Ho Chi Minh City or Da Nang

After what turned into a successful jaunt to the highlands and Yok Don National Park, I had to decide whether to return to Ho Chi Minh City of go on to Da Nang. On the one hand, Da Nang was in the direction I wanted to go, but I also had this wish to go see the circus. I wrestled with the choice and couldn't decide on the evening after I got back from my elephant ride. So I decided to get up early and go in to the bus company office and decide.

The next morning, I went in to the bus company and I was just too late to get to make the decision. The bus for Da Nang had just left and I was left with either going the next hour to Ho Chi Minh City, or staying in town until about 5 in the afternoon and go to Da Nang. When I asked how long it would take to go to Da Nang, I was told it would be 12 hours. That would mean sleeping on the bus. And that is exactly what I didn't want to do. So I headed back to Ho Chi Minh City. But on further consideration, partway back to Ho Chi Minh City, it occurred to me that the woman could actually have meant it would arrive at 12 midnight. She had told me that the trip back to Ho Chi Minh City would be 5 hours and I knew from coming that it was at least eight. However that would put us back at about 5 in the afternoon. So I figured that I could have made the decision based on wrong information. But I was on the way back anyway. Initially it was not very disappointing to think I could have made the wrong choice. It wouldn't be so bad to end up back in Ho Chi Minh City. We stopped at a rest stop nestled in the middle of forest. It was nice.

And then the gods seemed to start telling me that I had made the wrong decision. The clouds rolled in. The rains started. On and off all afternoon we passed through spurts of intense rain. Arriving in Ho Chi Minh City, we had hit a period of no rain. I attempted to find a bus to the Ben Thanh Market area which was right next to the area where I had stayed before. But the bus drivers all brushed me off and gave me no help at all. It took me juuuust too long to figure out where to get a bus and what bus to take. The rains started again. And they got harder and harder. And then the last buses on the route I wanted passed by without even trying to stop. It gradually became clear that I wasn't going to be catching a bus, as no other bus came along. While I was waiting, lots of moto-taxi drivers came up and asked where I was going. It was really annoying because it was raining buckets and they didn't seem to get it that I didn't want to get wet going to find a hotel. And then they would keep at it, like I was somehow going to change my mind about going out and getting wet. I really started getting short and brusque with them.

Eventually I gave up and, not wanting to trust a cab driver, I trudged to a nearby hotel. But they didn't have a licence to accept foreigners and were unable to house me for the night. But the guy running the place got me a taxi that he said would be legitimate to take me to Pham Ngu Lao. Hoping it would be so, and thinking that I was being punished for backtracking instead of heading on to Da Nang, I got in the cab. He drove straight to Pham Ngu Lao, and it cost the same as if I would have taken a moto-taxi. That, of course, left me wondering if the moto-taxis aren't charging too much to go to the bus station.

I got a place to stay and headed in for the night.

The next morning, I headed to see about attending the circus. I found the woman who had invited me but, alas, they were not having a performance this weekend. Sigh! More indications that I had made the wrong choice of destinations. I was allowed to go and see if any of the people I had met the other night were still there. They weren't. Sigh! I did take a couple of photos of their new big tent, though.

Then I went to a coffee shop to try and get a flight to Da Nang for the next day. And I couldn't get a connection for my laptop. Sigh!! I was beginning to feel really put-upon.

I walked back through the park and met the students who had talked to me before I headed up to the highlands. We talked for a while and then someone else came along. Three of us went to another coffee shop for a bite to eat. While we were there, the new addition Genia from Belarus, was able to give me some information about how to by-pass Vietnam's censorship of Facebook. It isn't possible to access Facebook in many places, from hotels to restaurants. There are some spots that do allow access, but it is hit and miss. Genia told me about a program that I could download and use to hide my access to the internet and make it seem I am somewhere else. Thus Vietnam's controls wouldn't block me from Facebook.

And that, in the end made my return trip to Ho Chi Minh City worthwhile. I was ready to get out of here though. So while we were at that coffee shop, I also managed to book a flight out for the next day. So long Ho Chi Minh City.

Continuing the Wild Goose Chase

After having failed miserably at finding anything about elephants on my first day in Ban Don, I headed out to the area for a second time, but still with not enough information about how to actually find a place that looks after elephants as though they are dignified, wild animals that should be rather free of human interference and in environments suited to their size. Of course, if I really found such a place, it would be unlikely that I would see any elephants because they would be out roaming in their habitat, acting like elephants. They wouldn't be in town shopping for grass or sitting in the local pub. But I did really want to know that elephants sent up here to live out the later years of their lives were actually treated well.

