Antidote to Burnout

Rural Vietnamese farmhouses

Since we visited over 20 families around the Tết (Lunar New Year) season in Đẳk Lẳk, I had an opportunity to see over 20 farm and village houses in this rural province.  The home of my friend's family was very representative of them all.

While their house was the typical masonry (extruded clay block) covered with plaster, many of the houses were constructed of wood framing and rough siding.  In the early 1980s, the government encouraged villagers from poor northern provinces to relocate to Dak Lak and plant coffee.  They distributed the land free but the recipients were obligated to clear the native forests, build a house, and plant coffee trees.  This is very similar to the "homestead" laws in the United States in the late 19th century that settled the western states.  All of the families I met (except for the indigenous "minority" tribespeople) had come from Nghệ An Province (on the coast between Hanoi and Huế).

Because the forests yielded substantial lumber, a majority of the rural houses in these central highland provinces are made of wood on a concrete platform.

The general plan and furnishings of both the wood and masonry houses were pretty much the same, however.

The entry doorway (almost always at the left front side of the house) enters into a sitting room.

The furniture almost always consists of a cabinet below a high wall-mounted altar shelf, a coffee table, one long wood bench, and two wood chairs.  I never saw a cushion in all the houses I visited, including in the city of Buôn Ma Thuột.  The chairs are rather deep in the seat, which can become uncomfortable (for westerners like me, at least) after a half-hour of sitting.  The four young men in the photo were the home's first visitors on the first day of the Lunar New Year (at 3:00 am).  My friend is seated at the front of the photo.  They all went out to visit some other friends at 4:00 am.

This new house in Buôn Ma Thuột shows the same features, but the altar is a very modern adaptation of the normal altar shelf.

The young woman in the photo (visiting her parents from HCMC) is an architecture and design student in my English group, and she designed this house.

If a large party is held, the furniture is moved outside and grass mats are laid down on the floor for dining and drinking.

For normal meals, the grass mats are laid down on the floor of the adjacent bedroom that has ample space in front of the TV set.

There were three bedrooms in my friend's family house, but the beds were all very typical in all of the houses I saw; there are no mattresses, and the grass mats are laid over wood slats.  Mosquito nets are put up each evening (although there were significantly fewer bugs than what I experience daily in Ho Chi Minh City).

Laundry and bathing, with a jug of water to throw over oneself, takes place in the bath house.

Kitchens range from spartan to quite modern, with cabinets similar to western-style kitchen cabinets and countertops.


Much of the food preparation took place outside of the kitchen, however, where it was cooler and there was more light and room to work.  Unlike most of us westerners, Vietnamese are very comfortable squatting to work.

There was only one refrigerator in all of the rural houses that I saw.  In homes in the city of Buôn Ma Thuột, however, the three houses I visited all had refrigerators.

The chicken coop was just beyond the kitchen door, and it surrounded the open-air slot toilet in the concrete floor.

The home of the family's married daughter, a teacher in a large town close to Buon Ma Thuot, featured a front and rear garden, as well as a stocked fish pond for fishing.

Vietnamese are very comfortable sitting on floors for long periods, sleeping in very hard beds, and lounging in hard chairs.  This old westerner adapted well-enough for the ten-day period in Đẳk Lẳk, but my old body is not used to this and I usually had to take a break during meal times to stretch a bit.  From what I see in HCMC city houses, however, urban Vietnamese are buying over-stuffed chairs and couches, although they continue to eat on the floor mats for large gatherings.  Over time, will Vietnamese slowly adapt to western tastes in comfort (and grow bigger, stiffer bodies as a result)?

See this posting on the Vietnamese family I visited for Tet, and this posting on Tet parties.

Visiting a Vietnamese family for Tet

The Tết Nguyên Đán season (Tết) in Vietnam welcomes the lunar new year (similar to Chinese New Year), but most importantly, celebrates the family and its ancestors.  Vietnamese, including those from overseas, take this time out to return to the home of their parents or grandparents.  Therefore there is a huge migration of people up and down the country as Vietnamese travel from their work residence to their hometowns.  Most workers are given two weeks or more off for this season, so this time is also recognized as the single vacation time available over the work year.

