Second day in Ben Tre we set off with our incredibly friendly guide Phan. He showed up punctually at 8 with our bikes. We were amazed to find him dressed in long black pants and a neatly pressed, long-sleeved white shirt with a dapper straw hat in hand. Off we went for a ride around what we hoped would be some truly quiet countryside near town. Our first stop was the local museum, which many years before had been the French prefecture building, which Phan zipped around, showing us the highlights of history, the American “strategic villages”, which we gathered were essentially camps—and how the town has evolved and grown since the war, especially with the very recent advent of huge bridges in the area, which make road connections to HCMC much quicker.
We rode through the familiar street markets and then veered onto a narrow pedestrian/bike/motorbike bridge over the river, turned left, and quite literally entered another world. Traffic was virtually non-existent, the scenery immeasurably greener, and everywhere were signs of a calmer, almost rural life.
Coconut is the prevalent crop of the delta, and we first stopped at a small workshop where they work all aspects of the fruit. Phan showed us how every last part of the coconut is used. In one mountain of fresh coconuts a man rips off the outer husks and tosses these aside. Phan says these will be threshed and turned into mats, or carpet-like things. Sometimes these are shredded and used as fertilizer. A second man cuts the nuts in half. The “milk” is run off into a separate bin, and taken (in this case) across the way to a family that ferments it, and also turns it into a sort of jelly, which is then used as a cooking ingredient. A third person takes the coconut halves and with a special implement removes the coconut meats from the shells. The shells are burned for fuel in homes as well as in the local brick factory, where they are used like coal. This back-breaking work is done by men. On the other side of the open workshop are the women, who peel and grate coconut, press it for oil, and who ready the coconut water. At the end of the day, despite the masses of what look like a holy coconut mess, there is precious little waste.
Phan then takes us across the street to visit the family whose sole connection to the “workshop” is that they use the coconut water and turn it into hundreds of trays of jelly. As we peer over the fence—Phan talking up a storm—the couple show up to let us in, and within moments the matriarch appears and promptly invites us to tea. We’re ushered into the formal “living room” , which is complete with a religious shrine—although, interestingly, the family is Catholic—, and the obligatory pictures of Ho Chi MInh and an assortment of ancient and deceased relatives. Next to this is the ubiquitous motorbike, parked in the middle of the room! We’re presented with wedding albums of grandchildren, and plates of fruit and sweets along with refreshments. Phan and the old lady, who are acquainted as of about 5 minutes ago, sit side by side holding hands sweetly, while she tells him about her now deceased husband, and family members, brings in photo after photo, while smiling and talking at us. She invites us to come again when we are back in Vietnam, and wishes us well, all the while hanging on to my hand, which I finally gently wrest from hers.
Back on the bikes we stop at a small stall where we’re fed wonderful fruits and are treated to some Vietnamese singing by the two ladies who run the stall. Phan explains that these songs were sung by workers in the rice fields as a call and response, and a way to keep them from tiring and from “too boring” as he puts it.
Our stops are constant, in and about the small lanes that shoot off the main roadway, we visit mat makers, a shrimp salesgirl, women making coconut candy and from start to finish, we walk through the rice paddies and stop frequently for photos. He’s a gentle soul intent on making our outing perfect. Our final stop is for lunch—on the late side—, at a small local home, where there are a few tables under a thatched roof of coconut palm leaves. And what a treat it is! From the beautiful rice paper rolls made before our eyes with fresh herbs, pineapple, cucumber and a pieces gently torn from a gorgeously grilled “elephant ear fish”, to a light vegetable soup, and then rice with another kind of fish. All topped off with delicious bananas, and then a mandatory rest in the hammock, due to early afternoon heat. After a serious rest—Phan and Andres both slept—, we head back to town, with one last stop for a fresh coconut water(coconut with a straw in it) and back to the hotel. Phan promises to help us make our way to the public bus the next day, and calls the hotel where we’d like to stay next—to finish up his incredibly generous and interesting day. Highlight of the trip so far!
No comments:
Post a Comment