Hoi An, Vietnam, Part 1
Today we docked outside Da Nang and in the morning took a trip to Hoi An, which is an ancient city about 30 miles outside Da Nang. On the way we discovered that there were very few cars on the road, perhaps 1 car every two blocks. But the roads were bursting at the seams with motorbikes. It seems everyone has a motorbike and everyone had somewhere to go. Men, women, couples with children all on motorbikes. Not only did they use them for transportation, they used them as we would use a pickup truck. We saw them carrying doors, gas tanks, and bundles of stuff larger than they were. Many of the people were wearing masks over their mouths because of the pollution in the air. Most of the women were covered head to foot for fear of darkening their skin, which is not fashionable in Vietnam. The local shops sell long glove-like garments that many of the women wore to cover their arms.
The streets were lined with very tall narrow houses with balconies and lots of gingerbread trim. Most had a shop underneath and almost all of them were painted only on the front; the rest of the house remained unpainted concrete. The streets were very clean with lovely landscaped medians dividing the boulevards. We passed rice paddies, temples, and land that had been cleared to build a new 4-star resort. We were surrounded by mountains with Buddhist temples clinging to the hillside. Many hills had cemeteries at their base and our guide told us that cemeteries were at the back side of the mountains and that when people died it was said that they had “gone behind the mountain”, as we would say they have “passed away”.
Hoi An was a small village that hasn’t changed much over the years, except to become a tourist town. We visited a silk factory first and were fascinated to see the silkworms and learn the tedious process of turning silk from the worm into beautiful fabrics. We saw the young girls in the workrooms embroidering the silks with tiny hand stitches that had to be wreaking havoc on their eyesight.
We set out for a walk around town and came to the indoor village market that the local people use. From the moment we entered until I fell asleep 12 hours later I could not get the smell of that market out of my nose. It was totally nauseating. It seemed to be a combination of dead fish, dirt, manure and rotten vegetables. The market was totally overrun by people and many felt free to drive their motorbikes through the market, beeping for the pedestrians to get out of the way or else be run over. We were dumbstruck but the Vietnamese just took it in stride and moved out of their way. They were selling everything you can think of.
Today we docked outside Da Nang and in the morning took a trip to Hoi An, which is an ancient city about 30 miles outside Da Nang. On the way we discovered that there were very few cars on the road, perhaps 1 car every two blocks. But the roads were bursting at the seams with motorbikes. It seems everyone has a motorbike and everyone had somewhere to go. Men, women, couples with children all on motorbikes. Not only did they use them for transportation, they used them as we would use a pickup truck. We saw them carrying doors, gas tanks, and bundles of stuff larger than they were. Many of the people were wearing masks over their mouths because of the pollution in the air. Most of the women were covered head to foot for fear of darkening their skin, which is not fashionable in Vietnam. The local shops sell long glove-like garments that many of the women wore to cover their arms.
The streets were lined with very tall narrow houses with balconies and lots of gingerbread trim. Most had a shop underneath and almost all of them were painted only on the front; the rest of the house remained unpainted concrete. The streets were very clean with lovely landscaped medians dividing the boulevards. We passed rice paddies, temples, and land that had been cleared to build a new 4-star resort. We were surrounded by mountains with Buddhist temples clinging to the hillside. Many hills had cemeteries at their base and our guide told us that cemeteries were at the back side of the mountains and that when people died it was said that they had “gone behind the mountain”, as we would say they have “passed away”.
Hoi An was a small village that hasn’t changed much over the years, except to become a tourist town. We visited a silk factory first and were fascinated to see the silkworms and learn the tedious process of turning silk from the worm into beautiful fabrics. We saw the young girls in the workrooms embroidering the silks with tiny hand stitches that had to be wreaking havoc on their eyesight.
We set out for a walk around town and came to the indoor village market that the local people use. From the moment we entered until I fell asleep 12 hours later I could not get the smell of that market out of my nose. It was totally nauseating. It seemed to be a combination of dead fish, dirt, manure and rotten vegetables. The market was totally overrun by people and many felt free to drive their motorbikes through the market, beeping for the pedestrians to get out of the way or else be run over. We were dumbstruck but the Vietnamese just took it in stride and moved out of their way. They were selling everything you can think of.
No comments:
Post a Comment