Vietnam — Navigating the mighty Mekong
by Inga Aksamit, San Rafael, CA
“This is a river that could keep us busy for years,” uttered my husband, Steve, who has a fascination with rivers. We began our exploration of the Mekong River on our first trip to Vietnam, in the summer of 2008, an exploration that will span many trips to come as we unlock the secrets of this undulating waterway that moves through China, Burma, Thailand, Laos and Cambodia.
Scouring the lands of many dialects, the river brings both opportunity and destruction at its terminus in Vietnam, more than 2,000 miles from its headwaters in the Tibetan Plateau. From a trickle in 17,000-foot-high snowcapped mountains down through thundering gorges and broad, liquid highways, the Mekong River exhausts itself in the nine distributaries that make up the Mekong Delta before emptying its caramel-colored waters into the South China Sea.
Opportunities abound in the nutrient-rich flatlands of the delta that produce an abundance of crops, but the rainy seasons regularly generate uncontrollable floods that claim lives and disrupt commerce.
Saigon
Arriving in the bustling metropolis of Ho Chi Minh City, still known as Saigon to the locals, we set off seeking Kim Travel (270 De Tham; fax +848 836 9859, www.kimtravel.com), noted in our guidebook as having long-standing experience in setting up independent tours in the Mekong Delta.
We chose a 3-day, 2-night tour which, at $106 for two and including boat trips, an air-conditioned bus, an English-speaking guide, entrance fees and a stay at a mini-hotel, seemed an excellent value.
That settled, we picked up a few things from the bustling open-air market, enjoyed bowls of noodles with savory chunks of pork and giant, sweet, steamed prawns and threaded through nightmarish traffic to our hotel. We pared down our three daypacks to two small daypacks, leaving the largest at the hotel.
We congratulated ourselves many times over the next few days as we clambered from unsteady docks to small watercraft to vans with limited baggage space, watching others labor under giant duffel bags or huge wheelies.
River ride
Early the next morning, after Steve bought a freshly fried, crisp donut from a street vendor, we chugged up the Saigon River on a motorboat, merging eventually with the Mekong River.
The 3-hour trip passed quickly as life on the river unfolded before us. First reflecting industrious city life, with many motorboats, ships and densely clustered shanties built over the river on stilts, the view gave way to residential areas, with laundry hung out to dry over the river and children splashing in the muddy, milk-chocolate waters.
Partway through our journey, we stopped for fuel at a riverside gas station. The captain grabbed the hose, squatted on the deck while filling the tank and casually lit a cigarette. I waited patiently for the explosion, but events proceeded uneventfully and we were on our way.
Three hours later we disembarked in My Tho, where we transferred to a smaller boat to traverse the narrow channels to Ben Tre, a low-lying rice bowl of the Mekong. A network of tributaries and canals laces this province, accessible only by boat.
We threaded our way down a slim path and made a few stops to see some unusual sights. After observing and handling honey bees and boa constrictors, we sipped lemon tea made from tiny lemons, munched on snacks and sampled rice wine and snake wine, the latter a bit earthy for my taste, not to mention how unnerving it was seeing a glass jar crammed with a long, coiled snake.
Steve bought packages of peanut snacks and dried ginger to tide him over during those rare times when a street vendor wasn’t available.
We continued down the path to taste a variety of tropical fruits, enjoying sweet papaya, pineapple, pomelo and sapodilla, a soft orange fruit with the consistency of a nectarine. Here we had our first exposure to longan, a lychee-like fruit that looks like an eyeball when peeled. We enjoyed the clear, delicately sweet flesh and subsequently ate them by the kilo.
Continuing on
We were then ushered onto small wooden canoes piloted by women using long, flat oars to propel us through narrow, intertwined canals thickly lined with tropical foliage. It was quiet and peaceful listening to the plop and gurgle of the poles plunging into the water, and perhaps a bit eerie as my memory flashed to images from the movie “Apocalypse Now.”
Our next stop, at a coconut candy-making operation, was, somewhat surprisingly, fascinating. We appreciated the many steps required to turn coconut into candy, starting with grinding and pressing the raw coconut meat, then mixing it into a thick paste. After rolling the paste into a form to let it harden, workers cut it into small pieces like dominoes, then it’s wrapped with edible rice paper and packaged.
Steve, ever the “coco” lover, was hooked and bought a supply large enough to last long after the trip was over. We added this to our growing supply of snacks.
Yet another boat ride delivered us to lunch on the banks of interlacing canals, where we dined under the watchful gaze of a water buffalo wallowing contentedly in the muddy waters. We ate a simple meal of fried rice and young coconut, followed by a snooze in hammocks strung under the banana trees, eschewing the option of bicycling to a nearby village in the blistering noonday sun.
Can Tho and Cai Rang
A 3-hour drive in a comfortable van put us in Can Tho after dark. Our mini-hotel, Xuan Mai Mini Hotel (17 Dien Bien Phu St., Can Tho; phone 071 823578), was definitely mini, but it was equipped with a window, a comfortable bed, cable TV and AC, albeit in rather Spartan conditions. On the main street we found some uninspired Chinese food to fill our bellies, then fell exhausted into bed.
