Enter the dragon

Welcome to the year of the dragon! By Vietnamese measure, I am officially 24. Literally since my first day in Ben Tre, I was asked what my Tet plans were. Naturally, I had none. Campus wheels have been turning since then, and I finally get to experience the plans that have been underway since August.

1.20.12
I got back from HCMC in the morning and I was supposed to meet Mr. Luan and his family at 5pm. To be honest, this was the Tet day I'd been most worried about; because Mr. Luan is my supervisor for translations, I associate him with feelings of stress and frustration. However, we got off to a great start. It turns out that when we're one on one and having casual conversation instead of trying to exchange instructions, playing English fill-in-the-blank isn't so bad. I joined him, his wife, his son, and Ms. My (remember her from my early bike riding days?) at the flower market. Everyone thinks the flower market is the most beautiful thing ever and has been talking to me about it for weeks. One street along the river gets overrun by plant vendors selling everything from potted flowers to small flowering trees to pepper plants. It was pretty, but it wasn't as stunning to me as everyone else seems to think it is. We spent most of the time strolling and chatting and exchanging English and Vietnamese names for each plant. They bought me a cotton candy and, I kid you not, after little more than a minute it started melting and crystallizing. Essentially, the extreme humidity in the air was causing it to do what it would normally do in your mouth.

Welcome to the new year's flower market!

Who can spot the flower vendor?

I'm not sure at what point I started feeling unwell, whether it was before the pre-moistened cotton candy or after, but by the time we headed to dinner I was definitely feeling worried. We found a place that sold bánh xèo. I tried to use my sneaky tactic of eating slowly to avoid getting too many refills, but it didn't quite work. At some point, everyone else got full, and it was decided that it was my job to finish what was left. Long before this point, I was already struggling. I was not happy with this decision. Maybe I was too tired to resist, or maybe they were unusually forceful, but I ended up eating way way more than my body was willing to accept. And then we went somewhere else for dessert. I wasn't able to decline ordering dessert, but I did succeed in leaving it unfinished. All of that food ended up making a comeback later that evening. While it was unpleasant, it taught me that I need to be willing to stand firmer when I feel full in the coming days of feasting.

1.21.12
My next Tet stop was Mr. Bao Duy's house. He is the head of the English department. His wife picked me up and when I got to his house I spent a while hanging out with his kids. The whole family speaks English quite well, so socializing was very easy for me. His daughter is 20 and studies accounting at a university HCMC. It turns out that she doesn't really like accounting and is only studying it because she didn't know what to study and her dad recommended it. She's planning on being an accountant, anyway, but what she really likes is journalism, which she is involved in during her free time. His son is still in elementary school but speaks English excellently, though of course somewhat shyly. They have a tiny, adorable, bug-eyed, chihuahua-like puppy that was literally an ankle-biter.

Mr. Bao Duy invited me to photograph him making offerings at his family altar, and then it was time to eat. Very much in contrast with what normally happens, I experienced almost no insistence that I eat more and hardly any food ended up on my plate that I didn't put there myself. I had to wonder if word might have gotten out about the results from the night before. After the meal they saw the impending post-meal-coma in my eyes and offered me a bed to take a nap. Saints! Given that the flower market is pretty much the most exciting thing in all the land right now, I was taken on a second visit before being taken back to my room.

Not all of the courses were out when I took this picture

Flower market again

1.22.12

Have I mentioned that my Vietnamese name is Xuân Mai
(Spring Apricot Blossom)? It is the Tet flower because it
blooms briefly and almost exactlyduring this holiday season.

I woke up at 6am so that Ms. Trang could drop me off at Ms. Hoang's house, and I got in their family car to go to Ms. Hoang's husband's father's house. I should mention, this is the only Vietnamese person I know who owns a car. I didn't have breakfast because I figured we'd be eating soon and a lot. But, I guess 8am is a little early for lunch, even by Vietnamese standards. I was told to sit in the corner but I tried to find ways to be helpful. Ms. Hoang and her son were de-stemming some herbs on the floor and I sat down to help them. I couldn't help but think about the expression, 'the floors are clean enough to eat off of,' and the fact that in Vietnam they're always clean enough to cook and eat off of. I got to slice bread. They set me up for slicing on the floor, but as soon as I lowered myself to the ground everyone laughed as though this were preposterous and insisted that I work at the table.

