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Danang.
It is just after 5:30 am as I sit to write this long overdue blog. Sorry to those of you who have written with worries from not having heard from me. I have settled in and become quite lazy. Outside of my lovely big windows, in the suburban Da Nang neighborhood I have been living in for nearly one month, is the daily music and inspirational message for the day, courtesy of the Communist Party of Vietnam. I have come to really enjoy the music – it is well, cheery and very upbeat. The kind of melody one would hear at opening ceremonies of Olympics or at other important events. Big choirs singing with a background orchestra; the important chorus parts emphasized with cymbals clashing. The spoken messages are about getting up, doing exercise and taking on the day with vigor and prosperity. Added messages are sprinkled in here and there (so I am told) about the dangers of smoking, the vices of alcohol consumption and the slippery road that gambling can lead. All good messages. In my particular neighborhhood, based on the number of red flags with golden sickles, I can say that the Party is very pronounced. And the message delivers – the neighborhood is in full swing by the time I head off, at 6:15am to walk the 20 minutes to my tennis lesson.
All of the market is fully stocked and women are heading home with the armloads of vegetables and fish, chickens and fruit for that particular day's meals. Everything here is cooked fresh – every meal. The chickens are killed as you wait and the fish bonked on demand. Girls and boys pass by me, perfect notable upright posture ( the Vietnamese have the best posture when riding bicycles or motorbikes) and a few older couples are still straggling back from their morning swim, dripping along the street, fully clothed. Here in Da Nang, nearly everybody, at least in this neighborhood, gets up before 5 am (before the sun is up) and head to the beach, in the thousands, to play and swim in the ocean. The men go in their shorts or jeans, the women, fully clothed. They then migrate up the beach, en mass, like turtles after depositing their eggs, back into the urban jungle, hoping onto their motorbikes or walking and dripping home, to start the day with vigor and prosperity.
Although the beach here is 27 km long and very very wide and pristine, hundreds swim in very compact groups. You will see miles of beach and ocean and at sunrise and sunset, black dots of humanity bobbing in the waves. Black bobbing dot, 300 metres of nothing, black bobbing dot, 200 metres of nothing, and so on. At first it really dumbfounded me. I thought it was because Vietnamese never do anything by themselves. Never. You never see one person walking or eating or shopping. They don’t come in individual servings – they come in Costco sized multipacks. So I thought maybe individual swimming would just be too lonely and just not fun. It was only when I went to the beach myself……ok, you can imagine….first, I went midday when it was scorching hot. I found the beach was completely deserted. Completely. No traces that anyone had ever even discovered this stretch. Except that was totally implausible as it is the outer edge of a big beautiful booming city that has hundreds of thousands of people – I know because I saw them all my first night here at the International Fireworks Festival – more on that later….so, no garbage, no cows, (oh, how I miss India!) no pigs, no campsites, no fires, no nothing except massive construction sites and cranes and trucks both directions from my neighborhood beach where mega resorts are being built – concurrently. The Hyatt and the Meridian and Raffles and a whole lot of other mega companies are in full swing here building resorts and villas – it is not only a boom town, a boom country but a boom beach! But for swimmers, in the daytime? Nada. No one. Not even one! You can walk for miles and not come across another soul on the beach in the daytime. So I put down my little wrap and look both ways taking in the incredible beauty of this China Beach – no wonder this is the particular beach the Americans seized for their own during that damn war…..and try and figure out how in the world I can be the only one here…..or maybe, better yet…..Why????? Sharks? Did I miss the "Shark Infested" sign and does everyone know of someone who has been killed here and I am the only one not in the loop? Or maybe toxic waste? My skin will peel off after dipping? Or maybe Jellyfish? Getting stung till your lips swell beyond the size of your face just isn’t worth the relief from the heat? These are the things you…ok, me….think of when I am in strange places and can’t communicate or read the signs. I am always wondering if the last sign on a road says…….bridge out….death imminent in 100 metres…….
