Exploring country life in the Red River Delta

Most visitors to Vietnam spend time in Hanoi, epicenter of the Red River Delta. Far fewer visitors venture outside the city and into the surrounding countryside of the delta where eighty percent of the region's people live in relatively traditional and agrarian communities. To experience the Red River Delta fully, one should explore the rice paddies and villages that are the bedrock of this remarkable region.

Country Life in the Red River Delta (The Gioi, 1997) provides an in-depth overview of the area and is a useful reference for those with an interest in the delta. The 122-page softcover book is broken into text and photo sections covering all aspects of rural life. More encyclopedia than guidebook, the book strives to introduce foreign readers and visitors to the Red River Delta. The people consider this region to be the cultural and historical heartland of their nation, not to mention its breadbasket and political center.

Where Black Tigers and Wild Elephants Once Roamed

On the very first pages of the book, the authors explain that the Red River Delta is one of the two largest deltas in the country, the other being the Mekong River's in the south. The Red River Delta began to take its present form a mere 4,000 years ago--a microsecond in geologic time--when silt began to collect at the mouths of the Red and Thai Binh Rivers. The process continues today and in an example of the often astonishing details that pepper the book, the authors note that in some spots, the coast extends by an astonishing 100 meters a year. Today some fifteen million people inhabit the region, which is one of the highest population densities in the world.

Somewhat wistfully, the authors note that the delta has lost virtually all of its wild space. Over centuries, the entire area has been painstakingly and laboriously sculpted by man into a patchwork of rice paddies bordered by dikes and crisscrossed by canals. The authors explain how dense wilderness once covered the delta and that in the eleventh century, King Ly went elephant hunting near what is now Hanoi's West Lake. As late as the Tran Dynasty (1226-1400), black tigers still roamed the capital, but today the only hints of the delta's former wilderness appear in geographic names. The words "lam" and "rung," which both mean "forest," frequently appear in place names. There is the Gia Lam district, for example, and the Rung village, Rung River and Rung market.

"However limpid or muddy it might be, the native village pond is the best." -- Red River Delta proverb

Country Life in the Red River Delta provides a wealth of information that will help the traveler interpret what he or she is seeing. For example, the authors explain that historically the Red River Delta supported a large number of skilled craftsmen due to the fact that the annual rice-growing cycle featured a period where farmers left the land fallow, thus freeing them to pursue other ventures. Villages specialized in a variety of crafts that ranged from the making of conical 'non' hats to the production of lacquerware and this tradition continues to the present day. Bat Trang, a community near Hanoi that specializes in ceramics, remains one of the most famous of these villages.

Much of the book is devoted to explicating the villages of the delta. The authors emphasize that life in the region has always revolved around the small agrarian communities where so much of the population lives, works and dies. The traditional village, now idealized by the Vietnamese in the same way that Americans romanticize small-town USA, typically consisted of a small community surrounded by rice paddies. A bamboo hedge and moat enclosed the village and inside this protective girdle lay the community's homes, pagodas and communal buildings. Many of the book's photographs portray these aspects of the traditional village.

"Crabs and Snails Fishing" and "New-Age Wedding"

Over a hundred color and black-and-white photos fill the second half of the book. Reproduced on roomy 8 by 11½-inch pages, these pictures comprise a fascinating photomontage that is like a traveler's slideshow. They offer a complete overview of life in the delta, picturing everything from rice planting to funerals, folk festivals to Catholic Church ceremonies. The pictures are a good source of inspiration for exploring off the beaten track, since they reveal little known but intriguing sights to visit. A good example is the roofed bridge of Quan Anh, which is their version of the New England covered bridge. The captions have their quirky moments, too. One reads "crabs and snails fishing," which does not exactly provide an accurate sense of the picture. Another photo is labeled "new-aged wedding." Rather than something involving crystals and pyramid power, however, the picture features a bride and groom in western-style gown and tuxedo.

