The lagoon near the shrimp farms
A hat left by one of the workers at the Cham towers
Easy Rider Donna
Some of the many brick kilns
A Cham tower
Harvesting rice
Houses in the paddy field villages
Donna waiting while directions are sought for the umpteenth time
Incense drying
At the conical hat makers' house
The raw materials for conical hats
The family and neighbors seeing us off
Festival practice
My First Visitor – 26 July 2008
It was a delight to have my first visitor to stay. A friend, Donna B who lives in Dubai used to be my boss at Wintec. She had recently been to NZ and came carrying a lovely package of gifts from my family. It was like Christmas receiving treats, photos, magazines, drawings and mementos from my family at home. Living with very few possessions makes things like this even more precious.
I had arranged to hire one of the work cars and drivers to collect Donna from the airport but uncharacteristically Dong forgot. After a series of frantic phone calls he was located and whipped me out to the airport in record time. At times I just closed my eyes as he barreled through villages and roared past buses and trucks. Fortunately Donna’s plane was a little late arriving and I was able to race into the airport just as she came through the doors. It was so lovely to see a face from home and fun seeing our landscape through her eyes as we traveled back to Quy Nhon. That evening we joined the other VSA volunteers and staff for end of the month dinner and drinks and then went on a bike ride around town. Poor Donna, it was her first time on a bike for a few years and the Quy Nhon streets are a chaotic place to regain your confidence.
The next day after a leisurely start and coffee by the sea we went riding again. Amongst other places we went to the Cham towers in the city and to the shrimp farm areas. By the time we returned home we both had bottoms that knew they had spent the day on a bike seat so in the evening we caught a cyclo when we went out for dinner. The poor driver, a slight man of mature years manfully pedaled both of us to Barbara’s Kiwi Café at the other end of the beach so we could have dinner and make final arrangements about our motorbike drivers for the following day.
The motorbike drivers were a couple of agreeable chaps who ensured that we had a fun and interesting day even though they were not as certain of the location of some things as they had said and we did not get to go to all of the places we had arranged. In search of a village where conical hats are made we traveled through the country side and up the coast before backtracking a considerable distance.
It is rice harvesting time at the moment so it was interesting to stop and watch workers rapidly feeding huge amounts of rice through a machine that swiftly separated the grains from the stalks. In the villages people were using large baskets to winnow the rice and everywhere it was spread to dry on tarpaulins on the side of the road. The straw was carted in enormous piles on carts drawn by cattle and little ponies (and sometimes even small tractors) to the houses where it was being gathered into tall stacks. I really love the form of these stacks. They are delightful organically shaped cones which are as tall as the houses they sit beside. All through the villages long legged, scrawny chickens were having wonderful time eating stray grains of rice.
While we were traveling we stopped to look at interesting sights such as brick kilns and Cham towers on the distant hills. Unfortunately when we went to visit some they gates were locked.
Finding the conical hat makers took a long time. We must have stopped to ask for directions about twenty times. I didn’t mind at all about the sidetracks and stops because it took us though interesting countryside and it was the first time I have been into any of the rice paddy villages. They are little communities with tightly clustered houses and many trees. On one of the stops we saw bundles of newly made incense drying in the sun.
It seemed increasingly unlikely that we would ever find the hat makers but eventually, down a narrow road in one of the villages, we came to the right house. It was by then afternoon and all of the residents were having their nap but they cheerfully got up and showed us their wares. I had not thought through, the now obvious fact, that they would expect that we would buy their products so it was a little bit awkward for a while. They were making very ornate hats which they intend to sell at the festival and, even if I was in the market for a conical hat, these are not the ones I would chose. When it became apparent to them, and the group of cheerful neighbors who had gathered in the small house, that they would not be making a sale they were still very welcoming and at Donna’s prompting showed us the materials and the process. It is painstaking work with very fine materials. Apparently it takes a day to make a normal hat and four days to make one of the decorative ones. I was really pleased to have made this visit as I am keen to see genuine handcrafters working.
Beside their house they had three cows in a pen. These pens built from posts and rough sawn timber, without nails, are ingenious in their construction. After photographs and warm farewells we went off in search of lunch. Unfortunately, it was a repeat of the previous day in town when I had left lunch arrangements until too late, and we had very little choice. After consuming a middling lunch of rice, eggs and tofu I arranged to use the bathroom. Getting there required passing through the outside cooking area which resulted in exposure to some pretty unsavory sights. As with many other small Vietnamese restaurants the cooking was done on small ceramic charcoal burners while the food preparation and dishes are all done at ground level. This kitchen was particularly grimy with greasy bowls of water being used for washing up, dank pots of boiling soup that looked as though they had been continuously added to for the last few weeks, chickens scratching amongst the peelings and mangy dogs hungrily waiting for any scraps that came there way. It was not an attractive sight!
We were still hoping to get to a reserve at Ham Ho but it became apparent that it was getting too late so we elected to visit to the Tay Son museum instead. As we were leaving there we were watching a group of young people practicing for the festival when it suddenly started to rain heavily. We enjoyed the sight of some youngsters playing in puddles as we waited out the worst of the rain under the shelter of a shop and then made our way back to Barbara’s where our drivers joined us for a drink before making their way home. For about NZ$24 plus tip each they had given us a great day’s sightseeing. The next morning Donna needed to be at the airline bus station by 6:15 so she left after a hurried farewell. Unfortunately, despite assurances the night before, the motorbike driver once again did not know where to go, so Donna was taken to the wrong place but she got it sorted and safely caught the flight to HCMC and on from there to Cambodia. Thank you for coming Donna – it was great having you here.