So, I whip off my dress and throw caution to the wind…..I seem to do that a lot these days….throw caution to the wind, not whip off my dress, and head, (very nakedly for Vietnam), slowly to the water’s edge…….I still can’t believe my good fortune, or perhaps bad fortune of having one of the most beautiful beaches in the world…..(and remember – I spent January cruising to 8 islands in the Caribbean and I have been around….this is a spectacular beach!)……to myself!!!! The joy, the rapture, the fear!!!! I look both ways to see if my newly exposed flesh is attracting any action…..as it does less and less these days (sigh!)……and still see nobody around. I dip my toe in and ….Shreeeeeeeeeeekkkkk! A whistle blows and a guy comes running at high speed down the beach. He is in red shorts and a long sleeved yellow shirt, waving frantically and blowing his whistle with the same veracity usually saved for horn blowing in roundabouts. I step back. He approaches. Still blowing and still flailing his arms. He spits the whistle out and jabbers at me, explaining something important and obvious. Obvious maybe to others but not to me. He points in both directions of the beach. At something. The beach is 27 kms long and very wide when the tide is out……..hmmmmm…… the man has a whistle and knows how to use it…..what could this message be and where did he come from????? I accompany him and eventually he shows me little flagpoles and tiny little red and yellow flags (like his outfit) that are shoved into the sand about 200 metres down from where I was – I can barely see them. I now see that there are two flags – with a pretty small distance between them and this is the designated safe zone for swimming. He is a lifeguard, I guess on duty today for the slim chance that some stupid idiot will show up from another planet midday and think about swimming in the area….. in the no-go zone, which is almost all of the beach.
Later I heard something about riptides and such but I am more apt to think it is about control. The swarms of folks bobbing about in little sections of the beach, morning and evening – they repeat the same ritual every night after the sun sets, are so tightly controlled by these lifeguards and beach police – (see the photo). You have thousands on the beach, in the water, and whistles blowing and orders being yelled and then you have fully uniformed police with long wooden batons and long taser looking, Starwars type, obee one kenobee swords, chasing kids who are having too much fun, whacking them back into the 'between the flag’ zone.
The reason no one in their right mind would swim midday is…..well, varied. First everyone is up very very early to catch the cool of the day (it is sweltering hot here with very very high humidity). Second, everyone works very hard – mostly physically hard work – from construction work using primitive tools…they still make gravel from breaking big rocks into smaller rocks and well – you get the picture (labor is cheap) and carrying stuff– still use the stick with two baskets for everything, to gathering firewood – lots still cook on stoves made from metal tins with a hole cut into the side where you shove burning wood, to landscaping – at one of the resorts here, in the last two weeks, they have built a 30 foot retaining wall about 200 metres long, by brick, by hand. They then landscaped the area in front of that wall, deposited about 50 full grown palm trees and planted the lawn – one blade at a time – about three football fields big. Hundreds of women, with buckets of individual grass seedlings, on their hunches, moving across the area in unison, planting the grass. They have generations of rice planting experience so this is a piece of cake as you at least don’t get sucked into the mud. Behind them are hundreds more women with buckets of water – sprinkling each plant with water. As I say – labor is cheap and plentiful. The change and speed of construction here is beyond belief.
Da Nang is a planned city – with wide wide streets and large beautifully landscaped roundabouts. It is situated on the Han river –allowing it both the beauty of being a riverside and an oceanside city. The downtown river promenade is sprinkled with sculptures and gardens and whoever has been at the helm of planning this growth has really had a lovely vision. And it is just now coming together.
Just five years ago I think it was mostly just open fields and now it is a very liveable, easy to get around city of bridges and beaches. In five more years it will be far more westernized as tourists start to discover all it has to offer. Now, except for my two friends, I rarely see another western face. So still a trip anywhere elicits a lot of attention. People are far more friendly then I remember in Saigon and Hanoi and most are very welcoming. At first meeting, on the street or in the market, their stares can be quite harsh and intimidating. It is only after I smile at them do they break out into big grins and nod and nod. English is not very widely spoken here so communicating beyond smiling and grinning and older women holding up fingers to try and figure out how old I am….that seems to be a universal desire of people I meet – to try and ascertain my age. Here in Vietnam, the “Where Husband?” thing is not really of interest as I suspect that many of them would choose to dump theirs if they had a chance. As is in many places in the world, the women are doing most of the work. It seems only men have time to sit around in streetside cafes, drinking coffee or drinking beer and gambling.
From 12 to 2 pm the world here comes to an abrupt stop. No matter where people are, they lie down – at the cash register in stores, at the side of the road, on the construction site….you name it, at 12 pm it looks like agent orange has hit again and everybody is felled. Sleep time. I cannot believe how people can sleep, and deeply, – both here and in India, anywhere and everywhere.
The other important reason the throngs are only in the water before sunrise and after sunset is…..yup….sun. Sun is bad. The business around keeping white here is even bigger than the business of westerners trying to keep bronzed. White equals beauty and tanning represents peasantry. This is sadly true in most of the world but really pursued here in Vietnam where beauty and appearance is very important. Even driving on a motorcycle for 99 percent of the female population and about half of the male involves wearing a facemask that covers nearly your complete face. The women add over the elbow gloves, neck bibs, socks (with a space for your flip flop – between the toes – yuck, I hate those) and goggles or big glasses then put on a wide brimmed hat…and then on top of all that, add the helmet!!! It must be sweltering under all that garb. My Easyrider friend told me that he often meets women who wave to him from their scooters and bikes and he has no idea who they are – everyone ends up looking the same – like girly gangsters. They may eventually stay whiter and after all the bleaching crèmes be even whiter when they are old but……they still will be old and no one has seen them when they were young and beautiful…..hmmmmm????