So I hopped on the bus and headed out for a second time to the Ban Don area, in particular looking for the Yok Don National Park. I had seen a sign alerting people to the presence of the park on the road the previous day, so I figured I would get off there and have a go. This was a typical sort of thing that I might do, actually. I get a hare-brained kind of idea and figure that in a countryside where I can't speak much of the language and I have no expectation of the people I meet being able to speak my language, with thousands of square kilometers of space around, I can just hop off a bus and wander around in the expectation that I will find exactly what I'm looking for. And yet, when I enact those sort of half-baked plans, things tend to turn out quite well. And often, I DO find what I'm looking for. I don't exactly know how it works that way, but it seems to.

As we passed the spot with the sign, I got off the bus. I don't know how I would have managed it if someone else hadn't been getting off at the same place, but I'm sure it would have been possible to pull the foolish visitor card and gone, “Oh, Yok Don, can I get off here?”, making some kind of flap about it and getting let off without too much consternation directed my way.

The sign pointed down a side road and it suggested that the park was 900 meters away. Tra-la-la la-la, I headed down the road. I passed by a number of shacks and houses and over a river. I thought I had gone quite a bit farther than 900 meters though. I was just on the point of giving up and abandoning my quest, when I found the spot advertised on the sign. Now... Was it what I was really looking for?

I went to the entrance and there was a ticket area. And then it seemed to be much like the village of Ban Don, except much smaller. And there were no elephants, not even waiting for eager tourists. But there were a bunch of other visitors to the spot. That was more promising. Other visitors is a good sign.

This very small community was also sitting right at the edge of the river, which was really raging this day. I guess there had been a lot of rain the previous night. There was also a little collection of rope and bamboo bridges, but much less extensive than in the village of the previous day.

The river at this point was also quite large.

Then I went and investigated the very small village. There were little huts, where I presumed people live, but they didn't look lived in.

And then I found something interesting. Under a shelter, there were two of what looked to be elephant graves. Perhaps I was on to something. If I had found a place where they loved elephants enough to bury them with seeming honour, could this be something of a sanctuary place for old elephants?

And then the rain started. I went to the restaurant to wait it out, and get some lunch. In the restaurant, I was served by a woman who also talked to me a bit. I asked her if there were elephants around, and she said, “No. Sorry.” This was not abruptness on her part. Her English just wasn't strong. She waved that they were off in the jungle. Another good sign. Then a man who seemed to be kind of in charge of the operation of this area came up to me and he asked me what I thought. I asked him also about the elephants. He told me there were four that were attached to this place, but they were off on a trek and would be back around five o'clock. I said that was too bad. I also asked him how they were treated. He told me that during the day the elephants were in the village, but at night they would be off in the jungle across the river.

So it seemed that I would not be seeing any elephants, but I was more comfortable that elephants brought here for retirement were actually finding a reasonable life. Then Huong the waitress came back and talked to me some more. I asked her about Yok Don National Park. She told me it was vast and extended into Cambodia. I had read that there were lots of protected animals in the park, among them the elephants as well as tigers and a couple of other animals. I asked her about the huts in the village here. She told me that visitors can stay in them. She asked if I was going to stay. I would have, but my stuff was all back in Buon Ma Thuot. When I explained that I would have to go and get my stuff and then come back, we both agreed that that would take a long time and I would be too tired. But it would have been a fun thing to do, I think.

I learned about some of the culture as well. I learned they live communally there. They do live in houses like those in which visitors can stay. But it seemed this family or group lived in the structure above the restaurant. Across from the restaurant was a long house. Inside they have ceremonies and there were lots of instruments that are played during the ceremonies. I also learned about how to tell if a woman in the group is single or married. During the working day, all the people wear traditional-ish clothing. This includes a sarong-like skirt. If a woman is single the ties for fastening the sarong are visible. If the woman is married, the ties are hidden, tucked inside. The culture there also seems to be matriarchal, but I couldn't figure out how to frame the questions so that she would know what I was talking about, so I don't know for sure. But the things I saw suggested that women are very important in much of what happens in how they celebrate and make various offerings or gestures to the gods.

