Visa Day, Bat ca day and Party day.
Visa day for Dung. Off to HCMC, yet again after eating pho bo. We have managed to avoid HCMC for a month, but now it is back to the very, hot, very dusty moto rally that is HCMC. It is fun in a perverse way and very crazy in a normal way. You need all 3 sets of eyes in the traffic, forget road markings and traffic lights, it “he who dares wins”, see the gap and hit it, let the others worry about the consequences. I should come here for a day on my own. I still don't know my way around, because I just take directions. Mind you, one day could turn into 2 or 3 as I try to find my way out. Forget road signs, they are for airheads who don't know where they are going.
Anyway, we made it to the Consulate. They are very friendly and helpful here. Last time we came they said you have to go to Hanoi for the first visa and again today they told the woman in front of us the same. What are these Brits like?? You have to book the appointment online, so I'd think if this is your first visa, to chose Ho Chi Minh City as your appointment location would be forbidden. BUT, there are only 2 locatioins to chose from on the website. 1 is HCMC and the other is HCMC, but very cleverly, if you chose one it gives an address in Hanoi, so if you fail to notice that you'll probably be late for your appointment. Am I being too much of a grump to ask for them to put a big notice at the beginning of the very long online form to say that all 1st visa applicants must go to Hanoi????? Why they have to is beyond me, but come on, this is the British foreign office diplomatic thing, perhaps there are some hangovers from the Commonwealth rules the world days. Do as we say and don't ask why. Grump, grump, grump. It took 3 hours to fill in the online visa application and about 30 minutes in the office, for them to check our documentation they ask for and to tell us that the application goes to Hanoi first. They may phone to ask some more questions and then it goes to Bangkok to be authorised. Why?? Don't ask me, I'm a grumpy old man. 6 to 8 weeks and we should get it back, if all goes smoothly.
A quick visit to the Qatar Airways office and a straight faced grumpy young lady. I was checking out if we have sufficient airmiles to use to come back to Manchester. Only 60,000 short. I must have used the website wrong. I had high hopes, although I did think it rather generous, when I calculated a free flight was in order. Never mind, the air conditioning was good.
Off to one of HCMC's many markets next to check out getting some trousers made. We bought the material, 12 quid for enough to make 2 pairs. It says it is cashmere wool, but it says Armani on my sunglasses case and 6 quid for some sunglasses makes me doubt it. They are good though and the material seems good too. What do I know? Precisely. The lady said it is a fiver tops to get the trousers made. WE WILL SEE.
Starting to melt now, so we called in at Auntie Thay's to see Nam, her 5 month old son and then back to Duc Hoa for a kip in the afternoon heat.

Today is “bat ca” day, Binh has decided. We went for some pho bo, but had hu tieu bo kho, like braised beef, noodles and a healthy amount of fat, if you want to peg it early this is the food to speed you on your way. Then to the market. I strolled around while Dung did the serious shopping. I get a big, mixed, bag of looks as I saunter and wiggle and sway through the stalls. Most are inquisitive smiles. About all the things you need to survive are sold here and mostly cheap. I bought some soup spoons for 25p. Why?? Beats me. They are good to eat pho etc. with, a souvenir. I really pushed the boat out then and got some toothpaste and soap.
When we got back the pond was down by about a foot. He is pumping it into his brothers pond, next door and later we all plodge into the pond and take the fish out. I was told they'll be kept in a big water bowl type urn, type cannister, sort of thing and eaten on demand. He will then stock the pond with some fish that are nicer to eat and when they grow big enough, they will be eaten too. The new stock comes from Uncle Dung, all a family affair. It is supposed to be good fun going in and hoiking out the fish. I'll let you know, about 2 hours to plodge off.
Been updating the CV to day and trying to remember what it was I did all those months ago. It is not easy, or perhaps that is a psychological thing, but either way, I have to go back to work soon. All good things ….....................
I miss the sport when I'm out here, as well as the family of course. I was just making conversation, not trying to upset anyone. I had gotten back into the sport when I was back. I'll try and catch the early kick off tomorrow, but there is a big party tomorrow. It happens every 3 years and is for the people with surname Nguyen, which is about 50% of Vietnamese. It costs 200 VND, about £8 a family, free nosh and booze, so I am led to believe. Again I will let you know.
