Vietnam

Of all the countries we researched to visit on this trip, Vietnam was the most polarizing. Many of our standard go-to travel blogs either really loved it or really hated it. People listed pushy vendors, cold people and overly expensive tours. When we were in Cambodia, we even ran into a couple who had been ganged up on while on their motorbike and forced to pay their way out. While we did have some difficulties in Vietnam, most of these worries did not hold true in our experience.

For us, Vietnam is a country of extremes. We can start with the weather. The heat in the south is dizzying, while the north races with bone-chilling winds and occasionally even snow. Each region has a completely different landscape, people and food. As one guide explained to us only half-jokingly, “The people from the south have a sweet voice, good for singing. The people in the middle have a strange accent. The people of the north are the ones who always get picked to be TV newspeople. If you want to hire someone from the south, we care about relationships more than the job so we will stay one or two years, more if the boss is nice. The people from the north will stay longer, but only if you give them a promotion. The people in the middle are the best workers because that area has the hardest weather, hard storms.” It’s a country that is moving forward quickly but hasn’t forgotten the past, each faction not forgiving the other for its role in the Vietnam War. This is especially evident in the lack of resources in Sapa, the hill-tribe area. It’s a country that superficially looks like any other Asian country in this area, but has some strange overtones from the communist government, such as police forcefully collecting “bribes” for extra pocket money and random things like Twitter being blocked in most places.

And for us personally, it was an extreme place. For our first full ten days, we entered into a Vipassana meditation center, keeping a vow of vegetarianism and complete silence.

From the austerity of the meditation retreat, we started exploring the sprawling urbanism that is Ho Chi Minh city, which locals still call Saigon.

Saigon

After these 10 days in silence, our brains were so hungry for everything. We could smell the barbecuing meat on the bus ride back into town, the sugar caramelizing on sweet roti buns, all mixing with the acrid smell of the asphalt and exhaust from the traffic. It was overwhelming, especially the noise, but we were so happy to find ourselves in a cafe and have our first of many Vietnamese coffees and Pho soups.

We got to the guesthouse and went immediately to the War Remnants Museum, an unforgettable experience, which starts with the history of the conflict, the horrors civilians and soldiers were subjected to, and the outcome (heavily lauding the north and its victory over the meddling foreign powers). The museums in this country tend to have a bit of propaganda, but being able to hear the victims tell their stories was powerful. We rarely get to hear this side as westerners.

Other notable buildings are the Notre Dame Cathedral, which looks as though it was imported from Europe, and the Central Post Office designed by Gustave Eiffel. The Reunification Palace is supposed to be a great example of 1960s architecture, but we didn’t really appreciate it.

Mekong Delta

We started for the Mekong Delta the next day. The Mekong river has an amazing journey before to Vietnam and then in the Ocean; starting in the Himalayas, it goes through China, Myanmar, Laos, Thailand, Cambodia and finally Vietnam. We took a boat through a floating market where people are still selling their goods wholesale on boats. Prices are generally by the kilo, except where live animals like chickens are involved. We also went to a coconut candy factory and saw how rice noodles get made.

Hoi An

We came to Hoi An for many reasons; the city is a quietly beautiful mix of colonial buildings, Japanese merchant houses and Chinese temples. There was a non-cultural reason for visiting this area as well — I was on a quest to get some clothing made by the tailors here, who can quickly replicate an outfit from just a photo. We spent a cold but romantic day walking along the banks of the river through the old town and worked up quiet an appetite. We started off on the hunt for the best Bahn Mi in the city. We stuck with pork variations of this delicious Vietnamese sandwich and found this one to be the best.

Hoi An is also known for several local delicacies which we were happy to try. Most shops will sell some variation of Cao Lau, a yellow noodle dish with pork meat and broth, or White Rose, a shrimp dumpling wrapped in transparent white dough.

The next day, we visited My Son, the largest site of ruins of the ancient Cham empire. Throughout our trip in Cambodia, we had heard about the Cham people, so we were curious to see what their temples and buildings had looked like. One curious thing we saw is that the old original bricks had no space in between them, as they were not held together with mortar but rather with some kind of thin glue. These were in better condition than the newer moss-covered bricks that had been used in the reconstruction of several sites here. The recipe for this ancient glue is unknown, so preservationists have started using the sticky sap of some local trees to attempt to replicate the original, long-lasting construction. Only time will tell if this will be as good.

