Sunday, January 10, 2010
Closing a Chapter
It is nearly over, this fantastic chapter of our lives. We have been in Vietnam for nearly two and a half years and have so many memories to take home with us. We have made friends here, had to say goodbye to some along the way, but they all will remain in out hearts and memories.
We have been so lucky to be able to share some of our experience with visitors from home, giving them a glimpse of our life here. It certainly is different to home and I liken domestic life to living in a caravan, things made simpler while still having a few creature comforts.
It is hard to think of a highlight of our time here, there are so many. James would have to say golf in Dalat. It is a beautiful town, in the central highlands, with a golf course first marked out by the emperor in the 1922. He had a game here with our friend Darryl, so that makes it memorable. His second favourite course is Phoenix, where the course winds through huge limestone casts, a little like Halong Bay on land.
For me, it would have to be Sapa, a place so diverse from the rest of the country. My first visit there was by myself, a trip up from Ho Chi Minh City. Being in the mountains it is cooler and from early evening a fine misty cloud hangs in the air. Traveling around on the back of a bike, the terraced rice fields march up hills, buffalo wallow in the mud, girls wash their long black hair in mountain streams, it is all so beautiful. Simple plank houses, stained black, with rammed mud floors and a fire pit in the centre of the room. This is primitive life but the dirty faces of the kids smile back with contented happiness.
The kids here, like kids all over the world, are delightful. They are indulged a bit, but mostly with love, not material possessions. I am amazed at how still they sit on motorbikes, no impatient fiddling. But then, sometimes they are wedged so tightly between two parents. Other times they sit in front, their heads resting on the handlebars as they doze off to sleep. The kids lucky enough to travel by car, do so unrestrained, often bouncing on seats or holding on to the dashboard.
I have fallen in love with the kids at school and that parting is going to be hard. I would like to have the chance to see them grow into young adults and take on that same happy disposition that all Vietnamese seem to have. There is a calm about the people here, nothing is done in a rush (which can be frustrating if you are walking behind then) and there is an expectation that everything will work out. Forward planning is a concept for the west.
There are lots of things we will miss. Apart from the obvious friends and students, we will miss the relaxed lifestyle, the very low cost of living, eating out every day. There will be good things about being back in Australia, apart from the obvious family and friends. It will be nice to be able to take a drink of water at the kitchen sink, not have to climb a flight of stairs when weary and ready for bed, not to have to climb four flights of stairs to see if the washing is dry, to only have one key to open the house, to not have to take your shoes off at the door because you are not sure what you have stepped in on the way home. I will miss going to the supermarket and having people dipping in to the trolley to see what Westerners buy. I will miss having "straight from the garden" fresh vegetables every day, I will miss waking to hear roosters, knowing that chickens are laying eggs in the gardens and those eggs will be for sale that day. I will miss standing on the roof top and gazing out over houses so tightly packed together that you can't see alleys or roads. I will miss the funny things you see on the street, the lady in her shower cap sitting on a little blue stool selling tea and coffee to construction workers. Funny things like a motor bike laden with bags of cement and a little man sitting on top of those bags, hanging on as the bike weaves through the traffic. I will miss the concerts put on by the two little girls who live next door, in the evening, while I sit on the step and they sing and dance to traditional Vietnamese songs.
Hanoi has given us a different pace to Ho Chi Minh City. The traffic is still wild but the Old Quarter takes you back in time. Especially if you look up, past the modern shop front facade of the narrow tube houses, to the canter-leaver balconies added on for extra living space, pot plants balanced on grated window sills. Washing drying and cooking pots hung on hooks just outside the window, easily reached when needed. Trees shelter the edge of Hoan Kiem Lake and the path around it leads to locals enjoying the company of friends as they sit and chat. The path seems quiet, dull to the noise of traffic which follows the circular road, but rich in the laughter of children who gather around the ice-cream shops.
So different to Ho Chi Minh City, which could be a big city in any Asian country. The western influence here is so much stronger, less trees, wider roads and shops with much less character. The market is more foreigner friendly, with jovial banter from the sellers and the chance to have some fun determining a price. It is easier in this city to escape to a bit of the sophistication of the west, department stores and restaurants that could come from home. Party time seemed a bit easier here, a different circle of friends perhaps.
