(written during one or two weeks up
to 29.12.2014)
SUP PEEPS.
MORE VIETNAMESE MILESTONES/EXPERIENCES/THOUGHTS. Except
hopefully by the time I publish this I will have thought of a more
original title... (Edit: Hurrah just did. Sing it to the melody of "12 days of Christmas")
So here goes:
#1. A
few days ago I had my first Authentic Vietnamese Elderly
Person in Rural Setting -experience (AVEPRS)
which was pretty noteworthy. My Vietnamese friend Ph took me to see
her grandmother (or older relative, still not quite sure if
'grandmother' meant actual grandmother or not...).
We
had breakfast of Bun Rieu,
noodles with an exciting assortment of meats in it – I ate and
enjoyed all of them (the tofu was surprisingly nice!) except I let the clotted blood blobs be. Sorry mates.
so many colours! |
After a surprise pic from the lady who made us the Bun Rieu. Westerners are still pretty rare here... |
Then
we drove the 20min motorbike ride into rural BH, down these adorable
little alleys that really
reminded me of rural Russia, and stopped in front of this house with
a big gardeny area outside. There were bars on the gate so it was
very secure, and more bars on the front door of the house, through
which we could see three dogs
which had begun crazy barking.
Ph unlocked the gate, pushed her
motorbike through, and then her grandmother appeared at the front
door amongst the dogs. She opened the door and the dogs bounded out,
barking crazily. “Don't move,” Ph instructed me casually. Oh, ok,
or else what?? I thought, a bit panicky, as the dogs rushed to smell
me, growl and bark.
I never got a green light for
actually moving again, but decided the threat was over after a few minutes. Apparently, around the dogs everyone must be careful and move slowly
so they don't get too perplexed. “So they're not nice dogs?” I
asked. “Oh no,” replied Ph. Ok... Well, Mumsie I will reassure
you they did nothing evil. And they weren't massively big either.
Nice little doggies.
Woofity woof |
Ph introduced me to her
'grandmother'. I successfully managed to introduce myself by saying
“Chàu la Emma”, I am Emma, instead of “Toi la Emma” (what
you'd say to someone your age) or “Em la Emma” (what you'd say to
someone slightly older than you) or “Chi la Emma” (what you'd say
to someone younger than you). Interpreted by Ph, the grandmother was
asking keenly how long I'd studied Vietnamese for since I knew to say
“Chàu”. If only I could impress you with other words I know...
No.
The house was definitely as you would
expect a Rural Vietnamese House to look like. It was dark with many
Buddhas and wooden tables, with a few random exotic fruits on various
ornamental plates, many old pictures of old relatives, a clear bottle
of rice wine on the table along with all the other decorative
objects. The two of them explained to me the different things around the room – the Buddhas, who were in the pictures, the old box Ph's great-grandfather used to keep his cigarettes in...
The cigarette box |
Guarding the custard apples |
The insides of them custard apples (OM NOM) |
We had a look in the garden – the
palm trees and the mango trees (not mango season atm,
unfortunately...) and the starfruit trees and the pepper tree/bush
and the banana flower (or something like that...). I was in complete
awe. Dude I even saw chipmunks/squirrels in the trees!!
Picking fruits |
The only downside was the smaller
wildlife. We didn't spend more than fifteen minutes in the garden,
after which I counted a nice thirty-three mosquito bites solely on my legs. And I had changed out of jeans during the last minute before leaving the house coz I thought a dress would be more 'respectable' to visit them Elderly Vietnamese People...
After the grandmother's place we went
to see some next-door pagodas, which was also extremely fascinating. We did whatever holy thing must be
done in front of Buddha with the incense. You could also do it in
front of various other figures, mostly horses. I contented myself
with photographing them.
With the pagoda lady/guard/motorbike watcher/caretaker |
#2. Motorbiking it
a. To
Saigon. An hour's trip that numbs your bum. Went on the back of McK's
bike, it was the less crazy route (not that many trucks ready to
squish you), and very scenic, but I still think I probably actually
prefer buses just due to the bum numbness (or should I just say
bumbness). My attire was very appropriate – I just need to sort out
a scarf or hood under my helmet and I can completely pass as a local right!?