Our guide adamantly reminded us that the American bombs had destroyed much of these ruins, and never wasted a moment to say, “Boom!” when out a new site.

Hue, the food capital

Hue, the capital of the Nguyen emperors, has an impressive Citadel in the center, and many royal tombs around the perimeter of the city. After a day visiting in the rain, Bo took me to the Dong Ba Market to try the famous local dish, Bun Bo Hué, a spicy noodle soup filled with lemongrass, ginger, quivering cakes of congealed pig’s blood, beef, steaming hot and redolent with fishy overtones from the shrimp paste. This is when we decided to switch from a cultural mission to a local food expedition. As we devoured our bowls, a local couple sitting next to us was so amused that they insisted on paying for our meals. The man told us, “You are in my country and I want that you should enjoy being here. This is my pleasure.”

Food deserves its own section. Mod and I were familiar with Pho and Bahn Mi from living in San Francisco, but we were not prepared for the diversity of food here. This was one of our favorite places to eat, with each region serving its own distinct flavors.

Let’s start with the middle of the country by focusing on Hue. Of all the places we went to in this country, Hue’s food cannot be beaten. The food here is bold, sophisticated and well-spiced. Kings who lived within the citadel would have 50-100 different dishes for each meal, and the region attracted many skilled chefs.

Everything we ate in Hue was delicious. Some of our favorites that we loved were Nem Lui, ground beef plus minced pork skin and fat grilled on lemongrass sticks. You wrap these in lettuce, cucumbers, noodles, carrots and a sheet of rice paper, dip it into a meaty peanut sauce. There was the Banh Khoai, a crunchy yellow rice flour pancake filled with shrimp and pork which was greasy and good. Mod’s favorite was the Banh Beo Chen, steamed rice cakes set in a small dish, sprinkled with shallots, herbs, dried shrimp and a crouton made from fried pork skin. You spoon a fish sauce over them, but for these and all other dishes, we liberally added chili paste.

In the south, the people like things sweet and spicy. Fresh herbs, garlic and a variety of vegetables are everywhere in the food, thanks to the Mekong and the warm climate. This is evident in the Pho, where each bowl is served with a side of vegetables (such as sprouts) and fresh herbs to add to the beef noodle soup. They also add sweet hoisin, a bit of lime some chili sauce.

In the north, Pho is more austere. Mod preferred the Pho of the south he thinks, but I love the clean taste of the Pho in the north, which comes only with some green onions and maybe some cilantro. The best Pho places had no options, you just sat down and a bowl of deeply savory broth, thinly sliced raw beef and chewy fresh noodles plopped down in front of your face.

Phong Nha

Phong Nha-Ke Bang National Park is home to hundreds of cave. We decide to visit Paradise Cave, which was discovered only ten years ago. After a beautiful ride in between the karst mountains, we walk a 1km path inside this huge and very peaceful place.

Communism

I was fascinated by the subject as soon as we entered the country. On every street, you see the Vietnamese and the communist flags. I was confused by what it meant, so I have been asking people and searching. This is a summary of what I have understood.

Vietnam may have won its independence from France, but that independence was short-lived. In 1956, fearing that the elections were going to be won by the Communist party of the north, the USA intervenes. This commences two decades of dirty warfare. After the war comes the reunification of the country and the single-party rule, the Communist Party of Vietnam, which is among five remaining communist countries today (China, Laos, Cuba, North Korea). However, Vietnam had to adopt some capitalist principles to survive and recover from the war. In 1986, the country opened up to the free market system, and then started its best evolution, becoming one of the fastest growing economies country in the world, with sharp reductions in poverty.

The communist form is still true today, but the substance is very different. Those who joined the revolution and swore to be transparent eventually betrayed their ideology. Vietnam ended up with the worst of two systems: the authoritarian socialism and the neoliberalism, creating a small elite who fills their pockets and hides behind the rhetoric of the revolution.

