Meeting our sponsored child (part 4!)

I really enjoyed spending time with M's family, in their environment, in the relatively deep countryside that travelling 3 hours out of Hanoi takes you to. 

So, it turns out that pineapples don't go 'peep peep', but chicks do...

Goat pen, Vietnamese style.

However, there wasn't enough time in the day to ponder the meaning of life in this peaceful interlude.  We had to be back to our hotel in Hanoi that evening, and it seemed that no sooner had we arrived at the pineapple field then we turned around and started to head back.

I think we were told that the pineapple field was near M's parent's cousin's house.  So on the way back we saw their goats, and passed by what I assumed was an outside toilet on the way to the yard of the cousin's house.

Quite a smart privy

On the way to the cousin's yard - no idea why they stack the straw like that!

When we got to the yard, the pineapples were topped and tailed and put into a sack to give to us!  We were slightly embarrassed by this gesture of generosity/hospitality, but didn't want to offend M's family by declining their kindness.  However there was no way we could take all the pineapples they'd offered us, so we compromised and accepted seven!  There was no way we could store them or prepare them when we got back, and they certainly couldn't fit in our suitcases, but we decided that we would worry about that later.

Where did you get that hat?

As we were leaving the yard, M's father offered Tom a lift on his motorbike.  No helmets, pineapple sack balanced on the bike between his legs, and off they went.  I'm sure this was Tom's favourite part of the holiday so far!

 So they went off first, and we followed on.... little expecting to meet a Manchester United fan on the way (the boy, not the cow)!  

As we neared M's house I took a last shot of it to remind us of how remote it was, yet how connected and small a world it is that we all live in.

After the walk, back at M's family house, being given tea and pineapple that had just been picked from their field.  Their neighbour was still drinking the rice wine, and Tom was worried they'd make him eat pineapple, which he doesn't like....

The final photo of us with M and her family (not her mum, she came with us in the taxi-bus back into town for some reason... oh yes, she plied Tom with a bag of raw sugar-cane as she thought he was too pale and needed some energy!)

So, although the day for us didn't end here, we still had to travel back to Hanoi, travelling the same roads we'd come on so as to drop off all the officials where we picked them up, this was the end of our actual meeting with M and her family. 

I hope the photographs speak for themselves, as I'm struggling to find words adequate enough to express how I felt.  Humbled and enormously grateful for the opportunity to meet with a genuine Vietnamese family.  This wasn't just another tick box experience of the Vietnamese tourist.  This was a wonderful opportunity to cross cultures, and build memories - on both sides.

Kat.
 

Meeting our sponsored child (part three)

Poverty is relative.  Happiness is where you find it.  You can be 'poor' and happy, and 'rich' and unhappy.  M's family live in relative poverty.  They have a home and land which they farm.  They have a motorbike and pedal bikes and mobile phones.  They invited us into their home, which by our standards, was basic but sound and dry.  We didn't see their kitchen, bathroom or laundry facilities, but the impression I got was the water came from a well, and they had mains electricity.

the building to the right, behind the Honda, is the cooking area.  Tom was kicking around as we gathered to go for a walk...



You can see our taxi-bus in the middle-distance, so the access road is along the line of trees.  I didn't ask what the bricks were intended for... although we learned that M's father had built the house/complex himself about 15 years ago, so maybe there's work still to finish.

These buildings were opposite the kitchen/cooking area - I'm guessing they were bathroom/washing/laundry areas - they hang washing on hangers along the suspended bamboo pole under the eaves

Back to the meal.  There was a practical part I've never seen before, but which I could understand having seen the basic amenities available.  M's father offered us his home-made rice wine with lunch.  He had a tray with water tumbler glasses on it, but before he poured the wine he first cleaned the glasses.  He poured a half-glass full into a tumbler, swished it around and then poured it into the next tumbler.  He methodically passed the wine from glass to glass, swilling it around each one.  By this method he ensured the glasses had all been rinsed, in front of us, before then filling the glasses and offering us a drink.  The swilled liquid he stepped outside the front door and threw away.  It must rid the glasses of dust, and save carrying clean items through the dusty yard only to become dusty en route.  He did the same procedure with the tea we had when returned from our walk.