So nobody is at the beach. Except for one lifeguard. And me. Now I stay at the pool, at the beach – best combo.
So my days have passed with my early morning messages from the friends of Ho Chi Minh, tennis early in the morning ( I am home today as I caught a nasty head cold), hanging out after tennis at the 5 star resort where I play, (I sneak time at their pool and spa) and am often the only one there.
After that I walk home to the Vietnamese family we live with, try and make it through the kitchen, which is always active, without having to eat anything gnarly they might be preparing ( often good, but just as often too mysterious and funky for me – I will write about our family later),
meet up with my friends, one who often has to work…….poor girl, and then just generally hang out. I have watched more movies and read more books than I have in years. We sometimes head into the next town – Hoi An, about 40 minutes away by bus or bike where there are more than enough Westerners – in fact just one hour in that tourist town and I start appreciating the real life of DaNang. Other times we just do daily chores or go out exploring on the motorcycle.
I have taken a bike (our family has many) out on my own but am too freaked in the traffic. I am ok on the side streets, but here in Vietnam eventually you have to cross a big road where thousands of bikes are coming in every direction – they don’t just stay on one side or another. Somehow the motorbikes, peddle bikes, cars and trucks, with the help of a lot of horn blowing, weave themselves through the mass and you get to the other side. Roundabouts or traffic circles are everywhere and there is no way I could do these on the bike. Laura and Sharon have them down pat – me – nope, not even going to try. There are no licenses or insurance here in Vietnam so it is every man women and child for themselves. Add to that motorbikes with fridges and car parts and families of five……..then add buses with hundreds and minivans with school kids……nope. So I walk – another bizarre thing here. No one walks. You are born on a bike and then a motorbike so walking bizarre. Let’s face it, I am bizarre and even more bizarre here!!!
The street is now alive outside my window – horns are honking and people are talking and I can hear the occasional horking (spitting), so it is time to take on the day. In fact, a very noisy card game has just broken out below my window – I will take a photo.
Card games are everywhere here – coffee? Cards. Beer? Cards. Maybe they missed today’s message. Life here is lived completely in public – there is no privacy: that makes it possible to have a very intimate view of another culture – especially when you live inside it. I am grateful for this opportunity.
I have a very nice relaxed pace of life here and have come to like Vietnam far more than I had anticipated. I will write a bit about some of things I do and do not like here as I want to remember them later. When I travel so much it is easy to forget some of the small things that stand out at the time.
My friend Sharon is returning to Africa this week and I am planning to move on as well. Laura’s mom is coming from a very small town in Wisconsin – her first big trip and she has been showing Laura, on Skype, how she has been practicing using chopsticks!!!! My cold is nearly finished – tennis tomorrow. Thanks to you who send me updates of what is going on in your lives – I appreciate it and sorry if I do not reply right away or at all. I still really appreciate being in your lives. The power is somewhat sporadic here – the other day we were without power for 14 hours – roaming blackouts. I learned in Hue that the higher up in the Party you are – the less you have to suffer these power losses!!! Wild – they can control electricity individually!!!! I know I would be flying a flag outside every window and playing those anthems loudly if I lived here. Maybe I was card carrying they would allow me to access Facebook. I still have only been able to get access once so I haven’t been able to keep up with those of you on there. Usually I just read up and see what you are doing – like a voyeur. Now I can’t keep up that way. So send me a note if you have a moment.
Now I am about to take on my day with vigor and hopefully, some prosperity…..and hope the same for you as well.
- comments
Arlene Wow Debbo, I love your outfit on the bike, you always did have such good taste!!Sounds like your are really enjoying yourself.L, A
Brad Symington Hi Debbie, thank you so much for sharing your experience. It's a wonderful break in some long days to visit the beaches of Vietnam instead of the sullied dark places of North American police misconduct! Keep those cards & letters coming... I'm enjoying your holiday and the terrific photos immensely. So glad to see and hear you are well and truly happy. Wonderful! Play safe.Brad
Donna Instead of the Travelocity gnome, we have Deb's perfectly manicured feet. She is really doing a tour looking for her big break as a foot double. Big hug Kiddo
Barbara What a good yarn you spin, Deb! About a beach. I was on a beach recently and I probably couldn't fill a sticky note with my observations! Let's see... There was sand, There was water. There were people. I'll have to think on it some more.It's all wonderful! Very inviting...as I read, I could imagine myself there. I'm glad to know you're safe and sound and not neglecting those little tootsies...and I hope you managed to enjoy the GRUEL!On to the next post....Barbara