It has all been good. Like reading a good book then going to the bookshop to find another by the same author, we will revisit this country. When and for how long is the unwritten bit.
We have been so lucky to be able to share some of our experience with visitors from home, giving them a glimpse of our life here. It certainly is different to home and I liken domestic life to living in a caravan, things made simpler while still having a few creature comforts.
It is hard to think of a highlight of our time here, there are so many. James would have to say golf in Dalat. It is a beautiful town, in the central highlands, with a golf course first marked out by the emperor in the 1922. He had a game here with our friend Darryl, so that makes it memorable. His second favourite course is Phoenix, where the course winds through huge limestone casts, a little like Halong Bay on land.
For me, it would have to be Sapa, a place so diverse from the rest of the country. My first visit there was by myself, a trip up from Ho Chi Minh City. Being in the mountains it is cooler and from early evening a fine misty cloud hangs in the air. Traveling around on the back of a bike, the terraced rice fields march up hills, buffalo wallow in the mud, girls wash their long black hair in mountain streams, it is all so beautiful. Simple plank houses, stained black, with rammed mud floors and a fire pit in the centre of the room. This is primitive life but the dirty faces of the kids smile back with contented happiness.
The kids here, like kids all over the world, are delightful. They are indulged a bit, but mostly with love, not material possessions. I am amazed at how still they sit on motorbikes, no impatient fiddling. But then, sometimes they are wedged so tightly between two parents. Other times they sit in front, their heads resting on the handlebars as they doze off to sleep. The kids lucky enough to travel by car, do so unrestrained, often bouncing on seats or holding on to the dashboard.
I have fallen in love with the kids at school and that parting is going to be hard. I would like to have the chance to see them grow into young adults and take on that same happy disposition that all Vietnamese seem to have. There is a calm about the people here, nothing is done in a rush (which can be frustrating if you are walking behind then) and there is an expectation that everything will work out. Forward planning is a concept for the west.
There are lots of things we will miss. Apart from the obvious friends and students, we will miss the relaxed lifestyle, the very low cost of living, eating out every day. There will be good things about being back in Australia, apart from the obvious family and friends. It will be nice to be able to take a drink of water at the kitchen sink, not have to climb a flight of stairs when weary and ready for bed, not to have to climb four flights of stairs to see if the washing is dry, to only have one key to open the house, to not have to take your shoes off at the door because you are not sure what you have stepped in on the way home. I will miss going to the supermarket and having people dipping in to the trolley to see what Westerners buy. I will miss having "straight from the garden" fresh vegetables every day, I will miss waking to hear roosters, knowing that chickens are laying eggs in the gardens and those eggs will be for sale that day. I will miss standing on the roof top and gazing out over houses so tightly packed together that you can't see alleys or roads. I will miss the funny things you see on the street, the lady in her shower cap sitting on a little blue stool selling tea and coffee to construction workers. Funny things like a motor bike laden with bags of cement and a little man sitting on top of those bags, hanging on as the bike weaves through the traffic. I will miss the concerts put on by the two little girls who live next door, in the evening, while I sit on the step and they sing and dance to traditional Vietnamese songs.
Hanoi has given us a different pace to Ho Chi Minh City. The traffic is still wild but the Old Quarter takes you back in time. Especially if you look up, past the modern shop front facade of the narrow tube houses, to the canter-leaver balconies added on for extra living space, pot plants balanced on grated window sills. Washing drying and cooking pots hung on hooks just outside the window, easily reached when needed. Trees shelter the edge of Hoan Kiem Lake and the path around it leads to locals enjoying the company of friends as they sit and chat. The path seems quiet, dull to the noise of traffic which follows the circular road, but rich in the laughter of children who gather around the ice-cream shops.
So different to Ho Chi Minh City, which could be a big city in any Asian country. The western influence here is so much stronger, less trees, wider roads and shops with much less character. The market is more foreigner friendly, with jovial banter from the sellers and the chance to have some fun determining a price. It is easier in this city to escape to a bit of the sophistication of the west, department stores and restaurants that could come from home. Party time seemed a bit easier here, a different circle of friends perhaps.
It has all been good. Like reading a good book then going to the bookshop to find another by the same author, we will revisit this country. When and for how long is the unwritten bit.
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