05 February 2013

South East Asia Adventure | Fishing and other craziness in Hoi An


This post was written by Margaret.
“Give a girl a fish; you have fed her for today. Teach a girl to fish; and you have fed her for a lifetime”
Hoi An was a delight – partly because of our very entertaining guide and part because we were able to participate in Vietnamese life rather than just observing it as you feel you do most of the time when you are a tourist. 
On our first day in Hoi An we took a trip on the river that started with a basket boat ride out to the fishing boat.


As you can see, Nguyen our guide – though vertically challenged or perhaps because of it – had a great sense of humor, and loved to entertain. (And his wife does laundry. Travel Tip: don’t send white clothes to a hand laundry!)

We loaded onto Captain Cook’s boat and were greeted by the captain (cook) and two crew members – that’s a 2:1 ratio of crew to client! Not bad service. Here is the crew and Carol on the boat.

Views back to the beach and of other boats in the harbor were wonderful: bright greens and turquoise, fishing boats of all shapes and sizes.   I think our first stop was to see a beautiful house constructed of bamboo and other local woods with all the furniture hand made by the owner. They served us tea on the porch  - using  a teapot and cups also I think of bamboo (was that right Carol?) then we walked through the village to another dock where the boat picked us up again. Our guides had made presents for us.


Then starts the fishing.

There are many ways to catch fish. Very large nets, tied to four large poles in the water, connected to an apparatus on shore that you climb on in order to pump these pedals that shorten the ropes that attach the net to the four poles, thereby raising the net from the water.  If you are lucky there are fish caught in the net.  You pluck them out one by one! and throw them in a bucket.



Then there is the net you throw from the boat. Harder than it looks!  
How it is supposed to be done.

Carol caught on very quickly to the net throw though we could not have survived on her catch that day.

But no problem, Captain Cook lived up to his name. Back on our own boat again we sat down to one of the best meals of the trip. Several kinds of shrimp, spring rolls of course fresh out of the pan, egg pancake also with shrimp, calamari, rice crackers, a great Larue beer, and a picture is worth a thousand words. It was just all so fresh – and the captain had brought all the ingredients with him in a cooler and cooked everything on this boat that didn’t even have an obvious galley. 


I can’t leave this post without mentioning the artistic talents of our guide who was with us throughout Hoi An, the trip over the pass to Hue including the marble mountain and around Hue. In addition to providing us with an impromptu ride to town with both of us on the back of his motorcycle, Nguyen loved (old) pop music and loved to sing and when we met he immediately began humming a tune that we thought sounded familiar but the words didn’t seem quite right.  Before he left us in Hue – which was several days after the fishing trip, we begged for a recordable rendition of the song, so here it is.



02 February 2013

South East Asia Adventure | Rice papers and bomb craters - the Cu Chi Tunnels


The Cu Chi tunnels were not high on my list of places to visit – maybe its collective american guilt or something, but they were on the itinerary so we spent the hours on a bumpy ride to see them.  The park itself is a bit kitchy but you can’t help but take a shaky breath when you see the bomb craters and the innovative human traps and imagine thousands of soldiers running a war and living underground for months on end.  



The highlight of the park though was seeing a woman methodically and patiently frying rice water on an outdoor stove to make rice papers, rolling them off the pan on to something like a sushi roller, spreading them out carefully on bamboo pads and finally setting them out to air dry.  Just like making crepes I guess but these are tissue paper thin and so light they must float, attributes I have yet to find in the rice papers bought in Santa Cruz, and I've tried two different brands so far.

South East Asia Adventure | The long trek from Luang Prabang Part 2


Lee warned us that the long climb to the next village would be steep and hot. “We’ll just go slow”, he said. So with shirts off, hats on, and water in hand, we headed up the road that would take us on to Pha Peung. I criss-crossed the foot-deep ruts to get out of the sun, but there was no shade anywhere. The climb was unrelenting: this is when flat feels like downhill and you find yourself nearly running on the downhill from the effort you’ve been putting in on the way up. But I’ve learned, there’s only one way to conquer a seemingly impossible climb: left foot, right foot, left foot.... This pedantic, persistent mantra alternated with the sound of my YBR instructor, Pearl. Her voice in my ear was a constant “heel first, put down 5-4-3-2-- now your big toe, push off…heel first, now your baby toe-4-3-2 and 1…push off…But how do I push off when my steps are barely inches apart?  “Breathe”, I could hear her saying. “Inhaling is natural, emphasize the exhale”.  So I pushed that air out of my lungs as hard as I could (Thank you, Pearl!)…left foot, right foot.... The wide expanse of the valley lay before us and it was good to stop and take it all in, as we continued up, up, up step-by-exhausting step.