Almost all manufacturers suspend factory operations during this season, and many small businesses such as restaurants close.  The normally busy markets close for at least four days, if not longer in rural areas.  This means that Vietnamese must prepare for Tet by laying in a stock of food and supplies.  Since home decoration for Tet is also important, this combination of preparing food, buying and installing decorations, and buying gifts or accumulating a supply of "lucky money" gives the preseason the same kind of pleasant anticipation that we westerners usually associate with our Christmas season preparations.  And Vietnamese look forward all year to the reunions with their families and childhood friends back in their hometowns.

To westerners in the cities that must deal with closed restaurants and the hustle and bustle in the markets, Tet can become a burden.  Therefore many expats (many of the them being teachers on a forced vacation) take this opportunity to travel elsewhere in Asia.  Last year, I was in Vietnam for my first Tet season, and I enjoyed the freshness of the experience and the lavish decorations of flowers and lights in downtown Saigon.  The season did go on for too long a time, however, and I missed my normal sources of restaurants and cafés.  I did not look forward to staying in the city again with its energy lost.

This year, I was very privileged to be invited by a Vietnamese friend of mine to travel to his parent's farm in beautiful rural Dak Lak Province, 30-some kilometers out of the province capital of Buôn Ma Thuột.

This became a rare opportunity to see and experience how the majority of Vietnam's population on rural farms live.  The result for me was one of the peak experiences of my life, tempered with the occasional tedium of constant visiting and never-ending food and drink that comes with too long of a season.

We began by leaving Ho Chi Minh City five days prior to the new year.  Since most factories had just shut down, there was a rush of Vietnamese for the buses and trains leaving for the rural hometowns.  We had secured bus reservations in advance, so we missed the chaotic crush at the bus ticket counters.  Normally, my friend would be taking one of the crammed minibuses to Dak Lak, but I prevailed upon him to upgrade a bit to a standard bus operated by Mai Linh so I would have room for my longer legs.  Luggage must also be kept to am minimum, since travel by minibus or motorbike in Vietnam does not allow lugging around much bulk.  Vietnamese travel with very little since they wash clothes by hand daily.  Of course I had my computer and camera, so I was overloaded.  Upon arrival in Ban Me Thout (the former name for Buôn Ma Thuột), we borrowed a motorbike from my friend's uncle and biked the road to the home village with luggage and all on the motorbike.

Vietnamese often say that the country is poor, especially the rural farmers.  In economic terms, this is probably correct.  My friend's family own a hectare of land upon which they grow coffee, pepper, and green tea.  With a harvest of 5 metric tons of robusta green bean coffee annually, they gross only US$10,000 per year at current prices (US$2.05/kilogram).  But this family seems to have everything they need, including a masonry house, home-grown vegetables and chickens, and satellite TV.

In comparison with city families, they sacrifice a level of comfort and extra toys, but their demeanor and hard work indicates they are satisfied with their lives so long as their children successfully graduate from a university and find jobs in the city.  And that is what has occurred for their first three children including my friend, who is now an accountant for a company in HCMC.  One 12-year old child remains on the farm.

We visited many relatives and neighbors in this area, and all homes had about the same level of standard of living.

The family welcomed me with the friendly hospitality characteristic of Vietnamese, and I couldn't have been better cared for.  On the other hand, the main business at hand was execution of the Tet customs, and I was encouraged to participate fully in the activities like a Vietnamese and a member of the family rather than as a western guest with accommodations made to defer to western tastes and comfort.  So much the better from my point of view and curiosity about common Vietnamese life.

The family owns no vehicles other than a motorbike, so I was surprised to see such a large "parking lot" in front of their house.

It was explained that this expanse of concrete is helpful for drying the coffee beans (seeds) after the berry husks have been threshed off.

Lots more to follow in the coming days.....

See this posting on rural farmhouses, and this posting on Tet parties.

Architecture over-the-top in Tay Ninh

Probably the most influential book in my life has been The Quiet American (1955) by Graham Greene.  Greene's evocative depiction of Vietnam brought me to ask for U.S. Navy construction posting for a year in Saigon in 1971-1972.  One of the prime plot scenes in the book (and subsequent movie adaptations) takes place in Tay Ninh Province west of Saigon where Fowler goes to observe the operations of General Thế at the Cao Đài Holy See or headquarters.  The key scene of the book occurs on Fowler's return to Sài Gòn when he is forced to stop on the road at night and climb into a guard tower.  Pyle, Fowler's antagonist, finds him there and saves Fowler's life, after telling Fowler that he wants Fowler's Vietnamese girlfriend.

