Monday, December 25, 2006
Happy holidays from Hoi An, Vietnam
Merry Christmas and happy Boxing Day from central Vietnam (a charming city named Hoi An). For my first Christmas in Vietnam, it was grand. On Christmas Eve, I met Tommy, the Vietnamese Guest Relations Manager, at the resort where I'm staying. (Guardian Angel #3). Tommy is young, friendly, hard-working and very ambitious: he typifies the new generation of Vietnamese professionals who are transforming the country's economy and who have big plans for their futures.
Tommy asked me to help him plan the resort's Christmas Eve dinner and party and to join him in leading a round of "Jingle Bells" and "We Wish You a Merry Christmas". We also planned a game of charades. Before the party, Tommy invited me to join him, his fiance and her family at home for a traditional Vietnamese meal. So off we sped, with me hanging off the back of his moto in my dress and heels.
It was very interesting to enter a middle class Vietnamese family home. House Description: There is a tiled front yard where family members park their motorbikes (four in total). The family run an Internet cafe and classroom which is where the main entrance is. Off to the side is a tiny alleyway which leads to both a formal dining room and a small kitchen with a dining table painted bright green. At the back of the kitchen is a small outdoor courtyard where laundry hangs and a few bonsai are arranged. There is a tiny little room in the back where their elderly grandfather stays. I only spied him once. He looks like a wise old man in his pajamas and wool capped pulled down with only a small, leathery face and deep-set eyes peering out. According to them, he likes to stay by himself in his room. I didn't get a chance to go upstairs to the sleeping quarters but there are three rooms. The house was spotlessly clean.
His family are wonderful, kind and generous people. Surprisingly, all of them spoke a bit of English and took great pleasure in teaching me some Vietnamese (strange sounds as in ow, awe, whaa, etc., which we hardly use in English). They squealed in delight when they met me and kept stroking my skin and pinching my cheeks. Apparently, people with dimples are considered sweet here. I faced a barage of questions: 'How old are you? Are you married? Do you like Vietnam? How much do you weigh?' (peels of laughter at my response and the words 'You are very strong' which I interpret to be a kind translation of 'You are fat'. I've heard that phrase over and over here when being described by Vietnamese people. It isn't hard to be 'strong' here. The women are tiny, just like "China dolls" as they are so often described. No tits, no bum, no hips, little body fat.
We sat down to a lovely dinner of salad, fried chicken and a very hearty chicken soup served in little bowls with chopsticks. They served a little of everything at a time. Now, I'm quite deft with chopsticks but I struggled with the fried chicken until they thankfully encouraged me to use my fingers. As soon as I did, the family joined in as well.
After a quick dinner, Tommy and I sped off to get ready for the party at the hotel. The guy with the keyboard was waiting so we practised "Jingle Bells" a few times. Then the party began, featuring Apsara dancers, traditional Vietnames minority dances, opera, and of course, karoake singing performed by one of the house cleaners, a security guard and Tommy. I now understand why karoake is so popular in Asia. It really allows people from every walk of life to pour their hearts and souls into their music in a way which is not necessarily available in everyday life here. These people that I greet everyday in the hotel were confident, happy, passionate singing sensations that night. You can't judge a book by it's cover is all I can say. Our rendition of "Jingle Bells" was a resounding success with the guests joining in heartily. Some lovely Americans from California saved our game of charades. Luckily, some of them were grade school teachers so were game for this kind of entertainment. The staff ended up moving the tables off to the sides so we could all dance to the karoake singers and keyboard player. It was lovely to see that even the hotel's general manager and one of its owners joined the guests dancing. The lovely Americans invited me to join them for Christmas dinner in town the next day.
So how did I spend Christmas? I slept in, ate breakfast and then Tommy and I headed to the market where I bought a bunch of flowers for his family. We were invited to share lunch with them, this time served in the kitchen. Then, Tommy took me to a tailor's shop. Hoi An is renowned for its cheap tailor shops where staff can whip up anything you want for very reasonable prices. I ended up ordering five linen kaftans, two cotton shirt dresses and two button-down shirts which would be ready in 24 hours. They can make anything: business suits from top-quality Italian wool, evening gowns of the finest Asian silk, wool winter coats in any colour. You name it, they can do it. Despite being sceptical about having shoes made, I broke down and ordered two pairs of leather, wedge-heeled strappy sandals in red and black which would also be ready in 24 hours. After so much shopping, I was happy to treat myself to a lovely oil massage and hot stone treatment at the resort spa. Ah, the wonderful ginger oil they used on me was heaven on earth. Later, I headed out for Christmas dinner with four lovely American women from California and Arizona: Sandy, Rose, Harriet and Anne. Sandy is the Mayor of a small town in California so all evening, we addressed her teasingly as "Your Eminence". The setting was lovely, beside the river in a garden with brightly-coloured silk lanterns, fish ponds and tropical plants.
Today, Boxing Day, I'm going to pick up my stuff and do some last-minute shopping. Tomorrow, I leave for the royal city of Hue.
