Tuesday, June 21, 2011
11:08 AM (Vietnam Time)
Where to begin. We have been here for only a day, and I already feel somewhat adapted. It’s pretty crazy what immersion can do for you. Another clue that Scott and I are adapting is that Scott smells of fish sauce now. We have just had breakfast and woken up to a symphony of horns and honks from all the cars driving by. Let’s start at the beginning when we landed in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam.
The aerial view of the city is very different from that of California. In California, you can see cars zipping past on the freeways and the perfectly lined suburban houses. The two main splashes of color that you see at this time of year are the turquoise blue of swimming pools and the bright purple of the blooming trees. Over Ho Chi Minh, City, the city looks somewhat disorganized. It is not gridded like it is in the states. Every block is jammed packed with buildings of all heights and colors. We land. As I exit the airplane and walk through the area where the ramp meets the airplane, I get a glimpse of the outside temperature. I feel the humidity on my skin and the heat in my lungs. What surprises me, though, is that it feels like I am getting off an airplane in Boston in the middle of summer. It’s hot, but it’s not oppressive. Maybe I am superwoman and immune to heat, or maybe we just lucked out because it’s rainy season, and there is a cloud layer over the sky.
The airport is nice. First thing I notice; it has marble floors. Is this the same airport my mom departed from 35 years ago? The first time I speak Vietnamese in Vietnam is to the customs lady. Pressure is on. She has pulled Scott and me over because she found the reading glasses we have in our bags. Scott’s parents had donated 100 pairs of reading glasses through “The Reading Glass Project” where they send glasses to areas that need them and to women who need glasses because of their craft – weaving baskets, sewing, cooking, anything. We give the lady a letter from Project Vietnam Foundation, and she asks me if I speak Vietnamese, so I say I do. She says something to me that I don’t understand, so I say I don’t understand. She gets distracted by someone else talking to her and by my cluelessness as what she is saying, so she says “di di,” which basically translates to “Just go.” I find out later that she was trying to collect a tax on me. I guess I am just too persuasive with my Vietnamese.
We collect our bags and don’t really have a plan. Dr. Kieu told us to call her logistics manager once we land. For this to happen, we need two things to work out. First, the international SIM cards we bought back in the States need to work in our unlocked Blackberry Pearls (my dad and my old cellphones). Secondly, we need to connect to the internet because the manager's number is on Project Vietamn Foundation’s (PVNF) website because we forgot to write it down before we left. Moment of truth. We pop the SIM cards into the phones and wait. Signal received! 5 full bars. To top it off, there is internet on the second floor.
We call the manager, and we tell him we have arrived. There is some confusion over our arrival because he was told that we were staying in the city for a few days before heading to Rach Gia. We check our email. We have received an email while on the airplane that we would start work on Wednesday in Rach Gia. The manager, who specializes in logistics, responds quickly to the situation and sends two people to pick us up, and they arrive in no time. There was hardly a moment to worry.
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| Audrey standing in front of the hotel |
Two students from the U.S., Quoc and Richard, pick us up in a taxi. We are very thankful for them to come pick us up last minute like this. They take us to a nice hotel, Sen Viet Hotel, where they gave us a special discount, and we only need to pay $35/night with breakfast included. The room is comfortable and clean. At this point, Scott and I are struggling to fight the jetlag. I just want to lay down and sleep until tomorrow. Luckily, we have scheduled lunch with Quoc and Richard in an hour, so we have to stay awake. We get settled in, and I have to admit, I feel a little homesick. The idea of being across the world and so far away from home overwhelm me for the moment. Scott and I chat for a bit and catch up since I have been difficult to be around because of my Anatomy final.
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| Bowl of hu tieu ca |
We get called to lunch and head off. We hail a cab, and I get to speak Vietnamese again! We meet up with Quoc, his sister, Han, and Richard at an outdoor restaurant type of place. The food is so cheap, only about $2 per dish and that’s on the expensive side. First thing we order is sinh to bo (avocado milkshake). Sorry, mom, I had ice! It was delicious: creamy, buttery, and sweet. Scott orders hu tieu ca (fish noodle soup), and I order bun rieu cua ca tom (shrimp and crab noodle soup cooked in tomatoes). The portions are slightly small for a big eater like Scaudrey, so we also ordered banh mi ga (chicken sandwich). The food is just so tasty and savory. I feel like Vietnamese food puts just the right amount of sweetness with the right about of savoriness, so that your taste buds have a party in your mouth. During lunch, another PVNF volunteer, Thu, meets up with us, and the girls want to go shopping for ao dai (this directly translates into “long dress” but is actually the traditional dress of Vietnam). I am all in, and as my friends know, I am a bit of a shopaholic, so how could I resist? Plus, that was the one thing I wanted to buy while I was here because I need one for my cousin’s wedding in September.
