Farewell Party

All good things must come to an end and this weekend was my last at the ecolodge. Had a great time and the training went very well. Everyone gained a lot of useful information about operations and management, including tourism marketing. The ecolodge wants to serve more tourists, but to do so, the staff needs a clear understanding of their attitudes and behavior to promote visitor satisfaction. Of course, one of the primary goals is to attract more Western tourists, hence my coming.

Yesterday the staff gave me a going away party. We talked and ate, talked and ate some more. It's Vietnamese style to have fruit at the end of a meal as the dessert. This time they had cake and fruit too! Nobody seemed to mind, including me. It's one of the few desserts I've had in Vietnam. All in all, it was a sweet memory - friends, food, and culture. I'll leave with this this beautiful song stuck in my head. Please listen to it more than once.  Hello (and Goodbye) Vietnam!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=94y6svVU4so

Fish & Fishing

We left the ecolodge on motorbike at 5:30 pm and rode for 1 hour in mountainous terrain to reach the reservoir. After I thought we arrived at the fishing village, it was another 20 minute walk. Tired. On the way, we met a villager who was hunting birds with a crossbow. This was my first clue of what I was about to experience. Think Amazonia once removed. When asked about the bathroom, they just said wherever. Clue 2. It's a good thing I didn't need any toilet paper!

After getting to the fishing village near dark, we discovered that some were already on the water. Bummer. Another 20 minute walk (downhill), aided by head lamps this time. Exhausted and hot. The goal was to catch our dinner using a net and I was successful. Now for the bad news, an uphill walk back to the village. To call this a route a trail would be dishonest - it was a slippery slope. Double sweat.



The villagers cooked our dinner. Ate about eight or after. It was delicious - fish and vegetables, leaves, rice, and other stuff which lacks proper translation in English. Banana wine to drink, which just goes to show that people can make alcohol out of anything. Either banana wine or water flowing down the hillside, so I chose option one. The village had electricity, but cooked on a open fire. Clue 3.












Dinner was over about 10:30 pm, so I wanted to take a shower before bed. I just stood on the bamboo bridge, butt naked, and rinsed off with ice-cold mountain water. It didn't take long. BTW, it was dark and only the frogs croaked about my presence. Ready for bed, so they gave me a fan, mosquito net, mattress, and something that looked like a brick for a pillow. We awoke at 4:00 am for more fishing. Not sure if I should call this a short or a long night, considering that I didn't sleep at all. Every barnyard animal was awake and never heard such a cacophony in all my life.













The villagers were already on the water at 4:00 am, so it must have been a simple misunderstanding. Now for the tricky part, walking that treacherous slope again. This time we only had two cellphone lights, and one of those was at 40% capacity. Do you realize how dark it is at 4:00 am? But we made it w/out accident and joined the fishers. They caught 32 kilos of bait fish, profiting $5 USD. Clue 4. Afterwards, we caught some freshwater shrimp and fed their pen-raised fish.

After walking back to the village (uphill), we readied for breakfast. Eggs, bamboo shoots, pumpkin, sticky rice with peanuts, and freshwater shrimp. Absolutely delicious, even the shrimp which we ate head-on and unpeeled - crunchy little devils! Taking a nap was the first order of business, but soon we returned to the ecolodge. A real shower never felt so good.

This was my most favorite experience in Vietnam. I learned some about fish and fishing, but more about friendship. The villagers treated me like a VIP, not only because I was the oldest, but also a teacher. I experienced a different lifestyle with admiration, not fear. I ate dinner and shook hands with people that I could not speak with, except through translation. Ironic that I wore my invasive fish shirt on this very day. I'm invasive, not them!    
            

Food Culture

Not saying that we have a food identity crisis, but it's much different in Asia. Americans have strong regional tastes, but missing out when it comes to national foods. The reason is quite simple, the US is divided by race / ethnicity, geography, and culture. For example, most everyone knows that I'm from the South and if they don't, all I need to do is mention fried okra, sweet tea, and grits! Blacks don't eat the same as whites, while rich eat differently than other social classes. You get the idea.

Many people ask, "How can you stand to eat X food all the time?" The answer is quite simple, it's healthy and delicious! Americans often associate Asian food with Chinese food, and Chinese food with the Chinese buffet. I think I would die if I had to eat from a Chinese buffet every night of the week, just like you! Death by sweets will kill you in the US, but not in Nam. Where's the chocolate around this place?



Vietnam has a strong food culture, both regionally and nationally. It's a homogeneous population and everyone can speak the same language. Imagine that. Here they take great pride in food, but in the US we treat it as a necessary evil - box, can, or freezer? Most US women have lost or never learned how to cook, thanks to the microwave. Get this, most Vietnamese kitchens don't have ovens. Fresh food is cooked daily, and hardly anything is processed. Did I mention healthy and delicious?
      

