Easter coconut

“If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans.” - Woody Allen

It was such an eventful weekend I had to split it into more than one post. In anticipation for my several visitors, I had grand plans of where I would take them to eat, where we would relax, and so on. Of course, I forgot that I was in Vietnam, the country that laughs at your plans even more than God does. Originally, Lam (ETA) and Vincent (non-Fulbright ETA in Tra Vinh with Violet) were supposed to arrive in Ben Tre on Saturday and leave at their convenience on Sunday. On Friday night, in the midst of poring over youtube videos of Nguyễn Hoàng Nam, Vincent informed us that he'd actually be coming with one of his students, Thu, and that his program director and his wife would be coming in from HCMC to join us. Suddenly, instead of having two motorbikes and four people, we'd be juggling seven people on those two motorbikes. But it got worked out.

On Saturday morning, Violet got a message from Vincent informing her that his motorbike was suddenly out of commission, so they'd be late and using Thu's bike. Lam informed me that he'd be arriving at two, give or take a couple of hours. Violet and I got a decently early start and had bun bo hue for breakfast before hitting up the lake stage. The road closures for the festival rerouted everyone onto a usually quiet side street, and I was intrigued but not at all surprised by the clots of sidewalk fruit sellers and the number of vendors that suddenly inhabited previously empty storefronts. There was happening on the stage, but it was open to the public so we clambered around and hoped we wouldn't suddenly plummet into the water of dubious cleanliness.

Dragons frolic among coconut palms

I frolic on a my-size Rach Mieu Bridge

A posse of teens goaded each other into working up the courage to talk to us in English, and one of them finally asked us if we could take a picture of their group. We did so and then, after briefly consulting together, they decided that we were beautiful and they asked if they could get a group picture with us in it. We complied. The next order of business was shopping. Violet and I have both been dreaming of acquiring a Vietnamese-style blazer (colorful or polka-dotted and perhaps adorned with an assortment of buttons and zippers). I'd seen a few shops that looked promising, so Violet drove us there to commence the hunt. Alas, it was a futile search, and I had my dreams crushed by a red and black blazer that was perfect except for the fact that it was about two sizes too small. No success on the blazer front, but we both made other purchases. A tank top for me and a romper for Violet.

At this point, Violet and I were feeling hot and thirsty, so we headed back to campus to get sugarcane juice at a place just outside the gate. Right as we sat down, we saw Vincent, Thu, and Patrick and Jessica (Vincent's program director) arriving at the college. Perfect timing! We ordered four more nuoc mias and did some getting to know each other. It was right around lunch time, so our next stop was my preferred not-quite-upscale restaurant. It's not street food, but it's not nearly as fancy or expensive as restaurants. I ordered the Ben Tre specialty, canh chua (sour soup), fish cooked in fish sauce, and we also got a plate of fried squid. We chowed down with vigor, and Patrick and Jessica declared it the best meal they'd had in Vietnam. Score! 

Seeing as how this is my home turf and all, it was up to me to figure out what everyone should do. There isn't much to see in Ben Tre other than taking a river tour, but that's not even in the city. My main knowledge of Ben Tre is it's food offerings, so despite the fact that we'd all just stuffed ourselves we went to have some milk tea. It was just two blocks away, so it was easy to get to despite our limited vehicles. Since we arrived with two blatant foreigners in tow, the owners closed the doors and turned on the air conditioning for us. We hung out for quite a while, long enough for Lam to meet us around three. We decided to order a plate of fried fertilized quail eggs to perhaps not so gently encourage Patrick and Jessica to give them a try. They acquiesced, content with having tried them, but not eager to have any more. After all of this, Patrick, Jessica, Vincent, and Thu went to the coconut festival while Violet, Lam, and I decompressed and tried to decide where we would all meet up for dinner. Lam wanted to go somewhere where we could grill at our table and have some beers, but I have never been somewhere like that. I texted Mr. Hoang, whom I know to be an avid social drinker, asking him for a recommendation. I should have seen it coming. He was out drinking, and recommended that we join him. 

All of us met at the place that Mr. Hoang recommended, and though we did not sit with him we made sure to visit his table and clink our glasses. Service was slow, and Patrick and Jessica actually had to leave before our main course arrived. The rest of us were going to meet my students, Thy, Nhu, and Di, and go to the coconut festival, and we never ended up getting the roast chicken we ordered. Instead, we dove into the festival traffic. It was more packed than any traffic I have ever been in in Saigon or Hanoi, and I have done some rush hour xe om-ing. We were inching along, and I was getting grazed by passengers on other motorbikes.