It is clear that the authors of the book love the Red River Delta landscape and its people. However, they aren't afraid to mention the negatives. They note that gambling, drugs and "superstitious beliefs" still plague the delta. And while the free-market 'doi moi' policies of the government have brought newfound prosperity to the region, they have also eroded the positive aspects of traditional culture and led to the "unconditional pursuit of money and unsuitable lifestyles under alien influence." But the delta has always balanced old and new, foreign and Vietnamese, traditional and radical. Consequently, the authors do not doubt that the delta's unique culture will persevere and its people prosper.

Like any good reference book, Country Life in the Red River Delta caters to all interests. This book has pages for the meteorologist, the geologist, the anthropologist, the military historian, the backpacker, the tour guide and the armchair traveler. Like the delta region itself, this book truly offers something for everyone.

(Source: http://www.thingsasian.com) Poster by: Vietnam tours

A Guide to the Countryside: The Traditional Village in Vietnam

Most travelers to Vietnam inevitably start with either Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City) or Hanoi. Truthfully, it would make more sense to start with a tiny village in the Vietnamese hinterland and then work your way up to a big city. Most of Vietnam is small, agrarian communities, after all. Unfortunately, the nature of international travel, with its reliance on jumbo jets and airports, makes such a modest start to Vietnam impossible. You cannot avoid spending time in Saigon and Hanoi and getting out to the countryside requires a bit more effort. The effort is well worth it, however, and you should make sure you spend at least some of your trip in a traditional Vietnamese village. If Saigon is the heart of Vietnam, and Hanoi the brain, then the villages are the cells that make up the rest of the national body.

When you head out into the Vietnamese countryside take along The Traditional Village in Vietnam for background information. This book from The Gioi Publishers of Hanoi is a detailed study of various aspects of the Vietnamese village by those who know it best: Vietnamese scholars. The basic premise of the book is that without a working knowledge of the Vietnamese village one can never understand the nation as a whole.

The Traditional Village in Vietnam is not a traveler's guidebook. Rather it is a collection of academic papers written by scholars from the University of Hanoi and elsewhere. Originally published in the quarterly journal Vietnamese Studies, these papers cover a diverse selection of topics, all related to village life. Subjects range from how to build a traditional village home--complete with architectural schematics--to the price of buying village titles before 1945. In Thuong Son, for example, you would have paid ten piastres to be a "literature official" and seventy piastres to be "honorable."

Opening this book is like lifting the lid off a treasure chest full of obscure but fascinating details. For example, we learn that if a woman married a man from outside her village, then tradition dictated that the groom donate a preset amount of bricks to pave the village lanes. Many villages once paved their thoroughfares exclusively through this community marriage tax. In at least one village, however, if a woman married a man from within the village then the groom had to give the village the fixings for a celebration: one piastre, a tray of sticky rice, a chicken, two bottles of alcohol, and 100 betel nuts. Did you know that "needling the rice sacks" is an old folk saying that means, roughly, to stir up trouble? Perhaps the greatest surprise in The Traditional Village in Vietnam is the occasional authentic Vietnamese insect squashed flat between the pages like a pressed flower.

Of particular interest is Huy Vu's paper on the Ha Nam area. Ha Nam is a remote region north of Haiphong that still retains much of its traditional village flavor. For those travelers who want to get off of the beaten track and explore isolated communities, Ha Nam might be the place to do it. Huy Vu's paper will provide the historical background you need before setting out on such an expedition. But you needn't go as far afield as Ha Nam. Village life begins just beyond the Saigon and Hanoi city limits. Pack The Traditional Village in Vietnam into your bag and jump aboard the nearest outbound bus. The villages of Vietnam await.

Poster by: Vietnam tours

Deeper into the Mekong River Delta

Is there anywhere on planet Earth that so teems with life and industry as the Mekong Delta? Anywhere where agriculture and fish farming are so intensively practiced? In thinking that one day I'll come back here and find multi-storey rice paddies stretching to the horizon, I suspect I'm only partially dreaming.

Not for nothing has the delta of the Mekong River been termed the "rice bowl of the Universe". Six countries and well over fifty million people depend upon the Mekong for their very livelihood. And in no country is this dependence so profound as in Vietnam.