By the time we finished ferrying five plates worth of each different dish to the three tables, my appetite was saying bring it on. Again, I was pretty much left to my own devices when it came to serving myself, something I was perfectly happy with. I was certainly encouraged to eat more, but in a very non-aggressive way.

One of the tables

I was informed that one of the teachers I used to teach in the FCE class last semester lived nearby, and we were to go visit him. At first I thought he was just going to come get me and take me to his house, which I was not totally comfortable with given the past joking but forward behavior of my male FCE students, but when I realized that Ms. Hoang would be coming too I went along with the plan. The three of us squeezed onto his motorbike. It wasn't as uncomfortable or precarious-feeling as I was expecting, but I was glad he only lived about 1km away. Of course, he plied us with more food. We went on a tour of his garden/massive yard/orchard. Apparently his land extends across the river, but we didn't go so far.

Three on a bike

Mosquitoes the size of penny-sized apricot blossom petals!

When we got back to Ms. Hoang's I was invited to observe a cockfight. Apparently cockfights are a big part of Tet, not so much because of tradition as because people have nothing else to do. It's illegal to bet on the fights, but of course people do it anyway. The winner becomes more expensive and the loser becomes dinner. I have to say, the fight was neither as dramatic nor as depressing as I was expecting. After the first couple of face offs it was clear that there wouldn't really be a winner, just a less loser. The roosters lost their spunk quickly but the fight doesn't end until one dies, so their handlers kept setting them up again and again. The only reason I stuck around until the end was because Ms. Hoang asked me which one I thought would win and I wanted to stay and find out whether I called it right. I did.

Face of when they still felt like it

Their ankles are taped up with a big metal barb curving outward at the back

1.23.12
It was new year's day and I would be spending it at Trang's parents' house. I arrived and was eagerly greeted by cheers and jumping up and down from Trang's oldest brothers' kids. It felt like coming home to family. The morning started with breakfast and the usual calm and surprising conversation with Trang's dad. We all hung out for a while and, throughout the morning, several of his eleven brothers and sisters (whom I did not previously know existed) and their families dropped by. I watched little kids get goaded into delivering new year's wishes to their elders in exchange for envelopes of lucky money. Money aside, I like the tradition of exchanging thoughtful good wishes. To this end, I learned a few lines in Vietnamese to make sure I could greet my hosts properly.

I had been warned that I would have work to do today. Trang's dad's 8th sibling (who is actually the 7th because Trang's dad, the 1st, is for some reason called the 2nd) invited me to his house to wrap Tet cakes. I'm not sure what distinguishes Tet cakes from any other glutinous rice cakes, especially since I saw several varieties of Tet cakes, but I got to help make them marketable. One woman was doing most of the work: she prepped banana leaves, scooped rice onto them, weighed them to make sure it was the right amount, added the log of filling, rolled it like a giant sushi, and tied banana leaves around the whole thing. Then we would re-tie it tighter, but that makes our job sound easier than it was. I watched Trang do it once and then I got to work. The woman finishing up the ones that Trang and I wrapped was astounded at my beautiful handiwork. She kept holding up my finished Tet cakes and waxing about them in Vietnamese for several minutes at a time. I could only understand her praising tone and frequent use of the word for beautiful. One time I tied it so tight that I squeezed some sort of fluid (ew?) out of the log. Apparently that's a good thing, because everyone was impressed.

The setup

Hard at work

Beautiful Tet cake

Slices of Tet cake, filled with green bean paste and pork fat, which you eat
with pork, broth, and eggs.

Working women and 8th Uncle

Now it was time to go back to Trang's parents' house and take a nap. I didn't need telling twice. A few hours later we headed to Trang's sister's house. Some weeks ago, when Trang was telling me about how superstitious people only want people with 'good names' to visit them on new year's day, and are especially particular about the first person who arrives, we had a funny conversation.

