People often ask me why, upon finding out where I was born, I chose to live up here in Hanoi as opposed to down south. I don’t speak the northern dialogue. It’s cold here in the winter and too hot in the summer.
I simply answer that at least 5 months out the year the weather is cool enough to wear a sweater, long pants and shoes. I can understand northerners perfectly well and if they work at it a little they can understand me too. But maybe the most important reason for living in Hanoi is the city’s accessibility to amazing scenery. And, other than a boat tour to Ha Long Bay, the best way to take in this scenery is to go touring on motorbikes, an activity followed by northerners, Vietnamese and expats alike, with religious fervor.
Up until recently, my motorbike trips have been 2-3 days with at least one rest day thrown in. A good handful of us went up to Ba Be National Park last September and then in November a few of us took a shorter tour down to Cuc Phuong National Park. But none of us had taken on the great big tours or the northwest, north and northeast, each of which takes something like 5 days to do properly.
Here is what happened on day one of nine.
This is our crew having dinner at our favorite guesthouse in Ba Be. To be honest it’s the only guesthouse any of us have ever slept at here but we like the proprietors so much that we decided to bed down here on this trip too.
Starting from the left front is Kay, my good friend from the US. Kay has not worked for almost a year, taking her own sweet time globetrotting. We were so glad that she decided to pay us a visit, adding enthusiasm and joy. Next is Mandy, my sweetheart-a German national working for a tour agency in Hanoi. Then that's me, in case you don't recognize me.
Across from me is Manu, fellow volleyballer and great logistical addition to our team. He's the only one of us who has experience with the roads further on. He loves the rice wine in the countryside. Then comes Kristi-English teacher, volleyballer and frequent tourer. We travelled together down to Cuc Phuong National Park last fall. To her left is Luke, her boyfriend and CIA agent. Can't say to much more about him just yet. He won't allow me to, but somehow, somewhere within this blog he will be exposed.
The person taking the photo is Daria. You might know her from the first trip to Ba Be, the Cuc Phuong tour and many other fun things that have happened here in Hanoi. She's usually the instigator of such adventures. She's Swiss and works for the UN on behalf of Vietnam's Women's issues. She is driving the Honda Win that was purchased down in Thanh Hoa.
We started early from Hanoi, going north, to avoid the holiday traffic. On this day, May 30, 2010, Vietnam celebrated its 35 years of reunification, a tainted day in US history as the “fall of Saigon”. Every bus stop overflowed with folks trying to get home for the long weekend. And by the time we got up to the city of Thai Nguyen, the streets began to empty.
Another few hours of driving on beautiful country roads led to Ba Be National Park with its beautiful lake. The last time here we approached the park in darkness and were not able savor the scenery. The highlight of this day for me was seeing the entrance of the Lake from the south end in the afternoon sun.
We got to Hoa Son guesthouse with plenty of time to swim in the lake, check on our motorbikes and have a leisurely dinner before bedding down.
Other than the first few hours out of Hanoi, this was an uneventful day, the last eventful day until the end of the trip.
*Photos courtesy of Kriti Cruz, Kay Okamoto and Daria Hagemann
Hanoi is made up of many communities and I am lucky enough be acquainted with folks from almost every one of them. My friends Daria and Christophe work for the UN. Luke works for the US embassy and Raffa’s father is the Moroccan Ambassador. There are the folks that teach English and those that work for NGO’s who I call friends.
Then there is a group of journalists here in Hanoi that serve as correspondents for local publications as well as world re-known news agencies like the Associated Press and NPR. Mike Ives, a good friend, is a Hanoi-based freelance reporter who contributes stories to US based newspapers. He, as far as I’m concerned, is the most well traveled of all my friends here in Hanoi.
Within the last 8 months he was in Laos for what seemed like 2 months and spent almost just as much time in China chasing stories. So, when he came up with an idea, an excuse really, to go down to the southern delta of Vietnam to research a story about the catfish industry he called me to duty.
The object of the story is to travel down there and learn about the aquaculture of this controversial fish and get an insider/local perspective. I would play fixer, translator and photographer. We would stay in my ancestral home. And we would eat incredible food.
First stop was Saigon or Ho Chi Minh City. I met up with Mike at the heart of the city to begin our journey west on the local buses. And going local in this mode would flavor our entire journey. And as we opened a window while the bus careened down highway 1 the tropical air pelted us with oven hot dust and occasionally washed us in cool, damp breezes wafting from the ever-present swampy rice fields. Four hours later we found ourselves in my hometown, An Hũu, where we rested and prepared for dinner.