Flying into Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) gives as good an introduction as any to the wonders of the Mekong. From the air the landscape resembles an intricate anatomical chart, only in shades of green and brown rather than white and red. Every tributary of the Mekong River bifurcates, then trifurcates and multifurcates into thousands of veins, arteries and capillaries. Then, linking this vast drainage network are hundreds of manmade canals, giving the countryside the appearance of an Eastern Venice.

"Getting out into the Delta" makes for a popular day trip from Saigon. Some visitors go further afield, to the provincial capital of Can Tho - and fewer still to the city of Chau Doc, near the Cambodia-Vietnam border. But until very recently (early 2001) it was impossible for foreigners to go by river across the Cambodian border.

Now, all this has changed. The Victoria Sprite and her larger sister vessel the Victoria Princess, for the very first time, offer a river service from Saigon all the way to the Cambodian capital Phnom Penh. No doubt whatsoever, this trip is destined to become one of the world's great river journeys.

As with any new venture, the Victoria boat service is still getting its scheduling in order. So on this occasion I get to travel by road from Saigon, to join the boat at Chau Doc. The road trip provides another take on Mekong life, which from any perspective is fascinating in its ever-changing variety.

We take the near-empty Saigon Parkway, a multi-lane freeway leading from nowhere to not-anywhere - or more precisely to the new satellite city of Saigon South, with its Saigon Wonderland amusement park, Korean-Japanese School and executive golf course. I'm wondering whether this is still Vietnam, or whether perchance we have suddenly been teleported to another planet.

Then, abruptly, we hit the main road to My Tho. Here, near the Mekong's ocean outfall, the river-drenched plains are hugely fertile. Women stand chest-deep in the water, planting rice. Ducks swarm in their thousands. Barely a square millimetre of potential cropland is wasted.

Religion is big time in this region. The indigenous Cao Dai sect, with its strange "revelation through séance" philosophy, has impressive temples in Bén Lúc and Long An, their near-psychedelic murals inviting inspection. The priest at the Bén Lúc temple is welcoming and obliging, showing us some of the pantheon of French and Chinese saints that adorn the eclectic interior. To the uninitiated, Cao Dai seems to be either a religion for the future or a belief system from another planet.

Through My Tho (the furthest that the vast majority of travellers venture), both the riverboats and road traffic head on through the impressive city of Vinh Long. From here, paths diverge slightly. The Victoria riverboats take a through channel to Can Tho. However, we decide to take a shortcut through to Sa Dec, on the Hau Giang arm of the Mekong.

The horizon around the riverine settlement of Lo Gach is a sky-sea of brick-kiln chimneys, their belching fumes turning the air into a hazy smog. Everywhere are bricks - stacked bricks, bricks on pallets, broken bricks used as pavers or heaped in vacant allotments.

It has just rained, and I feel like I'm living inside a hot, damp sponge. We pass over numerous canals, where the steady flow of river traffic suggests that the region is on a totally focussed export drive. Indeed, Vietnam is set soon to overtake Thailand to become the world's leading rice exporter. Across the Hau Giang the big city of Long Xuyên, aglow with sparkling new hotels and apartment buildings, also finds the time to process over 50 cubic metres of Mekong Ca tra fish a day, much of it destined for the tables of Europe and America.

Early in the next morning, we board the River Sprite, a spritely vessel indeed. Amazingly enough, I get to ride on the roof most of the way, a prime opportunity that affords a great view of river life. However, the rooftop vantage point is not without its dangers. Inevitably, it won't be very long before someone falls off, and the company bans roof-riding completely. So, the time to take the boat trips is right now!

We sail up the Tem River towards the Bassac, the wide southern arm of the Mekong River. Along the way, the riverside teems with life and commerce. Floating shops, service stations and markets complement their land-based counterparts. Then, after about 45 minutes' cruising we reach the Bassac River junction.