None of the old guard towers along the highway (QL 22) between Tay Ninh exist today, so far as I could see, but the Cao Dai Holy See exists as a huge compound east of the city of Tay Ninh and continues in full glory.  In the book and in actual history, General Thế led a militia of Cao Đài adherents in a third force against the Viet Minh and French-supported South Vietnamese government.

The Đạo Cao Đài (meaning "way to the highest tower") is a highly syncretist religion, described in the Lonely Planet Guide for Vietnam (2005, p. 374) as follows:

Cao Daism (Dai Dao Tam Ky Pho Do) is the outcome of an attempt to create the ideal religion through the fusion of secular and religious philosophies of the East and West.  The result is a potpourri that includes aspects of most of the religious philosophies known in Vietnam during the early 20th century: Buddhism, Confucianism, Taoism, native Vietnamese spiritualism, Christianity and Islam.  The term Cao Dai (meaning high tower or palace) is a euphemism for God.

The Cao Đài Great Temple, built between 1933 and 1955, is highly symbolic of the religion and represents its own syncretist mix of over-the-top architectural styles, beginning with a French Baroque form of temple overlaid with Chinese pavilion detailing, enclosing a Rococo-based interior.

Although I am a modernist architect, I appreciate greatly the imagination and discipline evident in this temple and its construction.  I have been unable to determine the name of any architect, but I respect the knowledge of worldwide architectural styles and the design skills exhibited in this building.

The temple floor steps up in 9 levels representing the steps to heaven.

Since these levels are expressed on the exterior of the temple, a side view of the temple presents an optically disturbing sensation of imbalance or leaning.

The Divine Eye, or Eye of Providence, is a primary symbol of God for the Cao Đài, and is represented in many places in and around the temple, including each window along the sides of the temple.

The eye is also prominent on the front elevation of the temple, as well as the flag.

Globes are also prominent, as shown on the cupola dome above the central altar area of the nave.

In this case, we see the world globe from an odd angle that results in Europe beneath the animal form -- I don't know if this has any symbolism to the Cao Đài.

The front narthex features a mural showing three historical figures signing a "Third Alliance Between God and Man" -- the Chinese statesman Dr. Sun Yat-sen, the French poet and author Victor Hugo, and the 16th century Vietnamese poet Nguyễn Bỉnh Khiêm.

The interior is a true riot of color and symbolic decorative forms, with the ceiling painted to represent the heavens.

The uppermost ninth level features an all-seeing divine eye on a globe suspended above the altar.

The clergy and worshipers are seated on the floor up the initial floor levels, presumably in order of rank or attainment.

Men are seated on the right side (left in the above view), and the women on the left side, entering through separate doors.  Worship services are held four times daily, and tourists are welcomed to observe and take photographs from balconies on each side of the sanctuary.

The primary service attended by tourists is at 12 noon.

Most tourists arrive on tour buses out of Ho Chi Minh City that then head to the Cu Chi Tunnels attraction during the return trip.  We travelled the 96 kilometers from HCMC by motorbike, which I do not recommend.  It took us 3-1/2 hours each way, and that makes for sore butts (like riding a horse all day, I suppose).

More on jungle cafés...

Last year about this time, I expressed my frustration about the constant rains characteristic of the final month or so of the rainy season in Ho Chi Minh City.  This year we just accepted it like most Vietnamese and didn't let it stop us from getting out and about like it had last year.

So we headed out a few mornings ago to take a long motorbike ride out to District 9 of HCMC, the northern-most rural district of the city.  The city government is trying to encourage development of this district as an alternative to increased density in the inner-city districts.

We managed to miss the intermittent rain on our way out to District 9 along the Hanoi Highway, and we missed it on the way back through the Thủ Thiêm area of District 2, with a ferry ride across the Sài Gòn River to downtown Saigon.

We ducked into a cafe for a lunch stop and to let a rainstorm go over us.  Given the number of postings about cafés and coffee in this blog, readers must have the impression by now that I am obsessed with Vietnamese cà phê, and I surely am.  One of the reasons is the chocolaty taste of Vietnamese coffee -- the other is the unusual and comfortable venues for relaxing while drinking Vietnamese cà phê.

