January 2nd 2012: Cycling in Hoi An

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Bike Ride – in the rain! It was a great day and good to get out and away from the shops and noise and bustle of town.  It was my first opportunity since Yok Don.  It was very wet, at least to start off with, and after an early breakfast at Bobo’s we arrived at “Love for Life” Cycle Tours where Vinh was waiting for us.  Our bikes were all ready – Built-for-comfort seats, single gears with a large basket on the front complete with bottle of water and rain capes of various pastel colours!  We had a few moments sorting out the bikes, making sure the seat heights were correct and laughing at how ridiculous we looked in the capes before setting off!  It was pretty unnerving, to start off with, cycling through the streets with motorbikes zipping in front of us, and more alarmingly coming towards us, cars tooting at us to move over and trying to avoid the pedestrians who were walking on the road because the footpaths were blocked with motorbikes!  We made our way nervously to our first stop; a pagoda which Vinh says is less beautiful now because of the recent floods. I think the floods have washed a lot of rubbish into the courtyards, lakes and ponds and there has not yet been an efficient clean-up operation, if indeed, there ever will be.  However, the splendour of the temple is still there; the mosaics and tiling are beautiful and Vinh told us some of the cultural and historical background.  This was a temple dedicated to Confucius and his philosophy is based on four facets of learning which he believed formed the basis for being a good, well-balanced person; Music, Painting, Chess and Poetry.   All children learn to play a musical instrument or sing.  Confucius says that this gives people an understanding of beauty, rhythm and balance as well as exercising the brain and coordination.  Chess enables people to learn strategies that will help them to plan their lives and be successful. Painting develops coordination and an appreciation of beauty and colour, but this also involves writing and reading as the characters of the language are learned and practised.  Studying poetry gives a person a broader understanding of life and an appreciation of language.  It also gives you something to talk about and conversation is seen as an important part of life.

There is a large mosaic panel at the entrance to the temple which is very beautiful – I am a bit of a sucker for mosaics though, I remember taking lots of pictures of the tiled walls in Samarkand!   This one has a paintbrush on one side and a sword on the other – this symbolises the two aspects that all men should develop to be balanced and to be good men.  The paintbrush signifies understanding, appreciation of life and beauty and the sword signifies strength and the ability to protect the family.  All boys learn Kung Fu for at ;least part of their lives.  Vinh said that one of his brothers has been practising King Fu for a long time  and is now a White Belt (traditionally the highest level you can reach), another brother practised it for five years but Vinh said he was not very good at it so he gave up once he had learned the basics.  He explained that the fact that all boys learn Kung Fu and the art and discipline of fighting is the reason why the Vietnamese have never been defeated in war.

He also talked about the traditional roles of men and women in society.  in the past only men had formal education although women would also learn music and dancing. Women’s main role was to look after the family and specifically the men.  Their mothers would teach them to cook and to sew and to keep house.  When they married they would go to live with their husband’s family and would be expected to prepare the food.  They were expected to look after their husband’s needs and also those of their Father-in-Law.  If they weren’t good enough the family would throw them out.  If that happened they would also be shunned by their own family as they would have brought shame on the family.  Sounds like a hard life to me, not sure I would have passed!

