Back on a bus headed for Hoi An, Vietnam. It’s Christmas Day. The weather has taken a turn from hot and muggy to a pesky misty rain and much cooler temps. We have hit many cities so far in Vietnam and again we hear, from our local guides, about the horrors of war and the way of the communist rule here in SE Asia. I’m reminded of the famous line from Apocalypse Now…”the horror.” It’s only been since 2000 that westerners have been welcomed back into these countries, and unless you are hearing an account, such as the Tet Offensive, you’d never know how ravaged the people have been. As travelers, we now are bolstering the economy and making a better life for the Vietnamese, Laotians, and Cambodians. They’ve opened up to share their culture, their very kind souls.
As we’ve been traveling about in these countries, I can’t help but feel that slight embarrassment of being from a country that gave up after engaging in such horrorable acts. Our guide said it quite perfectly yesterday, the people choose to live in the present moment. Harboring hate and anger only eats at the lively hood they are enjoying. They are a proud, hard working and very considerate people.
Throughout Vietnam, we’ve seen Buddhist Temples, King’s Tombs, Pagodas, museums and memorials. A culture dating back before anything I can imagine. The streets are lined with markets and food stands, restaurants and hotels that welcome the traveler in. The flurry of motor bikes, cars and buses, vying for a little piece of the road, and even the sidewalks. Two, three, even four people stacked onto a small motor bike. Huge piles of textiles, packaged goods, food and even other motor bikes and animals, all carefully balanced on these small motor bikes. Who needs a van…
Then there’s the thick jungles, farms and cemeteries, stretching as far as the eye can see, when traveling by bus or train from destination to destination. Buddhist Temple and Monasteries stitch together communities, both in the cities and countrysides. The buildings and houses are covered in thick moss and mildew creating a patina only Mother Nature and time can create. The hard working farmers, often are seen plowing muddy fields with water buffalo. Villagers in conical hats, stray, skinny dogs laze around waiting for some kind soul to drop a tasty morsel, perhaps the only food they will get. Ancestor houses at the entrance of every home, carefully decorated in flowers and incense. Huge rivers meander silently, providing transportation and food, through these countries. Mystical and beautiful in its own way.
The rain pitter patters on the window, breaking my stare and bringing me back to the bus, as I watch the bumpy black ribbon of tar take us away from Hue to Hoi An and another city to discover its secrets and stories.
Two Travelin' Chicas... 