Here the river widens, becoming nearly an inland sea. But as before, I'm totally bowled over by the industriousness of the riverine peoples. Along the riverbanks, baskets of potatoes and other freshly-harvested vegetables are loaded straight onto barges. Everyone is meaningfully engaged with life, always and everywhere.

The border crossing at Tonlé is a leisurely affair. So few people as yet cross the Vietnam-Cambodia frontier here that the whole procedure takes nearly an hour (by the time the relevant stamps have been found, and forms that you'll never need are laboriously filled in). At the same time, much friendly banter accompanies the formalities.

The comparison between the two sides of the border could not be more pronounced. By comparison with the hard-working Vietnamese, the Cambodians seem positively indolent. And the results are evidenced in a much lower standard of living - poorer houses, few big river vessels (the only large vessel I see all the way to Phnom Penh is carrying a Vietnamese flag).

By comparison with the cultured and sophisticated Vietnamese, I found myself thinking that today's Khmers are lower than a pus-sucker's podiatrist. Of course, I was wrong. The Khmer in fact have their own sophisticated body language, one in which I'm very far from being fluent.

Cambodia also has a glorious ancient history to which it can look. This history, epitomised in the temples of Angkor, is a real anchor, a lynch-pin around which the country is slowly rebuilding itself. After the protracted trauma of the genocidal Khmer Rouge era, when most of the country's managers were exterminated, full recovery will take several generations.

At Neak Luong, an important town on the Phnom Penh-Ho Chi Minh City Road, we cut across the route of the vehicular ferry that crosses the Mekong. Neak Luong is the gateway to Prey Veng province, an agricultural district starting about 40 km east of Phnom Penh. The name Prey Veng means "long forest" in the Khmer language; but today you see few trees, merely a landscape of vast fields of rich lime-green rice paddies.

Prey Veng province is one of the poorest in Cambodia, but thankfully escaped the worst ravages of the Khmer Rouge. While agriculture is slowly returning to normal despite the disastrous floods of 1999, "agriculture" in Prey Veng still means "rice", and little else. This monoculture mentality is something the government is trying to overturn, with extensive plantings of sugar-palms, a tree that yields sugar, fibre, building materials and fuel.

Finally, the high-rises of Phnom Penh's skyline become visible. Fronting the Tonlé Sap River, Sisowath Quay (a landscaped boulevard and boardwalk), stretches for about four kilometres.

I'm totally stunned to see the transformation that has occurred in Phnom Penh. Sisowath Quay was in my memory little more than a dusty lane, a rubbish-strewn road with potholes so big that a bicycle-rickshaw could disappear into one of them without leaving a trace.

But now, in the year 2001, Sisowath Quay is emerging as one of the world's great promenades, with new cafés, boardwalks and landscaping making the whole boulevard one of those rare cityscapes that immediately invite you to linger and enjoy.

Opposite Sisowath Quay, the peninsula formed where the Tonlé Sap and Mekong Rivers meet is for now nothing but grazing land for cows and water buffalo. However, things are changing fast. Phnom Penh's Municipal Governor Chea Sophara dreams of turning this area into a "City of Tomorrow", which will attract tourists from around the globe. Work on the giant redevelopment project began in earnest in January 2001.

In drenching humidity, I take a walk to the National Museum, with its superb sculpture collection. The Museum is one of the few cultural monuments to survive the Khmer Rouge era. The spires and roof cornices of the Museum nearly seem to puncture the clouds, while the striking red ochre façade stands out starkly against the sky.

The Museum's treasures include bronze sculptures from all over the country, particularly showcasing the riches of the civilisation that built the temples of Angkor. In pride of place at the Museum is the uniquely Khmer figure of Harihara, a god said to be half Vishnu and half Siva.

In the evening, anybody who is anybody (together with most who aren't) congregates at the Foreign Correspondents Club of Cambodia, right on Sisowath Quay overlooking the River. The FCCC is world-famous, both as a hangout for respected reporters and as a haven for hack journalists. This notwithstanding, the Foreign Correspondents' Club is still a "must" for all visitors to Phnom Penh. Talk may turn to the latest antics of President Hun Sen, but all are agreed that, like the figure of Harihara in the National Museum, the Cambodian leader is a master at carefully balancing opposing forces.