And what was on the menu you might ask? Catfish, of course! And if you thought that we’d have a crazy variety of preparations for the fish you’d be wrong, like I was wrong expecting the same.
The Catfish from this province, Tiền Giang, is called “Tre” and it’s mostly farmed in small lakes. It is white skinned, tender and seemingly fragile. Think of a fatty trout and you would be getting the idea of its texture. It is too fragile to fry unless it is battered.
To cook it my relatives either make a sweet and sour soup, “canh chua”, or they stew it in a clay pot with lots of broth/juice called “cá kho tọ”. The two dishes in combination is, believe me, delicious and inseparable, like a hamburger with fries or eggs with bacon. The soup is sweet from the pineapple and the fish. It is also sour from the tamarind and tomatoes. There is a little bitterness from the bean sprout ends, the okra and the taro stems. The clay pot stew brings the umami flavors from the caramelizing of sugar with fish sauce. The Vietnamese word for this strong flavor is “mặn”, which means savory. And this is the exact meaning of umami.
Here are a couple pictures of one of those meals, lunch at my relative’s land where he farms logan and rents out a small lake to a company that farms catfish. Or should I say rented.
Catfish as a commodity declined within the last couple years due to an American economic policy of domestic business protection, where at one time the US accounted for 75% of Vietnam’s catfish export market. Apparently the low cost of Vietnamese catfish were putting the hurt on catfish farmers in the Southern US. Now his little lake sits empty except for a few dozen fishes that the family consumes. Normally it is filled with 175,000 “Tre”. In Tiền Giang Province catfish farming has declined as much as 50%.
To get to his farm from my hometown, my second uncle picked us up in his long boat and took us thru a tranquil maze of waterways across the most easterly of the Mekong River branches. The water was cool. The air was refreshing. And the tropical sun was searing. We hid as much as we could underneath our hats from the midday sun trying to savor each shady spot provided by overgrown mango or avocado trees. But crossing the mighty Mekong exposed us to the scorching sun, luckily the increase in boat speed helped. Near my hometown during what is called “summer” the heat can be unrelenting like it is anywhere in the world just before a downpour of thunder showers.
Further up the Mekong River and butted up to the border of Cambodia is the town of Châu Dốc in the province of An Giang, the epicenter of catfish farming in Vietnam. So prosperous was the industry at one time that the local government, with donations from the big catfish processing houses, erected this stainless steel sculpture on a park overlooking the river and its floating farms.
The catfish produced here is called Ba Sa. Unlike it’s cousin down stream, the Ba Sa cannot be farmed in non-moving waters. Instead of lakes these are contained within nets under floating houses on the river. And when the water is low a boat motor is employed to keep the river effect flowing.
Ba Sa, from what we learned, is the only fish in these parts that cannot reproduce in captivity. They are caught up stream in Cambodia and then raised contained. Then six or eight months later they go to market, which in this case means they go to the processing houses where they are filleted and their carcasses sold back to the local community under the cover of night in the wee hours of the morning.
When asked about why catfish is so much more popular than the other fishes, the answers reverb with health benefits, taste and ease of farming. Apparently they have the good fats for reducing cholesterol. This fat also makes them tasty and tender. There are much fewer allergic reactions from eating of these catfish. And one holding or one small lake can yield almost 300,000 fish a year at a price of 10,000 to 13,000 VND per kilo, .50 to .75 cents per kilo, amounting close to $125,000 annually.
Not bad when the overhead is something like $60 a month for labor, $800 for rental space if using someone else’s land and $15,000 to $20,000 for feed.
“An Giang is rich all thanks to the Ba Sa!” said our boat driver and one time Ba Sa house-boat worker. He also said that we should sample the local Ba Sa specialty dish-Lẩu Mắm Châu Đóc. This is Châu Đóc style hot pot made with the pungent soup base of salted, fermented fish….stuff, probably the fish head-spine-tail left over from the processing factories.
Here in Châu Đóc the Ba Sa is a little bit more robust than the Tre in Tiền Giang. It gets fried, boiled and steamed. They make sausages out of it too. A local, friend of my cousin, who was showing us around, said that the factories innovated all these new dishes for their buyers.
And like these buyers, Mike and I sat and feasted on the Ba Sa hotpot while looking up at pictures of the many different dishes made from the fish. The hot and humid air-of the tropics and of the boiling cauldron, was tempered by the oscillating fan. Mike’s ice cold Bia Saigon and my Coke on ice also helped to softened the blow of the heat.
Our local friend mentioned that only thing missing was a special herb that is commonly dipped into the hot pot. “It helps round out the sharp savory flavors of the mắm when in season.” He said.