I kept the man sat near me amused by taking these selfies in the local Lotteria |
b. Xeom-drivers
never cease to fascinate me. I've realised the ones in HCMC are,
well, 'good' – they're reliable, know their way, and don't try and
rip you off. (Well, they do, but as long as you make sure the price
is decided on beforehand.)
BH ones are definitely more dodgy. Like the man
who cackled the whole way from the bus station to wherever I was
going, sometimes stopping to babble to me in Vietnamese, so much so
that I had to gesture/tell him to focus on the road, not turning his
head to talk to me about stuff I didn't have any hope of
understanding anyways.
Or
a few days back I got a toothless xeom driver on his seatless and
foot pegless motorbike. He was lovely, completely harmless, but
definitely a bit crazy. Ah, well, this is what I am looking for in
Vietnam. Experiences.
He even agreed to be photographed |
c. A
new one which I'm adding just today (29.12): MOTORBIKING IT MYSELF.
Yes, I have now driven a motorbike. Yes, on roads. Yes, amongst other
traffic. Yes, driving towards oncoming traffic to make it onto my
side of the road. Yes, to work and back. Oh and yes, managing to park
it! (I even had the sense to take a picture of it parked so I'd
recognise it when I came back for it...)
How
is it you ask? Surprisingly okay. I did have the blink on for a sadly
long amount of time whilst driving around town – now I understand
the confused looks I got from some bikers driving past. But other
than that, nothing worth mentioning.
Now
THAT is a definite milestone.
# 3 A Vietnamese wedding
With the happy couple :) |
Kim, one of the Tas at my centre,
invited me to her sister's wedding. Sounds interesting...
Her friend M in her gorgeous pink
dress (Vietnamese LOVE dressing up and have SUCH amazing dresses!)
picked me up in her car and took me and her husband to the wedding
venue in yet another Rural Setting. A big, like, tent with a mirriad
tables packed with the guests. The bride was absolutely stunning in
her massive, beautiful light-mauve dress that knocked down many
stools when walking past...
Many courses of food were brought to
the table – my favourite was this fish/rice thing. I decided not to
try the seafood. I am actually a lot better with seafood now than
what I used to be, but big, massive, what are they? Prawns? Shrimps?
I don't even know! Anyways, I said no to them big massive (hopefully)
dead ocean wildlife.
It seemed quite an interesting equal divide that
the men drank beer while the ladies drank orange Mirinda. (SO
REFRESHING that day, so much so I had to embarrassingly ask my new
acquaintance M to find a toilet for me on the way back...) Every five
minutesish someone would instigate a 'cheers'-moment, clinking
glasses. I was desperately trying to figure out if I was expected to
join in with each one.
Oh, and: Vietnam is all about karaoke. Karaoke
EVERYWHERE. The guests seem to content themselves to the fact that
you can't actually CONVERSE at a wedding. The music is the focus. Still
didn't completely understand if the people singing were
'professional' or random guests – I know random people can go up
and sing partly due to the astonishingly, er, questionable sense of
musicality some people have (not at this wedding, I hasten to add,
but you hear many a karaoke song at celebrations around Vietnam...), and also, people
kept asking me if I wanted to go up and sing (er, I'm ok for the time being). But then on the other hand, M was telling me that it's mostly the same people
who sing each time.
Obviously the bride gets her turn too! |
#4 And the language...?
I feel like I'm leading a mini
orchestra every time I (attempt to) speak Vietnamese. I just can't
shake the feeling of the obligation that I have to show with my finger which way the
intonation goes of each word I am trying to pronounce...
I've had one or two happy moments
where I've been understood first time, and literally one or two where
someone has responded to me in Vietnamese, expecting my language skills to be more talented than what they are, but most of it is
still just very, very blank looks. For example, I was telling a Vietnamese
guy in Saigon that I'm living in Bien Hoa. He
had no idea what I was saying, even when I repeated it a few times.
Then I took a moment to think about which way the accent goes on
'Hoa' (down), and I said it again, appropriately intonating (is that
a word) it down. “Ah, Bien Hoa!” he said. Yes. Well done.
And that's that for the time being
munchkins!!!
Hopefully will be writing a TINY bit
more often...
It's one of the most exciting
experiences in my life and I am being VERY lazy at recording it... I apologise. (mostly to myself)
TAM BIET & BIZZZZ
EMZY
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