Daily Rice

 

Americans understand the meaning of wheat more than rice. After all, we eat some form of bread daily. Many know that wheat is grown in faraway places, such as Kansas, Nebraska, and the Dakotas by farmers using heavy machinery, and that it's available at grocery stores, 24/7. For most of us, that's about as far as it goes since we lack a direct connection to agriculture. Not so in Vietnam. Rice is food, but also symbolic of life and culture, even religion. Not just here, but in all of Asia.

Almost every Asian eats some form of rice 3 times per day. When asked about our frequency of rice consumption, I say maybe once or twice a week. Not sure who is more astonished - Americans because of their frequency, or Asians because of our infrequency!

Consumption is only one explanation for the cultural difference. Production is the other. Rice is grown virtually everywhere. During the planting season both men and women are mired in mud above their ankles using primitive tools, including their hands to ensure the next crop. Instant rice is a oxymoron! Paddies are a work of art displayed all across Asia - terraces, filled with water, even on steep hillsides. Can't eat rice w/out thinking of Asia.

By Demand!

Staff & Training

There are about 80 staff who work at the ecolodge, most of which are young and friendly. All are from the local villages where many will remain their entire lives. They commute back and forth to work every day either by foot or motorbike. I doubt anyone has a car. The staff work 6 days a week, from 6:00-2:00 or 2:00-10:00. Uniforms are colorful and matched with their job title.



Their use of English is limited and some are better than others, but all are trying hard. I'm reliant on a translator for all my lessons which speeds up the delivery. Not saying that they understand everything I say. It is a common tendency to smile and nod your head politely when totally lost. Same way with college students back in the US. 

 

It makes me feel good to see so many young people working and enjoying their jobs. Average salary is about $150 per month. Despite the huge difference in cost-of-living expenses, it still isn't much money.  Countless Americans make more in one day than they make per month. We would call this group the working poor, but only in economic terms. They are rich in quality of life - family, food, customs, and scenery. Pollution, like crime, is virtually non-existent. Most Americans try to purchase happiness in order to find satisfaction, but not so in rural Vietnam.   

Village Life

Shaman

It just so happens that I'm here during the rice festival, at least in my village. It occurs after the harvest, but before the next planting. Here's how it works. One family cooks a big meal and invites many villagers to join them for dinner. According to local legend, the more people who attend, the greater the following rice harvest will be. The next day, another family does the same thing, so I suspect its just a good excuse to party. The shaman prays to his ancestors for a bountiful crop. Eating commences, followed by much drinking of rice wine. Toasts are made for the silliest of reasons. 

The sources of protein were carp (yeah), chicken, and snails. There were some vegetables, including sticky rice, and several things I could not identify. Neither could the locals. The fish was great, but they simply cut up the chicken in random fashion, so I could not tell what I was eating. At first, I thought it was an internal organ, but then I realized it contained a bone.  How stupid of me!  If it weren't for some guacamole-looking leaf paste, I wouldn't have been able to get down river snails. About half-way into the meal, they gave me a piece of paper, torn from a school book. I thought it was something special until they said it was just a napkin. I laughed while wiping hands.

 

It was an interesting experience, and one that I won't forget any time soon. Many people actually live close to the earth, something that most Westerners cannot relate to. All the food and customs were authentic. People were eating and drinking, shaking hands and laughing, seemingly without a care in the world. I just showed up at this person's house, totally unannounced, yet I was welcomed like one of the family. Tonight I found something in Vietnam that we lost in the US many decades ago.

Happy

Napkin

 

Sweating like a pig

This common saying has very little to do with pigs sweating. Pigs cool off by wallowing in the mud. This expression actually applies to the smelting process, the cooling of pig iron. But we like to say it anyway, because it makes us feel good, like wallowing in the mud.

Back to the point. It's hotter than HE double-hockey sticks over here, and I'm sweating like a pig! Don't believe me, huh? Over 40 C which is 104 F + almost every day I've been in Vietnam. It's hot in the morning, noon, and night. Two showers a day are a must, and that's just to knock off the sweat. Being hot is one thing, but being hot all day long is entirely another. What's not fair is how little Vietnamese people sweat; meanwhile I'm drenched. Drinking more water produces even more sweat, but the consequences of dehydration are far more severe. Maybe I'm out of shape or maybe I'm just a wimp, but AC never felt so good.

Air conditioning is the problem. Americans use it all of the time, whereas Vietnamese use it sparingly. Imagine how much energy the US could save if we employed a similar tactic. We are spoiled and I'm part of the problem. For example, last night I stayed in a nice hotel in Hanoi. Breakfast was served on the 10th floor overlooking the skyline. I was excited until I sat down and noticed that the sliding glass doors were wide open. So, here I was sweating like a pig at 6:30 am while eating my breakfast. Meanwhile, the staff seemed perfectly content.

The temperature broke today and I went outside, but it started raining. Instead of wallowing in the mud, I chose to come back inside where I could catch up on my blog in air conditioned comfort.