• My mother's name is Good.
• It's good? What is it?
• It's Good.
• Yes, what does it mean?
• It's Good, but my husband's name is Better.
• What is it?
• It's Better.

It didn't take too too long for me to figure out, but it was a real life Who's on First moment. Anyway, we had to wait for Trang's husband to get to her sister's house first before we could arrive. Once we got there, it was of course time to eat again. I've been in Vietnam long enough to recognize the spread as the assortment necessary for a build your own spring roll fest. Yum. After happily re-stuffing myself to the gills and drinking some Russian champagne it was time for gambling. Another Tet gambling endeavor is bingo. I played with Trang, her son, her sister, and her mom; her dad was our bookie. It was decided that it was a great time for me to practice Vietnamese, so after the first round I had to be the caller for the rest of the game. I won once, and Trang's sister won every other game. However, my winnings were enough for me to buy a second mat for the last round and break even at the end of the game.

Sping roll ingredients

My winning row

Receiving my winnings

This whole week I've been a little confused. It's the holiday season here, but it isn't a holiday season in my tradition, but it is a holiday season in the life I'm currently leading. In some ways, it has felt more like a holiday season than Thanksgiving, Christmas, or New Year's. I had the friends and family, which was wonderful, but I couldn't really carry out any of my traditions. Now I am lacking the friends and family from home, but it feels good to participate in traditions, even if they are not my own. I'm so immersed in it here that when I talk to people back home I'm taken aback when I am reminded that their life is celebration free, business as usual. Today was particularly nice because I felt like a part of the family and a part of the celebrations. When I was talking to Trang's dad in the morning I was remembering that I was doing the same thing five and a half months ago on my first weekend in Ben Tre. I didn't know these people, and yet they took me into their home. Now, I feel like I've been taken into their family, too.

On the way home, Trang and I started exchanging folktales and fables. She told me one that I found particularly striking and will now share with you.

A young woman came to visit her mother. She was overwhelmed by the difficulties in her life and felt like giving up. Her mother listened to her and then got up without saying anything. She set up three pots of water on the stove. In one, she placed a carrot; in the second, she placed an egg. In the last pot, she put some coffee beans. After the pots boiled for some time she asked her daughter to examine the contents of each pot. The carrot had become soft; the egg, hard. The water containing the coffee had become fragrant and flavorful. The mother said to her daughter, "Some people are like the carrot and let life's difficulties change them from being strong to being weak. Some people are like the egg. They start out gentle and sensitive but become hardened under life's burdens. Some people are like coffee beans: they change the circumstances around them into something better. Which one will you be like?"

Given that it is the new year yet again, I will make one more resolution about life in Vietnam and life in general. I will be a coffee bean.

Mom + Vietnam: Farewell

Friday
It was the last day. We left campus before noon, but that was still plenty of time for people to load down my mom with even more gifts of coconut candy and sun-dried bananas, and a last minute sampling of water coconut (not to be confused with coconut water) and peanut milk. Once we arrived in HCMC around 1:30 we had plenty of time before my mom's near-midnight flight, and we hit the last few pending sights and repeated a favorite.

There was a church whose spire we could always see from our street, but we hadn't made it in that direction our first weekend in HCMC. We couldn't go inside, but there were a few grottos outside, one for the Virgin Mary, one for Joseph, and one for Jesus.

Wall of plaques of gratitude

The heat drove us to walk all the way to the riverside café we visited last time. It had been my mom's favorite place in HCMC. I was proud of myself for navigating us there (and everywhere else) without a map. I was craving a frozen lemonade, but I have yet to see that in Vietnam, so I quenched my thirst with the next best thing: the popular Vietnamese beverage of club soda, lemon, and sugar. We said farewell to the river as an epic sunset lit up the sky.

As you like it

Goodbye came too soon and it wasn't easy. Fortunately, Brittanye was also in HCMC, welcoming her mom while I was saying goodbye. Jet lag claimed her mom early, and Brittanye and I went out for a few hours before I had to return to solo life as usual. 