A similar balancing act must surely have been the task of those who managed to get the Victoria Sprite service up and running. To travel from Chinese-influenced Vietnam to Cambodia (with its Hindu-derived Khmer culture) is just a short journey in terms of distance, but light-years in terms of bridging ethnic and religious differences. I feel highly privileged to be in on the trip.

(Source: http://www.thingsasian.com) Poster by: Vietnam tours

Mekong Delta Adventure

Sai Gon - My Tho - Ben Tre - Can Tho - Long Xuyen - Chau Doc - Vinh Suong
By: boat, bus, mini-bus, xich lo, xe om, xe may loi, xe dap loi, etc.

I returned to Viet Nam for the second time in late April 2005 to attend a veteran's, photojournalist's and war correspondent's reunion to coincide with the 30th anniversary of the end of the war; April 30th. I had already decided to tour the Mekong Delta, where I had never traveled, so, after a week in Sai Gon attending events, photographing the sights and visiting with friends I set out. Delta Adventure Tours offers a 3-day package tour continuing on into Cambodia on the morning of the fourth day but as I wanted to spend more than one night in each town I made arrangements to pick up the trip every other day.
Day One, Friday, 5/6: Sai Gon to My Tho. At 8:00 AM myself and about 14 others board a boat at the wharf on Ton Duc Thang Blvd. for the trip to My Tho. Cruising down the Sai Gon River we pass a large variety of commercial craft heading both up & down-river; merchant ships, heavily-laden cargo boats, small sampans and fishing vessels. As we get further away from the city we pick up speed and the banks change from buildings to lush green foliage. At 11:30 we arrive at My Tho. My hotel, the Chuong Duong, is right on the river. After lunch I explore My Tho, a pleasant little town on the banks of the Tien Giang branch of the Mekong. I visit the Cao Dai temple, the ferry landing, the Central Market and then just wander the streets until dark.
Day Two, Saturday, 5/7: Ben Tre. After an unsuccessful negotiation the previous afternoon to hire a car through Tien Giang Tourist to take me to Ben Tre today, I have to decided to go there on my own. Primary goal is to find and photograph the two Cao Dai temples there. I cross the river on the ferry. After some difficulties and a rather roundabout journey I arrive at the first temple just in time for the noon service. The kindly elders show me around the whole complex which I have carte blanche to shoot. After a late lunch I wander the town visiting the market and waterfront. I pass on trying to find the second temple; my limited Vietnamese language skills are not up to explaining, its Saturday, Ben Tre Tourist offices are closed, there are no taxis, only xe om, xe may loi & xe dap loi so, in the late afternoon I get a xe om back to the ferry landing to return to My Tho.
Day Three, Sunday, 5/8: My Tho to Can Tho. I spend the morning shooting in the market & around town. At 12:30 the Delta guide arrives to inform me that the bus that is to take us to Can Tho will be late due to a flat tire. I wait it out in the rain with the others. We get off around 3:00 PM; it's slow going; traffic + rain = accidents. The highlight of this trip is crossing the new bridge at Vinh Long. At the ferry crossing there's a 30 min. wait to cross the Hau Giang so we don't arrive in Can Tho until well after dark. I get a xe dap loi to my hotel, the A Chau, where, after a little negotiation, I get a balcony room for $2.00 more than an interior. Then it's out for dinner and a quick look around before retiring early.
Day Four, Monday, 5/9: Can Tho. Up early & down to the waterfront, which is bustling with activity. I let an old woman persuade me into going on a 2-hour canal tour in her small boat. Not as interesting as advertised but I get some good shots. After lunch I meet Anh Hau, a former ARVN interpreter who speaks excellent English. I retain his services as a guide & we set off on his xe om to explore the city; the market, a couple of temples and other sights. Can Tho is a really nice town. Friendly people, great sights & good food. I'm having a great time here.
