When Lan Anh stayed with me and Mark last summer, we had a running joke that Mark intitated. She was such an incredible guest, so competent, so smart and capable, that Mark commented 'we got Ho Chi Minh's grand daughter staying with us'. We used it often during her three week stay, along with other witticisms such as the time Soberman brought his dachsund 'Vinnie' over for a visit, and we told her that 'we don't eat dogs here, leave Vinnie alone', that sort of clever repartee. Oh yeah, we're a bundle of laughs.
But back to Uncle Ho, as he's called here.... it was a high compliment that we were bestowing with that moniker, and she lived up to it. In the eleven years that I've been living on West Amazon, we've hosted dozens of disabled guests who were in town on Mobility International Conferences, and Lan Anh was at the very top of the list. She basically took over our place, in a good way. She would ask Mark to take her to the Asian store for supplies, and then every day she would prepare the kind of food that was right for her, rice soups, vegetables, ground pork wrapped with veggies and rolled up in egg rolls. No ham sandwiches and apples for this girl, she wanted it the way she wanted it, and she made it happen. We loved having her stay with us.
And now the 'joke' has come full circle. This morning, Lan Anh called me into her room and asked if I wanted to see what her mom was doing as part of the Tet celebration. 'Of course', I replied, setting down my guitar as I had been working on yet more lyrics for my Boom boom song. I go into the room and mom is lighting incense and praying to an altar of the ancestors. She had placed a meal for them on a tray which she put on the dresser, behind which were photos of grandparents,, great grandparents, and on the very top, a large photo of Ho Chi Minh. Just under the photo of Ho was a picture of her great grandfather, complete with Ho Chi Minh beard, skull cap and the same impression as the leader. They could have been twins. They were contemporaries after all, and I'll have to ask if they knew eachother.
The offered meal consisted of bamboo, chicken, rice, 5 shots of vodka and five beers, along with some mandarins, a watermelon and some sweets. The idea was to leave it there for half an hour for the ancestors to enjoy, then it would be the meal that we ate. Mom held an incense stick and bowed three times and indicated that I could do the same, if I wanted to. Of course I did, and feeling very reverential and grateful, I said my prayers for the ancestors, and by extension, for all the Vietnamese who suffered in the past. (if you know what I'm saying). I was very touched by the experience, all the more so because of the photo of Lan Anh's dad who passed away three months ago, and has now taken his place on the dresser. After a year, his photo will be raised onto the wall as a permanent member of the honored guests.
I woke up this morning at 8:30am, and went down to use the bathroom. Mother was in the kitchen, and she indicated that I could wash my face with the liquid that she was preparing, a broth made from a special grass, also part of the new years tradition, providing for a fragrant and healthy year. I sat down on one of the low stools that they use when washing dishes, and I spent some minutes washing my face in the 'perfume'. And praying for a holy year. (another lovely tradition)
Last night we stayed up past midnight, enjoying the spotless house and some very tacky Vietnamese TV with a new year's show that was pretty lame... wooden interviews, lip synched entertainment, geared to the older set. I really had the urge for some thrashing, youth culture rock, but that was not to be. Instead it was a bunch of models in costume, doing lame choreography with painted on smiles and cheesy music... not that I would judge, of course. After midnight, Lan Anh's uncle and cousin showed up, super sweet people, he a cop, and the cousin studying electircal engineering. they had a drink, stayed for twenty minutes and then took us, meaning we were free to go to bed.
Oh I forgot about the 'lucky money', which you put in envelopes and give to your close peeps, along with wishes for prosperity and a good year. I participated in the ritual, borrowing some envelopes from Lan Anh and giving to her, her mom, husband and son. (about $20 worth, but who's counting?) and I received an envelope from Lan Anh and her mom, along with genuine wishes for a prosperous year.... nice...
This morning, we were paid a visit by a large group of men, all wearing suits and ties. These are the neighborhood guys, representatives of a group of 24 families which is how the society here is organized. They go to each of the houses in the group, paying respects, drinking a spot of tea, eating a piece of fruit, shaking hands, and then on to the next place. They all shook my hand, offered a smile. when I said, 'where are the women?' and Lan Anh translated, they all laughed. the women come later in the afternoon.... morning is guy time. I liked the tradition, and I look forward to meeting the wives as well.