Then Huong told me about the long house just opposite. She told me there was music inside and I should go and see it. I asked her when. She said it was all the time. Then she took me to show me. First we climbed up a little ladder to get inside. There was actually a little set of stairs on the side, but she took me up this ladder. She called it “Mama”. There were two breast-like things on it. She grabbed them to steady herself as she went up the ladder. When I didn't do the same, she got a bit annoyed and made me do it properly. Hmmm...

Inside she showed me drums and dugout canoes and some gongs. At the end there was an old man who played some interesting musical instruments made of bamboo. I didn't think to take any photos though. Oops. But there was a horn that looked like bagpipes. And a xylophone thing as well.

Next she took me up to see the elephants' graves again. She explained that they had died and they had buried them because they were like the community's family.

Then we went back out to the restaurant, where I said good-bye to Huong. I also got her to take a photo with me. But as I was preparing to leave, the man who had talked to me earlier, Tru, told me to wait. There was an elephant coming in twenty minutes. I wasn't sure if he had called an elephant to come just for me, but I didn't want to be rude and leave, so I stayed. Sure enough, an elephant trundled in from the road a short time later. I went out to look at it. And then Tru asked me if I wanted to go for a ride. I inquired about the price which wasn't too bad. And then I thought about it. This place seemed to care for their elephants. I could hope that the money raised by giving rides to tourists is used to benefit the elephants and help with their care. It seemed likely, and so I decided that I would go for a ride. The elephant was saddled up, but seemed a bit ornery and so it took a little while. There was also a couple of bouts of rain in between and it all took a little over an hour before the elephant was ready to go. In the meantime, I talked with Huong some more. And then I asked her if she was going on the elephant with me. I had thought it was just a way to chat, and I was surprised when she said she would come. That was nice. Unfortunately, soon after we boarded the elephant, it began to rain. Heavily. I was not able to get a photo of us on the elephant as a result, but I did get a few of the elephant browsing through the vegetation to get something to eat.

And of some of the scenery.

And proof that Huong came with me.

After the elephant ride, I was going to go and catch the bus back to town. But Huong stopped me and told me that Tru would take me back to town in his car. I was a bit leery of that and how much it might cost, but it had started raining again, and I had no umbrella, so I was a bit stuck. I accepted. And he took me right to my hotel. And he didn't charge me a thing. That was a pleasant surprise.

So I had seen something of the fate of retired elephants and elephants rescued from bad situations. And I had met some nice people in an ethnic village in the central highlands of Vietnam. This little side adventure had been quite successful.

A Wild Goose Chase? My Search For an Elephant Sanctuary Begins

While chatting with Elizabeth and Michel, they told me about a trip she had taken on one of her trips. She had gone up to the Vietnamese highlands to a place called Dak Lak. There she had visited an elephant sanctuary. I don't recall if she rode an elephant or just went and had the experience of seeing them and visiting with the ethnic peoples in the area. In truth, I'm not really sure all that she did during her visit. I really only heard elephant sanctuary and thought that, gosh, it would be nice to go and see elephants being taken care of.

Once we returned to Ho Chi Minh City, we went to a travel office to see how to go to Dak Lak. We were told by the office we visited that they only did tours that involved Cambodia. Odd. Random. It was a tour office, and it was blowing us off because we weren't after the right one. We didn't pursue anything more that evening. I told Elizabeth that I would check things out the next day. We parted with plans to meet the next evening for her party with the circus people. I was out looking for some snack after that and I passed another travel office, and the lady inside beckoned me in. I don't know why exactly I went in, but I did. And I asked her how to get to Dak Lak. She asked me where in Dak Lak. It turned out that Dak Lak was a province and quite large. I explained about the elephant sanctuary and she understood. She told me I would be best to go to a city called Buon Ma Thuot and that the elephants were in a place called Buon Don.

I told her I would go and look things up and then get back to her. This I did and the next day, I booked a ticket to Buon Ma Thuot with her. Then she wrote some places down that I might want to visit. She wrote them in Vietnamese because, she told me, very few people speak any English in the area there. I could show them these place names and then the people I met would be able to know what I was looking for and help me. I wasn't sure it was going to be all that difficult, but I was grateful for the extra help she gave me.