I posted about the jungle cafés out in the HCMC rural districts a year ago.  This particular jungle café in District 9 features a fully-stocked fish pond.  In addition to being a café, this establishment is also a hot-pot restaurant and a place to go fishing.

Some retirees were there fishing, and then cooking the fish for lunch.  The café, Tân Dồng Sông Xanh at 14/387 Lã Xuân Oai in the Tăng Nhơn Phú A neighborhood of District 9, advertises itself as an environmental recreation park.

Meanwhile, we relaxed and enjoyed the hammocks.

There were several gazeboes available for parties.

Impressive large themed cafés

In my posting about American coffeehouses a month ago, I mentioned that the stores are much smaller than Vietnamese cafés.  The design of these stores are almost always retail in nature and rarely explore themes or provide environments more comfortable than the retail setting.

There are a wide variety of levels of Vietnamese cafés, presented previously here.  The biggest surprise is the number of very large themed cafés in Ho Chi Minh City.  A great deal of design skill and care goes into making these environments, and people flock to them, especially on Sunday mornings.  Unlike American coffeehouses which are mostly take-out oriented, Vietnamese cafés are all about relaxing and socializing.  On weekdays, these gatherings are often business-related while on Saturday and Sunday mornings, they become family oriented.  In the evening, these cafés are filled with young couples.

It is hard to understand why there are very few if any of these large themed cafés in America.  Is it because Americans won't take the time to relax and socialize?  I don't think it is necessarily the economics -- land is just as expensive in Saigon as in San Francisco.  An American café like the large themed cafés in HCMC could probably charge a premium for the value of the setting provided.  There may be one or two such cafés in southern California where many overseas Vietnamese live, such as in Westminster, otherwise known as Little Saigon.  But my friends from there know of none.  And I have never seen such cafés in the Vietnamese areas of Sacramento and San Jose.  I would be happy to hear of such a café in the U.S. because I believe there could be a good market for this fresh concept in the U.S.

Here are a couple of new examples introduced to me by my friend Toàn.  They are both similarly large, but have very different settings.  Both of these cafés are in the heart of the Phú Nhuạn District of HCMC, and are easily accessible from downtown.

Trầm Café

The first is called Trầm, and it features an ancient garden theme.  Trầm is at 100 Trần Huy Liệu Street between Nguyễn Đình Chính and Nguyễn Trọng Tuyển Streets.  The frontage on the street is very narrow and nondescript -- you have to trust that there is a large café behind the narrow gate.

Behind the front gate is a narrow lane along which motorbikes are parked by the attendant.

Beyond the inner gate, the garden opens up with a "canyon" between two buildings with air-conditioned seating within. 

I prefer the outdoor garden terrace on the second level.

I would love to see a beautiful garden terrace like this at a U.S. coffeehouse.  A great deal of care and landscape design has gone into this environment.

The centerpiece of the "canyon" is the waterfall on the left, which flows to the "river" below.

This view is from the garden terrace.

The overall effect of this environment is like being able to relax at Angkor Wat, the ancient temple ruins in Cambodia.

Du Mien Café

The second café is much more modern and energetic, and also twice as expensive as most of the cafés I visit (a cà phê đá runs about 35,000 VN đồng [US$2.15]).  The Du Mien Café seems to be frequented by the nouveau rich and their families, a fast-growing segment of society in Ho Chi Minh City.  Kevin Miller, Jr. of the blog SaigonNezumi.com recommended this café to me in a posting three months ago.

The Du Mien Café is hidden away on hẻm (lane) 48 at lot 9a off a small narrow street named Hồ Biểu Chánh, close to Huỳnh Văn Bánh Street.  Motorbikes are parked with an attendant at the lane, and you walk to the entry on a side lane.

The primary structure is a three-story modernist villa with a variety of indoor air-conditioned spaces as well as terrace decks.

The villa is set within a garden with a selection of patio terraces for seating.

Landscape features include a pool

and a corner garden with waterfalls.

Light food is available at this café, but the primary focus is on coffee drinks and an extensive choice of fruit juices and sinh tố (fruit shakes or smoothees).

Cars in Phnom Penh

Jon at The final Word...in Saigon posted awhile back on "Cars, Cars, Cars. And Cars", lamenting the traffic and hazardous smog created by the growing number of cars in Ho Chi Minh City.

