Having had our fill of the North, we set off next to see a few spots in Central and Southern Vietnam: the old coastal city Hoi An, the city-formerly-known-as-Saigon Ho Chi Minh, and the river town Chau Doc near the Cambodian border.

Hoi An

Stepping onto the tarmac in Da Nang, we we greeted by a light drizzle and the smallest airport we have ever seen. Over time, the drops got bigger and heavier, turning from benign mist into torrential downpour by the afternoon. So with no faith in the weather, we sought out indoor activities by signing up for a cooking class and spending some time hunkered down in our creaky, leaky attic room in a traditional Chinese guesthouse.

To our surprise, we awoke the next morning to bright sunshine and blue skies. Walking down to the river, we were shocked to see just how much it had rained the day before. The river was overflowing onto the streets as shopkeepers and restaurant owners frantically bailed the water out of their businesses. We’ve never seen anything quite like it, but it is the rainy season after all.

Vietnamese cooking class was fun. Since we were the only two people who had signed up for the course that day, we got a lot of hands on help from the chefs—which was great because had no idea what we were doing. First, they took us on a tour of the local market to buy what we needed for our dishes and to learn a few things about fresh produce. We picked up a few good tips on what to look for when picking lemongrass (slightly pink on bottom), avocados (listen for the pit), fish (check the eyes), and limes (lighter and harder beat greener and softer). Also, we discovered it’s best to pass on the saltwater lemonade.

After purchasing what we needed from the market we went back to the restaurant where they had everything laid out for us. From the menu, we had decided on four dishes:

• baked stuffed tomatoes, featuring a puree of pork, shrimp, mushrooms, Vietnamese herbs and spices
• grilled chicken with saffron and lemon leaf
• spicy grilled pork with lemongrass
• rice pasta rolls filled with crunchy fresh vegetables

By far my favorite dish was the rice pasta; it was delicious and the most fun to make. We barely made the cut when slicing the veggies, but did a little better making the rice pasta (which is like thin rice paper, but still moist). The idea is to ladle a dollop of milky rice flour mix onto a piece of fabric pulled taut over a steaming cauldron, cover for a few moments while it solidifies thinner than paper, then carefully peel it off and roll it up with veggies. It takes a lot of patience and a great deal of finesse to get just right—and experts we are not—but the results turned out pretty nice.

The last part of our cooking class involved sitting down to eat our hard work while everyone else cleaned up after us. But we didn’t just get a good meal and an education, they sent us home with a certificate and a goody bag full of spices and rice paper so that we can do it all again at home. Whether we will be able to replicate the results is another question.

With the sun still shining and the water back at a normal level, we decided to take advantage of the weather and hit the beach, where we spent a few hours with our toes in the white sand against a backdrop of swaying palm trees. It was beautiful, right up until the storm clouds rolled back in and we were left to scramble for cover—riding our motorbikes through the rain back into town hoping not to wipeout on the way.

The next morning we wandered around Hoi An before catching a taxi to the airport. It was a lovely city, but we were ready for drier climes.

Saigon

Ho Chi Minh City—née Saigon—is doomed to an eternity of comparisons with Hanoi. For us, Saigon was just as noisy, smelly, and chaotic as its counterpart in the North, but it lacked the particular old-world charms that made Hanoi worth all the trouble. There’s no doubt, though, the city is steeped in 20th century history.

We had caught glimpses and whispers of the war with America in Hanoi and Da Nang (where the first US invasions landed), but for the most part up North it felt almost as if the war had never happened. Indeed, the entire justification for fighting is all but a distant memory with Vietnam seeming to embrace capitalism even more wholeheartedly than China or even Korea. Walking around, we saw a lot of hammer-and-sicle flags along with propaganda posters galore, but those remain just about the only signs of this country’s communist past.

Saigon finally brought us face-to-face with our countries’ problematic history. We visited the “Reunification Palace” where the South put up its last stand, and eventually made our way to the enlightening, infuriating, and heartbreaking War Remnants Museum. Aside from its myriad collection of captured American military equipment, the museum houses several exhibits on the atrocities committed during battle and the aftermath of war. The United States used a number of regrettable tactics in Southeast Asia, including Agent Orange, Napalm, and carpet bombings and seeing the consequences of these both in Vietnam and at home was gut wrenching. But what was equally disturbing for us was the irony inherent in the exhibits about American protests. Here is the Vietnamese government lavishing high praise on American citizens for something it would never let its own people do: stand up to the government in protest.

Chau Doc

To begin the final leg of our two-week trek through Vietnam, we found ourselves on a hot, crowded six hour bus ride to the upper delta region of Chau Doc. We had a full day before catching our boat to Phnom Penh and while there isn’t much to see in town, we wanted a chance to observe life on the river so we rented a pair of bikes and rode nearly 50 km around Sam mountain and the fields outside the city. Besides unintentionally completing Stage 12 of the Tour de France, we got a real glimpse into the lives of the rural Vietnamese as we passed by.

We were particularly amazed by the houses people had built for themselves along the river and in the rice paddies. They seemed to be held up by little more than hope and hard work. Even more amazing was how friendly everybody was. It wasn’t that people in Northern Vietnam were unwelcoming or abrasive, it’s just that their greetings were generally followed by a sales pitch. The people in Chau Doc, however, seemed genuinely warm with no other agenda—which could be because these people have nothing much to sell us anyway and so they offer the only thing they can: a smile and a robust “hello”. Although an elderly woman held up her infant grandchild and I am pretty sure she was offering him to us as a gift. The kids were especially excited and friendly. They would run after us with huge grins, jumping up and down and seemingly putting every muscle into their “hellos!!!” and “whatsyournames?”. At one point, we were nearly abducted by a gang of sassy five-year-olds laughing and pulling at our arms. Which wouldn’t have been so bad, really. It is just so rare to feel welcome in a place because you are a stranger.

Chau Doc was an unexpected and pleasant surprise for us and it was a nice ending to our time in Vietnam. But after two weeks in the country we were ready for a change and so we packed our malaria pills and boarded a boat headed up the Tonle Bassac to our next destination: Cambodia.