Day Five, Tuesday, 5/10: Can Tho. Up at 6:00 AM for a 7:00 AM departure on a boat trip to the Cai Rang & Phong Dien floating markets. This is very interesting; lots of activity as we move among the boats selling every kind of fruit & vegetable grown in the Delta. After a brief stop at an orchard for fruit and tea we head back to town in the pouring rain. After lunch I hook up with Anh Hau again to continue exploring Can Tho, including a trip to the supermarket to get some provisions for tomorrow's trip.
Day Six, Wednesday, 5/11: Can Tho to Long Xuyen/Chau Doc. At 8:00 AM we're off on the bus to Long Xuyen where we'll get on a boat to continue on to Chau Doc. The bus trip is uninteresting but the boat trip is fantastic. It's great to be back on the river again, this time the Hau Giang, and I'm enjoying, and shooting, the variety of sights along the way including the sunset. We arrive in Chau Doc after dark. While the others pile onto the tour bus I get a xe dap loi to my hotel, the Thuan Loi. It's been an exhausting day so I decide to treat myself and have dinner at the Victoria Chau Doc, the city's luxury hotel. A sumptuous meal served by gorgeous women in a beautiful colonial-style dining room. Who could ask for more!
Day Seven, Thursday, 5/12: Chau Doc. Up and out early to go exploring as I have only one full day here. The morning is spent in Chau Doc town in the markets, temples & waterfront. After lunch I hire a xe om for the trip up Nui Sam, where I go to the temples and get my first look at Cambodia from the summit. The landscape is green & lush with rice paddies extending in every direction. At the base of the mountain I visit two more temples before heading back to town. Dinner at a floating restaurant caps off the day.
Day Eight, Friday, 5/13: Chau Doc - Vinh Suong. My last day in Viet Nam. A few tense moments this AM as I think the Delta folks have forgotten about me & I'm going to be left behind. A few calls solve the problem and as if by magic a xe om appears to take me to the boat landing. The trip to Vinh Suong takes about 2 hours. We disembark and climb up the riverbank to clear Vietnamese immigration & customs. In the customs shed there is a gigantic airport-style X-ray machine; an anachronism in this remote place. Upon exiting a crowd of boys vie to carry our bags for the 200-meter walk into Camdodia. After passing Cambodian immigration it's onto another boat to continue upriver to Phnom Penh, but... that's another story.
Summary: I set out to see if I could travel around Viet Nam by myself with minimal planning and assistance from organized tour operators, as I like the freedom to go where & when I want. Surprisingly, I was able to do so without much difficulty. When I was ready to move on I consulted my guidebook, chose a hotel, called ahead and reserved a room. This worked every time. I then called Delta in Sai Gon and told them I was ready to pick up the tour. To be sure there were a few tense moments when I thought I had been forgotten but they always came through, if a bit late. My limited Vietnamese-language skills came in quite handy and at the very least drew surprise, smiles & laughter from those I was attempting to communicate with. The cell phone I purchased in Sai Gon was a lifesaver. I'd do a similar trip again without reservation. Everybody I met was warm and friendly and eager to help; many even volunteered without my asking. I'd encourage anyone contemplating a similar journey to... GO FOR IT! In short, I had a wonderful time, made some new friends and got to see one of the most fascinating areas of Viet Nam - my way - not sitting on some tour bus.
Published on 6/19/06

