Vietnam has a special day to commemorate their war dead and all those who participated in uniting Vietnam. It’s 26 July. We stop at a memorial site just outside Buon Ma Thout. There is a huge statue representing women, tribal people’s and soldiers, under two flags – the Vietnam flag and the hammer and sickle of the rural class and laborers. Into a marble wall is etched the names of fighters who gave their lives in the American War. Any war memorial encourages solemn and thoughtful moments and this one is no different. Each name represents a family torn apart by loss of loved ones and the families denied a chance at all. I feel the emotion despite the role my country played in these names being here.
Hero and I are heading north. Travelling this way as pillion on a bike with a local guide has huge advantages for me. I’m here to experience Vietnam, not just see it. The back of the bike provides a 3-dimensional experience for me. I get uninterrupted views (except for directly in front which is a good thing), the smells, the waves and greetings from curious onlookers (and ‘what are you about’ from some), and a running commentary from my guide. We stop anywhere of interest or for photographs. There are risks of course, being on a bike and very second class to the arrogant buses and cars but so far so good. The roads are in very poor condition so travel is slow.
We call into a family to have a look at their multi-layerd business. There are coffee trees and pepper bushes in the field. In the shed is a rice-whiskey distillery right next to pens of the happiest looking pigs I’ve ever seen. Perhaps the fumes from the whiskey distillery have something to do with it! The pigs get fed the by-product of the distilling process. They have one of those funny tractors and its a chance to see one up close. These Chinese-made beasts are a very common work horse in rural Vietnam. I get a go at the controls. The seat is just a wooden board! They must be bloody uncomfortable. Hero tells me they were a poor family but have done well through hard work and ingenuity. It’s nice to see.
Hero got a speeding ticket today. We were cruising through Pleiku at the same pace as other vehicles but we were singled out and Hero thinks its because he is carrying a tourist. He tells me to wait by the bike while he takes the policeman aside for a one-on-one chat. Speeding can come with a tough fine and confiscation of license so Hero opens his wallet and the policeman helps himself! This is the way it’s done here he explains later. Pleiku is a pretty city and is nicknamed Da Lat 2. It was a significant base for the Americans during the War.
We pull over at a rubber plantation. Luckily they are loading the harvest into bulk tankers so there is a great photo opportunity. What a curious business. There are countless trees in perfect rows bleeding their precious sap into cups. Collectors move through the trees and pour the cup contents into buckets before bringing the laden buckets back to the tanker for weighing. The smell is interesting and Hero reminds me it is the scent of making love! Trees are 7-years old before they are ready to harvest and finish their life at 35 years, when they are replaced.
It’s a big day and we arrive at our hotel just on sun down. We are in Kon Tum. It was heavily damaged in the War and is in an area of poor soils so production potential is weak. The people are relatively poor here I’m told. Productivity hasn’t been helped by the on-going effects of agent orange, which was used prolifically in this region. The town has been slow to develop but to my eye it is certainly catching up. There is much construction happening and a beautiful river provides an attractive centre piece.
The nightlife, in my part of town at least, is alive and relaxed. The people here are very friendly. From dinner I walk back by the river and there is a comfortable river-side cafe culture amongst the young. They’re there in numbers, eating and drinking and having fun. From my fourth-story balcony looking down I see young kids playing in the streets, avoiding the traffic with some uncanny skill. They must learn this as soon as they start walking. A wayward soccer ball is playfully rounded up by a passing bike rider and kicked back to the children. The sky is clear, the moon is full and it’s a very pleasant cool.
angusmccoll 