Visiting

Friday night I had a millipede that spent hours walking in circles around my desk chair. Saturday morning I set off for Tra Vinh. It takes two hours, the same time it takes to get to HCMC, even though it is probably about half of the distance. Luckily, it is also at least twice as interesting. I spend an hour on the public bus from Ben Tre to the ferry, then I spend 20 minutes crossing the river, and then it's a 40-minute motorbike ride to Tra Vinh's city center. On the bus, I saw a public school named after Che Guevara. I made me do a double take. Violet and Lam met me on her side of the river, and we had a fairly relaxing rest of the day. In the afternoon we met with some of Violet's co-workers for drinks and snacks. I tried Tra Vinh's Khmer specialty, bún nước lèo. It was good, but it didn't really inspire any excitement. More interesting were the fried sweet potato spring rolls that accompanied it. In the evening we did some shopping.

Tra Vinh city center

Bún nước lèo

It wasn't so much the activities that made it a notable weekend, it was the company. Even though getting out of our hometowns and being with friends feels like an escape from work, we can't escape talking about it. In theory, that bothers me, but in reality it is a good thing. These are the people who know exactly what my obstacles are, because they have the same ones. They can empathize like no one else can because we're all in the same boat.

I came back to Ben Tre on Sunday morning. I was planning on my usual set of modes of transportation, but when I got back to the Ben Tre side of the river it seemed like it would be a while before the next bus came. I sat down at a cafe next to the bus stop to wait. A man asked me if I was taking a xe om or the bus. I said that I was waiting for the bus. After waiting a while longer and realizing that I was more capable of conversation than I thought, I asked him if he was a driver. (I always feel uncomfortable asking people if they are xe om drivers.) He said he was a xe om driver. I was going to ask him if he knew when the next bus would pass, but instead I asked him if he could take me back to the college, since he seemed to be offering. He read the address and said that he knew where it was and he agreed to take me. I braced myself for an hour-long bumpy ride, but it ended up taking half as long. Near the end I had to give him directions, and did so successfully. When we arrived at the college I didn't have exact change and he didn't have change. Usually, if this is an issue, the driver goes around asking nearby businesses if they can break the bill. I don't know if this driver was just lazy or if it didn't occur to him that it would be challenging for me to take on this task, but he sat back while I started looking for change. The first woman had seen what had happened so I didn't have to say anything, but she didn't have change. Then I went to a shop across the street. I showed the woman my 200 and said I wanted a 100 and two 50s. She looked at me in total confusion. I said it again. She called her husband over. I said it again, again. Now the two of them were staring at me. I tried a different tactic. I said, "I have a xe om. I don't have ..." and showed them the 200 bill again. "Change!" they both cried out in unison. Success. And a good way to imprint a new word, đổi.

Remember Ngoc, Nhat, and Phu, the students I went out with on Thursday morning who were supposed to teach me some more Vietnamese dishes? I was supposed to meet them on Sunday morning but that got moved because I was in Tra Vinh. I was worried that we might have to cancel, but instead we agreed to meet at two pm on Sunday afternoon. Ngoc came to pick me up, and the 30-minute ride to Nhat's house was one of the most scenic rides I've ever had in the delta. Sunlight filtered through miles of coconut palm forests. When we got there I realized there would be no cooking. Instead, there would be eating. I was fed milk-coffee jello, vegetarian spring rolls, corn, xôi (sweet rice with coconut shavings) colored orange with gấc, mango, and persimmon. Could it be that the jello was the previously mentioned 'rice jelly'? It ended up being quite the gathering, and even though most of it took place in Vietnamese I felt very happy, included, and relaxed. I think it probably helped that we were all about the same age. 

A small feast

After we ate they asked if we could take pictures together. Boy, did we take pictures. I smiled for about three cameras and a couple of cell phones all at once, at least once with each person there and then with the group. Then they asked me if I wanted to try on an ao dai and take pictures. I didn't really want to but it was pretty clear that they really wanted me to, so I agreed. As if I needed a reminder that I was in Vietnam, I was suddenly being dressed by Nhat and trying on (aka sweating in) her mother's clothes. Unexpectedly, the ao dai fit (and was too big, actually!) and so I emerged for my photo shoot. Everyone wanted a photo with me again, and then they had me sit in the grass to take pictures of just me, proclaiming me Vietnam's Next Top Model. Once I got over the western-minded weirdness of it all, it was kind of fun. Getting fawned over for 30 minutes isn't so so bad. After that I escaped to change back into my clothes and we just sat in the grass and chatted. It was one of the most relaxed social outings I've had in Vietnam, and even though I had to leave after two hours, I would have been happy to stay longer. 

Coconuts and bananas