2778 Four on a bike, no problem! As you can see in the background, US soda is popular here.
2783 Rice paddies never change. You can see the raised edge of the paddy that was such a wonderful place for booby traps.
2812 The tiny tots room at the kindergarten. I’ve never seen so many kids that age with exactly the same expression on their faces.
2813 Here’s the little girl flashing me the peace sign. Historically I’m not a big fan of that gesture but it’s lost its connection to the cowardly, worthless, drug-addled degenerates who started it so it doesn’t bother me anymore.
2814 Diana with her new buddies. Notice that they’re wearing the orange number 3 stickers identifying our tour.
Oct 25 – At Sea. We are now exactly on the other side of the world from TX, 12 hour time difference. Last night we turned back the clock for the last time. From now on when time changes it will be 1 hour forward except for the crossing of the dateline when we won’t move the hour hand but we’ll move the date back one full day.
The ship’s cast had another new show Jazz, Blues, Rock & Roll. HAL has updated their shows and they have all been new this trip. First time in a couple of years. This show was very good. As I’ve mentioned before they have 5 singers who all dance quite a bit and only 4 dancers, down from 6. Usually by the second show I’ve picked out my favorite dancers and singers but this trip not so much. We’ve seen four shows already and I still can’t pick a favorite dancer because they are all excellent. Quantity may be down but quality is way up. The same is true for singing, although I have been able to pick two as my co-favorites. With the singers, the moment I think I’ve got my favorite figured out, the other one has a song she just shreds and it’s back to the drawing board.
Oct 26 – Nha Trang, Vietnam. We stopped here last year and did all the cultural visits. I could go back to the Cham Towers but we decided to head into the countryside a bit. It will be interesting to see what my reaction is to wide open spaces here. My last visit, the first since 1967, we stayed in the city visiting religious and cultural sites.
Riding out of town was pretty much unchanged from 1967, lots of motorbikes not many cars, and seems like fewer bicycles than years ago. Seeing a family of four riding a single motor scooter is not uncommon. One guy was texting while driving his motor scooter. I didn’t much care but I don’t know how his passenger felt about it. Lots of cafes and restaurants selling pho (noodle soup) and bun (cold vermicelli noodles), two of my favorites but absolutely no US fast food chains have gotten to Na Trang. Both pho and bun are fast food so there’s really no need.
Our first stop was out in the rice paddies. We caused quite a stir with our tour bus stopped at an intersection that was the meeting of two roads raised above the flooded paddy level. People, mostly on motorbikes but some in cars and on bicycle, gawked at all these large white people walking along the road to take pictures of the paddies. They have three rice harvests in Viet Nam and the one for this time of year is almost over. Most fields have been harvested and not yet replanted. It was easy to see the dirt berms bordering the paddies where it was so dangerous to walk. The VC noticed that GIs were hesitant to wade in the flooded paddy so they put booby traps and land mines on the raised walking path that also served as a flood berm so the farmer can flood the field. Of course, the GIs quickly learned to walk in the paddy not around the paddy. At least those who were fond of their legs did. Of course, in the paddy they placed patches of pungi sticks that would penetrate not only your boot but your foot as well. The wound was serious because the water in the paddies usually was contaminated with human waste. In the dry pungi traps they smeared the sharpened bamboo sticks with fecal matter so the wound would get infected. The military quickly began lining the soles of the jungle boots with aluminum to prevent them from piercing your feet. I still have my last beat up pair around somewhere.
They were not standard Air Force issue but I occasionally had to spend time in the field so I acquired some by “strategic relocation”. In other words, I stole some from the Army. This is also known as ‘The Midnight Supply’ and ‘Five-finger Requisition’. Whatever you call it, it’s a way of life in a combat zone. You get what you need however you have to. I don’t believe the military cared much because the boots were very distinctive and easy to tell from the Air Force jump boots we were issued. I know my squadron commander didn’t care because he commented on them and had me explain how I got them. I think he wanted all the medics who went into the field to have them. After I told him how I got them he just laughed, said he admired my initiative and walked away. I was not that surprised when he later looked me up when he needed something the Air Force wouldn’t supply him. How an officer could rise to the rank of Colonel and never be exposed to military bartering I don’t know. I guess that’s why God made so many enlisted personnel. Someone’s got to get the work done no matter how hard the military might make it. Actually since the Colonel was also a doctor, I guess it’s not that hard to understand. Doctors are the least ‘military’ officers you’ll ever meet. MASH, the movie not the insipid agenda driven TV show, had them pretty much nailed. Even down to the Frank Burns and Hotlips Hollahan characters. Every now and then you’d encounter a doctor who thought he was George Patton reincarnated. Everyone pretty much ignored them and they were usually not very good doctors either.