Our wake-up call, a knock on the door at 6:00, stirred us to rise. A small burner in a room behind the front desk turned out fluffy omelets, accompanied by the ubiquitous light, airy French rolls that melt in your mouth. Back at the dock, Steve continued his tour of Mekong street vendors, purchasing a sweet crepe, rolled up for easy nibbling.
A small motorized boat transported us to the floating market at Cai Rang, where we delighted in watching local commerce taking place. Boats of all different sizes come to this central meeting place on the river to sell their produce.
A tall, slender pole hoisted at the bow of each boat is topped with a sample of the produce available. Larger boats act as consolidators, displaying a large variety of products on their poles — small scallions flying on top and large gourds anchoring the bottom. A booming floating service market of café boats cruises around dishing up local delicacies to the workers.
After a stop at an open-air market, Steve bought a flavorful snack, from a man on a motorcycle, comprised of steamed rice and savory meat wrapped in a banana leaf, which we washed down with the mild juice of a young coconut. After we drank the liquid through a straw, a slight woman wielding a hefty hatchet made short work of whacking the coconut in two so we could scoop out the custard-like coconut meat with a spoon.
Chau Doc and Carven Pagoda
Returning to Can Tho, we had lunch followed by a stroll around town before our long bus ride to Chau Doc. A power outage in Chau Doc resulted in a murky transfer from a van to a boat to cross the river to the Delta Floating Hotel. Luckily, the beer was still cold, and cheers erupted when the generator sputtered to life.
The floating hotel was pleasant. Our large room had two beds draped with mosquito nets but was equipped with only a fan. The fan churned the warm, still air a bit, but I spent a long, hot night entangled in my mosquito net.
The morning dawned bright, sunny and hot as we made our way to the Carven Pagoda. After climbing many steps, our reward was a panoramic view of the mountains of nearby Cambodia fronted by brilliant green rice paddies.
We were sobered to learn that just beyond the mountains were the infamous Killing Fields, where many ethnic, religious and political minorities lost their lives at the hands of the Khmer Rouge from 1975 to 1979. That brutality is contrasted by the saint honored at this pagoda, who provided medicines and kind acts for the local people.
Back on the river, a larger boat carried us to a local houseboat family for a visit. The numerous houseboats in the area were spacious, with large decks surrounding a watery hole.
Our guide grabbed some pellets out of a bag and suddenly the water was transformed as a roiling mass of fish leapt from the water, fighting for the fish food. Each houseboat is fitted with a large net under the house where catfish and other fish — up to 100,000 at a time — are raised.
Cham Village
We continued down the river, disembarking onto a rickety, narrow boardwalk. We met members of a local Cham village, an Islamic minority community whose ancestors were of Malay-Polynesian origin but who were influenced by ancient Middle Eastern traders who migrated through Tibet to the Mekong in the second century. The Cham people formed an important link in the Spice Route between Southeast Asia and the Persian Gulf.
A Cham woman sat weaving at a large loom, producing truly beautiful silk scarves and fabrics in rich, brilliant colors that she sold for extremely low prices.
We ambled farther down the boardwalk, where we were accosted by winsome children selling banana and coconut waffles. Purchasing from one child extracted howls of protest from other children, so Steve did what he could to soothe hurt feelings. By this time it wouldn’t have surprised me if everyone on the Mekong knew that Steve was a sucker for street snacks.
Transferring to a larger boat, we stampeded to the upper deck to claim two of the limited number of deck chairs as we motored farther along the river. About five minutes later the deck was cleared, everyone driven below by the searing rays of the tropical sun.
We were served a delightful lunch of stir-fried noodles and savory fried pork.
Our most unique disembarkation, at Long Xuyen, consisted of descending from the boat into a field thickly populated with tall weeds. This was easily accomplished with our small daypacks but caused some amused consternation for those with large wheelie suitcases.
Return to Saigon
A long bus ride delivered us back to Saigon by early evening. Along the way we saw many farms raising ducks, rice and vegetables. Some of my favorite sights were of large, open-air restaurants situated along the roadsides with hammocks strung beside each table.
We were enchanted by lissome women in elegant, white, flowing au-dais (snug-fitting tunics worn over loose pants) sitting perfectly erect on their one-speed bicycles. We wondered how they stayed so spotless when we looked crumpled and damp after standing outside for two minutes.
A rest stop allowed Steve another opportunity for a banana-leaf-wrapped snack, this one filled with fluffy white rice and shredded fresh coconut sprinkled with sugar. It was a simple and surprisingly tasty treat.
As we reflected back on our three captivating days on the river, we laughed at our memories of Steve eating his way through the street vendors of the delta and remembered the smiling faces of the many children we encountered and the generous people who graciously shared a slice of the delta lifestyle with us.
We were impressed with our knowledgeable guides and the efficient coordination of the different boats and vehicles that numbered so many, we lost count. This provided a wonderful opening chapter for our future exploration of the mighty Mekong.