The tour company arranged a trip to Go Noi Village, a village outside Hoi An and central to an adjacent island. We visited with a farming family and took a biking tour to learn the trade and life of a typical Viet village.
When we arrived we were introduced to the patriarch and matriarch whose names were Bay and Sau (7 and 6 in Viet).
They were ~60 , and this was a common naming approach for children born during The American War. Their 5 children were named France, America, Germany, etc.
A tour of the house, revealed some interesting features. It consisted of the two bedrooms, a main room and central shrine, and an outdoor kitchen, and dining rooms. Phap (France) the oldest son and his wife shared a room, and the sister and baby (Tintin) lived in the main room.
Their home and all the homes in town, included a boat mounted on the ceiling and a flood room, that the family (and the cow) moved into for two months of the year when the water was high. This particular house had a men’s and ladies room, an obvious upgrade to accommodate their tour business.
The economics of the household were basically rice farming (including a Party subsidy), a kitchen garden, and a cow. Tien let us know that the tours Phap gave to tourists was also huge part of their living as was the salary for Phap’s wife. She was a teacher, and actively tutoring on a laptop (which seemed wildly out of place) when we arrived. We learned that their other son’s university education cost one cow for two years.
They treated us like family and Tien like an honored benefactor.
We climbed on rickety bikes and started our tour. It being Saturday, the village was filled with children, following us on their bikes, shouting hello from every house, and giggling at us. It was a pure joy.
The town was deeply impoverished by western standards with mud roads, homes cobbled together from scrap wood, and trash everywhere. It was disconcerting to see three incredibly wealthy, and ornate temples and two richly appointed monasteries among the modest homes.
We started a 2 mile ride around the town with Phap working on his English and Tien filling in the gaps. One of the funnier moments was when Tien, a Vietnamese giant at 6’1″ ran into a villager slightly taller than him. A hilarious pissing contest ensued.
We stumbled onto a Dahlia farm (big tradition in the upcoming Lunar New Year), managed by Hoa, a retired language teacher. Juju geeked out sharing pictures of tubers, Grace’s wedding flowers and getting yet another lesson on VN vowel management.
Next we had a few hands on experiences with a wood worker, and a maker of wheat paper/noodles. Really fun.
The next stop was not so fun. We visited their American War memorial. The Island was heavily bombed for over a year in 1969. The memorial recognized the 30,000 Viet Cong and citizens that died there.
I mentioned before that our Vietnam War was just one of many bloody conflicts , over a 150 year period. But here it was the one that destroyed their, villages, families and lives. Phap shared several stories about his grandparents (blessedly spared) and their friends and families who were not so fortunate.
It’s appropriate to remember the disproportionate impact of our war efforts. 282k American and South Vietnamese allies lost their lives. But 628k Viet Cong and over 700k non military were killed, 70% were women and children.
OK. Lunch was a team sport with Hien, our driver, contributing various vegetarian dishes, JuJu and Phap frying crispy pancakes, and Mamma Sau providing an amazing sautéed catfish. I keep saying this, but it was one of the BEST meals ever.
The family helped us record a birthday greeting (chúc mừng sinh nhật) for Grace to wake up to (1/24). And Sau sent JuJu off with a bouquet of roses from her garden.
Having a great guide like Tien is invaluable. But it’s also kind of exhausting in terms of activity level and content. It’s difficult to find time to shop and wander, follow your nose, talk to strangers or just chill by the pool.
Our last afternoon in Vietnam we cut him loose so we could follow our nose. We bought some gifts for the kids. I picked up my new custom made kicks, and we splurged on some tribal art. We spent some money but I’d guess a fifth of what it would have cost at home.
I finally talked Justine into getting her Ao Dai (pronounced Ow Zigh). This is the traditional, formal dress and trousers of the lady-Vietnamese. Custom made with her fabrics of choice for $35 (and done in 12 hours.)
To close out our time in Vietnam we returned to Hoi An’s Old Town. It was mobbed with tourists, selfie-obsessed 20 somethings, and hard drinking Eastern Europeans.
We popped around the shops, grabbed a sidewalk seat, and settled in for some people watching. Just sitting still for a drink (or three) we met some wonderful people and shared some amazing life experiences.
Tomorrow we pack, pick up JuJu’s Ao Dai, chill some more, and then head to Da Nang for our flight to Siem Reap, Cambodia and the Angkor Wat temple complex.
Mac and Juju explore Southeast Asia 