After lunch had been eaten we were invited to go for a walk with the family to see their pineapple field.  It was explained that this field was about 15 minutes away, so off we set.  I don't know the reason why, but at this point we left the officials behind.  Just us, M and her parents, and our interpreter.

 



going down the road we'd driven up on

they cultivate wherever they can - pineapples on the hillside, paddi fields below

The opportunity to walk through the countryside with M's family was a simple pleasure I will never forget.  Whilst they were in a remote situation they had everything they needed, and their needs (education/health) were met in the commune.  Although M's parents were self-employed farmers, and their work was hard, they seemed content with their lot and were very happy and proud to take us to their pineapple field and show us what they had.

rice paddi with twigs for fencing

M's family pineapple field

harvesting

from the pineapple field - looking back up the road we'd walked down from M's house

There was so much to see, and questions which went unasked at the time, but which the landscape answered by looking at it.  I can only imagine what it's like in the rainy season, but the fertility is obvious.

To be continued.... obviously!
Kat  :)

 

 

Meeting our sponsored child (part two)

After we'd seen the three schools, given the gifts and taken photographs, we got back into our bus-taxi to be taken to meet our sponsored child M.  We've sponsored M. for almost 5 years, and have received regular updates on both the project work done by Plan International in M.s district, and have received letters, drawings and photographs by and of M. and her family.  The anticipation of finally meeting her was palpable.  My hands were damp, my mouth was dry and my heart was racing a little.  I was ready to cry.

The taxi took us out of the town area, and along an ever narrower road, into denser vegetation, away from the population to a small village crossroads.  We saw the concrete drainage ditches put in with Plan's aid (there was a sign with the Plan logo on it).  Ah ha, I thought, as we stopped, we must be here.  No.  The village elder climbed aboard, and off we went, leaving the village's good road behind.

We were now bumping along on a very dusty red-mud single track road, with ruts where the rains must run in the wet season.  There was lush undergrowth close by, banana trees, some walls of properties here and there, and no sign of where we were going at all.  A couple of motorbikes came across us, but we were the only vehicle on the track, and a significant vehicle at that.

We finally got M.'s house and the taxi pulled into a small slip in front of a grassy driveway - which was just as well as a tractor approached from the opposite direction.  We all got out of the taxi, and our interpreter introduced us to M. and her family.

The first photo I took at M's house is of hens...

In all the fuss of being introduced, and saying 'Sin Chow', and shaking hands, and smiling, and high-fiving with M, and being photographed, and invited inside for a drink, I didn't take nearly as many photographs myself as I'd have liked.  But there was also the exquisite embarrassment of not wanting to offend M's family by taking too many photographs.  This was when the language barrier and the cultural gulf felt most awkward.  Not oppressively, but this was a situation where I had absolutely no idea of how to behave, of what was expected and of what was acceptable and equally not acceptable.

M's mother had prepared a meal for us all - a feast in fact, as there were by now about 10 people in the entourage, plus the guests that M's family had also invited.  We were obviously a big attraction ourselves.  M's father gave us his home-made rice wine to drink with the meal (the cloudy bottle), which tasted mainly of ginger, and had a dry kick to it.  He was very happy to keep proposing a toast to us, and whenever we had an empty glass it had to be filled again.  The same went with the food.  Whenever our bowls were empty, M's mother would offer us something else and was determined to put something in our bowl.

We'd got over the indiscretion of us being vegetarian by the children eating some chicken, and us eating the greens and they made us a quick omelette.  The rice we were served was their own - grown in their fields - and was plump, with a good bite, and a slightly nutty flavour - delicious.

With M in their main room - sleeping area behind us

M's parents.  Don't know what was behind the curtain.  The Vietnamese officials travelling with us were seated on matting on the floor behind M's father and ate there whilst we had the benches and table.

M's parents were lovely.  The were in their mid 40s and had 3 other older children, now all left home and working elsewhere.  They looked us squarely in the eye and smiled broadly.  We could see their lives etched into their faces, and they were honest and happy, hard-working and straight-forward.  I felt lucky to have met them.  It was a moving experience and we were overwhelmed with their kindness of spirit towards us.

The view out from the door of their building/house.  They lived in a small complex of buildings around the courtyard.  The bicycle is what M. travels to school on - 30 minutes ride away up and down the dusty red-earth track.

That's all for tonight.  More adventures next time.

Kat.