The smell of green

Today is Independence Day in Vietnam and, as such, it is a national holiday. Trang invited me and other members of the English department to her family home to enjoy the holiday. After a motorcycle ride that took us from city to countryside, over bridges across waterways (dare I say cricks), passing horse-drawn carts, onto dirt roads through the fronds of palms, we arrived. It was a taste of paradise without tourists or expenses, but with a family. And boy was paradise tasty.

I was almost immediately summoned to help pick (and eat) longans. Then I was offered coconut water from a freshly picked coconut. Then it was time to actually eat, and plates and plates of piping hot bánh xèo were brought out, accompanied by platters of various leaves that I cannot name. Everyone took a large leaf, added smaller leaves like mint, tore off a hunk of bánh xèo, and rolled it all up in the large leaf to then dip into a bowl of fish sauce. It was exquisite. I have eaten bánh xèo many times in the US and several time in Hanoi, but northern and southern bánh xèo are quite different, and this was by far the best I have ever had. It was moist rather than crunchy and unbelievably rich and flavorful. It is a local specialty, and any dish is always better when it is homemade. I ate until I could eat no more, and then I ate grapefruit and watermelon.

Coconuts and grandkiddos

Bánh xèo, photo from the internet

The feast -- clearly I am more interested in the food than the camera

I should describe this spectacular house. Located in a clearing amidst a variety of fruit trees, it has a very open design. The room where we ate is at the front of the house and opens up to the yard, almost more like a very large porch. In addition to several tables where we ate, there were hammocks hanging from the columns. After gorging ourselves, it was time to sit and chat and hammock. I was invited to nap. I didn't need telling twice. Taking in the serene view outside, with the only sounds being soft conversation, the clink of teacups, and palm fronds in the breeze, it was all too easy to fall asleep.

Among the overwhelming pleasantness of the whole experience, there was one unexpected thing that was the frosting on the day. I assumed that this would be a pretty English-free experience, and I was ok with that. However, it turned out that Trang's dad had spent a year in the United States back in 1968 studying at the school of music at the Norfolk naval academy. Though the first thing he said to me was that he had forgotten how to speak English, I spent a long time listening to his stories in perfectly clear English. He told me that he took a Greyhound bus from Norfolk to San Francisco because he was curious to see the country and agricultural practices, but it was summer and it was hot and nothing was growing. He told me about how everyone in the US mispronounced his name and always tried to speak to him in French. He said the Americans knew nothing about Vietnam. He told me about his musical tastes, which included Andrés Segovia, Karen Carpenter, and Herb Alpert. He told me that most of his friends moved to the US back then and he had wanted to, too, but as the eldest son it was his duty to inherit the family home and take care of his parents. Now, his friends in America tell him he made the right choice. Life in the US with a large family is too difficult.

Grandpa Hong telling stories

There were many maps decorating the walls of the house, and I found it very interesting to see the transliterated names on the world map. After napping I was given a sweet iced coffee that I actually very much enjoyed, and was given more coconut and longans. I was told that the word 'longan' comes from Chinese, and means 'the eye of the traitor'. I also learned that the xèo part of bánh xèo is an onomatopoeic word that comes from the sound it makes when it is being cooked, equivalent to 'sizzle'. When it was time to leave, the requisite 50 photographs were taken and I was invited to come again next weekend. It might have been a rhetorical invitation, but I hope I can come back many more times in the months to come.