It is the fifth day of Tet (they count from New Years Eve) and the holidays continue. Officially shops should reopen today, but unofficially most have not, so the streets are still quiet, but now the debris from the parties for the Party last night are increasingly joined by discarded ‘cherry’ blossom trees (in reality they’re peach but the colour is the same!) as households begin to strip down the decorations and ready themselves for reality. Recycling takes place here on a privatised basis-men and women push loaded bicycles competing to collect as much waste as possible-but the trees are obviously not saleable as they’re going into the council dust truck!
This morning my lovely friend Hank collected me on her scooter early to join her high school gang at their reunion breakfast at a street café. ..Although I couldn’t face the meat filled bowl of noodles. None of them can fully understand vegetarians-because I’ve simply had to eat fish or risk offending people, their choice for my bowl was ‘snail’ soup-I had to explain that this was meat to me, but I can actually see why it’s confusing-as they said, ducks swim on water so why don’t I eat that!
Much laughter, luckily, and off we set on the bikes, all plus me with helmets/facemask, zipping along the streets (if this is quiet, I’ m not sure about seeing busy!) until we reached the far shores of the massive West Lake, where we went on a pilgrimage to the holy Temple . This particular Temple is very auspicious, dedicated to the ancestors who founded the village on the lake, and many come to worship, so the streets leading into the complex were lined with stalls selling tokens, gifts for the gods.
We bought incense and joined the throng…the etiquette here is that everyone pushes to the front, giving more and asking for better luck than the next person-which seems somewhat unholy to my western eyes-so even standing still to pray is difficult!
I took my incense sticks, waved them three times to silently let the gods that be known my name, where I came from and what I wanted, sent up the prayer, and then waved three times to say goodbye to the gods-as instructed. This process starts at the main temple, and then has to be repeated at the left and then the right side altars if at the temple though can be done anywhere.
Exhausted from the madness and the smoke-the Government is keen to limit the traditional three incense sticks to one for environmental reasons, and I can see why!-we shuffled down the ‘food’ alley to enjoy the special food associated with this temple, shrimp cakes, fried shrimp bites , served with a bowl of papaya sauce and salad. Absolutely fabulous, if very fattening-not easy to eat with chopsticks either, but I’m getting it-having to bite the large lumps with my teeth still seems odd, but I can do the actual picking up bit!
Back into the city and down a local alley which the girls know well, and we adopt the local practice of just sitting. See pics of us sitting, enjoying jasmine tea. Followed by tamarind tea…followed by coconut jelly tea……….followed by a very odd dish which translates in English as ‘cowfish’, dried fish strips dipped into chilli. See pic. I loathed it, much to everyone’s amusement…so Thao produced from her bag some jam for me. This turned out to be lumps of pineapple jelly wrapped in clingfilm to make sweets, a brilliant idea which I shall do when back in Lewes, she’s given me a recipe.
The bathroom situation was awkward-the street stalls have one tucked away in the kitchen, but it only has a urinal, which everyone uses! So that is one to chalk up to experience, and at least now I know it’s acceptable for the ladies to use the gents here-gives a whole new meaning to unisex loos!!
Fuelled by sugar we strolled the tiny market streets of the old quarter, where I was able to browse without hassle guarded by my posse, who told me the correct ways and prices. Sitting on stalls at each stall we nosed through embroidery, paintings, shoes, handbags…and food. The more local shops are indicated only by a shelf holding a symbolic item-the carved cooked chicken in the picture I now know is to beckon in those looking to buy jars of meat for stock. Hanc has got 4 jars to take back to England-our food tastes bland to her and I can understand why.
This morning my lovely friend Hank collected me on her scooter early to join her high school gang at their reunion breakfast at a street café. ..Although I couldn’t face the meat filled bowl of noodles. None of them can fully understand vegetarians-because I’ve simply had to eat fish or risk offending people, their choice for my bowl was ‘snail’ soup-I had to explain that this was meat to me, but I can actually see why it’s confusing-as they said, ducks swim on water so why don’t I eat that!
Much laughter, luckily, and off we set on the bikes, all plus me with helmets/facemask, zipping along the streets (if this is quiet, I’ m not sure about seeing busy!) until we reached the far shores of the massive West Lake, where we went on a pilgrimage to the holy Temple . This particular Temple is very auspicious, dedicated to the ancestors who founded the village on the lake, and many come to worship, so the streets leading into the complex were lined with stalls selling tokens, gifts for the gods.
We bought incense and joined the throng…the etiquette here is that everyone pushes to the front, giving more and asking for better luck than the next person-which seems somewhat unholy to my western eyes-so even standing still to pray is difficult!
I took my incense sticks, waved them three times to silently let the gods that be known my name, where I came from and what I wanted, sent up the prayer, and then waved three times to say goodbye to the gods-as instructed. This process starts at the main temple, and then has to be repeated at the left and then the right side altars if at the temple though can be done anywhere.
Exhausted from the madness and the smoke-the Government is keen to limit the traditional three incense sticks to one for environmental reasons, and I can see why!-we shuffled down the ‘food’ alley to enjoy the special food associated with this temple, shrimp cakes, fried shrimp bites , served with a bowl of papaya sauce and salad. Absolutely fabulous, if very fattening-not easy to eat with chopsticks either, but I’m getting it-having to bite the large lumps with my teeth still seems odd, but I can do the actual picking up bit!
Back into the city and down a local alley which the girls know well, and we adopt the local practice of just sitting. See pics of us sitting, enjoying jasmine tea. Followed by tamarind tea…followed by coconut jelly tea……….followed by a very odd dish which translates in English as ‘cowfish’, dried fish strips dipped into chilli. See pic. I loathed it, much to everyone’s amusement…so Thao produced from her bag some jam for me. This turned out to be lumps of pineapple jelly wrapped in clingfilm to make sweets, a brilliant idea which I shall do when back in Lewes, she’s given me a recipe.
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| Tea time |
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| Cowfish Strips |
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| Pineapple Jelly Sweets |
Fuelled by sugar we strolled the tiny market streets of the old quarter, where I was able to browse without hassle guarded by my posse, who told me the correct ways and prices. Sitting on stalls at each stall we nosed through embroidery, paintings, shoes, handbags…and food. The more local shops are indicated only by a shelf holding a symbolic item-the carved cooked chicken in the picture I now know is to beckon in those looking to buy jars of meat for stock. Hanc has got 4 jars to take back to England-our food tastes bland to her and I can understand why.
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| Shop Sign - take Stock |
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