And since father passed away recently, there is a New Year's tradition of paying respects to the family by coming to visit and offer condolences on the first three days of the new year. I guess it's the vietnamese equivalent of the Jewish 'sitting shiva', which is the seven day period after a death when the family stays home to receive visitors. Here they wait until the new year, and then the dropping in begins. (I'm thinking there won't be any chopped liver.... but you never know :-)
Well that's it from Tet, and yeah, I did have to mention to the family that for me, the word 'Tet' was always followed by 'Offensive' as in the turning point of the Vietnam War in 1969, when they washed their faces in traditional broth, blessed their ancestors, gave lucky money, and then kicked our asses back where they belonged. I might have phrased it a little differently than that, of course, but I did express the gratitude and appreciation for getting the wonderful chance to really celebrate and understand the holiday. Happy New Year, everybody, from Song Cong, Thai Nguyen Province, north of Hanoi...
rich
Twas the night before Tet, and all through the house...
Took a languorous walk out of town this afternoon around 2pm as the streets were nearly empty. The wide avenue that goes through town quickly became a narrow winding street when it crossed the river and went into the countryside. I shouldered my guitar, figuring I might find a quiet place to strum this new thing I've been working on, so I hit the road looking for the muse.
Often I'll get that 'Erev Ba' feeling as the sun begins to set, Erev Ba being an Israeli folk song that talks about the evening approaching and a certain kind of stillness in the air as the days draws to a close. I had that kind of dreamy vibe going, wandering in a new place, waving to the folks who waved at me, passing cornfields, yapping dogs, people on mororcycles, some cows, a meandering river, very peaceful on the day of the New Year celebration.
3 or 4 different people stopped their bikes as they passed me, indicating that I could hop on and take a ride if I was so inclined. I smiled and thanked them, indicating that I was just out for a walk, but I was struck by the friendliness and kindness being offered. (here in North Vietnam, sabes?). Many others stopped to wave, say 'Hello', shake my hand, and offer a smile. Like I say, there is no tourism in this community and I was an oddity, which suited me just fine.
On the way back to town, instead of crossing back over the river, I scouted out a little flat spot hidden under a stand of bamboo, and there I spent maybe half an hour practicing this new piece, imagining some lyrical ideas, and simply enjoying my guitar friend one more time. It was such a great move to bring it along, as not a day goes by that I'm not pleased to have it along. Often it's a way for others to connect with me, as tons of people know a few chords and are wanting to play something... which leads to some kind of interchange as others hear the music and come to check it out. I should name this guitar, she has became quite a great friend. I'm open to suggestions for a name.... (maybe something a little Spanish, as I picked her up in Sevilla).
Speaking of names, as in 'Who's on first?', last night I was totally enjoying the fried egg roll things that Lan Anh's husband Sing had made. I asked, 'what do you call these, what's the name?' She said, 'mame', I said, yeah, the name, she said, 'name'. That's what it's called. OMG they are so delicious and there's another batch for tonight's feast. A combination of pork, veggies, noodles, mushrooms chopped fine and rolled into a rice paper tortilla thing, then fried in oil to a golden brown. That's what's in a name...
Also on the humor front, and this one courtesy of Sing. One of the dishes we ate was cooked bamboo, and I made the comment that wow, you build with it, sit on it, use it for mats, picture frames, even eat it. He added, in Vietnamese, 'yeah and we stick it in the feet of the prisoners', as that was one of the ways of interroagating prisoners. Doesn't sound funny to write it down, but in the context of the conversation, it was hilarious. So good to share humor with these friends.
When I came back from the walk, Lan Anh was busy putting together tonights 'name' and Sing was slaughtering a chicken which they keep in a little coop in the backyard. It's for tonight's ceremony and I was interested in how he performed the ritual. He grabbed it, used his feet to stabilize it, put his hand over the head to stretch it and calm it down, then sliced the neck to bleed it. He collected the blood in a bowl, then kind of kept the bird really still as it died. Seemed humane and respectful. Next he turned it over and over in hot water to soften it up for plucking the feathers, which he spent twenty minutes carefully doing. Midnight bird tonight.
