cycles.
Many of the people milling about stopped their chat for a moment and looked over at us, which we are becoming used to here. We smiled back at the welcoming faces and made our way to one of the tables, set with bowls of crackers and biscuits in the centre. Andy reached immediately for a sweet biscuit packet and tore straight in.
A couple ladies wandered over and, in very broken english, asked us what we'd like. Justin said a Tiger beer please. I nodded, that sounded refreshing to me as well and Andy tried to ask what types of sodas there were. The ladies looked a bit confused and we said Bia?, again, trying to make ourselves understood. They said something along the lines of they don't have any beer, but just tea.
At the same time another woman in a gorgeous blue silk pantsuit cacme over -she seemd to have been fetched to deal with us, possibly the person who knew the most english. She asked again what we'd like and Justin said Tiger beer, I repeated Bia (Vietnamese for beer) again slowly. She smiled kindly and repeated No beer, but offered us a tea. I thought What a strange cafe to have no beer or soda! Then she leaned over politely and said, You know, this is a house, a home, everyody here for a death of the elderly lady here.... All of this was a cremation ceremony! As she spoke, a group of the young men at the next table went in the house and lit another bout of incense and began playing drums and other rhythic instruments.
Oh my, as the realisation hit us, did we feel sheepish! We had gate crashed a funeral!! I got up to leave, when she motioned to a group of ice filled glasses of tea brough tto the table just for us. I looked over my shoulder for Andy, but he was halfway back up the drive with his bicycle, looking like he wanted to get out as fast as possible. We motioned him back and made small chat with this lady and another. I couldn't believe how kind and poilte everyone was .. none of them wanted us to feel bad about this. I think how less patient we might be in England or US if an asian family turned up at our funeral demanding beers and soda. These folks are the embodiment of genteel manners and kindness.
We only stayed a few moments and then said our goodbyes, wishing condoleces for the deceased and thank yous for their hospitality. Again, we were the centre of attention as we stood to retrieve our cycles and lead them back up the path (in our little Walk of Shame). We smiled. They smiled. We cycled on.
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The House of The Lovers, L'Amant
Justin, Andy, Sam and I hopped onto motorbikes with our guides (from the family of course) to head off and visit a special home. Riding on the motorcycles was so fun - and felt much safer than in the middle of the notorious Vietnamese traffic on a bicyle!! And this time we all were given helmets, major bonus.
We rode through villages, people wafting about in the heat, selling wares and taking care of children. The world is coloured in layers of Jungle Green - creepers consuming buildings, gardens growing in full force. It seems that life is carved into the green landscape and civilization is secondary to nature here. Nature is always surrounding us. The muddy canals floating by with house boats, the lanes overhung with trees and vines. Sidewalks broken up by roots and eroded by the rains.
As we ride past the canal lanes and through village markets, we are still a focus of curiosity for those around us. Sam sits in front of Ut on his motorcycle with Justin and Andy is behind Ut's son-in-law in the back - we are beginning to look like locals here who pack families of 5 and some groceries onto 1 motorcycle. Still, we are stared, but the kids are getting used to this attention now.
Lin shows us the posters and framed letters from the director of the famous movie, L'Amant (the Lovers). Parts of the movie were shot in this house. The director's words are gushing over the wonder of such a beautiful home and she is very proud. She well should be. It is the largest and most decadently furnished home I've seen in Vietnam. We are only really allowed in the main big room. There are super-high vaulted ceilings and loads of intricately detailed laquered furniture and beautiful glazed pottery urns as well as silk tapestries and pearlescent veneered tiles on the walls. This is a home that shows us a glimpse into the wealth and style of living that would have been here during the last 100 years. This house has survived wars and difficult times. Lin's family had to move out at one point during wartime and have returned to find the home luckily intact.
It is all very impressive, knowing the wars that have taken place here in Vietnam the last 100 years in an almost continual struggles with others nations, including America, France and Japan, that there are still pieces of the old culture that are physically still here for us to witness.
=== the boys dip into trouble ==
As we arrive home from a cycle excursion, I'm confrontd by the sight of 2 soaking wet, scratched, bruised and generally angry boys. Sam and Ben are each eager to tell THEIR side of the story: the gist of which is that they somehow ended up pushing each other off the monkey bridge which overhangs one of the ponds in the premises. Hearing this makes my stomach squirm as I look at the grey-brown stagnant water that not even fish look delighted to be in.
As I hustle them into the cold shower (which I have not been able to get them into for days), I am told that, yes, they did swallow the water, Is that Bad? Ugh. I feel even sicker. Which is not helped by seeing the bloody scratches up Sam's side. I tell them how dirty and bad for you the water probably is, in order to avoid such situations recurring.
Poor Ben ever believing that some sort of deathly disease or situation awaits him around the next corner, turns pale. He spends the next 24 hours declaring that he will eat super healthy and stay clean. And he follows up with intermitten, but long thought out, questions about what kinds of illnesses are in stagnat water? How do they get there? Will any disease kill you and how do you 'fix' someone who is sick? He is now especailly concerned for Sam, who's got pond water in his wounds and also seems to be getting blotchy with red welts - although, I suspect this is more due to the rough housing that got him into the water in the first place or the insect bites that have plagued us all in this heat.
Needless to say, the children are all refraining from pushing each other into the pond now... which still leaves many other 'dry' options of torturing and annoying each other.
==== good bye, vietnam
Our last morning in Vietnam, we rise at 5:30 in order to take a small boat on an excursion down neighbouring waterways and to visit another floatiing market. Booked with Ut Haoi in our combined shaky english-spanish-sign language, we aren't sure what we're in for but well-up for an adventure.
It turns out the boat is lovely and small, with a tiny engine and oars for maneuvering - not the big floating bus that the commercial options tend to offer for tourists. Justin and I are both very happy with this. The children are wondering if the boat offers wifi.
The lady who drives the boat is so talented that, between moving the oars about to steer us, she also accomplishes amazing origami feats with coconut palm leaves and produces crickets dangling from bouncy rods for each of the boys as well as woven bracelets and a bouqet of woven origami flowers and crickets from 2 further coconut leaves. So pretty. I was very impressed! And they say women can't drive - huh, this one drives and weaves origami magic and possibly could cook or do some laundry at the same time!
As she steers us out past the nearby Cai Rang floating market, we get to see it in a whole new way - at just after 6 AM it is really in its prime, unlike our first visit at 7:30 when it was already winding down.
We enjoy the views for an hour down the Mekong as other boats busily populate the waters. There are small single-person fishing boats dotting the waters in all directions as well as huge barges loading up on near the shores and also houseboat and market boatts heading to and from markets. People are washing themselves and their laundry as we go past. On boat houses, the hammocks are gently swinging near the breakfast table and the family dog is up on the nose of the boat helping to steer. There is so much life happening here.
Even with Ut's best efforts, we end up stopping anyway for him to hack away at the huge green tangle that has taken over the rotary blade. Like the woman driver, Mr Hoai is always well-skilled and creative in resolving any problems. In a few minutes he has us ready to go and, fortunately, we're mostly clear of the thick growth soon.
For more pics, here is the 'raw' collection:
https://picasaweb.google.com/105332575943799967078/201404VietnamMekongDeltaCanTho
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