It was a delight to have my first visitor to stay. A friend, Donna B who lives in Dubai used to be my boss at Wintec. She had recently been to NZ and came carrying a lovely package of gifts from my family. It was like Christmas receiving treats, photos, magazines, drawings and mementos from my family at home. Living with very few possessions makes things like this even more precious.
I had arranged to hire one of the work cars and drivers to collect Donna from the airport but uncharacteristically Dong forgot. After a series of frantic phone calls he was located and whipped me out to the airport in record time. At times I just closed my eyes as he barreled through villages and roared past buses and trucks. Fortunately Donna’s plane was a little late arriving and I was able to race into the airport just as she came through the doors. It was so lovely to see a face from home and fun seeing our landscape through her eyes as we traveled back to Quy Nhon. That evening we joined the other VSA volunteers and staff for end of the month dinner and drinks and then went on a bike ride around town. Poor Donna, it was her first time on a bike for a few years and the Quy Nhon streets are a chaotic place to regain your confidence.
The next day after a leisurely start and coffee by the sea we went riding again. Amongst other places we went to the Cham towers in the city and to the shrimp farm areas. By the time we returned home we both had bottoms that knew they had spent the day on a bike seat so in the evening we caught a cyclo when we went out for dinner. The poor driver, a slight man of mature years manfully pedaled both of us to Barbara’s Kiwi Café at the other end of the beach so we could have dinner and make final arrangements about our motorbike drivers for the following day.
The motorbike drivers were a couple of agreeable chaps who ensured that we had a fun and interesting day even though they were not as certain of the location of some things as they had said and we did not get to go to all of the places we had arranged. In search of a village where conical hats are made we traveled through the country side and up the coast before backtracking a considerable distance.
It is rice harvesting time at the moment so it was interesting to stop and watch workers rapidly feeding huge amounts of rice through a machine that swiftly separated the grains from the stalks. In the villages people were using large baskets to winnow the rice and everywhere it was spread to dry on tarpaulins on the side of the road. The straw was carted in enormous piles on carts drawn by cattle and little ponies (and sometimes even small tractors) to the houses where it was being gathered into tall stacks. I really love the form of these stacks. They are delightful organically shaped cones which are as tall as the houses they sit beside. All through the villages long legged, scrawny chickens were having wonderful time eating stray grains of rice.
While we were traveling we stopped to look at interesting sights such as brick kilns and Cham towers on the distant hills. Unfortunately when we went to visit some they gates were locked.
Finding the conical hat makers took a long time. We must have stopped to ask for directions about twenty times. I didn’t mind at all about the sidetracks and stops because it took us though interesting countryside and it was the first time I have been into any of the rice paddy villages. They are little communities with tightly clustered houses and many trees. On one of the stops we saw bundles of newly made incense drying in the sun.
It seemed increasingly unlikely that we would ever find the hat makers but eventually, down a narrow road in one of the villages, we came to the right house. It was by then afternoon and all of the residents were having their nap but they cheerfully got up and showed us their wares. I had not thought through, the now obvious fact, that they would expect that we would buy their products so it was a little bit awkward for a while. They were making very ornate hats which they intend to sell at the festival and, even if I was in the market for a conical hat, these are not the ones I would chose. When it became apparent to them, and the group of cheerful neighbors who had gathered in the small house, that they would not be making a sale they were still very welcoming and at Donna’s prompting showed us the materials and the process. It is painstaking work with very fine materials. Apparently it takes a day to make a normal hat and four days to make one of the decorative ones. I was really pleased to have made this visit as I am keen to see genuine handcrafters working.
Beside their house they had three cows in a pen. These pens built from posts and rough sawn timber, without nails, are ingenious in their construction. After photographs and warm farewells we went off in search of lunch. Unfortunately, it was a repeat of the previous day in town when I had left lunch arrangements until too late, and we had very little choice. After consuming a middling lunch of rice, eggs and tofu I arranged to use the bathroom. Getting there required passing through the outside cooking area which resulted in exposure to some pretty unsavory sights. As with many other small Vietnamese restaurants the cooking was done on small ceramic charcoal burners while the food preparation and dishes are all done at ground level. This kitchen was particularly grimy with greasy bowls of water being used for washing up, dank pots of boiling soup that looked as though they had been continuously added to for the last few weeks, chickens scratching amongst the peelings and mangy dogs hungrily waiting for any scraps that came there way. It was not an attractive sight!
We were still hoping to get to a reserve at Ham Ho but it became apparent that it was getting too late so we elected to visit to the Tay Son museum instead. As we were leaving there we were watching a group of young people practicing for the festival when it suddenly started to rain heavily. We enjoyed the sight of some youngsters playing in puddles as we waited out the worst of the rain under the shelter of a shop and then made our way back to Barbara’s where our drivers joined us for a drink before making their way home. For about NZ$24 plus tip each they had given us a great day’s sightseeing. The next morning Donna needed to be at the airline bus station by 6:15 so she left after a hurried farewell. Unfortunately, despite assurances the night before, the motorbike driver once again did not know where to go, so Donna was taken to the wrong place but she got it sorted and safely caught the flight to HCMC and on from there to Cambodia. Thank you for coming Donna – it was great having you here.
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