As the pond emptied, I began to have my doubts about whether I would be able to get back out, if I got in and chickened out in the end. I guess I haven't gone as native as I thought. Perhaps it was a good thing. I think I would have been arse over tit more than once. Considering how many fish top to feed, there are not a lot brought out. Some decent catfish, up to about a kilo. Lots of small stuff and some decent ca yo. They are a strange looking fish, but taste pretty good.
I try to help out sorting the fish, but am told they are very dangerous. I think that is just a lack of English. Dung is off picking her auntie up, so I don't have a translator. I gave up in the end and went for a shower. Binh and Luan don't give up though. Binh is back in with the mains on a bamboo stick fishing rod, zapping the fish. Before this, they are elbow deep in the mud, dragging fish out. The catfish are very adept at hiding in the mud and when found by someone, they shoot out of the mud to be chased and caught by hand. These are reportedly the dangerous ones. They have barbs behind their fins. Dung tells me, if you get caught with them, your hand swells up and you wont be able to sleep tonight. She does have a flare for the dramatic though.
So, a shower it was and then while the others sort the fish out, I gave a quick IT lesson to Nhu, from next door, on the verandah. Then it was tea time and guess what was on the menu. Wrong! Beef. I'm 50% kidding. It was not certain the pond would be attacked when we went to the market, so we had some beef and some fish and it was all delicious.

PARTY DAY
Today is the Nguyen party. There's a bit of hustle going on to get it ready by the shrine. The tables and stools are put in the field under a great big tree, which type of tree I don't know. The Vietnamese from kids seem to know all the tree types, herbs and vegetables. I know an oak, but only when it has leaves on. I think we used to know such things, but it is a dying knowledge in us Europeans, or the Brits anyway. We were out the other day with auntie Ut and uncle Dung and walked passed a tree that Ut didn't recognise, which lead to a discussion for a few minutes. As we walk along or drive on the moto, you can see people checking the vegetation out, or in Dung's case, the food stalls along the road. She can eat for Vietnam and so is getting a belly and so has purchased a hula hoop. Not the namby pamby plastic ones like at home, this is 3 bamboo hoops taped together and leaves a bruise on the hip after the first usage. Dung's cousin can hula for fun, she walks down the road hulaing, she's 8 and her Mam made her do it to get rid of her belly, now she loves it and happily shows off her skills.
Anyway back to the party. There was entertainment laid on a woman, or perhaps a man dancer, the choice is definitely up for debate, either way, I am told it is a dying art in Vietnam. She/he is a dancer, come juggler, come balancing act, come fortune teller. If you cross her palm with silver, he will tell you that life is to be great, or better than it has been. She is pretty good an must be at least 50 and has been doing it since she was 16, so is famous in the area, if poor. I think the opportunities to perform are limited.
There's a table of old fellas eating the supplied fayre, of binh mi (baguettes), roast pig and vegetables, not to mention the ubiquitous ruou. Binh has been checking the ruou out religiously and is 3 sheets to the wind now, with the ruou grin permanently on display. One of the old fellas asks me to go and sit with them. I don't know whether to take it as an insult or a compliment. I do really, it is a big compliment, but I was saved by the dancer starting. It is good to sit with the old blokes, but I don't have a clue what they are saying and Dung isn't allowed to sit there, although I dare say they would make an exception if it was pushed. They all seem to be having a good time and the food is going down well with the banter. The local wise man presented me with a flower, a chrysanthemum actually, but I can't spell chrysanthemum, so we'll say flower. He is a local choice along the lines of Solomon. If there are any disputes between or within families, he adjudicates. It is not a choice for money, or of the wealthy, this man is poor, but extremely friendly and smiley. It gets passed down within the family if the people are willing. It used to be Dung's great grandad, but her grandad didn't want the post, so the current man has it. Uncle Hep seems to be the people's choice as successor, at the moment. Opinions seem to change quickly within Vietnam.
We left everyone to it. People come and go all day and some stay all day. It started at dawn and probably before and will end towards sunset, so a full 12 hours for the hardy drinkers and eaters.