Saturday
I let myself sleep in, and then pampered myself with pasta for breakfast at a time that most Vietnamese people are eating lunch. I bussed back to campus and expected that to be the extent of the day's events. Instead, in the afternoon, I was invited to a wedding. I'd heard mixed reviews of weddings from a few ETAs who have already had the experience, and I was curious what mine would bring. I guess I should be more specific. I didn't go to a wedding itself, just a wedding reception. I later found out that the wedding hasn't actually taken place yet; it will be tomorrow. People usually have one reception for the groom's guests, one for the bride's, and one for both, in addition to the wedding ceremony itself, and all of these are spread out over several days. Tonight's phase of celebration included a few speeches, some professional dancers, a glitter cannon, sparks, dry ice, and a seven-course meal.

Sparks and love were in the air

Dance...

...then dine. Course 1: including the best tofu I've ever had

Course 3

Course 4, lotus root salad

Course 5: pork-stuffed fish

Course 7: mystery dessert

Even though I knew few people would be wearing aó dài, I took the opportunity to wear my green and white one. I really like it, but it feels too formal to wear for teaching. Needless to say, by the end of those seven courses, I had to slightly unzip my aó dài pants to be able to breathe. We had barely taken the last bite of the mysterious coconut dessert when it was time to go.

Mom + Vietnam: Ben Tre 2

Tuesday

The day started with stew: bò kho for breakfast. It wasn't bad, but it probably isn't something I'll have again. My mom and I planned to go to the city center later on, but by the time I got done doing the things I needed to do, it was noon. Noon, in case you were wondering, is not a good time to go anywhere. Everyone is napping, and everyone is asleep. I decreed that our trip downtown would have to wait a few hours, and my mom reluctantly accepted. At around 2pm citywide naptime was over and we went to the bus stop with gray clouds rolling in. We crept under a nearby shop's umbrella to wait for the bus and wait out the storm that would follow the early trickle of drops. As the drizzle turned to downpour and the rain took on a sharply diagonal angle, the kindly shopkeeper (featured in Day 62 on the photo blog) urged us under her roof. The rain fell even harder and, even several feet away from the edge of cover, we couldn't stay dry. We were handed cooked bananas, which turned out to be cooked green bananas and tasted like boiled potatoes. We spent at least forty minutes waiting out the rain, maybe 100 yards from my room but unable to go anywhere. At long last, the rain began to subside, and lo and behold the bus (which is supposed to come every ten minutes) emerged, climbing the arc of the bridge. I do not question whether the strength of the rain and the timing of the bus were related. We were on our way.

On the bus. Oh, and that's not Yoda hanging from the mirror.

The school provided me with a bus pas that I haven't yet used as much as I should. Usually, when I do use it, it is met with consternation. I should explain, it's not just a standard issue card or something like that; it's a laminated document with my picture and lots of Vietnamese words. Most of the time the bus attendant reads through the whole thing, consults with the bus driver, and begrudgingly accepts the fact that I don't have to pay (and, I suspect, overcharges my companion to compensate). This time, though, the bus attendant glanced at it and charged neither me nor my mom. We thought the rain had cleared, but in fact we had just beaten it to the south side of town, and as soon as we got off the bus the ominous pre-storm drizzle began. We ran for cover in the market and did some window shopping while we waited out the storm, yet again. By the time the rain headed out for good, we were hungry. I took Mom to the bánh ướt place Trang took me to when I first arrived in Ben Tre. Like many of my food experiences these last few days, that meal exceeded my memory of its deliciousness. It was good.

Last time I took the bus, I had to wait an hour for the bus back, and even then it wasn't even a bus going back, they just consented to take me to the college. This time, Mom and I waited less than five minutes. Back on campus, it was time for the teacher's English club. It started as question time for Mom, and somehow transitioned into a vocab lesson for both me and my students, and vocabulary lesson is just code for pictionary.