Back on our bikes and on through some narrow back alleys which gave us a glimpse of some different areas of Hoi An, bigger, more modern houses with large gardens. The French colonial influence was still there with ironwork balconies and the walls painted the traditional orangey-yellow that we had seen in the old part of the town. We then stopped at a Buddhist temple where Vinh talked about Buddhist philosophy.  The Wheel of Life, what goes around comes around , what you do in this life has an impact on what will happen to you in the next life.  Meditation is essential to be a calm and thoughtful person; you need to clear your mind and banish evil thoughts from corrupting you.  I can’t remember everything that Vinh said but he commented on the fact that the pagodas have odd numbers of tiers which reminded me of what Vu told us about the Ede and their superstitions – odd numbers for the living and even for the dead.  Often there are three tiers with a Buddha in each one – one for the past, one for the future and one for the future.  Everything you do goes through the Buddhas. What happens in the past has an impact on your present life which in turn has an impact on the future.  He also talked about the symbol of the Swastika.  I already had some notion that this was an ancient symbol that the Nazis had misappropriated.  Apparently, it is the symbol of the God of Fire who lives in the Himalaya.  The God of Fire gives power to cleanse and fight off evil.  Once again the temple was beautifully decorated with colourful  mosaics, intricate carvings, flowers and gardens.  The temples really are oases in the greyness and the poverty we see around and about.  Having said that, the people around Hoi An do appear to be more affluent that what we have seen elsewhere – their houses are bigger and more solid, their gardens are well-stocked with vegetables and they are all serviced with piped water and electricity.  I guess they reap the benefits that tourism brings with the USD.

After that we spent more time on the bikes.  We cycled along the paddy fields where the ground is being prepared for sowing.  The fields were full of men and women flattening the soils so that they can sow the seeds.  They use water buffalo for ploughing the wet soil beforehand but otherwise everything is done by hand and the tools they use, as in Cambodia, look like the sort of thing used in the 18C here in NZ .  We could see which fields had been seeded and which were still waiting.  We also saw women knee deep in water transplanting the seedlings. I still don’t have a clear understanding of the process but it certainly looks like back-breaking work using primitive tools. This is mass production using mass labour – no machines, and I will definitely appreciate my rice more in the future.

We rode on through country lanes where the houses lining the lanes were filled with small trees in clay pots. Vinh explained that these were Kumquat trees which are grown especially to be shipped around Vietnam to the wealthy people who prize them as ornamental trees for Chinese New Year.  They grow well in this region and are certainly very striking with their bright orange fruit.  There were also row upon row of salad leaves, carrots, beans, peas, tomatoes, and flowers all grown organically and tended by hand.  By now the workers in their rice paddy hats were familiar sights and no longer the novelty they were when we first saw them.  These people lived in poorer dwellings but their market gardens were immaculate and they seemed to take so much pride in them.

Vinh told us the story of the Betel Nut tree and why the older generation chew the Betel nuts.  Of course, it is a love story; a young married couple lived in a house in the village.  One day the husband and his brother went off into the forest to hunt. They were away a long time and the wife started to worry.  Somehow the two men became separated but managed to make their way back to the village.  The brother arrived back first and believing that his brother was dead, told the wife who embraced him in grief, but was thankful that at least one of the brothers was alive.  At this point the husband emerged from the forest and seeing his wife embracing his brother was heartbroken and fled back into the forest. The younger brother decided that he needed to go back into the forest to search of his brother and so set off the next day. The older brother, in his grief had walked a long time until he came to a waterfall and sat down next to it to rest. He was so exhausted that he fell asleep and died and his body turned into a limestone boulder.  The younger brother walked and walked searching for his brother.  he too came to the waterfall and finding the boulder sat down on it and, exhausted, he fell asleep. He too died in his grief for his brother and his body turned into a tall Betel Nut Tree.  After a while the young wife could no longer bear waiting and so she went looking for her husband and his brother in the forest. She walked and walked until she came, exhausted to the waterfall where she sat down on the boulder under the shade of the Betel Nut tree.  She too fell asleep and died with her heart-broken.  Her body turned into a beautiful Bougainvillae flower that grew and entwined itself around the boulder and the Betel nut tree.  So the three were reunited.  Vietnamese people chew the nut wrapped in the leaves and the redness that comes out is said to be the lifeblood of the these three.  The red of the Bougainvillea is the same as the redness produced when the Betel nut is chewed and is used  at weddings to symbolise unity.