Human rights and freedom of speech are still limited. Facebook is accessible nowadays, but Twitter is still not. Journalists say that the party has less control over them, but the reporters still have to know what lines they cannot cross and what they cannot say.

In 2011, some Parliament seats were won by non-communist party members, but the communist party still keeps its monopoly.

People from the South or other groups of people who had fought against the North in the war were sent to re-education camps until 1992.

“The trappings of freedom are apparent on every city street but, from the economy to the media, the Communist Party is determined to remain the sole source of authority. Beneath the great transformation lurks a paranoid and deeply authoritarian political system. Vietnam’s prospects are not as clear as they might first appear to outsiders.” - Bill Hayton.

Hanoi

Hanoi, our next hub, is a very energetic capital. Maybe a bit too frenetic; if you are not killed by a vehicle crossing a street, you could die from a heart attack.

We try more local delicious food, visit few temples, and some museums. In Hoa Lo Prison Museum, we are impressed by the propaganda: it shows pictures of the American pilots receiving nice treatment (including former P.O.W. John McCain), and then pictures of all the party comrades. I think it’s fair, we used to see the contrary in the west until horrible pictures came from the war about the treatment given by American soldiers to Vietnamese (see Saigon museum). It’s very hard to know where the truth belongs.

Halong Bay

Despite the foggy weather, we embark for a 2-day boat trip in between the mysterious Halong Bay’s 3000 islands. The local myth is that these rocks are the former dragons that descended from heaven to protect Vietnam from warships. At night, we try our hand at squid fishing, an unsuccessful venture, and resort to eating calamari caught by people more experienced than us.

Trekking in Sapa

We arrived in Sapa in the middle of the night, shivering in the dark, trudging through the muddy streets of town. February is winter in the hills of northern Vietnam, and a dense fog hangs over the village, hugging the hills and hiding the views. It may not have been the best time to come, but Mod and I had come here for the people more than anything. Sapa is home to a high concentration of the Hmong, a hill tribe people known for their difficult history and beautiful traditional clothing. The different groups are identifiable by color; the Black Hmong wear clothing dyed darkly with indigo they harvest from the mountains while the Flower Hmong are known for their intricate and colorful attire.

We sleep a few hours then walk over to the church to meet Em, a 22-year-old Black Hmong trekking guide who we called a few days before. We see Em’s bright green and pink headscarf before we see the rest of her through the fog. She is standing in a green jacket with an umbrella and smiles widely when she sees us. Em needs to prepare her house for us to sleep in, as well as prepare the food for our dinner and so today we will trek with her younger sister Bao. Em will trek with us tomorrow.

Bao is 17 and her greatest wish in life is to do nothing, she says. She’s not interested in the boys at school or in the villages even though she’s within the marriage window (16-20), because once you get married life is busy. Bao has 5 older sisters who are all married with children, so she would know. She knows the roads well and sloshes through puddles in her rain boots while she tells us that she’s done with school now. She has finished secondary school and high school costs money here.

“Only Vietnamese go to high school,” she says. I ask her why the Vietnamese have the money for school and the Hmong don’t, but she doesn’t know. The subject is uncomfortable and I let it drop.

During the Indochina Wars and the Vietnam War, many Hmong sided with the French and Americans. When they lost the war, The Hmong who could not flee stayed behind and dealt with the aftermath. Even though the Hmong in Laos were the most persecuted, sent to labor and “re-education camps,” you feel that no side in Vietnam, whether it’s the North, the South or the Hill Tribes, has forgotten the roles everyone played during the war.

We stop by Bao’s village and visit her parents. This is a big family, with 9 children, but only 4 are left as the older ones have gone off and gotten married. The youngest son will be the ones to stay with the parents in their old age, and Bao too, if she never gets married. We meet another sister, this one about 5 years old, named Si.