Yeow!! Back to touring. I guess the paddy experience got me thinking more than I expected it to. After taking a few pictures of the area we got back on the bus and drove to a hundred year old farmer’s house. To be totally honest I was not that interested in a 100 year old house. I spent a lot of my childhood in a 250 year old found-stone colonial farmhouse. It’s got to be a lot older than 100 years to grab my attention.
However, the house had a small patio area attached to it that was partly furnished with carved iron wood tables and chairs. I don’t know if you’ve ever handled iron wood but it’s appropriately named. The small stools were heavy, the chairs really heavy and the tables unmovable. Well, you could move them but it took a lot of effort. I noticed that the tables were set with a tray of small teacups, a package of napkins, a plate of small bananas and a coconut. For old times’ sake I wanted a ba-ba-ba and luckily the lady had one for a dollar US. Ba is Vietnamese for three and 333 is the local beer of this area. It’s good but mostly it’s nostalgic. I remember when we were here last year that tasting it brought back so many memories of people and events from 40 years ago. I was interested to see if it would have the same effect on me this time. It didn’t. I think I was a little more disappointed than relieved but it was a mixture of the two seemingly diametrical emotions.
The little (about 4.5 inches long) bananas had light green skins but I’ve encountered this particular species before and they don’t really get yellow until they’re riper than I like. They were absolutely delicious and very sweet.
The coconut was a bit of a mystery until I noticed that it was cut about an inch from the top. When you took the lid off it had been hollowed out and there was a teapot had been fitted inside it. I probably should have mentioned that it was the coconut’s exterior husk that had been used not the fruit. Very clever and I’m sure the husk makes a great insulator. The tea inside the teapot was very hot.
It’s a beautiful day, sunny, warm and humid. Much better than last time we were here, cloudy, raining and even hotter and more humid. It was as though the weather was trying to match my emotions back then. It’s doing a great job of matching them today as well.
If I had been feeling down the next stop would have cured me. We went to a kindergarten. Kids are great everywhere! When we arrived they were having lunch. They were seated around tables with steel bowls of rice with meat and veggies in it. Some of them were curious about the strangers, others were a little intimidated by all the visitors and some just kept eating as though nothing strange was going on. Most were mildly interested. It’s odd to think that most, if not all, of the parents of these kids weren’t even alive during the war. Sometimes I feel so old.
Diana loves to mix it up with the kids. In true oriental fashion, no shoes are allowed inside the school so Diana took hers off and dove in. The kids loved it. Well most did. The smaller kids didn’t know what to make of the whole thing. They just looked on with curiosity as we snapped our pictures. The uniformity of expression in one of my pictures is amazing. I motioned one little boy to come to the door and see himself in the picture I took. On seeing himself he ran back into the room about 5 feet turned and started laughing. You just never know what kids will do. In that same vein, one of my fellow travelers took her tour sticker from her shirt and stuck it on one of the little girls. That started a rash of little girls coming up to you and pointing at your sticker, their way of asking if they could have it. I actually had trouble finding a little girl without a sticker to give mine to (dangle, dangle, dangle). The first few who asked already had one. In the older kids room one little girl flashed me the victory sign as I took the picture.
Our walk through the local market was a bit of a flashback. We didn’t hit a market last time we were here. Some of the stands were on a very short raised concrete platform, some were slightly raised wooden tables and others were tall wooden tables. Regardless of the type of platform for the vendor almost all of them were sitting cross legged at the same level as their wares. Fish, meat, vegetables, fruit, clothing and flowers were all well represented. Wisely the fish vendors were on the short concrete platforms, easier to wash off. There was no noticeable odor in the market but that’s not unusual in this area. The market had no walls, just a roof and columns so air passes through easily. Most people shop every morning for that day’s food so, since the vendors have a good idea of what’s needed for each day, the inventory turns over frequently. Not so critical with fruit or vegetables but important for meat and critical for fish. As you would predict under this system when we arrived at 10:30am the inventory of fish was very low.