I was to be at the office ready to go at 6:15. Yikes!! Oh well, it was going to be an interesting time, I was sure. I presented myself at the office at the appointed time. And I waited. And I waited. I was supposed to be taken to the bus station to catch a bus to Buon Ma Thuot at 7:00, and that was supposed to take about half an hour. By 6:45, I was thinking it wasn't going to happen, at least not the way it was supposed to happen. It ended up that I was told that the bus was delayed and would be leaving at 9 instead. Drat! I could have slept longer. Oh well. And I'm not sure that they just didn't know that I was supposed to be on such and such bus leaving from the bus station. But I will cut the whole thing some slack. Eventually I did get on a bus to Buon Ma Thuot and it all worked out, so whoever did or didn't know what really doesn't matter.

The trip was fairly uneventful. The one thing of note was our lunch stop. I walked in to the rest stop restaurant area. It was naturally catering to Vietnamese. (If there are ever lots of tourist types who visit Buon Ma Thuot, it's not during this season. I also somehow doubt that lots of people do visit the area, just because the road is sooooooooooo bad. Huge potholes, lake-like puddles, gravel, one paved lane and people weaving all over to avoid everything created a chaotic trip for most of the way.) I walked into the restaurant and I must have looked a bit bewildered. Or maybe it was just the way the security guard acted with all foreign visitors. He was almost elderly, but had a kindly face. He also spoke English. He walked right up to me and asked if I was going to eat. I said yes, and he took me by the elbow and led me over to the buffet-style counter and helped me pick out a couple of things and then took me to a table where I could eat. He told me how it would cost and then took my money to go and pay and bring back the change. I do suspect that perhaps I ended up paying a little bit more than I would have had I tried to manage on my own, but only by a dollar at the most. And he was very kind.

They also had a couple of elephant statues out front, so I figured I was on the right track.

When we still were about an hour from Buon Ma Thuot we stopped. A bunch of people got on the bus and suddenly we were overly full. One of the new people sat down by me, where others kind of did the oh-no-a-foreigner-I-can't-possibly-sit-there-I-might-be-expected-to-talk-to-him-so-I-will-just-not-sit-there-and-pretend-that-nothing-is-out-of-the-ordinary-about-the-situation thing. And he spoke some English. He immediately explained. There had been some sort of accident with their bus. I guess they had been waiting for rescue for some time. From what I could gather from the conversation (and it was a bit difficult as his English wasn't really, really good and my Vietnamese is, of course, dreadful), they were going to be four hours late by the time we arrived. Yikes!! But he was nice and it was good to spend the last hour or so talking with someone.

(By the way, don't try to hard to pronounce any of these names. I have been trying to say things and almost none of the vowels sound like the “should” according to what we would think from English pronunciation. And it's another tonal language like Chinese, so that makes it even more difficult.)

Once we reached Buon Ma Thuot, I walked across the street to the nearest hotel and asked about a room. It was a nice looking hotel and it was cheaper than anything I had found in Ho Chi Minh City. Ah! I love off the beaten track. By the time I had checked in, it had started raining. Actually raining wasn't really the correct description. It was bucketing down. The desk clerk loaned me an umbrella and told me where I could find something to eat, at the supermarket across the street and on the second floor. With the rain, I didn't feel like searching around for anything I had read about on Wikitravel for Buon Ma Thuot, so I just headed there. Through gestures of helplessness and an indication of wanting something to eat, I got myself a nice pork dish on rice. Then as I was going to sit down, they stopped me. There was more. I got some soup as well. And I had gotten a can of root beer. The price for this rather tremendous meal was a bit under 2 dollars. Ah! I love off the beaten track.

While I was eating there were three girls sitting at another table. They were probably 12 or 14 years old and they seemed to find me quite fascinating. Then they got up and crowded around me and started sitting with me to take photos. Despite feeling a bit like some kind of pet, it also left me feeling like a rock star. I do like going places where not many foreigner travellers/tourists go. The people in such places are just interested in you and like to be around you. They don't really want anything from you like money or stuff like that. They just want to experience you as a visitor, or perhaps some kind of curiosity or anomaly. It's refreshing to me.

After dinner, I went back to the hotel to see if I could find out anything about this place with the elephants. One thing I am not so good is really thinking through what I'm going to do when I decide to go somewhere. So while I was excited about the idea of an elephant sanctuary when Elizabeth told me about her adventure, I hadn't actually considered how I was going to find it. I had a name of a village, and a general sort of direction, but not much in the way of practical information. The guy at the front desk told me, when I asked, that there was a bus. The station where I could catch the bus was 2 kilometers away. Of course, I neglected to ask in what direction or what number the bus might have or anything like that. I was just like, great, there's a bus, that's all I need to know. I really do need to adjust my approach, I think. But then it's often this sort of unplanned adventure with little to no actual practical information that I find to be the most rewarding in the end. In any case, I had some vague idea of what I was looking for. I decided I could ask the desk guy more in the morning. And I went to bed.