Visiting Phnom Penh in Cambodia recently, I noticed that the traffic was nowhere near as bad as in HCMC, but the proportion of cars and pickups to motorbikes was substantially higher.  At 2 million, the population density of Phnom Penh is half that of HCMC.

This is what I am afraid may happen in Saigon -- eventually the authorities will have to relent and allow car parking on the sidewalks as they do in Phnom Penh.

It is hard enough to walk down HCMC streets with all the motorbikes parked on the sidewalks -- adding cars to the mix will be an anti-urban action that will decrease the quality of life here substantially.

New restaurant concept....

I suppose somebody can tell me that they have seen this kind of restaurant elsewhere in the world, but it is the first time I have seen an all-hammock restaurant.

This restaurant is located south of the Royal Palace complex on Sisowath Quay in the Cambodian capital city of Phnom Penh.

It doesn't look like much, but it is very similar to about a dozen others like it in this area of Phnom Penh.  Maybe I am unclear on the concept, but it appears the idea is to come and get a quick bowl of soup and then doze off for an hour or so before returning to work after the lunch time.

We were there at lunchtime, but there were no or very few customers.

I have always found it difficult to swallow soup in a horizontal position, however.

Cà phê at cafés in HCMC

Jon over at the blog The final Word...in Saigon posted the other day about places to "chill out" in Ho Chi Minh City, meaning cafés, otherwise known as coffeehouses in the western world.  Jon subtitled his posting "Part I", indicating there are other posts to come about this subject since he is writing a feature article about such places in Saigon.  In the spirit of friendship and blog collaboration we expat bloggers are famous for in Vietnam, I offer this selection of cafés to add to Jon's list.

Speaking of blogger friendship, my friend Kevin over at the SaigonNezumi.com blog beat me to the punch yesterday on my first café selection -- the Café Hi-END at 217 Nguyễn Văn Thủ in District 1 of HCMC.  Although I have never seen another westerner in the Café Hi-END, I am not surprised that Kevin has been there since he has many Vietnamese friends that probably introduced him to the café.  I was introduced to the café by a Vietnamese businessman.  This café is close enough to other venues frequented by expats so there could be an increase in expats hitting the Hi-END and other Vietnamese cafés if Jon, Kevin and I keep plugging them.

Jon's selection so far has featured cafés downtown in Districts 1 or 3 where tourists and expats hang out.    The Le Petit Café draws a good mixed-crowd of Vietnamese and westerners.  I like to hit the Café Park Bach Dang once in a while to gaze across the river at Thu Thiem as Jon recommended.  I keep thinking about potential real estate over there in the swamps.  The prices at Bach Dang are certainly my style at less than US$.50 per cup.  I avoid places like Highland's coffee because they don't specialize in Vietnamese cà phê -- they do Starbucks-style espresso coffee drinks at western prices.

Most of the cafés I will feature here will be full of Vietnamese people rather than tourists or expats, and they will usually be located deep within thoroughly Vietnamese neighborhoods.  And they almost always have Vietnamese names rather than English-language names.  That doesn't mean tourists and expats should be afraid to venture into these cafés -- I have always felt welcome in these cafés.  You just have to work to find some of these locations.  The Vietnamese have developed a true café society -- they throng to the cafés in the mid-morning for business, and crowd the cafés at night for socializing.

Café Như Ngày Nào

My favorite cafe's are out in the Phú Nhuận District neighborhood where I live.  I try to hit the Café Như Ngày Nào once a day in the late afternoon to reflect on the day's events and plan for the next day.  This café is located at 26 Doàn Thị Điểm, a narrow street accessed off Đường Phan Dăng Lưu just north of the intersection with Đường Phan Đình Phùng.

Click on the photos to see larger image sizes

This café is a real garden, so most of the café is open-air.  There are two terraces that are covered, and other areas have a gravel surface.

For the heat-challenged among us, there is a small air-conditioned room.  Given a choice at a café between an air-conditioned setting and an outside setting, I always sit outside.  There are usually enough breezes wafting around HCMC to be comfortable.

The garden features several long pools with large tropical fish and many small fountains as well as one large waterfall.  There are a couple of rabbits scampering around the terraces and gardens eating the plants.  The owner is continually adding to the collection of very diverse plant material and artifacts.

