Westward in the Delta

“Bizarre travel plans are dancing lessons from God.” – Kurt Vonnegut

 Friday morning I wore an ao dai to teach. I don't have many more chances to wear them so, despite the heat, I'll be wearing one for my last few classes. I guess I hadn't worn one to teach my first years yet, so when I walked in I was literally greeted with a round of applause. During class, I kept seeing phones popping up and I realized that students were taking photos of me. I wanted to get a group picture with the class anyway, so I asked them to wait until the end of class, and then after the group picture I was swamped with students wanting to get a picture taken with me. Not only that, they all wanted my autograph. I signed notebooks, textbooks, and dong bills. I reminded them that I wasn't leaving yet, but that didn't seem to matter.

First years, class one

First years, class two

This Sunday, I was to be a judge at the final round of a delta-wide English speaking competition co-organized by Fulbright and hosted by An Giang University. Violet and I decided to make a weekend trip of it. We would meet in Can Tho on Friday, visit the famous floating markets on Saturday morning, and then go to An Giang in the afternoon to be there in time for rehearsal.

You may recall that when my friends came for my birthday back in September, they each had some sort of minor horror story, mostly revolving around the fact that despite their college or university's insistence that a bus could bring them to Ben Tre, they were told that there was no such bus on the day of their intended departure. Andrea, the ETA who lives in Long Xuyen, An Giang, had one of the most stressful and protracted treks that weekend. I have been fortunate enough to not have encountered this kind of frustration, mostly because I can rely on Violet's wheels for any adventures that do not route through HCMC. So, it was high time for me to have my own overcomplicated multi-part transit experience.

Last week I was told that there was a 130pm bus to Can Tho. Perfect. I finish teaching at 11ish on Fridays, so I would have time to lunch and relax before catching one easy, direct bus to my destination. Kim Long took me to the bus station at around 115 but we couldn't find the bus. A seemingly random man who might have been the driver informed us that the bus was having some kind of mechanical trouble and wouldn't be leaving until 330 at the earliest. This was not ideal, but there might still be a bus. Kim Long took me home and took me back to the bus station a little before three. The bus was still nowhere to be found and she set out trying to get more information. I overheard someone say something that sounded like the bus was gone, but Kim Long was busy talking to people and perhaps trying to trouble shoot to keep me abreast of transportational issues or developments. Finally, she reappeared and told me that there was no bus. She called Trang to ask her to explain the situation to me. However, Trang's explanation was very confusing and the result was that I'm not sure whether there was actually no afternoon bus to begin with or whether there just wouldn't be a bus that afternoon. I was about to have Trang arrange for a xe om to take me to Can Tho, when Tammy, a woman from the international office appeared. Rapid fire Vietnamese ensued and a local bus was flagged down and I was still in the dark, though it seemed that a solution might be presenting itself. She told me that her hometown was on the way to Can Tho, and that if I went with her on this bus I could catch another bus that would take me to Can Tho. I was a little skeptical but she was insistent and I figured I didn't have anything to lose. Onto the bus.

Tammy (her real name is Tâm, which means heart) came to Ben Tre College just a few months ago, and at the time I considered her a chatterbox and a busybody, but now she was my travel agent and guardian angel. She told me all about the interesting sites in the delta and she called a bus company to make sure I would have a way to get from Vinh Long to Can Tho. I was less skeptical of her plan, but this is Vietnam so I wasn't counting my chickens just yet. We passed her hometown and she stayed on the bus with me for another hour to accompany me to Vinh Long. She had intended to accompany me to the bus company office, but by then it was almost five and she wouldn't be able to get back home, so she set me up with a xe om driver who was to take me across the ferry, into the city, and to the bus company. Surprise surprise, when we got to the bus company offices and they said there were no more buses. There were also no more buses from the company next door. So, I asked my xe om driver to take me the rest of the way. Despite the fact that I was speaking to him in perfectly comprehensible Vietnamese, he held up his fingers to indicate the price. Sigh. Off we went.
  
He stopped for gas twice, and asked me for more money. Somehow, though he thought it was necessary to use fingers to communicate numbers, he thought I would understand his explanation of why I should give him more money. Since he didn't think highly of my Vietnamese comprehension, I decided to play along, pretend I didn't understand, and evade giving him more money than we had agreed on. On the road, the bus from Vinh Long that supposedly did not exist passed us -- on the way and on its way back. We made it into Can Tho, but since he was from Vinh Long he didn't know how to get around. He tried to drop me off on a random corner because he didn't want to be bothered to find my hotel. When I just sat on the back of his bike, though, it finally occurred to him to ask someone for help. Finally, after every leg of the trip went unaccording to plan, I made it. 

Violet and I decompressed for a while in our golden-yellow room at the Xoai (Mango) Hotel, which gave us mango when we checked in. We went to the riverside to check out the night market and to build a dinner composed of street snacks: bánh tráng trộn, sinh tố thạp cảm, hoành thánh chiên, and xôi gà.

assembling our bánh tráng trộn

luminous hoành thánh chiên (fried wontons)

The next morning we made the effort to wake up at six (sort of early, but not as early as the recommended time of 4am) to visit the floating market. After a short boat ride downstream, we encountered the clot of boats selling produce and snacks. Boats hung or speared produce on tall poles so that you could see what they were selling, even from far away. There were also a couple floating gas stations for convenience. People tossed fruit back and forth. It must have been quite bustling at four.

Dragonfruit in the foreground, fruit poles in the background

Pumpkin boat

Small boat with assorted fruit

Coffee and beverage boat

Tossing watermelons

Hat provided by our boatman, who was concerned for Violet's skin

Back on dry land, we took a walk to look for breakfast and wandered through a non-floating market before getting on the road to Long Xuyen, An Giang. The rain caught us twice but we made it in relatively good time. We got to see Andrea's comparatively luxurious lodgings and went out to dinner with the many officials and faculty members involved in the competition.  

The final round of the competition started on Sunday morning. 32 groups from several delta colleges and universities competed, and today we would evaluate the final six groups. I hate to say it, but the caliber of the students competing in the final round made it clear to me why none of the groups from Ben Tre made it.

First and second place winners

On Monday morning, we had one last breakfast together before Kelly, Violet, and I hit the road towards our respective homes. It took me and Elliot four hours to make it to Long Xuyen by bus when we were going to Phu Quoc, and I was curious how long it would take with Violet at the helm. By some miracle we avoided the rain. The skies were gray all around us, but a clear bright patch stayed above us the whole time we were on the road. We passed through Sa Dec, a town mostly known for being the setting of The Lover, a famous novel.

Sa Dec Post Office

We were just 16km from home when we got a flat tire. Luckily, motorbike repair shops line most roads, and we didn't have to walk very far before we found someone to patch us up and get us back on the road. Even with that delay, we made the whole trip in just under four hours, and less than half an hour after we made it home the patient sky opened up and unleashed the afternoon rains.