Only, once again, I hadn't considered the fact that the guy might not be there in the morning to ask. And he wasn't. Hmmmmm... How was I going to find this bus? I had an idea. I figured that the people at the bus company might know the place and the bus in question. So I went to their office and asked. She had absolutely no idea what I meant. She tried to tell me I could hire a car and driver and go out there. She looked a bit shocked when I told her that would be too expensive and that I wanted to go out on the bus. She knew the bus I meant and kind of pointed vaguely in a direction that she thought might be helpful. Okaaay. I started walking. I was looking around for anything that might indicate a useful bus. I did find a bus shelter with a bus listed that had my destination on it. But I really didn't know how to recognize it if and when it came along. I didn't even know if I was going to be going in the right direction if I did catch it. I decided that I would need to have some help. I normally have an aversion to anything to do with the guys on motorbikes. I just have this idea that too many are out to sucker the traveller. Perhaps it's harsh to paint them all with the same brush, but in the end you can't tell who is going to sucker you and who isn't. So I normally avoid them all. But if I was to stand any chance of finding the bus I wanted, I was going to have to turn to someone. I decided on one of the motorbike guys since they would probably know what I was looking for, if I could communicate effectively enough what it was that I was looking for. We did end up agreeing that I was looking for Xe Buyt Ban Don, which I was hoping meant either bus stop for Ban Don or Ban Don bus route. We agreed on a price and I hopped on. He took me to the center of town, somewhere, and dropped me at a sign that suggested the bus for Ban Don would stop there. Yea!!! I paid him and then waited. It was only 10 in the morning and it looked as though I might have found what I was needing to make my day. I could get out there and do something, perhaps even something with elephants, and get back to town later. I had been told that Ban Don was about an hour away, so there should have been plenty of time if I could get on a bus somewhere in the next three quarters of an hour to an hour.

And yea, the bus came about 20 minutes later. Full to the rafters. I had to squeeze on. And then hold on. The road was a bit rough and very windy. There were a couple of people on the bus who spoke a bit of English. They talked to me and asked where I was heading. As they were talking to me, others heard my destination. And now the helpless foreigner, who was a curiosity and was talking nicely to the locals had a busload of people on his side to make sure he got off at the right spot. And when the bus stopped for gas, the two people who spoke English wanted to take photos with the nice foreigner. I did get one email address to send a photo to. The other is just for my records I guess.

At the correct time, a bunch of people pointed at me and jabbered something that I took to mean that it was time for me to get off the bus. I did. They smiled. I had done the right thing. So there I was in the little hamlet of Ban Don. And I had not much information about what there was about the place that was worth going to see. Except that there were elephants around somewhere in some kind of elephant sanctuary.

Aha!! A map!!

And behind me was a rather sad sight. Chained to some trees were three elephants with riding seats on their backs. I guess they were just sitting around waiting for tourists to come along for a ride. And nothing I saw on the map suggested that there was a sanctuary anywhere nearby. I was a bit saddened. Now, to be fair, the elephants didn't look to be in ill-health or to be ill-treated in any way. They looked quite healthy, in fact. But instead of having a large to roam around, or even being free in a big forest, they had the amount of circular space traced by the chains around their legs. And again, I have no idea of their housing when there is no expectation of visits by tourists with money wanting to go for a ride. Which, to be honest, was what I was. I had come with the idea that maybe I would want to go for a ride. When I saw the elephants that way, though, my enthusiasm was dampened. I decided against the ride. Of course that left me with the question of what I was going to do with myself, having taking all the time and effort to get out to Ban Don.