I did a quick lap of the market and then returned to the street to see what was going on. I watched as 5 young ladies approached a motorbike. I was interested to see who was leaving. Turned out that all of them were. They had a strict boarding order. The eldest, a lady of about 30 got on and took control of the bike. The second smallest got on in front of her. Next the smallest and youngest got on behind her, followed by the second tallest with the tallest and oldest girl riding in the back. I was hoping they would turn onto the main road so I could get a good picture but instead they crossed the main road and headed into the small street on the other side. I did manage to catch a quick shot of them before they disappeared. They were packed so close together that the second last rider had to hold her cone shaped straw hat over her head with one hand. There wasn’t room for it at head level. A man leaving the building supply vendor was carrying 2 twelve-foot lengths of 4-inch PVC pipe over his shoulder. Not really a great feat of strength but he was riding a motorbike at the time. Rough road, lots of traffic and riding a motorbike one handed carrying 2 long pieces of PVC, not my idea of a good time. I had to laugh at myself for thinking, “He doesn’t have a red flag on the back end of the pipe.” as though that was his biggest problem.
Our next destination was a mat weaving shop; actually small covered patio would give you a better idea of what was there. This was a generational shop. Grandma was sitting in a hammock behind the weavers watching to make sure they were living up to her standards. The mother was sitting to the side with four piles of straw, each a different color, natural, green, red and yellow and the daughter was sitting on the mat controlling the compacting board. I’m sure this piece of the loom has a name I just don’t know what it is.
The loom they use reminds me of ancient looms used in this part of the world. Essentially there are two thick, 12-foot bamboo poles suspended horizontally about a foot off the ground and 17-18 feet apart. The warp strings are tied between these two bamboo poles. I’m not sure exactly how they start applying the weft strings but once the new mat is complete enough to sit on the lady controlling the board that’s used to compact the weft sits on a small mat atop the mat she’s weaving. The board has two parallel lines of holes in it offset from each other by about an inch or so. When they are setting up the warp they thread every other string through the hole on the opposing row, sort of like shoe laces.
The weaving process goes very quickly for these ladies. The daughter tilts the compacting board either away from her or toward her on alternate strokes. This action raises one set of strings above the other. The mother uses a long thin pole to feed the weft through the space provided. The daughter unhooks the weft from the pole and after mom pulls the pole out uses the board to pound the new weft into place. She then tilts the board the opposite direction from the last stroke and the process repeats. Technically the mom is the boss of the operation. She selects the proper color straw to feed depending on the pattern. The loom is long enough to make two mats so they work first from one end and then the other. When both are finished they cut the result in the center. It takes about a day to make the set. Most families replace their mats at New Year so they use the rest of the year to build up inventory.
Before they use the straw for weaving they have to prepare it. It starts out as a triangular blade of very hard grass, one of the few three sided grasses I’ve ever seen. They dry it and then use a spinning wheel to form the threads to make the weft of the mat. Their spinning wheel had a spindle to hold the raw, dried grass. It’s fed through a hole at the end where the spinner sits. The spindle is spun by a cord that is fitted like a fan belt that goes around a small pulley attached to the end of the spindles axle. The belt also goes around a small bicycle wheel, minus the tire, that’s connected to a foot pedal that acts as a treadle like on an old sewing machine. Pumping the treadle spins the wheel and the spindle while the operator holds the straw so it twists like thread. After that they dye it if they need colored straw and it’s ready to use.
The smartest family member, their dog, was fast asleep on the top of the new mat where the breeze can go underneath as well as on top to keep her very cool. The increased activity we caused did not disturb her in the least.
From the mat weavers we moved downtown to the embroidery factory and shop. Upstairs they have several rooms where the ladies work under bright light with very thin thread to create the beautiful garments and pictures they sell downstairs. We were invited upstairs to see them work. The individual thread is so thin it’s very hard to see unless it’s brightly colored and even then it’s tough. The whites and silvers are harder to see than the thinnest monofilament fishing line. Their subjects ranged from flowers to fish, with some fowl thrown in for good measure.
Downstairs they had small display room organized by item. One small room had embroidered framed art. The largest was a copy of Leonardo’s ‘The Last Supper’. One other had Mary at the center and small scenes from her life around the edge, starting with the Annunciation and ending with her being crowned as queen of heaven. Of course the major events of the life of Jesus were included. Other rooms had landscapes, still-life style pictures, ties, clothing, handbags and scarves. The prices are not low but they are inexpensive compared to prices in the US.
A nice day all around. Very relaxing if a bit warm and humid.
Our entertainer was Jon Dansk, a pianist and singer. He has something of a Liberace flavor to his performance and when he switched to his brocade sequined jacket that flavor increased. He was enjoyable and I’d see him again.
