Off the tourist path in Vietnam

 

I wandered away from the tour - t-shirt saying.

Over the past two weeks, my new daughter-in-law, Nhi, and her family have been hosting my family in southern Vietnam. Her family's homes are in Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC) District 5 and in the rural Dong Thap province about 3 hours west of HCMC. My son, Brady, and his bride had a lovely wedding in HCMC and we stayed a few days before and after the ceremony, This experience has made me realize just how little I've strayed from the typical tourist path despite having travelled extensively.

 

Vietnam's culture is about as different from that of the United States Midwest as one can find. Although we share values about families and education, our tastes and habits and etiquette diverge in many ways. Very little English is spoken by the Vietnamese people (Nhi and her sister Van were our translators) and my family speaks no Vietnamese. Very little signage is in English and few restaurant menus have English translations.

So, when one wanders off the tourist path and one may find...

Lodging. We stayed in a small hotel in District 5 HCMC near the house Nhi's parents own there. About a 30 minute drive from District 1, the main tourist area, it is in a neighbor of, ahem, "love hotels" in which rooms could be rented by the hour or by the day ($14). Despite there being a basket of condoms on the check-in desk, our place was quiet and seemed quite respectable. There were dozens of similar hotel in the area, but I saw no sleazy activity when I was there. The room was comfortable, had hot water, and good wi-fi. Toilet paper was provided - not always the case in hotels in Vietnam. The desk clerk, when not asleep, spoke no English. 

 

More interesting was staying in Nhi's family homes. Both the houses in HCMC and in Dong Thap were narrow, deep buildings 4-5 stories high. The main floor featured an entry way and kitchen area. The home in Dong Thap also had the small jewelry store which the family ran on the main floor. Each floor, accessed by a large open staircase, had a couple bedrooms, en suite. There was no "living room" like we would have. The homes were spotlessly clean and both had housekeepers who cleaned and cooked. Shoes were traded for slippers on entry into the house. I had expected a room down the hall and shared bathroom when I heard we were "staying with the family." Despite the language barrier, we were very comfortable and felt quite welcome. Should Nhi's parents come to the US, I don't know I can show the same level of hospitality were they to stay in my small guest room/office.

Food. I like Asian food. The Americanized versions. On occasion. But off the tourist trail, one experiences Vietnamese food period. The eating establishments in District 5 were street vendors, coffeeshops, and cavernous open spaces lit by florescent lights and concrete floors with small plastic chair around steel tables. Ubiquitous bowls of rice and steaming bowls of veggies and meats in broth were happily consumed by the masses. Street vendors sold bahn mi - French baguettes filled with veggies, meats, and hot peppers. Breakfasts were pretty much like any other meal - vegetables, rice, and meat. Sometimes you could get fried eggs (very sunny side up) and bread. I found breakfasts more of a challenge than anything. Somehow a pork chop, rice, a runny egg covered in hot sauce, and sliced cucumbers just didn't appeal.

Ordering tended to be for the group, with everyone eating from shared dishes. Food from the common platter was whisked (by some) with chopsticks into one's bowl. This worked for when the dishes are not snail, fatty duck, mussels, or eel. Happily, my friend Heidi is a vegetarian and her dietary preferences were honored. We shared. My son and grandsons are much more adventurous eaters than I am.

The markets here sold live fish, frogs, mice (rats), and raw meats. The fish were right off the boat. Fresh vegetable stalls were everywhere. What a difference from our sterile, plastic wrapped meat and produce from Cubs and Hy-Vee!

 

Transportation. In HCMC, the motorbikes (small motorcycles) outnumber the cars 10 to 1. A 100% tax on private cars places them out of financial reach of most Vietnamese. (Nhi's parents used a hired driver, although I am sure they could have afforded a private car.) These swarms of motorcycles ruled the crowded streets of the city and non-aggressive driving etiquette prevailed. Slowly, very slowly, cars and motorcycles turned, changed lanes, merged, and crossed packed intersections without hostility or aggression. Amazing. In a similar fashion, we pedestrians crossed the busy streets by simply crossing the road, with the faith that motorbikes and cars would veer around us. An extended hand to the side, palm out, seemed like a magic way to part the tide of bikes. Like squirrels crossing a street, the worst thing we could do was hesitate!

 

The SE Asian version of Uber is called Grab. We used it extensively. Again, the drivers seemed to have no English, but they nearly all had GoogleMaps on a phone mounted to the dask. Taxis were also plentiful, but when they needed to be used, there was always the uncertainty of whether the driver actually understood were one wanted to go. (Addresses were confusing to me in this city of 1.5 million people.) We carried cards from our hotels that we could give to drivers that helped. 

I don't think I saw a single traffic cop during my stay - and I was told several times that they are corrupt. If stopped, pay them, not the ticket. Not much different from a lot of countries where I have traveled.

 

As I reflect, quite a number of "differences" surprised me. On low door ways, I often bonked head on this 6'4 body. Bills ran from 500,000vd ($25) to 500vd ($0.25) and selecting the right number of zeros could be tricky. Chop sticks were used most places with forks only rarely available. 3G cell data service was better and never unavailable, even in the countryside. Coffee was very strong and often served on ice or smothered in cream and sugar. Very short chairs were the rule. The home of Nhi's cousins had a friendly pet family pig. For the wedding, we dressed in the traditional ao dai shirts (expect for Nhi's dad who wore a regular dress suit.)

 

Now that Heidi and I are back on the tourist trail taking a guided tour of the northern part of Vietnam, we again have access to English speaking waiters and restaurants that sell pancakes for breakfast and pizza for lunch. Our very nice hotel (Topas Ecolodge) definitely caters to western tourists. I pity the Asian tourists to the United States who wish to be accommodated with food, language, and customs similar to their home countries.

Perhap most of all, I appreciate the challenges that Nhi must have faced as a new student in Mankato, Minnesota. While there was a small group of international students at her university and one or two "Chinese" restaurants in our small Midwestern town, how overwhelming it must have seemed to not to get a familiar breakfast, cross the street using a walk/don't walk sign, and shop in a supermarket. Let alone face an environment in which no one speak the native tongue. How I have under-respected the courage of our country's immigrants!

I can't say the two weeks I spent in authentic Vietnam were the most comfortable of my life, but they were among the most instructive. Try it some time - wander off the tourist path...

Oh, no disrespect is meant to the Vietnamese for any of these observations!