Public displays of affection between men and women are quite rare among Vietnamese people – in daylight at least – but it’s not unusual to see friends of the same sex, men or women, holding hands or being otherwise touchy-feely. I’m not sure if these two were laughing at me, at each other, or at something else entirely.
(Taken last month in Vinh Long, in the Mekong delta)
Regular readers will know that I’ve spent the last three and a half months or so following the Mekong river from Yunnan province in China, through Laos and Cambodia, and into the Mekong delta in the south of Vietnam. That trip has now come to an end, and it’s time for me to get back to real life, and the business of finding a job and somewhere to live. And that’s where a big change comes in: having lived in Saigon since the end of 2011, I’m moving back to Hanoi. Hanoi is where I lived for more than two years when I first came to Vietnam, and it’s the place in the country where I feel most at home. People in the south tend to look at me like I’m crazy when I say I prefer life in the north, and it’s not really something I can explain logically; all I can say is that it’s a move that feels right for me.
The pictures above were taken during a quick visit to Hanoi back in April. I might not be posting any new pictures for a while, but there are still more to come from the Mekong trip. I’ll still be taking pictures in Hanoi, but I want to build up a bit of a collection, and get the rest of the Mekong pictures out of my system, before sharing anything new.
If I could only take pictures in one kind of location, it would be the streets and markets of Vietnam. Can Tho, the main city of the Mekong delta, is best known for the nearby floating markets, but the dry land city streets are where I found the pictures that I like the most. While I enjoyed the experience of visiting the floating markets by boat, I didn’t come back from those trips with the pictures that I wanted. Maybe I’m just more comfortable with solid ground beneath my feet, being able to move where I want, rather than having to make the best of the boat’s position.
I spent a fair amount of time in Can Tho relaxing on the waterfront, watched over by a giant statue of Uncle Ho, but found time in the early mornings and late afternoons to wander the nearby side-streets and markets. I seem to have been particularly drawn to strong reds, greens and blues during my stay. The original old market building now houses a riverfront restaurant and assorted souvenir stalls, so the market for fresh meat, fish, fruit and vegetables has spilled out onto the adjacent streets.
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… but they might be the most photogenic. I got a little obsessed with the little hairy blighters while in Vinh Long, the rambutan capital of Vietnam (probably).
Oh, and they taste nice as well, very much like lychees.
[And apologies to email subscribers who received a draft version of this post without any pictures in it.]
Can Tho market, Mekong delta, Vietnam
Every town and city in Vietnam has at least one metal street, where you can buy engine parts, rivets, girders and other metal things I don’t know the names of. Can Tho’s metal street is actually two fairly short, very narrow intersecting alleyways, a stone’s throw and a million miles from the scenic waterfront. Sparks fly. Buzzing and clanging sounds fill the air. Tiny, cramped booths offer all manner of hardware for sale, and men – it’s nearly all men – saw, weld and solder in open-fronted workshops.
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I could post a whole series of pictures of men playing checkers in the street – and perhaps I will at some point – but for now, here’s just one photograph from Can Tho.
Cantonese Congregation Pagoda, Can Tho
When I come to look back on this trip, some of my best memories will be from Chau Doc. It’s a riverside town, sitting on the banks of the Bassac – also known as the Hau – river, a branch of the Mekong (which gets very complicated round these parts). Many families depend on fishing and river trade for their livelihoods, and whole communities live in stilt houses that hover perilously over the water. These neighbourhoods look ramshackle and fragile from a distance, and life here is certainly far from luxurious, but there’s a tangible sense of community in these narrow alleyways. I guess that you have to get along with your neighbours when you live so close together, and the climate obliges you to spend much of your time outdoors. Hammocks are suspended in porches, a mirror image of their opposite neighbours, just feet away. The exterior walls are made of corrugated metal, but the homes inside are spotless and the people houseproud.
The alleyways themselves are built on stilts and sway slightly underfoot.
Loitering at the dry land end of one of these alleyways, camera in hand, I suddenly found myself with a new friend. The nice man above gestured for me to follow him. He showed me his home, and introduced me to his neighbours. The camera creates wonderful experiences for me sometimes.
More pictures from the very splendid town of Chau Doc, in the Mekong delta in southern Vietnam.
Without an H 