Of course I wanted to help in the preparation, and I got the opportunity fo first bring in some of the plants for the setting, including the mandarin tree, now strung with lights, as well as a large, white blossomed plant in a big planter, both of which were set on opposite sides of the room. Then it was time to sweep the large sidewalk in front of the house as well as toss bucket after bucket of water to move the dirt toward the street. I did this with Lan Anh's mom and the neighbors looked on approvingly. Then she handed me a bucket and a mop and I did the floors twice so the place is now sparkling. We're gonna have a meal before too long, and then hang around until midnight when the relatives show up for the real celebration, with champagne, special foods, lucky money etc. I'll write about it after it happens.
It's now 6:15 pm, dark and we'll see what happens from here. My first Tet, best one yet...
Often I'll get that 'Erev Ba' feeling as the sun begins to set, Erev Ba being an Israeli folk song that talks about the evening approaching and a certain kind of stillness in the air as the days draws to a close. I had that kind of dreamy vibe going, wandering in a new place, waving to the folks who waved at me, passing cornfields, yapping dogs, people on mororcycles, some cows, a meandering river, very peaceful on the day of the New Year celebration.
3 or 4 different people stopped their bikes as they passed me, indicating that I could hop on and take a ride if I was so inclined. I smiled and thanked them, indicating that I was just out for a walk, but I was struck by the friendliness and kindness being offered. (here in North Vietnam, sabes?). Many others stopped to wave, say 'Hello', shake my hand, and offer a smile. Like I say, there is no tourism in this community and I was an oddity, which suited me just fine.
On the way back to town, instead of crossing back over the river, I scouted out a little flat spot hidden under a stand of bamboo, and there I spent maybe half an hour practicing this new piece, imagining some lyrical ideas, and simply enjoying my guitar friend one more time. It was such a great move to bring it along, as not a day goes by that I'm not pleased to have it along. Often it's a way for others to connect with me, as tons of people know a few chords and are wanting to play something... which leads to some kind of interchange as others hear the music and come to check it out. I should name this guitar, she has became quite a great friend. I'm open to suggestions for a name.... (maybe something a little Spanish, as I picked her up in Sevilla).
Speaking of names, as in 'Who's on first?', last night I was totally enjoying the fried egg roll things that Lan Anh's husband Sing had made. I asked, 'what do you call these, what's the name?' She said, 'mame', I said, yeah, the name, she said, 'name'. That's what it's called. OMG they are so delicious and there's another batch for tonight's feast. A combination of pork, veggies, noodles, mushrooms chopped fine and rolled into a rice paper tortilla thing, then fried in oil to a golden brown. That's what's in a name...
Also on the humor front, and this one courtesy of Sing. One of the dishes we ate was cooked bamboo, and I made the comment that wow, you build with it, sit on it, use it for mats, picture frames, even eat it. He added, in Vietnamese, 'yeah and we stick it in the feet of the prisoners', as that was one of the ways of interroagating prisoners. Doesn't sound funny to write it down, but in the context of the conversation, it was hilarious. So good to share humor with these friends.
When I came back from the walk, Lan Anh was busy putting together tonights 'name' and Sing was slaughtering a chicken which they keep in a little coop in the backyard. It's for tonight's ceremony and I was interested in how he performed the ritual. He grabbed it, used his feet to stabilize it, put his hand over the head to stretch it and calm it down, then sliced the neck to bleed it. He collected the blood in a bowl, then kind of kept the bird really still as it died. Seemed humane and respectful. Next he turned it over and over in hot water to soften it up for plucking the feathers, which he spent twenty minutes carefully doing. Midnight bird tonight.
Of course I wanted to help in the preparation, and I got the opportunity fo first bring in some of the plants for the setting, including the mandarin tree, now strung with lights, as well as a large, white blossomed plant in a big planter, both of which were set on opposite sides of the room. Then it was time to sweep the large sidewalk in front of the house as well as toss bucket after bucket of water to move the dirt toward the street. I did this with Lan Anh's mom and the neighbors looked on approvingly. Then she handed me a bucket and a mop and I did the floors twice so the place is now sparkling. We're gonna have a meal before too long, and then hang around until midnight when the relatives show up for the real celebration, with champagne, special foods, lucky money etc. I'll write about it after it happens.
It's now 6:15 pm, dark and we'll see what happens from here. My first Tet, best one yet...
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