The next stop on our journey was Cua Dai beach – we were very excited by the sea. Well I was – another expanse of water that I can say I have paddled in – the South China Sea!  We had a drink and a snack there – some delicious roasted peanuts which were incredibly moorish! It is a beautiful golden  sandy beach – according to Vinh it is one of the top ten beaches in the world although I can find no evidence of it on the internet!  Nevertheless, despite the cloudy, damp weather it was a stunning beach and the crashing waves made it even more dramatic.  We were amazed to see people out fishing in the tiny coracles, being tossed about on the waves. The sea was not violent but there was a pretty good swell. I couldn’t resist beach combing and spent a happy half hour walking up and down the beach, head down, scanning the sand for shells.  Nor could I resist putting my feet in the sea and I was soon joined by half the team and we shrieked excitedly as the waves washed over our feet and up to our knees.  There are strict rules governing how deep Challengers are allowed to go in water but there was no danger of us infringing those rules! Going back to the coracles – these are small round vessels made of bamboo and coated with resin from the trees to make them waterproof.  They have a very pleasing shape and are usually used for inshore and river fishing as they are pretty small. They have bigger boats for going further out to sea.  Earlier on by the river we had seen the fishermen mending their nets and greasing the boats in readiness for putting out to sea.  This is an area where the people live off the land and off the sea – a simple life but threatened by progress and the temptations of the consumer society.   You have to wonder what real benefits tourism brings to this sort of community.  Once again, I reflect on the impact that the European colonists had around the world in their bid to “tame the savages” bringing Christianity to “save their souls”.  Is tourism the new Christianity?

We spent a good half an hour at the beach before pedalling onwards. It was very peaceful winding through the lanes, along the river and then past the shrimp farms.  We had a bit of excitement here negotiating the mud and had to get off and push a few times.  Morgan and Caitlin both keeled over as their wheels ground to a halt in the mud and they lost momentum!  Covered in mud they cycled valiantly on. I really enjoyed the serenity of the countryside here, we cycled on raised dykes between the flooded paddy fields and shrimp farms.  We were only a couple of kilometres outside Hoi An but it seemed like we were in the middle of nowhere.  Lunch was back in Hoi An, at a restaurant probably owned by a cousin of Vinh’s.  It was delicious; another make your own spring roll place but the meat was scrumptious – freshly cooked spicy pork on a barbecue with a chilli sauce. There were also little pancake type things that went with the rice paper rolls.  There was more than enough food and we all ate our fill and probably more! With our bellies full to bursting we clambered back on to our bikes and navigated our way back to the Love of Life office.  Vinh checked where the boat was before we cycled the last leg to the river front.  This was stressful as the group ended up being split up – it was very difficult staying together in the middle of the town trying to dodge motorbikes, cars, motorbikes and pedestrians.  A couple of the less confident girls found it quite intimidating.  I tried to keep them in front of me but as close to the  group in front as possible so we didn’t get even more split up and in my anxiety I was probably quite terse as I shouted at them to ride faster!  In retrospect, not the best way to handle the situation.  In the end we stopped and regrouped , confident that Vinh would come back to find us.  He did, and we continued on, a little more slowly.  Originally we had had another guide with us but Lachlan had a puncture and , since surprisingly, they didn’t carry a repair kit or spare tubes, he had to go back to fix the bike, leaving his for Lachlan to ride.  Having a backmarker would have reduced our anxiety riding through the streets but we survived and made it to the boat, some a little tearful but no lasting damage!

On the boat we had a good hour and a half to relax, look around at the other boats on the river and the islands. We all had a turn at “driving” (do you drive a boat or is there another word?)  which was fun, as our guide sat cross-legged at the side keeping a watchful eye that we didn’t run his pride and joy aground or into another craft.  We sailed up the river then down an inlet and back to the main river; we watched as fishermen cast their nets and waved at other people on the river. It really was a lovely way to end the day.  The evening was spent on last minute dress fittings, shopping and, of course, eating!  Cafe 43 had been recommended by Vinh and was also in the LP guide so we headed there.  It was hidden away down a back street, not the most salubrious of places but the food was delicious, cheap and the people there were very friendly.

Back at the hotel, Dung and Van were waiting for us as arranged and soon we were on our way back to Danang Railway Station.  Another long train journey!