Wednesday
We went on the river tour today, the same one I did on my birthday weekend, though this one ended up including more. This was probably the one thing I had been most looking forward to about the two weeks of my mom's visit. Just like last time, the taxi driver tried to take us to the wrong place, and I still don't fully understand why. When I called to reserve the tour my request for an English speaker eventually led to the same tour guide I had last time. I guess they don't get many Ben Tre 'locals' requesting an English speaker, because he asked if I was the person who had come back in September. He had been such a great guide I hoped/assumed he would be our guide again. However, we had a different guide this time around. At first I was a little disappointed, but he ended up being awesome in his own right.

I actually spent the whole boat ride sitting right about here

The tour was quite captivating

After making our way down the Mekong, we entered a meandering canal that eventually led us to an apiary. There, bees feed on the nectar from longan trees and make a particularly sweet and flavorful honey, which is used to prepare honey tea. Honey tea is actually tea, honey, and kumquat juice. My mom and I savored the whole experience (Morena sought refuge from the bees that buzzed around, wanting their honey back), and got to try pollen mixed into the tea and royal jelly mixed with honey. At the tea place, there was also a big ole python. They let me get cozy with it, but the python sounded more aggravated than snuggly. Is it a sign that I have been around snakes too much when I can infer when one is aggravated?

This snake was big, heavy, and kind of angry.

We walked for a while amongst the greenery and our multi-talented guide entertained us with tricks and games. He showed us how to shoot palm leaves at each other, make tiny vuvuzuelas out of a piece of banana leaf, pop a young leaf to make a loud noise, and cut young leaves that stick to your skin. He was quite the entertainer. We rode a horse-drawn cart to our next destination of fresh fruits and traditional music. There was another, smaller, python there.

Time to set up a betting pool on how many me+snake
photo shoots I can amass while in Vietnam.

I even convinced my mom and Morena, neither of whom is a fan of snakes, to hold the snake. After the music and more tricks from our tour guide (juggling, flipping spoons into cups, disappearing fruits) we got into a canoe to go back to the main fork of the Mekong. Last time, this was essentially the end of the tour. This time, we went on to visit a coconut candy factory. I must say, the word factory is used pretty loosely. It was an open-air, roofed space with a few machines (one of each) and two women lackadaisically chopping and packing the hardened candy. We were told that this candy was 70% coconut milk, 15% sugar, and 15% malt, whereas many other factories make their candy using only about 30% coconut milk and way more sugar.

Hard workers at the coconut candy factory

Our next stop was Phoenix Island, also known as the island of the coconut monk, also known as a tourist trap. You can feed crocodiles, visit a sort of temple that looks like it belongs on a mini-golf course, and eat. We opted to try the elephant ear fish, native to the area. You can eat every part of it except for the spines. A deft waitress pried the deep fried meat off of it and spring rolled it for us, then tore it apart for us to crunch our way through the fins and tail and everything else that was left. It was good.

Feeeeeed meeee

Either mini-golf or giant pinball

Our fish post-spring rolling, pre-dismantling

Thursday

"If you can find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn't lead anywhere." - Unknown

Today was a Vietnam love/hate day. After I taught class, Mom and I went to the supermarket to buy me a pillow that is softer than a bag of bricks. While we were there, I also took the opportunity to buy a jar of tomato sauce that my mom found. Now that I also have a suitcase-imported parmesan cheese I think my pasta nights will be even better. Across the street from the supermarket is a park with a massive statue of a woman. A few days ago Ms. Trang told us that it is a tribute to the 'long-haired soldiers.' Apparently, Ben Tre is famous for a historic contingent of female soldiers.

After that, we were going to catch the bus back to campus. Now, the last time I tried to catch a bus from outside of the supermarket, I watched one zoom by without stopping, waited a good half-hour for another, and eventually gave up and tried again at another bus stop. So, I wasn't all too sure that my plan to catch the bus here would work. (Part of the reason that I don't take the bus very often is that I have not had much success figuring out how to get back after I get to my destination.) My mom suggested that I ask someone whether the bus would be the right one, but my automatic reaction was to say 'I don't know how.' After a while, though, I realized that I did know how. I worked up the courage (and the appetite) to ask a nearby woman selling spring rolls about it. Not only did I ask her, she understood me, AND the clincher: I understood her answer, which was that the bus wouldn't go to the college but it would take us to the roundabout. I gave myself a gold star for the day.

