I can't believe I've left Vietnam. I'm now in the air on my way back to Bangkok. It feels unreal - after just a month, Vietnam has begun to feel like home, and it's hard to fathom returning to overly touristed Thailand.
I spent the last couple days in the Mekong Delta, where there are as many rivers and canals as streets, and the water is an intrinsic part of everyday life. It was swelteringly hot,
so the most minor efforts felt Herculean, and everywhere I turned there were new and even more disturbing odors assaulting me. This is actually the Mekong's dry season, so water levels were lower than usual and what's left is stagnant with the smell of sulfur and decaying garbage.
Nevertheless, life on the river is fascinating, with many families living on boats that transport goods between the Delta and Saigon. Peering into their boats, I saw living room, bedroom and kitchen in one -
but no toilet or shower - the river serves that purpose. The river is also where they wash their dishes and food; if nothing else, they benefit from iron stomachs hardened from years of bacterial abuse.
The tour group I was with visited several excessively touristy sites, including coconut candy makers, snake wine makers, rice noodle makers and native musicians. I succumbed to the pressure to buy a few things, but mostly I just tried to observe what was going on beyond the tour.
Then again, though it was clearly tourist-oriented, my favorite part of the trip was paddling in small boats down a narrow canal. A local woman in bare feet squatted at the front of the boat, steering our way through mangrove trees and other boats.
This was the quietest moment I had in two days - all I could hear was the water splashing against the boat, the other boats occasionally bumping against ours, and occasionally friendly exchanges between the boat operators. It reminded me of kayaking, when you're so low to the water that you almost become part of it.
I also enjoyed the floating market, where farmers from around the Delta come to sell their crops on the river. Hundreds of boats crunch together, competing for space and attention among local buyers and tourists alike.
Each family hangs a sampling of their wares from a large stick that rises up from their boat, so that everyone can see exactly what they sell. Some were like supermarkets, offering a full range of fruit and vegetables, while others specialized in just one item.
Toward the end of the trip, the tour group voted and opted to go off the beaten path to a little village and just wander around, instead of going to the rice husking factory (thank goodness).
I really enjoyed seeing ordinary, day-to-day life away from the typical tourist spots, even if in all the wandering around I did get bitten by a red ant. I think they're red because they're angry. Why are you so angry, little ants?
Now that I have finished my time in Vietnam, I can't help but reflect a bit over the last month. It's always hard to say if your experience in a place is good or bad because of the place itself, or because of where you were at mentally and emotionally while you were there. All I can say is that one way or another, I have been happier and felt more like myself in the last month than I have in the last two years. Whether that's due to me, or Vietnam, or both... I guess only time will tell.
P.S. I know it's childish, but I couldn't help but take a photo of this boat (click on the photo to see what I mean)...