Not bumper to bumper, elbow to elbow

The festival was even more crowded than it was on Friday night. Since most of us had seen it already, we didn't spend as much time there. I did, however, get a better look at the coconut handcrafts, and discovered the rather out of place trinket below.

Is Ben Tre exporting coconut crafts to Hawai'i?

The students went home, Vincent and Thu went back to Tra Vinh, and Lam and Violet and I headed back to campus. We ended up staying up and chatting until 4:30am. Sunday morning made it abundantly clear that our bed time was not a well thought out idea.

Lam was supposed to catch a 7am bus back to Ca Mau. Remember when I mentioned God laughing? His alarm didn't go off. Luckily, sort of, mine did. I don't remember hearing it, but some part of my subconscious heard it and I turned it off in my sleep. Violet heard it and woke us up at 715. Lam decided to join us for 730 mass. However, we were three people with one motorbike. Instead of piling on and risking getting pulled over, Lam got a head start on my bike and Violet and I set out on her motorbike soon after. We caught up to him and I tried to push him along with us, as I've seen many Vietnamese youths do for their unmotorized friends. It was not nearly as easy as they make it seem. It should be a straight shot from campus to church, but road closures made us take a pretty wide detour, and we didn't actually make it to church until around eight. We sat, sweated, and bemoaned the fact that we'd had less than three hours of sleep. I was glad we made it to mass, but it certainly wasn't the jubilant Easter Sunday morning I had pictured. We grabbed some food after mass, again, not the sumptuous Ben Tre Easter feast I had envisioned earlier in the week, and then Lam had to rush to catch his backup plan. He biked to the city center and asked a surprisingly smart-mouthed taxi driver into taking him and the bike back to campus, where the bus would pick him up. 

We all reconvened briefly at the college before the bus came for Lam. Violet and I promptly returned to bed and caught an extra three hours of z's before continuing our day. We had pho and then decided to go back to milk tea - for the third day in a row. We'd been there for half an hour when, who should arrive but Nhu and another one of my students. They joined us and ordered a kipu tea for us. It was the first time in a long time that I had to grin and bear it. Whatever the tea itself was, it was mixed with ground up peanut. There are very few situations in which I find peanuts tolerable, and this was definitely not one of those situations. Flavor aside, needing to chew grit in my beverage is not really something I enjoy. The tea also had some sort of jello/flan made from eggs, which was surprisingly the best part of the glass's contents.

Then it was time for Violet to get on the road to Tra Vinh, and for me to join my trusty coconut festival ambassadors once more and visit the third site of the festival. While the scale and popularity of the fair was quite impressive, the Coconut Street next to the river was what really outshone my modest expectations for the whole festival. It was in the same place as the flower market from Tet, but a million times better than just a bunch of people selling (beautiful) potted plant after potted plant. On top of the very wide riverside sidewalk, in twenty days, people installed a rice field, planted coconut palms, made ponds with bridges over them, and more. Not only was it an admirable feat, it was designed with an extremely western-compatible aesthetic. It wasn't campy, glittery, or styrofoamy.

Mini rice field

A fish turning into a dragon, over a coconut inlaid with the contours
of the continents: a symbol for Ben Tre's aspirations

Di, Nhu, and Thy on a monkey bridge

There really are orange coconuts, though they are kind of brownish but they're called red

Yes, believe it or not, under all of that there is normally nothing but a big old riverside sidewalk. Because I am the Foreign Princess of Ben Tre, I was given the royal treatment by my loyal subjects on coconut street. One man I vaguely remember meeting several months ago was working for the festival, and he joined our group (me, the students, and a teacher) and made himself our guide. He showed me a clever mousetrap made out of bamboo, traditionally used to catch a coconut mouse. Naturally, you don't use cheese as bait; you use a sliver of coconut. I tasted what I can only describe as a coconut fruit roll-up, though it is much more traditional and much less artificial than that. We went to a booth where people were making crafts out of palm fronds. It was kind of like Palm Sunday meets balloon animals. Roses, birds, centipedes, fish, dragons, and vuvuzuelas took shape amidst the skillful hands of the people working the booth. One of those people was a former attendee of the English club for teachers, and he immediately presented me with a rose. Then he asked if I wanted to learn how to make one. I got a personal tutorial on how to make a rose (it turned out pretty pathetic) and then how to make a bird (this one turned out pretty good). All the while, a professional photographer was snapping shots.

After exploring all of Coconut Street's offerings, we went to get a drink at a cafe before going home. I found out that the local government spent 2 billion VND (about $1 million) on the coconut festival. I can't say whether it was worth it, but I certainly enjoyed it.