Bao knows most of the kids we run into on our trek and we don’t get the same degree of touting as other groups. After about 5-6 hours of trekking, we arrive at Em’s house, which is in her husband’s village an hour away from Bao‘s. The house is made of wood, and with no insulation, the inside of the house is just as cold as the outside. We step into the earthen floor of the common area, which doubles as the bedroom and dining room, and walk to the kitchen where there is a fire. A bag of wood chips, a small fan for the flames, and a few sticks of fire wood, which Em chops lengthwise with her giant knife into smaller pieces, are what keeps us warm. We sit there as some puppies sidle up beside us, sneaking for some warmth so they can nap. Em has two children, a boy named Mitu and a girl named Si, like the sister we met earlier.

“Chuk-ko” is a phrase we quickly learn, and it means “Don’t cry.” Mitu is a small bully and Si wants her brother’s attention. The result is a lot of crying, regardless of what we say. The kids are easily distracted though by the prodigious amount of activity going on next to the house. A group of Koreans have donated some money so that this village could build a Christian church. I ask Em about the different kinds of religions in the hill tribe communities. She says that people used to be animist. “They believed that a shaman could tell you to kill a pig or chicken and it would make you better,” she says. By her tone, Em is clearly not an animist. In fact, most Hmong in this area are Christian or Catholic. When I ask her the difference between the two, she says, “Same same, but different. Catholics drink rice whisky and use the blood of animals in their food. We Christians don’t do that.

Em and her husband start preparing dinner. As we watch the husband feed the fire and sauté the cabbage, we realize it’s the first time we have seen a man helping prepare the homestay meal. We tell Em as she is rolling some rice paper wraps to fry later that her husband is really nice. She smiles and says thank you, but all the men here are the same.

“The women who trek, the husband stays home and watches the children and cooks too, because we are not here. All the men are like this here,” she says. We ask her why the men don’t try to become guides themselves and she says that it’s because they are too shy to learn English. “We learn Vietnamese in school, not English. To learn English, I followed my older sister on treks and practiced with the tourists. I practiced a long time, but tourists didn’t understand what I was saying until maybe 4 years ago. The men are shy and don’t learn English, so they stay at home.”

As Em wraps the vegetables in the rice paper, she hands them over to her husband, who has a pan full of oil to fry them in. Mitu tries to grab them during the handoff, and Si watches her brother with shining eyes. She’s trying to sit on one of the little plastic stools by the fire but she’s too short and she just ends up pushing it across the floor with her butt. I place her on the chair while Em’s husband empties out the oil to fry the beaten eggs with greens. There’s only one pan, so every dish takes it’s own time. The kids are excited about the eggs, and I remember that Bao told me that most days she eats just rice and so it’s her favorite food.

Dinner is delicious. The fried rolls are hot and delicious. The eggs are a bit oniony and perfect with rice. The cabbage is a bit carmelized around some of the edges, and there’s a dish with pork and onions. It’s too much food and everyone eats more than seems possible. We gather around the fire again for a bit of warmth before we climb into bed, which has a curtain for privacy. We have several blankets for warmth, and we keep on all our clothes except our rain jackets. It’s cold, we feel the wind, but as we listen to the kids getting ready for bed giggling, we fall asleep fast enough.

The next morning we have some noodles, cabbage and rice. Em says goodbye to her family and we start trekking again. We pass by some more barren rice fields. In the south of the country around the Mekong Delta, farmers plant and harvest three crops of rice a year. In Sapa, with the cold and dry seasons, farmers can only plant one crop of rice. Vietnam may be the third largest exporter of rice, according to our Delta tour, but in Sapa people keep that one rice harvest to eat at home; they never sell their rice at the market.

We ask Em how she met her husband, a Black Hmong from another village. She says that during special occasions, like Tet (new year), the students have large parties where people from different tribes and villages get together. She met her husband at one of these student parties. I ask her what the adults do for fun during the new year, and she says that once you’re an adult there’s no parties and no fun.

After a few more hours, our trek ends, and we take a cold motorbike ride back into town. Mod and I set off to thaw ourselves with a hot shower and some coffee while Em goes back home as it’s too cold and late in the day to take another trekking group. This was the most authentic homestay we have done on our trip, and we’re glad to have spent these two days with Bao, Em and her family and see what life is really like in the hills of northern Vietnam.

All pictures: https://goo.gl/photos/ZxiUVU4y9Qe8QP18A