P.S. The Vietnamese are incredibly hard-working people. Most work seven days per week with only a few days holiday per year, if any. The workday starts at 7 a.m. for manual workers, I've discovered, after being woken up at this time every morning as there is some construction going on on the lot beside my room. At first, I was really irritated at being woken up so early on my holidays but it's sobering to think that relentless work schedule is all they know. We are soooo blessed to live in the West.
Tommy asked me to help him plan the resort's Christmas Eve dinner and party and to join him in leading a round of "Jingle Bells" and "We Wish You a Merry Christmas". We also planned a game of charades. Before the party, Tommy invited me to join him, his fiance and her family at home for a traditional Vietnamese meal. So off we sped, with me hanging off the back of his moto in my dress and heels.
It was very interesting to enter a middle class Vietnamese family home. House Description: There is a tiled front yard where family members park their motorbikes (four in total). The family run an Internet cafe and classroom which is where the main entrance is. Off to the side is a tiny alleyway which leads to both a formal dining room and a small kitchen with a dining table painted bright green. At the back of the kitchen is a small outdoor courtyard where laundry hangs and a few bonsai are arranged. There is a tiny little room in the back where their elderly grandfather stays. I only spied him once. He looks like a wise old man in his pajamas and wool capped pulled down with only a small, leathery face and deep-set eyes peering out. According to them, he likes to stay by himself in his room. I didn't get a chance to go upstairs to the sleeping quarters but there are three rooms. The house was spotlessly clean.
His family are wonderful, kind and generous people. Surprisingly, all of them spoke a bit of English and took great pleasure in teaching me some Vietnamese (strange sounds as in ow, awe, whaa, etc., which we hardly use in English). They squealed in delight when they met me and kept stroking my skin and pinching my cheeks. Apparently, people with dimples are considered sweet here. I faced a barage of questions: 'How old are you? Are you married? Do you like Vietnam? How much do you weigh?' (peels of laughter at my response and the words 'You are very strong' which I interpret to be a kind translation of 'You are fat'. I've heard that phrase over and over here when being described by Vietnamese people. It isn't hard to be 'strong' here. The women are tiny, just like "China dolls" as they are so often described. No tits, no bum, no hips, little body fat.
We sat down to a lovely dinner of salad, fried chicken and a very hearty chicken soup served in little bowls with chopsticks. They served a little of everything at a time. Now, I'm quite deft with chopsticks but I struggled with the fried chicken until they thankfully encouraged me to use my fingers. As soon as I did, the family joined in as well.
After a quick dinner, Tommy and I sped off to get ready for the party at the hotel. The guy with the keyboard was waiting so we practised "Jingle Bells" a few times. Then the party began, featuring Apsara dancers, traditional Vietnames minority dances, opera, and of course, karoake singing performed by one of the house cleaners, a security guard and Tommy. I now understand why karoake is so popular in Asia. It really allows people from every walk of life to pour their hearts and souls into their music in a way which is not necessarily available in everyday life here. These people that I greet everyday in the hotel were confident, happy, passionate singing sensations that night. You can't judge a book by it's cover is all I can say. Our rendition of "Jingle Bells" was a resounding success with the guests joining in heartily. Some lovely Americans from California saved our game of charades. Luckily, some of them were grade school teachers so were game for this kind of entertainment. The staff ended up moving the tables off to the sides so we could all dance to the karoake singers and keyboard player. It was lovely to see that even the hotel's general manager and one of its owners joined the guests dancing. The lovely Americans invited me to join them for Christmas dinner in town the next day.
So how did I spend Christmas? I slept in, ate breakfast and then Tommy and I headed to the market where I bought a bunch of flowers for his family. We were invited to share lunch with them, this time served in the kitchen. Then, Tommy took me to a tailor's shop. Hoi An is renowned for its cheap tailor shops where staff can whip up anything you want for very reasonable prices. I ended up ordering five linen kaftans, two cotton shirt dresses and two button-down shirts which would be ready in 24 hours. They can make anything: business suits from top-quality Italian wool, evening gowns of the finest Asian silk, wool winter coats in any colour. You name it, they can do it. Despite being sceptical about having shoes made, I broke down and ordered two pairs of leather, wedge-heeled strappy sandals in red and black which would also be ready in 24 hours. After so much shopping, I was happy to treat myself to a lovely oil massage and hot stone treatment at the resort spa. Ah, the wonderful ginger oil they used on me was heaven on earth. Later, I headed out for Christmas dinner with four lovely American women from California and Arizona: Sandy, Rose, Harriet and Anne. Sandy is the Mayor of a small town in California so all evening, we addressed her teasingly as "Your Eminence". The setting was lovely, beside the river in a garden with brightly-coloured silk lanterns, fish ponds and tropical plants.
Today, Boxing Day, I'm going to pick up my stuff and do some last-minute shopping. Tomorrow, I leave for the royal city of Hue.
P.S. The Vietnamese are incredibly hard-working people. Most work seven days per week with only a few days holiday per year, if any. The workday starts at 7 a.m. for manual workers, I've discovered, after being woken up at this time every morning as there is some construction going on on the lot beside my room. At first, I was really irritated at being woken up so early on my holidays but it's sobering to think that relentless work schedule is all they know. We are soooo blessed to live in the West.