It was no matter to me. We had traveled deep into the delta, hung out with my family and ate incredibly well, all the while learning about this region’s economy from one its most prized produce.
Just recently returned from a big motorbike trip but I really need to post up a few stories leading up to this trip otherwise it will overshadow everything prior.
So, I went down south of Hanoi at the announcement from my friend Son that there is a Honda Win for sale by his neighbor in his hometown.
And, we’ll start our first Vietnamese lesson now with the word “quê”, which means native place or hometown. As in the often-asked question, “Quê của bạn ỏ đâu?” Or, “Where is your hometown?”
Son’s hometown is south of Hanoi about 160km, next to the ocean in the gulf of China near the beach resort of Sam Son.
We went down there to purchase this motorbike, a Japanese made, semi-off road bike that we would use for motorbike tours here in the north. It’s for my friend Daria but when she moves back to Switzerland next year I hope to take it over.
These bikes are now the ubiquitous vehicles for workers in the countryside. So popular they are that there are now many different variations and models. The highest of quality are those originally made in Japan, then come Thai and Indonesian models with the Vietnamese and Chinese being the cheapest.
We spent two days to retrieve this because it’s a Japanese model and because Son wanted to visit with his new-born son.
My friend Son works next door to my local coffee shop in Hanoi as a coffee shop manager. He only returns home once a month and hasn’t spent too much time there since his son was born in January. Needless to say it was a fun trip if not a little too exciting as we drove the motorbike back to Hanoi via National Highway 1, a total death trap.
Here is a little video of Son’s hometown, quê của Sơn.
When you come to Vietnam for a visit or if you happen to be staying here, don't hesitate to take up offers from Vietnamese friends to visit their hometown. To Vietnamese, their hometown is a sacred place. It is where they were born and where their relatives live. And, it defines them.
For instance, Son's father and father-in-law were both soldiers in the northern army. Their homes are adorned with pictures of them in officer regalia, which I don't see very often in Hanoi. And, once I returned and after asking some questions about Thanh Hoa, I learned that this area of the country was where the revolution to expel westerners began.
So what started out as a trip to purchase a motorbike ended up being a journey to a friend's homeland to glimpse back at Vietnam's history.
Many of you by now have heard of Critical Mass, those raucous bike rides all over the country where cyclists try to take back their urban streets. I don't need to mention that those streets were never really made for bicyclist in the first place. So, what ensued was years of ill-feelings between motorists and these seemingly anarchistic folks on human powered machines. In fact, this political battle is still being waged out in many cities, even the ones that are "bike friendly".
Anyway, Hanoi is not one of these "bike friendly" cities. Not even close. Actually in the pavement food chain, those on bicycles are like plankton-insignificant fodder. Motorbikes are on the next rung up, then taxis, private cars, buses and then construction vehicles. As you can see, the bigger your mode of transportation the less respect you have on those smaller.
So, it's best to watch out, be defensive and literally "roll with it". That's what the original pioneers of LA's Midnight Ridazz did when they began their first-Friday bike rides. They started way after rush hour when the streets have died down of traffic and rode around for fun. The stops were either food or alcohol related. What began as a small group of close-knit friends grew to monthly rides averaging 1,000 people!
This is one of many things that I miss about LA. And that is why I started Hanoi's own Midnight Ridazz calling it Hanoi Ridazz-to have a fun time with friends riding around on our bikes. Here is a map of our first ride on March 12th, 2010:
This was also info on one side of the spoke card and this below was the info on the opposite side:
As you can see from the map the ride took us thru some of the more scenic highlights of Hanoi. We began at the Opera House then rode by the Lenin Statue and Flag Tower, by the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum, up to West Lake, next to the Citadel, thru the Old Quarter, around Hoan Kiem Lake twice and then down thru the center of town to Thien Quang Lake.
We stopped for "refreshments" twice-once on Truc Bac Lake and then at Thien Quang Lake. Actually it was a BYOB affair all provided by Luke and Kristi. While Luke drove his Big Dummy Extracycle, Kristi sat on the back passing out beers to everyone riding along with us and to a few motorbikers.
The night was cool and humid, and as we pedaled thru the streets we were warmed by the slight effort and by each others company. Here are shots of our crew that night on the initial Hanoi Ridazz ride.
Meeting in front of the Hanoi Opera House. This is Luke and his Extracycle.
Hien came kitted up in his roadie outfit and his very new Cannondale road bike.
Riding thru the streets with Kristi passing out beers. If you knew of the lawlessness here in Hanoi, drinking a beer while riding a bicycle is very tamed by comparison.
And, how about this for a motlie crew?