(Source: www.thingsasian.com) Poster by: Vietnam tours

Up a Hill and Down a Mountain

My last day in the Mekong Delta brings me to the foot of Sam Mountain. Having filled my plate with magical visits to My Tho, Can Tho, floating markets, rural schools and mud-floored huts, I look forward to a peaceful, uneventful hike up this hill of a mountain near Chau Doc and the Cambodian border.
My driver and guide, Bay, strolls with me through the tombs of Thoai Ngoc Hau, where colorful flowers grow wild between ancient stones. We climb higher where countless temples and pagodas pepper the trailside; small and seemingly make-shift buildings with corrugated tin roofs, these tiny, modest structures reveal their Chinese influence in the characters framing the darkened doorways. Weary from hundreds of miles of driving, Bay returns to our hotel for a well-earned nap, giving me the freedom to climb this enchanting mountain on my own. Enjoying my solitude, I creep through an inviting yellow temple and poke my head into an incense-filled shrineroom. Turning around, I am startled by a wrinkled and storied face looking at me calmly. Motioning with his hands and speaking his best broken English, a brown-robed monk tells me of his difficult path to monastic life, having spent three years in prison while serving during the war. Although past hardship is revealed in his aged face, there is an unmistakable gleam of peace in his eyes. We bow before I continue up the mountain where dogs and chickens communally dart across the trail looking for morsels dropped by tourists but I am the only visitor.
Further up, I stumble upon a little girl diligently doing her homework along the trail. Undisturbed by my presence, she continues her studies as I look closely. I can't help her. I also can't help but notice her school materials: a weathered book, a thin notebook and a small leather book bag. It reminds me of the bare bones conditions of the schools I had visited earlier during my journey through the delta, where students sit four to a wooden bench and pencils are a rare commodity. Yet, like the other students I observed, this little girl remains undaunted in her task, bare feet and all.
Carrying the precious image of the little girl's face up the mountain, I encounter harder faces at an outdoor cafe near the top. A group of men, including an officer in olive drab khakis sporting red shoulder patches, are drinking and smoking and carrying on. Matching those red shoulder patches, the officer's glance seems particularly menacing as I sip a Coke and look out on the vast horizon to Cambodia.
"Have a drink with us," he demands in surprisingly well-spoken English. Avoiding the alcohol, I join the group with my Coke and share my experiences of the Mekong Delta. The officer's face lights up when I talk of my school visits.
"Come with me!" he commands, escorting me to a motorcycle while his friends nod and smile. My God! What did I say? We peel off to the top of the mountain as the officer tells me of a school he wants me to see. We stop at an army outpost at the top of the mountain where he runs in and out in a hurry, perhaps getting permission from a superior to perform his civic duty. As we twist and turn down the dirt road, I clutch the red shoulder patches of the officer, trying not to think about how much he has had to drink.
Containing my nerves, I arrive safely on the other side of Sam Mountain at Truong Trung Hoc High School. We are greeted by the principal and vice-principal, both of whom, to my pleasant surprise, are women. With other staff joining us, including an English teacher who interprets for the principal, we sit and talk over lemonade as I learn of the enormous drop out rate among Chau Doc students: 40% at the middle school level, another 20% at the high school level, and finally only a handful actually going on to university. I also learn that teachers earn between 20 and 40 dollars per month, not including any emergency funds they are required to pay by the state--for example, in case of floods. Lastly, noticing a mural of a hammer and sickle on the wall, I ask, "Do you teach only Marxism?"
"Of course we teach Marxism," she explains through the interpreter. "But we teach all philosophies." The soldier nods and smiles.
Saved by the bell, school is out and uniformed students collect their bikes and start for home. Curious boys in red ties and girls in graceful white ao dai dresses stop to smile and wave as I quickly tour the stark library before being whisked away, back to my hotel--the officer was late for duty. How many of these students will graduate from college? Will the little girl back by the trailside of Sam Mountain make it to middle school? The soldier--I never learned his name, but he went through a transformation from an authority I wanted to avoid to an indispensable guide--delivers an informal salute and heads off, leaving me with many questions and an unforgettable experience.
My uneventful hike up a hill had become a mountain of insight into the people of Chau Doc, and a fitting end to a magically educational journey through the Mekong Delta.
See also these stories on the Mekong:
Life on the Mekong, Photography ~ Lou Dematteis, Text ~ Sarah Tilton (March/April 1995)
Mekong, A Journey on the Mother of Waters, Photography ~ Michael Yamashita (May/June 1997)
Traveling to Tra Vinh ~ F.R. Fritz Nordengren (May/June 1997)
(Source: www.thingsasian.com) poster: Vietnam tours