In the evening we had a farewell dinner for my mom. We got to savor bò lá lốt (misspelled lốp at the place on my street, but not the place we went) at the best place in town (featured on Day 78). Mom loved it, and said she now understood why my favorite dish changes every time I eat. For me, it was even better than I remembered.

Now it's time to explain the quote. My stay in Vietnam has recently hit a pretty big snag. Many of my fellow ETAs had trouble getting their visas before coming, and have had to deal with a series of headaches throughout their stays. I was thankful to have easily gotten a year-long multiple entry visa. But perhaps I counted my chickens before they were hatched. A few days ago I realized that I may or may not have been in this country illegally for four months. Even though my visa gave me permission to be here through June of 2012, the official who stamped my passport decided that I only deserved to be here until August 10, 2011 -- less than two weeks after my date of entry -- and it seems that this stamp carries more weight than the visa. Who, what why how? Somehow, despite the innumerable times my passport and visa have been checked by airport personnel, hotel owners, and college administrators, no one had noticed until now. I guess I'm thankful that it was noticed by a hotel receptionist in Ben Tre and not somewhere where I would have been left stranded and shelterless. But for now I'm frustrated. My passport was taken to HCMC to get things sorted out and, even though I was told that I'd have it back this afternoon, this evening I was told I won't have it back until the 8th. I'm supposed to go to the Fulbright mid-year conference on the 9th. The times I feel most overwhelmed by Vietnam are the times when I am powerless to confront the obstacles before me. There is nothing I can do about this. As is often the case here, I don't even really fully know what's going on. So pray, cross your fingers, wish on 11:11. Help me overcome my obstacles, because I know this isn't a dead end.

Mom + Vietnam: Hanoi

Friday
Due to our overzealously early departure from Ben Tre, our delayed flight out of HCMC, and the hour-long drive in from the airport, we had quite a long day of traveling. By the time we finally made it in, it was almost dark and we were hungry. We headed towards the lake and found a cơm bình dân (rice etc.) place along the way. This is something that doesn't really exist, or at least not in the same way, in the south, so I was excited for my mom to try it. It was a popular place and had quite the variety of et ceteras, but because of the prime location by the lake, the prices were rather steep.

From there, we swung by a few souvenir shops on our way to the rooftop café that I frequented when I lived in Hanoi. In our enjoyment of the view, we forgot to actually walk down to the lake's edge, and only admired it from afar.

View from the top

On the way back we walked through the night market, and I stumbled into the easiest bargain ever. I spotted a pair of turquoise heels that happened to be in my size. As I tried them on, it occurred to me that I should ask how much they cost. The conversation went something like this:
- How much?
- 300.
- Whoa! Too much.
- 200.
- Enh.
- 150.
How could I say no to that? I only wondered if I should have actually tried and gotten the price even lower. Somewhere in the middle of that he also asked me if I was from/lived in southern Vietnam. Sounds like I've got an accent.

Saturday
After a slow breakfast Mom and I went to the Hanoi Fine Arts Museum. I never got to see it while I was here in August, so it was part of the unfinished business I hoped to get to on this trip. It was the first museum I've been to in Vietnam that really felt like a museum - not poorly lit, overheated, or water-stained. The art was arranged chronologically, starting with works from about 3000 years ago. Some of those ancient works were Đông Sơn bronze drums, whose decorations I recognized as still-popular motifs whose origin I had previously wondered about. In addition to learning about Vietnam's rich art history, I expanded my vocabulary thanks to the Vietnamese/French/English labels for all of the works of art. The next two floors showed the influence of French Impressionism, silk paintings, modern experimental lacquer paintings, and works representing and responding to the country's history of conflict. It was a lot to take in, in a good way. We spent two hours there and it would have been nice to have maybe one more, but we had to cut our visit short to prepare for Thanksgiving with the Ambassador.