That's Erin, Mandy, Me, Wolfram and Andreas. And this is the entire group.
We plan to do this every second Friday of the month, so join us if you can.
The countryside however is teaming with motorbikes. Since public and private buses for the most part are on holiday too, it is much easier to take one’s motorbike home. Here is a little video I shot as my cousin and I were making our way to our hometown in the countryside west of Saigon. Notice the other newly urbanized Vietnamese also going back home loaded with gifts for their family.
This video is of us going further into the canals of the delta to a relative’s orchard for Tet lunch. My Aunt and Uncle are here with their two daughters, my cousins, and son in laws as well as their grandson. My Dad is here too.
All in all it was a very fun experience eating and visiting with my family. The last time I was in Vietnam for Tet was 1975.....It's been a long journey home!
This last video is of festive Saigon on the second night of Tet-the Year of the Tiger.
However last year was for all of us, may the New Year bring us all a new prosperity and find us in good health.
Tet is a very auspicious time for Vietnamese. This culture is steeped in superstition and reverence for the past, so a chance to do right and start anew is taken very seriously.
In preparing for the New Year, flowers and good luck ornaments cover the entire country, from city to countryside. Yellow flowers of Hoa Mai, cherry blossoms and kumquat trees are for sale everywhere. It is not just tradition to go out and look at these temporary orchards, but it is also mandatory to purchase one for decorating your house in welcoming good fortune for the New Year.
These are photos of the flower market in Da Nang. (I stopped off here and Hoi An on my way south to wish my friends a Happy New Year.)
Here is picture of my buddy Frank, a fellow Hanoian on vacation in the south, at the New Year Flower Festival in downtown Saigon, being like other Vietnamese celebrating the Year of the Tiger.
Another tradition. and a recent tradition at that, is making ones way home for Tet. What I mean by a recent one is that urbanization is a relatively new phenomenon for Vietnam. When I first came back 13 years ago, the population was 70% rural. Now it’s more like 40-50% urban. Check out how empty the streets of Saigon and Hanoi are during the week of Tet.
I was thinking that Saigon was the most livable I had ever seen it-hardly any traffic, you could stroll on the sidewalks and there was a cool breeze at night. The temperature was only hot enough to make it two-showers per day as opposed to four-showers during the summer.
Right before Tet, the Lunar New Year, a couple good friends organized an all day scavenger hunt, to get us all into the spirit of Tet. It was to be teams of two going around the city collecting pictures from a list that would prove difficult, to say the least. Only one team out of 40 completed the task with some shenangans.
We were to take a picture of a live tiger, to commemorate the Year of the Tiger. Since the event took place on the day when the Kitchen Gods give heaven reports of how good each and everyone of us were that past year, we had to document this as well. This came to form thru the burning of effigy or of the releasing of gold fish into a body of water. Also, we had to get a picture of Ong Do, a calligrapher, who this time of year is found all over the city painting black ink onto red canvases words of wisdom for the New Year. There was even a picture that we needed to take with a long haired Vietnamese man, a tourist, a shoe shine boy AND a girl on her Vespa. This was the hardest! But a few teams did manage, one by chance and one by pure group organizational skills. We had to translate a Vietnamese poem about the New Year and record a New Year story told by a native Hanoian. Here are couple of those pictures from our team, which was a threesome, made up of Kim-on the right, for the morning shift and Mandy for the afternoon trip. We decided to ride bikes the entire day.
This took us all over the city. Kim and I rode north over the Long Bien Bridge to look for a picture of Uncle Ho then we went west to the zoo to look for the tiger. But neither trips were successful so we had lunch with Daria, who was leaving for Switzerland-her home, for vacation. Next we rode over to the Temple of Literature for pictures of the Calligraphers. For the spirit of the Kitchen Gods we went back east to Hoan Kiem Lake. Then Kim had to head off for a work party and Mandy rode over to take her place. With Mandy, I rode all over the backpacking section of the Old Quarter looking for room 23, with no avail. Lastly, we heard that somewhere up north there is a place where lovers paint love notes to each other on a long stretch of wall overlooking West Lake. So, we circumnavigate the lake on our bikes in search of the most illusive point of interest on the list-an I love U stencil. But this too deemed too difficult. 20+ kilometers later we found ourselves at the closing party for this Maratet-marathon Tet, event.
In the end we had eight of the 11 tasks completed, rode 45 kilometers, drank about 4 cups of coffee at various places in the city, saw the zoo for the first time, rode over Long Bien Bridge for the first time and rode around West Lake for the first time....And yes! By the end I was looking forward to Tet-Vietnam's biggest holiday.