The result is a club-like setting that I enjoy.  Since there are usually two or three tables of chess-playing men along with spectators, the atmosphere is truly like a men's club.  Note the men in the photo above in white shirts -- one has his cell phone to his ear -- this café like many in HCMC caters to businessmen who seem to use the café as their office.  Nevertheless, there are many women who come to this café for its sinh tố fruit drinks and kem (ice cream).  Although most Vietnamese cafés do not offer food, this café seems to be in the vanguard of a new movement of cafés that offer small rice dishes at lunchtime.  The cà phê đá (very strong Vietnamese iced coffee -- my standard drink of choice and bellwether for pricing) runs 10,000 VND (US$0.62).  This price range is typical for Vietnamese neighborhood cafés taking up substantial real estate -- small curbside stands run about 4,000 VND (US$0.25) to 7,000 VND (US$0.44).

The audio system here has the usual tinny sound from small speakers, but the music here is played at a reasonable level, unlike at many Vietnamese cafés.  This café plays a well-selected mix of Vietnamese traditional and pop music along with western oldies and world music.  Therefore this is a good place to carry out a conversation.

Khúc Giao Mùa Café

I try to take long walks through different neighborhoods a couple of times a week, and I usually look for interesting cafés to stop at for a break.  The Khúc Giao Mùa Café at 110A Nguyễn Đình Chính in Q. Phú Nhuận is a good example.  Many nice café's are often down side lanes like this one, so you have to be willing to explore a bit and take a chance.

This café is also a garden setting with an option for indoor tables in a villa on the property.

There are private table settings like this one

in addition to larger areas of tables.

This seating area features a lush waterfall (the water is difficult to see in the sunlight in this photo).

I suspect this is a very romantic place in the evening.

The music here is pop and traditional Vietnamese music (which I love), and it is played at a reasonable sound level.  Prices are a step up at 17,000 VND (US$1.06) for cà phê đá (iced coffee).

Hi-END Café

Back to the Hi-End café, this café is in an air-conditioned building, but it does not look particularly appealing on the outside, and looks dark inside, which it is.  Normally I prefer open airy bright cafés, so I have bypassed this café previously.

It is not as dark as it looks inside, although the walls are painted a rich dark brown.  The interior reminds me of a vintage NYC Greenwich Village or Berkeley folk-music coffeehouse.  The chairs here are not the usual hard café chairs -- they are very comfortable sofa-like chairs.

Kevin at SaigonNetzumi.com mentioned the home-made sound system -- it is also very beautiful with illuminated vacuum tubes.

The sound quality is incredible with a soft lush quality unlike any other café or venue I have heard in Việt Nam (or in the USA).  Sound-absorbing materials and textured surfaces have been used on walls and ceilings (unusual in Việt Nam) to provide excellent acoustics without the reverberation typical of most hard masonry spaces typical in HCMC.  (Maybe all the Marilyn Monroe photographs on the walls help).  The music is a very intelligent mix of acoustical and folk music that is played at a reasonable level that allows good conversations.

Cà phê đá  here runs 17,000 VND (US$1.06) in the daytime, and 30,000 VND (US$1.87) in the evening, which is a peak time for most HCMC cafés.

The incessant rain is getting to me....

The rainy season in TP. Hồ Chí Minh runs generally six months from May to November.  The other half of the year is generally hot and dry, although humid.  I have enjoyed the changing patterns of this season over this summer, starting in May and June with the violent thunderstorms accompanied by cloudbursts of rain for an hour each day.  In July and August, the thunderstorms weren't as violent, but the rains lengthened out to two or three hours a day.  But here in September, the rains have been incessant, with rain for an hour, cloudiness for two or three hours, rain again for an hour, and on and on.  It seems that the rainy hours always happen at lunchtime or dinnertime when I need to go out and find sustenance.  (My wife is away to China for a couple of weeks, so I am on my own, and I don't cook).

I don't remember that it was this bad when I lived here in Saigon for a year in 1972.  I guess I only remember good things, and I have many good memories of that year.

I am looking forward to the hot season.  (I say that now -- check back with me in six months).

An outing with a large Vietnamese family....

It is a real treat to be invited to attend a large Vietnamese family function.  In this case, we also were able to experience a pure Vietnamese resort, which is quite a bit different from the resorts westerners expect.