Me, my mom, and eleven other ETAs headed to 'The Residence' as indicated on our invitations. We arrived, and after being stared at by someone behind the gate, we were told that there was no one there. It seemed we had gone to the wrong place. I told my mom she was in the midst of a very Vietnam experience. Eventually we made it to the right place, and enjoyed hors d'oeuvres on the rooftop, looking out over the city. Once we were done mingling, we were summoned inside to heap our gold-rimmed US china plates with long-awaited Thanksgiving fare. I ended up sitting at the Ambassador's table, next to him, in fact.

State Department china

The whole group

By the time the homemade apple pie was gone, several hours of easy conversation had passed, and it was time to say thanks and good night.

We ETAs proceeded to a concert hosted by the American Club, featuring Dengue Fever, a band I discovered and fell in love with back when they performed at Scripps a few years ago. We ended up getting in for free thanks to our Embassy connections, and it was a blast.

My view of the stage

The stage's view of me (lower left)

Sunday
Mom decided that she couldn't come all the way to Vietnam, then come all the way to Hanoi, and then not make it to Ha Long Bay, now 'provisionally named' one of the New Seven Wonders of  Nature. We started with an exquisite multi-course meal, made all the more exquisite by the fact at our table three shared a meal meant for four.

Next, we buckled on our life-vests and spent some time kayaking in the bay. Last time I came to Ha Long, the area we kayaked was so crowded with fellow tourists it almost felt like bumper cars. This time, my mom and I were the only ones who kayaked, and we had the inlet all to ourselves. It was a different inlet than last time, and there were tunnels under the karsts for us to paddle through. Unfortunately, the safest place for my camera was back on the big boat, so no pictures of our adventures. After that had our cave visit.

We only had time for a day trip, so all too soon we had to head back to dry land. Because it was a day trip, we spent almost eight hours on a bus, round trip, for five hours on the bay. Even though I was not 100% convinced at first, it was totally worth it, even bearing in mind that I'd already been there. When I was last there it was still summer and the landscape was clear and blue and green; now it was winter and gray and misty. You couldn't see as far, so it was hard to perceive the magnitude of the bay, but it took on a whole new personality.

Photo credit: Mom

We didn't get back to Hanoi until eight pm, but the day was far from over. I was determined that my mom see and experience as much of Hanoi as our limited time allowed. First order of business was dinner and, once again, we set out for the lake. Once upon a time, back when I was living in Hanoi, I happened upon a corner food stand that looked interesting, but we were headed somewhere or we had already eaten and we did not stop there. I had no idea where it was, and I never got to eat there. However, the route I charted towards the lake ended up taking us to that very same corner, and I got to check off Hanoi unfinished business number two. I discovered that the name of the dish is mý vằn thắn, and it is a noodle soup with dumplings, hard boiled egg, meat, liver, stuffed crunchy things, and a few other mystery ingredients for good measure. It was, as always, delicious.

How many ingredients can you spot?

When time came to pay, I asked, in Vietnamese, how much. She didn't seem to hear me so, in Vietnamese, I called her attention and asked again. As you can kind of see in the picture above, it was a tiny place and four of us patrons were sitting practically shoulder to shoulder to enjoy the corner's delights. Anyway, the cook fumbled around in her cash receptacle to pull out the amount of money I needed to give her. Our fellow patrons started exclaiming, repeating the words that I'd said, and from context clues it was pretty clear that they were indignant on my behalf. My Vietnamese inquiries should have indicated to her that she could have just told me how much instead of going to the trouble of demonstrating. With that little feather in my cap, we continued on towards the lake.

They have added many colorful lights since I was living there, so the lake at night was a new sight even for me. We took a leisurely stroll around it, taking a detour for young rice ice cream.

Bridge to the pagoda on the island in the lake

Pagoda guardian by night

The ice cream was from a place that's been around for over 50 years. It was something I really wanted my mom to try (and, honestly, just really wanted to have again), but I was worried that it would be closed. Fortunately, it was still bustling by the time we arrived, and my cravings were fulfilled. It was even better than I remembered, and a sweet conclusion to our bustling weekend in Hanoi.

Also, 100th post!