[/caption]Biking along the rice paddies during dry season in rural Vietnam we experienced many different sites, smells, and emotions.
The weather was not desirable for a biking trip as the temperature was 13 on this dreary day that threatened rain and blew cold air. I was under prepared wearing my capris and a t-shirt. I am thankful that I had the insight to bring a light sweatshirt but I wished it had been a heavier one.
The trip started down a winding dirt path passed stalls selling a variety of products: fruits and vegetables, headless chickens and their feet, slabs of beef, dead fish, and banh chung -banana wrapped glutinous rice cake filled with green bean paste and fat pork. Can you imagine the smells as we pedaled by, mixed with gas fumes and burning garbage? My stomach did a few flips, both backwards and forwards.
The road took a sharp right turn and into the village paths we wound. We came to a white washed wall that encompassed a small abode. Our guide stopped us, dismounted, and walked right up onto the porch and spoke to the family in Vietnamese. Mike and I attempted to say hello, "xin chào", (sin chow) seems harder than in Mandarin as the language has 6 different tones. They laughed and said "hello" in return. This family was responsible for finishing the traditional conical hats that provide protection from the sun and rain. We watched them quickly and easily sew the palm leaves onto the hat. We thanked them and moved on through the village.
We stopped several more times and saw different stages of the process and learned that the actual hat took 6 hours to make but the preparation of the materials: drying the palm leaves and bamboo, and making silk threads took many weeks. The hat would be used for 6 months before it would deteriorate and not be usable.
We attracted a great deal of attention at the last house we stopped. The children had just finished school and were very excited to try their English on the "Người Mỹ", American. "Hello" was heard over and over again while we heard whispered; "How are you?", "My name is ...?", "I am 9", and "Where are you from?". We spoke to the children through our guide and enjoyed their laughter and shyness.
As we said our goodbyes they asked us to come to another house, one of the little boys’ house. We obliged and were escorted by about 20 kids to the home. They were amazed at how tall Mike, my husband, was. They jumped to try to be as tall as he, but did not come close to reach his head. They climbed on top of each other to see how many kids were needed to reach the top; it took 2 medium kids or 3 small ones. They stood next to him and measured their height in relation to his waist, elbow, and knees.
We snapped a photo and drove away with shouts of goodbye at our backs and the sound of little running feet trying to keep up with us.
We continued to several other stops on the trip: silk making, the oldest village gate, an ancient pagoda, and an incredibly unique lunch. While we enjoyed the sites, the highlight of the trip was the unexpected visit with the children; their smiles, their laughter, their shyness, and their playfulness with the strangers to their village.
The best events in life are spontaneous!
Tell me about one of your experiences from your vacation and add a picture on your blog!!
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