A visit to Hiep’s water factory.

Hiep has been trying to get us to visit his factory for some time now. I was more than ready for a day out. Life in Vietnam can be a bit sedentary if you are not working and I am doing very little of anything. We called in to get the moto repaired on the way. The left turn indicator is not working again. I am not sure what they did last time, but it didn’t last. This time the switch was changed. Every time we visit this garage we come away with a different rattle. Perhaps it is time to try somewhere else.

We set off from the garage to a village with a roadside market, at least it had one last time we were here. The market has been replaced by a roundabout, a big one, but not that big. The market has been moved back a few yards. We took a right at the roundabout onto the road that leads towards the track for Hiep’s factory. I used to remember the turnoff, as it came just after 2 big dipper mounds in the dirt track road, but not anymore, the road is tarmaced and lovely to drive on. So much for remembering the turnoff, but we only went a few yards passed before Dung remembered. It is amazing the change in the road and how quick it has been done, for Vietnam. It is wide too. The local population usually do well out of this type of development, as the government buys up the land required for the road and usually gives a good price. Uncle Dang made a killing from this as he has land on the outskirts of HCMC where the price is very high. It allowed his wife to strut her stuff around the family in Duc Hoa when they visited. When we turned up she took the hump as she reckons Dung is now strutting her stuff and trying to upstage her, which is definitely not true, the difference now is that people make a fuss of Dung, because they haven’t seen her for a couple of years. Jealousy is rife in Vietnam, perhaps in the UK too and I just haven’t noticed. I only know of this in Vietnam, because they love to talk about anything and everything, so have had the dirt passed onto me. Anyway we turned off to Uncle Hiep’s land and even this road seems better. That may not be the case, as the last time we travelled this path it had rained a real Vietnamese rain and it was very slick and puddled. We got to Hiep’s and guess what, things have improved here too. Sim, Dung’s cousin, used to live here, but had to leave as Hiep was going to develop his factory and there used to be a bamboo bridge across the river that was less than complete and a lot less than flat. It rose from the dirt track and threw a couple of corkscrews in, before getting to the other side. It made the Big One at Blackpool look like a roundabout ride. There may be some blog writer’s license in that, but I definitely couldn’t ride the moto over it. Now there is a big concrete affair that looks very tame, at least until I got on the top and the drop on the other side is an abyss, more license, but going down is easy. I can handle this one easy..............ish.

Hiep has always had an interest in water for some reason and has always built water towers near his houses. (We have a bore down and a pump to suck the water up and then push it through one of Hiep’s water filters.) He used to advise people on water supply and fit these filters previously. He probably still does, but this factory is currently his baby. He has used some second hand materials in building it, new looking, but second hand. He has always considered himself a farmer and still does to some extent, which makes his achievements with the factory very admirable. Some of the equipment has come in from the U.K. and the States, which he is very proud of and quick to point out and the whole shooting match has been put together for around £20,000.

Hiep and Dung out back.

He had the water tested before starting and it was given a very good bill of health, saying it has some very good qualities, not found in a lot of water. This is dragging on a bit, so here’s the short story. Hiep has sunk a bore hole, 30 metres. He pumps the water up and filters it takes out the bad bits and adds some necessary bits, bottles it and sells it. Currently in big bottles for water coolers, homes etc, but soon to be small bottles too.

The big bottles are reused and gradually fade with use. Hiep saw how blue shrink wrap was put around the bottles to make them appear new, clean and more saleable. The machine to do this was too pricey, so he has fabricated his own. A trough, at the end of the conveyor, that has heated water and the heat from this shrinks the plastic to wrap the bottles, it is very clever and simple and more to Hiep’s liking, cheap. The business seems to be going well. He has a few workers and has hired Uncle Dang’s son to deliver water in his lorry. Vietnam is very family orientated, sometimes not for the best. Perhaps more of that later.

After we had the tour, we went out the back to what used to be Sim’s house. Hiep has turned it into his office and sleeping place for the security guard required at night. No difference to the UK then. It is all very clever and cheap. After a few pieces of water melon and some of Hiep’s cold water, although it is warming up, the power is off, and Hiep took us over to bat ca. He has a couple of nets in a stream that runs by the side of the factory and the river that runs along the front, hence the bridge. The net funnels fish into the end of the long contraption. When they are ready to take the fish, the net is blocked off, the end unzipped and the fish emptied into a bucket. There is a welcome extra today, a couple of snakes. Welcome that is to the Vietnamese, I wasn’t too bothered about them, only to look at. They are expensive and a delicacy. Most of the fish are very small, they certainly won’t be getting gutted. Auntie Trang cooks them in a sauce and they are delicious, thankfully we didn’t have the snake. It is usually served with ruou, a bit like peanuts are served with beer in the UK, only a little different, it is considered a drinking delicacy. 