On the map there seemed to be an area of interest just nearby. So I went poking around and found an entrance ticket booth for... Um... Something. I wasn't sure what, but it was only 50 cents, and I had come all that way. So I paid and headed in. I found myself at a swaying rope and bamboo bridge. That looked like fun. The guy at the entrance who processed my ticket (ten feet away from the ticket booth; I wonder sometimes if things are done like that to give more people an actual job; I mean why couldn't the people in the ticket booth process the ticket?), then gestured me onto the bridge and wanted my camera. He took a bunch of photos of me on the bridge in various spots. It was kind of strange. I felt a bit like I was doing some kind of photo shoot for some fashion magazine. Except, of course, I ain't no model, I'm not glamorous, and it was far away from anything that could remotely be called fashionable. And then I expected that he would hold out his hand for some kind of photographer's fee. I suppose I will never fully relax because of all the people who do hold out their hands after doing something “nice.” It does suck though that all the rest get painted with the same brush. The guy didn't want anything. He just seemed to want me to have some mementos.

There were a bunch of those bridges that connected trees and an island in the middle of a fairly raging sort of river. On the island were some tourist shopping kiosks and a restaurant, and no people manning any of them. It really must have been out of season. And yet, clearly they do have enough visitors at some point in time. But I was pretty much alone, although a couple of other people, who I took to be Vietnamese, came through a while later, taking photos of themselves on the bridges and in the trees and such.

And still I had seen nothing of an elephant sanctuary. I was feeling a bit disappointed by that, but then the community was one of the ethnic peoples of Vietnam. I figured that even if I wasn't going to see how elephants are rehabilitated from either abusive environments or from some kind domestication, I could at least wander around the community and see what was what.

I wandered through town for a little while. It wasn't a very big village and I was soon on the other end of it. But while I had been sitting on the island enjoying the view out over the river and forests on the other side, clouds had begun to gather. Big, dark, menacing clouds. At the end of the village, the clouds decided to do what clouds do. It began to rain. I headed back towards the beginning of the village. I had seen a restaurant there and I figured I could get some lunch. But the rain got heavy quickly and I had to duck under an awning to wait it out. Someone inside the house where I was seeking refuge came out and asked if she could help me. I got a coke and she gave me a seat, then she went back inside.

She was watching a television show. When I glanced at it, I was surprised to find that, out here in a little village in the Vietnamese countryside peopled by an ethnic people of the country, they were watching a Korean drama. There is no escaping Korea, I guess. I don't ever see anyone watching an episode of Due South. Oh well.

I watched the rain for a bit. When it lessened, I went to the restaurant and got some lunch. Then I headed back to Buon Ma Thuot, having been unsuccessful in my search for an elephant sanctuary.

Despite the disappointment of not discovering the fate of rescued or retired elephants, other than the rather depressing thought that they were at the beck and call of tourists looking for a thrill, I still found Buon Ma Thuot rather charming and I decided to stay another day. In the information online, there was something about an actual visit to an ethnic village that was just on the north edge of town. I decided that I could do that.

But after I got off the bus, much closer to where I was staying than I the spot where I had caught the bus, I passed a hotel that advertised eco-tours to Yok Don National Park, home of elephants and other animals. Hmmm... I also remembered passing a big sign pointing at Ban Don Tourist Area. Perhaps I could find something after all. So I stopped in and talked to a woman in the office. She spoke some English and told me if the weather was good, it would be good to go. I decided that if the weather was good, I would go to this other spot the next day and give things one more chance.

Then it was time to find some dinner. Across the street from the hotel was a bunch of little restaurants. Most seemed to serve the Vietnamese noodle soup, and one jumped up at my approach. So I went to that place and they gave some noodle soup and a soft drink for the stunning price about a dollar fifty.

Satisfied, I went in for the night and looked a couple of things up on the internet. I discovered that the bus I took out to Ban Don actually stopped at the supermarket right across the street. And it was one of the first stops, so I would have gotten a seat. Research, such a help. I should try it more often.

Another Time When I Got to Say Something I Never Thought I Would

While I was on the Mekong delta tour, I met an older couple from France, Elizabeth and Michel.

I was able to practice using some of my long unused French. And while my vocabulary sucks after all this time, I was able to understand most of what they said and I still had enough vocabulary to be able to make myself understood as well. Initially I thought they were here on a vacation, as they were at or close to retirement age, but they weren't. Well, to be accurate, Elizabeth wasn't. She was here on business, and Michel was tagging along for the ride.

Elizabeth puts on events, specifically a circus in France. I don't know if that's all she does, but that seemed to occupy much of her time, what with planning the month of shows, the venues, the hotels, the meals, the transportation, the entertainment times for the performers, and all the rest that goes into executing an entertainment show. She was here in Vietnam for the 9^th year to work with a circus here to bring some of their performers to France for next year's event. And, in between getting that handled, there was time for she and her husband to take in some of what Vietnam has to offer. Hence, the trip to the Mekong delta where I met them.