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Audrey, Thu, and Han modeling fabrics
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| Audrey talking to the fabric lady about color options |
The two girls, Scott, and I get on a cab and go to the An Dong Mall. It’s not like a mall in States, where every shop has its own store. Each shop does not have it’s own walls, so it’s just shopkeep next to shopkeeper with clothes and fabrics making the walls that separate the stalls. It’s crowded and cramped, but glorious. We get to the ao dai store and the walls are lined with beautiful silk fabrics that will eventually be tailor-made for all the women who come to get a new dress. The two ladies there who help us pick out fabrics are sweet and kind. They want us to buy, but they don’t pressure us. I am looking for a yellow fabric. I am enjoying this situation so much because I get to speak Vietnamese with the woman, and I am having fun. I actually feel as if I am immersed in the culture a little bit. I mean, I am in a crowded market picking out fabrics with a local woman to buy a traditional dress. It’s an amazing feeling. I look and look, but none of the yellow fabrics I see really strike me, and then I see it. A bright yellow silk, with pink flowers on it, and I tell her that that’s the one I want. The seamstress comes and takes my measurements, and this one, I want in the traditional style, with long sleeves and a high collar. I choose out two other fabrics that I ask to be made in a more modern style so that I can wear it back home with my white coat. Total comes out to be $20-$30 each for a personally tailored dress. I pick it up tomorrow. The whole time Scott is taking pictures of us and is getting some funny stares because he’s a tall caucasian male, but the stares are more out of curiosity than anything else. We go to other stalls, and I need something to wear tonight because we’re going out to eat with some locals, and all I brought were ragtag clothes, so I get a cute white top for $6 (which is a little on the pricey side).
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| Beautiful silks |
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| Fabric lady enjoying the sell |
Scott and I head back to the hotel to run some errands and work out. At this point, we cross the street for the first time, and it is as scary as everyone says. There is just a constant stream of motorbikes and cares driving bar, which never break or stop. You literally have to put your foot out on the street and just walk. The motorbikes part for you, and you can’t stop or go backwards because it runs the flow. Obviously, I am scared so I stop frequently, which just makes it more difficult for the poor drivers. Scott just crosses without hesitation. I finally make it and realize that I have to do it again to get back to the hotel. We get back and start our workout. We made a pact with my stepdad that we would do the workout program, “Insanity,” while we were in Vietnam, so we start the fit test in the 8th floor gym of the hotel room. It was more like a room with carpet that was humid, with some bikes and a treadmill. Let me just say that I am so out of shape. The work outs were painful! And I could hardly breathe because of the humidity. I have never seen Scott sweat that much. As always, we are rushing to get ready for dinner. I don my new shirt, and we are off to a BBQ place.
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| Motorbikes in Viet Nam |
We get there and meet up with Quoc, Richard, Thu, and Hun, and 4 Vietnamese locals, and we feast. There are two stoves in the middle of the table which are heated by fire. The waiters serve us raw meat, and we cook it on the stove. We had squid, goat breast, shrimp, beef, and all sorts of delicious. It was such a social experience to cook and eat with everyone. Scott talked with a girl from Vietnam and learned more about the culture here. We also had beer and fresh coconut water. We had goi, which is a type of Vietnamese salad made with fish sauce, nuoc mam. It was make of the heart of palm tree, onions, and shrimp. The last course was whole shrimp on a skewer that you barbeque on the stove, then peel the skin, and eat the meat. Let me just take a moment and say how delicious the shrimp is here. The meat is sweet and buttery, and it tastes so fresh. The whole time, Scott and I are kicking ourselves for being lazy and not bringing the camera. The overall meal was so tasty and cultural.
After dinner, we head over to Quoc and Richard’s apartment, and we play card games and funny puzzles all night over some beers. It’s so normal. Fun with friends is simply fun with friends no matter what country you are in. This is what I loved about yesterday. I was nervous to come to Vietnam because I had all of these ideas in my mind about what it was going to be like, but this country shares similarities to other countries I have been to. In fact, when I look out of the window on our taxi drives, certain images remind me of Costa Rica, Barbados, or even New York. Yesterday, I learned that a place is still a place, no matter what country I am in. And this place has people that are kind, helpful, and curious, just like my place does back home.
-Audrey
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| Rush hour |