Off with the good clothes and in to collect the fish.

The first catch of the first net.

After Hiep had emptied the nets, but before we ate the fish, Hiep was ordered off to cac rau, collect some vegetables. These aren’t farmed, they just grow wild, so I was co-opted to go along. I wasn’t a lot of help, I never know which ones are OK and which are too big, or too small, plus we had to negotiate the paddy field paths. 

The memorial

They don’t mix too well with my legs. Hiep helped me along when I looked like toppling into the paddy. Hiep has a lot of land around here, passed down through the family and he inherits the most, as the youngest has to look after the parents. A good 200 metres from the house, Hiep has constructed a memorial to the Viet Cong. His great granddad used to help them out and there were many hidden in these parts and so killed, hence the memorial. There are many bomb craters scattered around the land and neighbouring land. Not so visible, because of the undergrowth, but I had a look on Google Earth and they are visible there. 

The chau and the heron

His Granddad had his house blown up by the Americans/South Vietnamese, because he was suspected of being a Viet Cong sympathiser, probably more that suspected, but not proven. It wasn’t blown up until the family were all out one day. They came home to find it gone, or crumpled. It was quite a substantial building, but was replaced with a simpler nha la, which survived a long time or was successfully maintained for a long while, as Dung remembers spending time there. A lot of what we learned today, is new to Dung too. Hiep or his wife go out to the memorial everyday that they are here and light some josh sticks and a cigarette, that is left burning on the end of a old josh stick. It is in the middle of the paddy fields, so was not an easy task to build, not for me anyway. In true Vietnamese style, it wasn’t tidied up to any great extent, unused bags of gravel are just left to litter up the area. The Vietnamese outlook is very different, at times, to a UK outlook, probably because they are Vietnamese and we are not. Sometimes it is initially difficult to understand why some things are done the way they are, but with a little thought, it is usually very understandable. I do like the Vietnamese way of life in general, but don’t know if I am always up to it. I definitely can’t negotiate the land so well, but have grown to know how to handle the heat most of the time. Back to cac rau, I had to wait at the corner of one paddy field whilst Hiep went off to gather more vegetables, the terrain was not Gilbert friendly, so I wandered back a bit and did some snapping. This is what I consider very Vietnamese territory, paddy fields with a chau, water buffalo, wandering along the paths and a white egret, heron or stork in the background. It is probably the chau’s fault that I can’t negotiate the paddy paths. 

When we got back the ladies sorted out the veg and Hiep went off to empty the nets again. I was directed to a hammock. After the tasty fish, some more water melon, a sit in the hammocks and a chat, which included trying to get me into business, with, as I later found out, some dodgy information.  The power came back on, so we had another quick turn around the factory, this time with a working demonstration, then a bloke turned up with an electric welder to do some more fabricating of a bottle shelter on the outside of the factory. He and Hiep were using some dodgy platform to do the work. The legs were held in place with some bricks hammered into holes in the ground to keep them stable.

The sun was starting to set around the front of the factory, so we sat there, by the river, admiring the welder and Hiep’s work and passing on good advice. A family came along in a punt type boat. The mother was punting, rowing, the father had a battery and a couple of poles used to stun fish and he heaved them into the boat for the son to put them in a bucket. A real family affair and good a evening out on the river. There was some friendly banter with them, before they disappeared up river with some very sizeable fish. I wonder if they were bound for the market in the morning, giving the stunned fish time to recouperate.

 

Family evening out punting on the river

The troll guarding the bridge.

Time to hit the road home. This time I had to negotiate the steep part of the bridge first. Grave doubts were expressed by everyone of me taking the moto over, but I had secretly scouted it out before. It looks steeper from the head on angle, it wasn’t too bad and very wide, so I had no problem negotiating it. Dung didn’t fancy my chances, so she trotted up behind me in her high heels. There’s no telling this lady. I wonder if she would have saved me or the moto, if I had been over confident in my abilities. We set off on an uneventful trip home, no sudden stops for roadside food or detours to visit aunties. What I thought would be a bit of a boring day turned out to be very enjoyable and informative, if we miss out the business talk bit. It is easy to imagine the troubles between the Viet Minh/Cong and the French and Yanks as we drive through the countryside and difficult to see how the Viet Cong survived the barrage. I should  read some more about it. You never know, one day.........

Home, cold shower and a cup of tea, well pot of tea, the cups are very little. It may or may not surprise you to know that I had a piece of cake with the tea.