We got to be quite chatty during the trip and by the end of it, Elizabeth invited me to a party she was having to celebrate the successful arrangements of choosing the performers who would travel to France next summer. As I have no particular itinerary, I decided to stay an extra day in Ho Chi Minh City and attend the party.

Before I get to that, my staying for the extra day meant having a day to fill. I had nothing in particular that I wanted to see in the city. I had taken in pretty much all the things I thought to be interesting, so I just wandered around in the parks near the backpackers area. While I was sitting reading in the park, first one university student approached me to talk, then others. Soon I was in the midst of ten or twelve students who just wanted to talk and have a chance to practice some English. It was fun. I like meeting people like that.

When I took my leave of them, I headed over to the party at the circus venue, near where I was staying. And I met many circus performers. So it was that I was sitting under a circus tent cover thing with a number of beautiful and flexible women circus performers. (This is something that I never imagined that I would put into words: “So some beautiful, flexible women circus contortionists and I were sitting having a party one night...” Rather like never thinking I would ever say something like: “So these five attractive Filipina nurses and I went island hopping for the day...”)

Life on the Mekong Delta

After first arriving in the Mekong delta city of Chau Doc and then travelling to Ho Chi Minh City through the delta, I decided that I wanted to experience more of what life is like there. So one of the tours I booked out of Ho Chi Minh City was a two-day tour into the Mekong delta.

As I travelled to Ho Chi Minh City from Chau Doc, one thing I noticed was that water was everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. Every few minutes we were passing over another river or canal of varying size. The road travelled past flooded rice paddies. People were on boats. Their houses were on stilts. There were dikes everywhere to hold back the waters during times of flood. Clearly, life in the delta seemed to be dominated by the moods of the waters of the Mekong. I hoped the two days I would be spending there would give me a better understanding of how it all worked.

But first, I noticed a building that was across from the office of the tour operator. There are loads of buildings like this one all over Vietnam. They are thin and very narrow, not really much wider than the width of a room. Yet they are deep as well. They might be only be three or four meters wide, but they might 20 or 30 deep. Before the strangeness of the buildings ever registered on my mind, someone told me the reason why buildings are like this. It seems that at one time, the Vietnamese king decided to base taxation on the frontage of a property as opposed to the area of the property. And so, people built narrow houses.

Then it was off to the delta. Our first stop was rather inconsequential. At least it was to me. There was a really interesting temple where we stopped for about 45 minutes. The outer architecture was Khmer, while the inner architecture was distinctly Buddhist. I think. After seeing temples and temples and more temples lately, I just didn't really care. But the stop was a good one as a bathroom stop.

Then it was time to take to the water. We climbed aboard a boat and set out on the Mekong River.

It was the rainy season and the water was quite high. And brown. Stuff floated by, some of it was trash, but a lot of it was vegetation of various sorts. Our guide told us that the Mekong is always brown. On the trip from Cambodia, Mai told me it was green in the dry season. I'm not sure who is correct. I suppose that in the delta area, it could always be brown, but farther up, in Cambodia, it could also be greed in the dry season. The time I spent around the Mekong, though, it was definitely brown.

There was a lot of activity on the river. There were many boats travelling up or down, or across the river. Along the shores there were houses, businesses, shacks, and all manner of construction that could be imagined.

People live because of the river. Some ply the shores with little nets, trying to catch fish.

Others use bigger nets and their boats.

And groups use great nets to do the catching of the fish.

Yet others take a chance to rest, on their boats, waiting for the next time of activity.

We had crossed the river to an island. It was big island for the middle of a river. But then it's a big river.

We went to the island to visit a coconut candy factory. It was a small, family-run deal, but a factory nonetheless. And we were naturally given the opportunity to buy some confections, after being tempted with a free taste. I did buy some chocolate coconut candy.

Then it was into small four person boats for a short trip through the bamboo and mangroves along a small river, for a taste of the true river experience. I'm not sure how true the experience was, artificially set up with us in a long row of boats travelling along a short stretch of uninhabited river area, rowed by some Vietnamese who were likely specially trained to be “typical” Vietnamese, you know the ones that aren't out making their living fishing and trading and such. But it was a nice little trip anyway.

Then it was a walk to a fruit farm for some fruit (part of the tour fee, but any extra fruit would be paid for), and a spot of traditional music.

