Third new year of the year

This weekend was the Khmer new year. I went to Tra Vinh, which has a significant Khmer population, to visit Violet and take part in festivities. Unlike the last time I traveled on a Friday the 13th, I was met with no bad luck or undue stress. I caught the bus to the ferry on Friday afternoon. An elderly man across the aisle tried to chat with me. No matter how many times I said I didn't hiễu, it turned out that I did actually kind of understand. After asking me where I was going (to the ferry), why I was going there (to go to Tra Vinh), and what I'd be doing there (visiting a friend), he jumped to a strange conclusion. He suddenly proclaimed that I spoke not only Vietnamese and 'American', but also Lao and Cambodian. After that I really didn't hiễu anymore, and he started chatting with someone who took the seat next to him. I really enjoyed the ride. Even if the weather never changes here, it's obvious that it's spring. We passed ponds full of blooming water hyacinths and lotuses and water lilies. It's not the same as Texas wildflowers, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

I took the ferry across the river; Violet met me on her side, and she drove me into Tra Vinh city. Naturally, our first order of business was to go shopping. I bought my first pseudo English shirt, and it even had some pseudo Italian to boot! Violet and I had dinner at a banh uot place I've been wanting to revisit ever since my first time in Tra Vinh, and it did not disappoint. We bought a kite and then went home for a bit to relax before our second dinner. At around nine we left for a bia hoi (fresh beer place) with Vincent and were met by some of Vincent's students. Sadly, the grill was broken, so I didn't get any of the grilled beef I'd heard so much about, but we had some great corn, fried chicken, and fried calamari.

In our new shirts

Saturday morning, Violet and I had the choice between going to the beach or going to a going away party for a foreign employee at her university. We chose the beach. It was more or less a 90-minute drive and, again, it was incredibly enjoyable. As much as I love new sights and new experiences, I love it when I can find something familiar in it. The wide blue sky full of cumulus clouds and the many, seemingly stray, cows reminded me of Texas. Some of the towns reminded me of Guatemala. The old churches had notes of Italy. By the time we got to the beach, I was feeling really good.

Getting onto a ferry

We were the only people at the beach. We set up under a thatched roof that shaded us from the sun above and the blistering sand below it, and we had a well-earned brunch that I bought before we left the city while Violet was having her clanking bike checked for our trip. The beach was not the blue water white sand paradise that destination beaches tout, but I hadn't been expecting it to be. It was covered in the most amazing shells, a surprising amount of lightbulbs, and the usual Vietnamese debris (assorted sandals, empty bottles of fish sauce, etc.). After eating and setting my inner child free to collect an absurd number of these shells, we went for a swim. We let ourselves get pruny before we emerged again to fly our kite. Though the kite was pretty, it came with a very short string. The wind carried it easily, but it couldn't get high enough to really glide.

Some of the shells were encrusted with barnacles

Mollusk-mohawked light bulb

Flying our butterfly kite

And then Violet found a dead puffer fish on the beach

While we were scampering around discovering the beach's trash treasures, a group of young Vietnamese guys arrived, with a big hoe in tow. They started digging in the sand and shouted at us to join them, but we declined. They came to us. It turned out that they were digging for crabs, and they brought one to show us. They might have accidentally-on-purpose released it at us. They caught it again, but one of them had to literally pounce on it to keep it from getting away. Crabs are fast! After a while of rocky conversation, they conscripted us to help them dig for crabs. A second crab was unearthed and somehow, in attempting to get it into the bag with the first crab, both crabs ended up springing free and swiftly scuttled in opposite directions. Unluckily for the crabs, they were recaptured. At this point, one of the guys thought it would be funny to try and drag Violet into the ocean, at which point I decided it was probably time for us to go.

That night we went to Ratana's home. He is one of Vincent's students, and he had invited us and several others to come celebrate his birthday. It was a striking treat to watch a group of young guys cooking for and serving the guests. They made a green mango and dried fish salad, fried chicken, and a fish soup that tasted like it was equal parts fish and peppers. It was a good mix of students and foreigners, as four of Vincent's friends teaching in other cities came in for the new year and came for Ratana's birthday. When the food was gone we decided to move on to karaoke. Unfortunately, we had only made it through one song when the power went out in the whole city. On the upside, the pitch black outside made it easy to see all of the stars.

Sunday was Khmer festivity day. We started out by going to Trà Cú, a Khmer town in Tra Vinh province. We went to the home of Mr. Hai, a teacher at the university. So began a day of culturally mandated debauchery. Mr. Hai plied us with Heineken, 333 beer, brandy, and three different batches of homemade rice wine. He told us that while the Vietnamese only drink until they are drunk, Khmer people keep going long after that. The alcohol was accompanied by a feast that included beef jerky that he brought home from Cambodia after a recent trip. He wanted to take us to observe some religious rituals, but social obligations summoned us to another house.

Our host is on the far right

The bacchanalia continued at a Khmer student's house. When we got there, we were greeted by a band of performers that included a king and queen, an old man, a 'ladyboy' (man in drag), a monkey warrior, and some demons. They and most of the town children paraded into the yard of the house we were staying at and gave a special performance. In the video below you can see the monkey warrior dancing and most of the other performers.

With the king

Ladyboy in the foreground, queen in the background

After they left we had dinner. It started off with curried duck, then a squid and greens dish, and then the main course came out. Drum roll please. It was dog meat stew. I had started to think I might leave Vietnam without trying it, but I should have known Vietnam would not disappoint me. Despite all of the negative opinions I had heard, I actually found dog meat to be perfectly palatable. It was certainly chewy, but it just resembled overcooked beef, which isn't so bad as far as bad meat goes.

It was only slightly awkward to have dogs lounging at our feet while we ate

We took a break from eating and drinking to go to the family tomb for a special ceremony. From what I understand, each family has a stupa-like structure where the ashes of all ancestors are kept. Families go pay their respects and monks lead each family in prayer. They also fling a lot of (holy?) water during the praying. After this, we went to what felt like a big neighborhood party. Musicians played Khmer rock and we spent the rest of the night dancing in circles around a table laden with fruits and flowers.

Having recently celebrated Easter and having now participated in three different kinds of new year celebrations, I have been reflecting about tradition. Last Sunday I was acutely aware of the importance of tradition. Without ritual or tradition, it's hard to sense the specialness you may expect a day to have. Most American holidays, even the ones I was able to celebrate with friends or family, just didn't feel quite right. They were missing the people or foods or activities that make them different from every other day. That, and most of my holidays are irrelevant and meaningless to everyone around me. Before Tet, I wondered if it would somehow feel more special than my own new year, even though it had no meaning to me, because it would be actively celebrated by everyone else around me. It didn't. Yesterday, though, got close. There was a large gathering of new friends, there was feasting, there was some ceremony, and there was a lot of celebration. I don't know that it felt as meaningful as 'my' holidays, but it felt like the right kind of special.