4th November 2010 – it’s a long journey, but we were met by some of Dung’s family at the airport in a minibus.
I never knew there is an hour difference between Malaysia and Vietnam, so we arrived about an hour before we were expected, but by the time we came out the minibus had arrived, Nu, Dung’s Mam, would have been getting them shifted early, she never slept last night, she’s been getting more and more excited as our arrival neared. We came out and everyone was calling me fat, at least those that came to meet us. Nu checked out my arms , squeezing them as I gave her a hug, I believe this is an obligatory thing to do for old fashioned Vietnamese, to see how much meat you have on your bones. They were all very excited and chatty, except Luan, the brother-in-law who wandered off with the trolley, he doesn’t like too much fuss and being of a similar vein/vane/vain, I joined him. He’s a good lad, a little bit shy, but handsome, judging by the way the women check him out and chat to him.
We piled into the minibus and headed off. Luan headed off on the moto, I think he preferred it that way, he was a little under the weather due to self inflicted injury from a bottle of ruou (rice wine), I suspect. He was ordered to pick up some chom chom (rambutan) on the way home and so duly did so, but he got grief for picking some that also had a hangover, at least they looked that way. He got the order because I said they were one of my favourite fruits of Vietnam in some dark, distant, past moment.
It was good to drive through Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC), I think I had started to take it for granted before, but now it is good to be back and see the very Vietnamese looking streets and traffic. Moto crazy city, it should be called, although there are more cars than I noticed last time. Since we left a few people have said that HCMC has more cars than Hanoi, so I checked it out and they may be right, but I am not sure.
We came back along a road that was a nightmare to drive on the moto, but the ever present roadworks are no longer, so this may be the way to go to HCMC in the future.
Unloaded from the minibus and a flood of visitors came in to greet us, Dung was ripping the luggage open to dish out the presents, trashing the bedroom in the process, for a lass who didn’t want to come back, she if very excited, it is good to see. At one time I think she spoke for about 20 minutes without taking a breath. Nu is very casual about it all, but her eyes are sparkling with happiness. Binh’s eyes were sparkling at the airport, but that was because he was crying, he’s a soft arse. I think he was one of the milder Viet Cong.
All the rooms in the house seemed to be bristling with visitors, so I took a seat out on the veranda, it is all too much attention for me after a long haul. I didn’t get to sit alone for long, the terrible identical twins, Y and Huyen came to give me some company. Today Huyen is good cop and Y is bad cop, I think these are the roles they prefer. I do like them, but they know how to wear out their welcome fast, most days. They were good company today, giving me kisses and cuddles every so often, Y did start off though by digging her nails into my arms, I think she is the bugger of the pair, although little bugger is a good description for each of them.
Auntie Thuong had stayed at home to cook chau ga, a chicken broth, sort of porridge with rice and chicken being the main ingredients. It is traditional to have chau when someone comes back home, but I don’t know why yet. There was binh chanh too, roll your own rice paper spring rolls, with pork and different herbs and veg to roll into them. It was all very delicious and not a glass or ruou in sight.
Auntie Thuong made a brief sortie out of the kitchen to give us a big smile and welcome, then she was back to business, she did get plenty of company not too far down the line as the natter moved around the house and she was involved in the hours of chat around the luggage.
The food is very good here, super tasty.
After some food and a shower, we went off on the customary visits to the uncles and aunties in the local group of houses, although they are very loosely grouped. First to see the paternal grandparents, Granddad is confined to a bed unless somebody transfers him to his wheelchair for a trip out, he’s had a stroke, about 4 years ago. Next up was Co Tu, Auntie number 4, she has had a new house built since we were here last and is very proud of it, dragging me around to see it, she has also been blessed with a grandson since we left, although it is with her giang ho ( the dictionary says it means errant) son, he’s not too bad a lad, but needs to get responsible now he is a husband and Dad. She used to live in a palm leaf thatched house, it did the job, but this does it better. Her and her husband sell Hu Tieu on the afternoon market. Hu Tieu is a noodle broth come soup with pork, lumps of congealed blood and other bits and pieces in and it is delicious. They prepare it in the morning, then hook up the cart to the moto early afternoon and head for the market. They work hard. Duong Ba, Uncle number 3, was the next stop, he was leathered on ruou and pulled out a couple of cans of beer, he wouldn’t take no for an answer and I obliged with drinking one and it was very welcome too. The Number 3’s have had a new house built too, since we were last here, it is very typical Vietnamese, very practical and simple. They have 3 bedrooms, one for each son and Uncle sleeps on the floor in the front room and auntie in the kitchen, on the floor, except for moments of passion, I guess. Uncle Number 3 is the bloke I probably get along with best, he’s loud when he’s had a few, but it is easy to relax with him, drunk or not and he tries to help me all the time, but I got it across that sometimes it is best not to be hanging onto my arm. I managed to get Duong Ba not to give me anymore beer and we set off to our last visit, his daughters, he was going to bed, but changed his mind and picked up the beers, deciding to come with us, OH OH. His son-in-law doesn’t drink or smoke, which was a blessing in disguise, he was an ally in my fight not to drink anymore. I’ll have a session one day, when it all comes together. Dung disappeared into the back of the house to stop being mythered by Uncle 3 to translate for him. Xim and Thieng, the couple we are visiting had to leave their last house, which went with the land they were working. This is their new place, built on uncle Dang’s land, next to uncle Dung’s pond and across from our house. It’s not much to look at but the Vietnamese can make the best of a bad job and this is certainly better than their last place, which uncle Hiep took back. Happy families.
And so home, well and truely knackered. I’ll sleep well tonight.
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