Then we headed to Can Tho to get our hotel and dinner. It was a holiday weekend in Vietnam, the celebration of independence from France. There was a fairly large market on the street that night.

The next morning, bright and early, very bright and early, we got up and headed to the wharf to go and see the floating market of Can Tho, the biggest city in the Mekong delta. The market also happens to be the biggest in the delta. This market is supported by the government and is a tourist attraction. Nevertheless, it is a true working market and business is conducted there in earnest. However, the guide told us that the market is subsidized by the government. There is a tax that is paid by everyone who brings something to the market, but it seems to be a token fee, at least to our Western sense of costs. It could well be that the 15000 Vietnamese Dong that is charged to each vendor (coming to about 75 cents) per day of participation is actually quite high to the Vietnamese. However, given the government's apparent participation in the cost of operation, it could be quite a bit higher. The reason the government helps to underwrite the market is that tourists come to see it. No market, no tourists, or so the guide spelled it out. That could be the truth. In any case, in this market people come to make big purchases and trades. It is where wholesale deals are done. People come into the market from their farms and such and sell a lot to the big wholesalers. They sell to other smaller dealers, who then take the produce out to smaller markets in the region and sell the goods there. And so it goes up and down the market food chain. There are smaller deals done in this market as well, and it all happens from boat to boat, big and small, on the river some distance from the city center of Can Tho. And it is quite a fascinating thing to watch.

There were boats all over the center of the river. It looked a bit like chaos, but there was logic to it all. Our first encounter with anyone though was with someone who recognized an opportunity when he saw it. Tourists mean money moving along the edges of the market. And some of those tourists are hungry (particularly given the hour of the morning), or thirsty. Bring bananas or other fruit and some choices of things to drink, and a persistent entrepreneur can make a buck or two out there. So a guy with two of his sons came alongside. And the two kids were cute. The younger one at one point sold a drink and the person who bought it gave the money to the older one, but the young fellow grabbed it from him and stuffed it adroitly into his pocket. It was an amusing exchange.

Then it was time to turn our attention back to the market. The logic of it was explained to us. Almost anything was for sale in the market. We really only saw produce on sale though. In any case, whatever a boat had for sale had to be advertised somehow. A boat would accomplish that by use of a pole that rose high above the boat in the air. On the poles would be one example of each of what the boat had on hand for sale. Some boats only had one thing on their poles, for instance pineapples. Other boats were more supermarket-like. They would have numerous items on their poles. Then people in the market for something would just look about for what they needed and head to that boat.

Having marvelled at the functioning of the floating market, we headed up a side river to a rice paper factory. We watched the full process of how rice noodles are made. In the first area we saw how they wash the rice and other ingredients. We saw how they mash the ingredients, one half rice and one half tapioca powder, together. We saw how they cook and stir the mash up and then drain it into buckets. We saw how they put the rice cakes into a cutter to make the noodles. He-e-e-y, wait a minute. Where did the noodles come from? Oh, the various areas were a bit out of order.

We headed into the back room. There, we saw a couple of stoking ovens, fueled by rice husks that were stuffed into the fires beneath. Above, the two teams poured ladles of the rice meal/tapioca mixture onto the cooking pads to steam-cook them. Then one member of each team removed the rice papers from the cooking pads and placed them on drying racks.

Once full, the drying racks were placed out in the sun for two hours to dry them to a consistency that would make good noodles.

This was all a family operation and from the number of drying racks out in the sun, it seemed they make a looooooooooooooooooot of noodles.

Back out at the river we headed to another fruit farm, where we paid for the fruit we ate this time. But before eating we wandered around the farm looking at things like the rather odd-looking dragonfruit tree.

And how pineapples grow on the ground. Careful, don't pick one, or you'll be fined 100 000 Vietnamese Dong (about 5 dollars).

And because we were told that if we hadn't done it yet, then we hadn't truly been to the Mekong delta, we took our turns climbing over the rather precarious monkey bridge at the farm. Then it was into the dining area for a serving of fruit, in my case a little bit too much pineapple. I had had too much pineapple in the past couple of days and this helping burnt my tongue to the point that I couldn't taste much for the rest of the day. Oops!!

And then it was time to head back to the hotel for lunch before the long drive back to Ho Chi Minh City. The insight into life in the delta was fascinating. I wonder if there is that much going on in the delta of the Mississippi.