Hoi An is known as a sort of retail craft paradise, in part because the locals are known to be able to create quality knockoffs of pretty much anything. In fact, last night we had what one might consider to be a dramatic example of this, when upon returning home from our evening’s wanderings (about which more in a moment) we discovered that the hotel had provided a turndown service and, instead of mints, had left a little packages of Oreos on our pillows. But closer inspection revealed that, despite the virtually identical packaging, they were not Oreos but rather “Creamos”. The package and the cookies themselves looked just like the real deal (except for the wrapper saying “Creamos”), and the cookies tasted just like Oreos, albeit a little thin on the filling. So there you have it: knockoff Oreos.
Speaking of food, there is one item that I forgot to mention yesterday in regard to our cooking lesson of two evenings ago. When one of our group exclaimed “Yum!” upon tasting one of our creations, she was admonished with a wink and a leer not to say that: turns out that “yum” and “yummy” are Vietnamese slang for “horny”. Now you know.
We spent most of yesterday wandering around Hoi An, which in practice meant drifting in and out of souvenir, craft, and clothing stores. It’s one of those places where you can get a good custom suit made in 24 hours for a ridiculously low price, and if I were not retired I probably would have done so. (One member of our group did.) It also meant fending off a nonstop and utterly relentless stream of street vendors, all selling the same two tchotchkes: laser-cut popup greeting cards, and plastic windup birds that flap their wings and fly around for 5 or 10 seconds. The popup greeting card people in particular are implacable; they follow you down the street and into restaurants, and they are everywhere. “One dollah! One dollah!” You can buy them online, though they are admittedly much more expensive than one dollah. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, here’s a typical one:
I was also approached by a perky 20-ish Japanese girl (her name tag was Japanese and her accent was unmistakable) who gave me a bizarre story about being in Vietnam on a business internship involving a project that required developing and selling souvenirs, and would I mind coming in to the store where she worked? I followed her in, having no more urgent priorities, and she proudly produced a bamboo spoon that I should buy. “You can eat soup with it!” she explained brightly. “Yes, I am familiar with the use of a spoon,” I replied, perhaps with unnecessary churlishness. I then broke her heart by regretfully informing her that she would have to complete her internship and return to Japan without any of my money.
We wandered for a while as a group, crossing an old covered bridge of some historical significance, and of course visiting a Buddhist temple or two. The best of these had a spectacular mosaic tile dragon statue in front of it.
After lunch, everyone split up to do their own thing, which in Alice’s case meant shopping and in my case meant looking for places to take pictures. Hoi An sits on the Thu Bon river, and there’s a lot of activity on the river in the form of tourist boats, water taxis, and the like.
The Thu Bon is also the channel by which the fishermen bring their catch to market in town. (I hope to God that they do not actually fish in the river itself; the town does not have a water filtration plant and so everything is flushed into the river.) Phil directed me to the fish market on the river, and I spent a happy hour or two taking photos there.
Note the flags. We’re talking communist fish here.
The market was bustling, crowded, and unsurprisingly smelled like a fish market. One thing that struck me was that every one of the vendors was a woman; market work is considered woman’s work, since the men go out to do the actual fishing. And hard work it is; there were a lot of careworn faces here. Here’s a gallery of several portraits that I took long distance with a telephoto lens; the subjects did not know that I was photographing them. (Click on the thumbnails to see the full size images.)
After I had been there for a while, it started to rain. Then it started to pour. It rained monsoon-like buckets for a 45 minutes or so, so I just meandered in the market and took a couple of shots out into the rain, like these two.
It eventually let up enough for me to venture outside with a rain slicker and an umbrella that I had wisely brought along in my backpack. I rendezvoused with Alice and the rest of the group at the prearranged meeting point, she feeling well satisfied at having picked up some suitably classy gifts for the folks back home.
We returned to the hotel, lounged for a while, and came back to the town just after sunset to find some dinner and take in the night scene, which is lively. There’s a tremendous amount of activity both on the river and in the side streets; the shopping and the restaurant scene is going full blast, and everything is lit by lanterns. Boats on the river are all lit with lanterns as well, and there are floating candles drifting downstream. It’s a riot of light and color and yeasty activity.
We are on our own tonight, so we will probably go back and wander around some more, weather permitting. We leave Hoi An and our snazzy resort hotel tomorrow morning to catch an early afternoon flight to the coastal city of Nha Trang for the next leg of our journey.