Ban Pha Peung looked more orderly up there in the high country and we found rest and relief on a bench in the shade outside a one-time homestay. I’m quite sure the visitors to this village normally come from the other end of the road; the way we would go down (and down, needless to say). They were obviously more accustomed to visitors and largely ignored us, except for these three young girls who watched us from afar.



Ladies' day at the community shower
Riding double
Women and girls took turns at the open-air community shower (water pumped from the stream, we think), while others wove bamboo roofs to replace the old ones on their houses before the rain comes. A young boy had fashioned himself a 3-wheeled go-cart of sorts and was tearing down the hill on his make-shift death machine; we were surprised later to see him climbing back up with his buddy, apparently unscathed (to tempt death once more?).
 


No, not what you think. Just getting a little respite from the sun.
Sometimes the way out from a long, arduous hike is as tough as the way in, and this would be no exception. When Lee pointed to our destination across the valley about two minutes in, we knew it would be 2 hours of knee-breaking pain.  We finally arrived at Ban Huay Lo, where after more pictures of giggling little girls, our driver picked us up and, despite our certainty that he was going to run someone down on the highway, we made it safely back to our hotel. Home, a shower, lattes at Jubo, dinner, the market…another day. We’ve put this one at the top of our top-10 list!


 

South East Asia Adventure | The long trek near Luang Prabang Part 1



The long trek began with a 2-hour gentle climb up to Ban Mokchong (midlands H’mong) and Pha Peung (highlands H’mong), both outside LP. Our guide, also H'mong, is from a village near the Chinese border and we concluded that he is very much a “country boy”. Young (“22 is coming”), dark skinned, with legs like bamboo sticks, he mainly guides trekking, cycling, kayaking, and, “when I have to”, some rock climbing. We were like a day off for him!
Lee helps me across the river

  As we trekked up, the river wound its way down, so that we had to repeatedly cross over. Each time. Margaret, who wisely wore Tevas, cooled off her feet in the stream, while I, in my hiking shoes, slid precariously on the mucky rocks, with Lee, Margaret, and occasionally a bamboo pole for balance. Although at times the rising temperature and my rapidly beating heart begged a cooling off, I managed to avoid an unplanned dip in its cool waters. 





We met an occasional villager and a tractor on their way down, but for the most part the hard-packed red clay trail was ours alone. The air was clean, and we breathed deeply as the mountains and expansive valley emerged from under the fog. Except for the occasional moan from water buffalo and laughter from children playing in the river, we reveled in the silence.



After perhaps 2.5 hours of gentle uphill climbing we arrived in Ban Mokchong. It was lunchtime, and we were ready for the picnic promised by our guide. (He’d picked up something on the street in LP before we left.) As we walked into the village we were greeted by a dozen or more children, three or four dogs and as many black snorting pigs, and of course, chickens.  While Lee prepared a place for us, and set out our lunch on freshly-cut banana leaves from a nearby tree, we visited with the women and children.



At first she wasn't sure about my camera!


















An older woman, perhaps seventy (okay, not so old) immediately brought out her friendship bracelets for us to buy (3 for 1500 kip—about 4 USD). Then, having looked us up and down, tried on Margaret's sunglasses, to the laughter and gaiety of all. Of course then everyone wanted to try them! Our cameras soon became the main attraction. The children wiggled and squirmed like those fish in the tubs in the Mekong, to get into each picture.  And when they saw their faces in the LCD, the looks of amazement, wonder and awe was inspiration for the next photo! 


I think she's ready for the runway!
Is that me?












Lee served up a whole fish, crispy on the outside, and tender and delicious on the inside, wrapped in banana leaf. Individual styro boxes were filled with chicken fried rice, and there was hot sauce in a baggy. There were apples for dessert, and bottled water. We settled down at the three-cornered wooden table, neatly tucked into the shade of the trees, and while the dogs and pigs continued to mull around, the children politely backed away and watched until we finished. The barbecued fresh fish was delicious, and by the time we’d finished picking the bones with our chopsticks there wasn’t much left for the dogs. 


Sometimes it’s hard to see beyond dirty faces with runny noses, half-dressed babies, torn clothes and bare feet, ramshackle huts, and an absence of order and control to find instead the joy in moments like this. We were welcome visitors, and they spared nothing to get a close up view of us: two curious-looking, near-identical women with white hair, dark glasses, and instant photos. We were overwhelmed by their smiling eyes, curiosity, playfulness and laughter.