my first leap

I’m back at Yellow House Hotel in Saigon. It’s 21.57pm. Seb has gone for a walk. We’re taking it easy after a 4 hour coach journey from Muine Beach.

Tuesday 26th July —

Seb was up at 5am. He told me later he was desperate for a pee but found both the back and front door locked with a padlock. But he was woken up earlier by the rooster’s cries, the farm animals singing, the flickering TV playing karaoke and bugs dancing on his chest. I tried to sleep until Seb came up to my net and whispered ‘Are you up yet?’. I was now and got up to begin my zombie walk at 5.20 in the morning.

I needed a pee and hoping to avoid relieving myself for the whole day was not going to work. After, I brushed my teeth with some drinking water. I felt a bit guilty as everyone else is using the water from the hose in the yard. I used as little as possible thinking that would make me feel less guilty. My stomach had not been quite right since I got to Vietnam and it was now quietly behaving itself. I didn’t want to disturb its sleep.

I put on yesterday’s clothes. They kindly asked why I was wearing yesterday’s clothes. I didn’t want to explain that this was the best combination that kept me cool. I went and got changed. I transferred all the insect repellent patches to the clean clothes. All my patches end up on my pyjama top and bottom. I can safely say that I could easily impersonate Mr Blobby with the circles all over me. My relatives treat us with very strong sweet coffee for breakfast. I dipped my crispy bread in it. Nice. In Vietnam it’s normal to get up at 5am and finish work at 5pm. Sang’s wife asked us if we wanted to go to the market with her. We jumped on our motorbikes and went grocery shopping. At the market, we passed a basin of wormy-like finger-like squirmy sea things and Sang’s wife asked Seb if he wanted to try. Seb shook his head in horror muttering ‘no, no’. She laughed. I looked away with a suspicious feeling I’ve had these wormy things before but they were dead and fried and looked like a veg. I didn’t know what they were, now I knew. I tried not to think about it. We bought water and tissue for ourselves, important for survival here. My cousin’s wife bought food for dinner. She asked Seb if he liked the fish we had last night. Seb loved it. So we’re standing there staring at dead fish spread out and kissed by flies and Seb, I’m sure, wanted to change his mind. Luckily the fish she orders are the alive ones in a bucket. The fish lady sits squat as she takes out a fish and hits it on the head knocking it out. She does this with the next one but it fights so she wacks it again. And then she cleans, guts and scales them right in front of us quickly and skilfully. At the market we are a novelty. Everyone wants to know who we are. The women tell my auntie Seb is a good-looking guy. We ate some pho bo at a food stall nearby and Sang’s wife tells us how 4 years ago they had no water and had to collect water from a well 40 miles away and because they had to pay for it and had to use the majority of the water for crops, they washed themselves with a noodle bowl of water to conserve what water they had. Now it was easier, they had their own well. She told us of her pretty 18 year old daughter. After being beaten by my uncle, for something she didn’t do, committed suicide. She told us with tears in her eyes. This reminded me of my visit to Hainan Island in February when I wandered around my relatives’ village and came across a woman who was working on a machine that was churning out potatoes. Somehow she guessed who I was and when I confirmed it, she started crying there right in front of me. Sometimes you don’t realise the impact you have on those who enter your life.

Sang’s wife is close to the owner of an ice stall where they cut ice and sell them by the block. We parked our bikes outside and watched a young boy (the son most probably) cutting and selling the ice. We too bought a block from him. With the block of ice, the vegetables, meat, fish and a crate of beer, we had the task of getting all this back to the house on 2 motorbikes. Sang’s wife took the beer, we took the food. Seb had a basket between his legs and I carried a bag as well. This and bumpy roads made an interesting thrilling ride. Sang’s wife stopped twice; the first time to give a man outside his house the crate of beer and then a boy outside his house a bag of something else. It seemed she was shopping for others as well.

She had bought a bottle of petrol. We found out that 7th nephew used it for his weed cutting machine. We watched him and then followed him – he’s only 18 years old – like excited children and watched him do his days work cutting weed from the forest floor. Seb saw him and Sang cousin plant trees.

We go for a drive and again big moths the size of eye balls zoomed around us and into us. Seb had one in his ear and had to stop to make sure it was out. These moths were found in the living room as well swooping around the tube of light. Zapping them created a bigger pop and their bodies took longer to burn but there was too many of them. 7th nephew saw our plight, hung a plastic bag using a straw to hook it to the light. Amazingly, the stupid moths would flap close and fly into the bag and couldn’t get out. I don’t know how that worked but it worked.

I write this as I sit in the living area with the whole family around. 4th cousin and her husband have come over with some durian-like fruit called ‘jackfruit’ from their back garden and some hairy lychees. Seb had asked what the hairy lychees were called and I said jokingly ‘I don’t know, hairy lychees’. I’ve just looked them up and amazingly they are called ‘rambutan’ and ‘hairy lychees’! My 4th cousin explained that these ones are from Thailand and were much sweeter than the ones from Vietnam. We’ve also tried ‘mangosteen’ it seems. My relatives ask me what I was scribbling. I try to explain the concept of blogging and they tell me that there’s an internet cafe 20 mins ride away. Outside a teenage boy we saw the day before watches us. We were told that he’s the neighbour’s dumb son. He stares at me through the window. My relatives just ignore him.

—

It’s 22.57pm. I’m tired. Need to pack. Hoping to go tomorrow to Hanoi.

***

Poster $5.99 (74 x 115 in)

Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter. – Mark Twain. American Humorist, Writer and Lecturer. 1835–1910

 

Tags: Bao Binh, Travel, Travel, Travel

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