Anne was surprised to find Vietnamese wine on the shelf but it was a little early in the day to sample it!
Yes - I know another haircut is overdue but I am working up the courage to try again
I had another lovely day today. Anne and I decided it was time for a decent bike ride so after a Vietnamese sleep-in (6:30) I biked to her house and we set off to ride over the bridge to the other side of the harbor. This relatively new bridge, built at considerable cost, is one of the longest in Vietnam. There is not yet much on the other side apart from quarries and sand hills but enormous billboards promise much more to come. It is destined to be an area of resorts and industry.
On the other side we rode down rutted tracks to visit a small village. It is great to get out of the city because in the rural areas life is so different. People in this village were living in tiny wooden houses and had sandy yards surrounded by rough stick fences. They seemed astonished to see us on their road and called out “foreigner” in Vietnamese to each other and “hello” to us as we made our way through the village. I would have loved to take photographs but it did not seem appropriate.
We considered riding back around the harbor but fortunately good sense prevailed and we went back the way we had come. The day became very hot and a strong wind made getting back quite a challenge. Our ride covered about 20 km which was plenty in the heat. My bike went really well handling the rough terrain with ease. I really like my hydraulically sprung seat! Thanks Chris, Anita, Tim and Laree – the bike is fantastic.
On the Quy Nhon side of the bridge there is a large area where the harbor is divided into fish farms. Small islands with houses, cemeteries and restaurants are linked with paths on narrow raised dykes and flimsy bridges. On the way back we stopped at one of the delightful little restaurants for a drink. We would like to have explored the area more but were unsure about which parts are private property. We decided that we will return to the restaurant a few times so we become known and hopefully we will get permission to have a good look around.
From the bridge we had good views of the fishing nets. They are an amazing sight. I have not yet been able to capture the essence of them with my camera. Suspended above the water, delicately colored with green and golden tones they have an ethereal quality that seems to get lost in every picture I attempt. I am hoping that one day I will have the opportunity to photograph them from the water – maybe that will be more successful.
After a great lunch of more fresh spring rolls I returned home to discover that the power which went off early in the morning was still not working. I think that this time it was because of some work they are doing to remove poles as part of the beautification project. It was not turned on again until well after dark. Not being able to turn on the fans made for a sweltering afternoon and cooking by candlelight was an adventure.
I have been trying to become more integrated with my neighborhood and to this end have been leaving my gate open whenever I am able to over the last few days. Most of the neighbors spend a lot of time sitting on their stoops chatting with one another. I feel that our habit of keeping the gate locked at times puts up an insurmountable barrier and has prevented me from getting to know people. Today I left it open as I washed my bike, watered the plants and disposed of another smelly dead rat. It worked like a charm. I noticed the woman from across the road lurking about the gate and went and asked her with sign language if she knew when the power would return. She soon invited me over to her house and when I asked her what work she did she showed me, in her lounge, a mysterious collection of dozens of plastic bags with a grey damp grey substance inside. I could not even begin to imagine what they were for. She disappeared into the back of her house and returned with large bags of dried fungus. She is growing and drying edible mushrooms.
She then led me by the hand upstairs to admire her extensive orchid collection. We had reached the limits of our sign language conversation but fortunately her daughter, who speaks some English arrived, and we were able to converse more. The daughter, a young teacher, and I have arranged to meet regularly to help each other with language. I am so pleased because I am very keen to get to know more Vietnamese people. It is lovely having the other volunteers to socialize with but I certainly don’t want to go back to New Zealand having only spent time with kiwis.
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