We've decided it's time to unlearn and relearn what it means to live in Vietnam. In just the past few days we've been out and about and find ourselves seeing things with new eyes again. Probably it has a little to do with the normal cycle of culture absorption and a little to do with the calendar--new eyes for a new year? We've realized that when we first came every impression, every experience, was filtered through a screen of "It's HOT." I would see palm tree lined promenades and wonder who would ever walk there--indeed, they were always empty. Street restaurants served food early and then closed up shop, for who would want to hang about in an oven? Much better to stay indoors with the fan on and the shades drawn. You may remember us writing about trying to pick up the rhythm of life here and go along with it. What we didn't know then was that we were seeing a summer rhythm. In spite of the fact that this has been an unusually dry rainy season, there is a rainy season rhythm that's ingrained in people whether the weather really cooperates or not. Now that we have pleasant temperatures nearly all the time, and not nearly as much rain as the weather websites say we have, we are learning a whole new side to life in Vietnam.
Like walking. We used to shudder at the thought of walking more than a couple blocks to find a taxi. No one was out walking. If you weren't creating the breeze of a bicycle or motorbike, or enjoying the A/C of a taxi, you weren't moving. The only exception to this was if you were on the beach, in the early morning or late afternoon/evening. Now we see groups of men or women (always separately) walking around the neighborhood for exercise. I've suddenly remembered the palm-lined riverfront and have taken to walking there. Today a friend of ours took Anna and me to a craft supply store across the street from "29th of March Park." The park has a lake in the center and beautiful gardens and paths around it, and every other time I've seen it it has just looked like a place to be hot. Today I found it irresistible, and we had a lovely stroll around it. A funny side note--our friend got stopped several times by people wanting to know how she had found some foreigners to practice being a tour guide on. They were university students majoring in tourism wanting some extra experience.
The other thing we're re-evaluating is food stalls: who's serving what, and when. We've written before about how everything closed up tight after lunch, but that lunch was over by 11;30 or so. Now it's not so crucial that you get out of the mid-day heat, so it's possible to still find lunch at 12:30 or even 1:00--maybe 12:59 at the latest. Breakfast, also, is a more lingering meal. If you've got to be off to school or work you'll be gone by 7:00, but if your schedule doesn't require you to be out so early, why not sleep in a bit and eat at 8:30?
I've been re-exploring our neighborhood street food, and I have a new favorite. Many of the stalls are served out of someone's front room, spilling onto the sidewalk but with indoor seating as well. The family lives upstairs. My new favorite is nothing so fancy. There's a demolished building with one brick wall, about 5 feet tall, still standing along the sidewalk. It's at the entrance of a narrow street with a furniture repair business blocking most of one end and this "restaurant" at the other. Probably the mother/daughter pair that runs this stand lives in one of the houses there but uses the corner for their business. They have a series of tarps tied up to provide shelter for their cooking area, which consists of several charcoal burning "stoves" and an "oven" area for keeping bread warm. They serve a noodle soup with fish, some kind of purple rice porridge, and baguette sandwiches. I like the soup best, with a plain baguette for dipping. The broth is a little richer than pho or the other beef soup we like, with cracked black pepper bits and a smattering of green herbs floating around. The noodles are thicker than spaghetti and a little square, but they cut easily with a spoon so you can eat them without making a mess. Actually, I've been surprised that there are no chopsticks provided, only spoons. There are large chunks of fish and pieces of "fish cake" in the soup for protein.
You may not think that fish noodle soup sounds good for breakfast, but I had an epiphany today about why I love this place in all its dinginess so much. Picture this: you're camping. It's morning and you haven't made any breakfast at your campsite yet. It's been raining all night and looks like it might start again at any time, so everyone has makeshift coverings out of colorful tarps, trying to create a place to cook and a place to eat that's out of the rain. You're doing a little morning stroll around the campsite before heading back to fry some eggs or eat instant oatmeal when you see that someone else has a huge, steaming pot of a hearty soup and they're dishing up big bowls of noodles for their family. Somehow they've managed to get fresh-baked bread that they're keeping warm over a low fire, and the fish came out of the lake that morning. Your jaw drops and your mouth waters. Yes, you'd rather eat a nourishing, flavorful soup this morning than that packet of instant oatmeal you have at camp! Then you're invited to pull up a chair and share in the feast. You're not sure how clean the dishes are (this is camping, after all), but eating outdoors in the morning air takes care of all that. If you're someone who likes camping and who thinks that dining outdoors makes all food taste better, then you would also love to eat streetfood with me here.
I haven't taken pictures that go with what I wrote about, but I do have lots of pictures of how we spent Christmas. I'll let them tell their own story:
A Video of the Beach: https://youtu.be/ep8zxYdNzo8
No comments:
Post a Comment