I have learned from other Vietnamese families that it is common to hire a 45-person bus for  weekend trips to a Vietnamese seaside resort.  They fill them with their large extended family and friends.  Our family bus loaded at 2:00 a.m. Saturday morning and then drove through the night to  Phan Thiết and Mũi Né, where there are many western-style resorts.  Many westerners from HCMC like to go there on weekends.  We stopped to enjoy the red sand dunes, famous features in Mũi Né.

We also stopped for a seafood lunch together.

This family gathering was matriarchal in organization, rather than the patriarchal structure usually common to Vietnamese families.  Although we are meeting many young Vietnamese couples who live alone, the more common practice (due to meager finances as well as cultural tradition) is for the wife to live with the husband's family.  In this case, there are six sisters who all live in the same area of Saigon, and they organize many family events together.  As in all Vietnamese families, the focus is on the elders.  Here, the mother and father of the family (right and left in the picture below) enjoy the company of their large family with many grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

We moved north up the coastal national highway to Phan Rang, from which we headed east to the coastal resort of Co Thich.  This is nowhere close to a five-star or any-star rating as resorts go, but Vietnamese love it because of its relatively low cost and set-up for large families.

The village is a collection of several individually-operated guest houses featuring very large rooms, along with some smaller rooms.  Our family fitted themselves into a room with about 10 double beds, while Hien and I occupied a one-bed room.  The showers and slot-toilets were down the hall.  This is the rather rustic hand or dish-washing area behind the showers.

A large center area accommodated large family self-made meals.

The sisters had prepared meal fixings in advance and brought it all with them on the bus.  In many respects, this was more like a camping experience.  Everyone pitched in to prepare vegetables (yes, I know it doesn't look like the men are doing much).

There are two primary attractions for this resort area -- the beach, of course,

and the complex of Buddhist shrines and temples on the hills above the beach.

There seemed to be about five or six hundred Vietnamese at this resort for the weekend we were there (I was the only westerner there), and most of them made the short trek up the hills on Sunday morning to pay their respects at the various prayer sites.

We managed to get in some relaxation time, though, at one of the many beachside coffee houses (bars).  Most of them had racks of hammocks available, and here is the nice relaxing view from a hammock, accompanied by an iced beer.

They still build wood boats in Viet Nam

Quy Nhơn is a natural harbor and beach along the south-central coast of Việt Nam in Bình Định Province.  It is home to many fishing boats.

In addition to harvesting shellfish, these boats catch fish common in the Vietnamese diet, as shown here with fish drying on the shore.

Most of the fishing boats are made of wood, and we came across a rudimentary shipyard along the shore where many of these boats are made.

There were four or five boats at various stages of production.  The boat building starts with the laying of the keel.

Lumber planks are bent into desired shapes through heating and wetting.

Wood pegs are used to attach the wood planks to the frame.

The finished boat is given a bright coat of paint and then floated out into the bay.

Note the round grass-basket dinghies attached to the boats for getting to shore and back.

Out in the HCMC Countryside Part 2

Heading north out of Thành Phố Hồ Chí Minh (TPHCM) east of Tân Sơn Nhất Airport, you travel on urban streets of Quận (District) Gò Vấp that take you to the west once you clear the airport grounds.  Moving out of Gò Vấp and into Quận 12, you proceed through the new industrial areas of TPHCM.  You are in the heart of this area as you cross the national highway bypass (QL-1A) constructed in 1972 by RMK-BRJ.

This highway is now part of a ring road intended to circle TPHCM.  The eastern part is currently under construction in Quận 2.  As is typical in growing cities around the world, industrial and high-tech parks are strung out along these important lines of communication and transport.

Once you move past the ring road and head into Huyện (Suburban District) Hóc Môn, the countryside begins.  Somewhere beyond the newest factories under construction, we took a wrong turn and wound up in real farm country.

This gave us an opportunity to see where our market produce comes from.

If you expand the photo by clicking on it, you can see a new factory in the background.  The TPHCM 2020 Master Plan dedicates this area for agricultural production, but we shall see if this actually happens.

We were looking for province highway (TL) 9.  These smaller highways are not marked with their highway numbers.  You need to follow direction signs to destination towns, which aren't always shown on a map or using the same name.  But we eventually found it with a little help.

This highway parallels the Sông Sài Gòn heading northwest out of the city.  You never see the river, however, past the fields and forests.  We stopped along the way for a fruit snack.

Our destination was the larger town of Thủ Dầu Một in Bình Dương Province.  You cross the Sông Sài Gòn into the town.