Hanoi & Sa Pa, Vietnam

THE TET (or Vietnamese New Year) is described as the ‘most important celebration in Vietnamese culture’.  The whole country basically shuts down for 3-14 days to allow families adequate time to prepare (and enjoy) the beginning of the lunar year.

They cook special dishes and buy new clothes and pay off outstanding debts and wear red for good luck (while sweeping BAD luck outta the house).  Kumquat trees and peach blossoms adorn every stoop, while ‘lucky money’ is handed out to children and pagodas are PACKED with people praying for prosperity.

Planning ahead is a MUST when traveling to Vietnam around the Tet.  Luckily for me (as I knew nothing about the holiday, its traditions, OR that it fell on my second week in Hanoi), four Vietnamese families were eager to show me the ropes.

After spending the first week in Hanoi exploring the city with Mrs. Dung (temples and markets and street food, oh MY all my babies are wandering into the street.  DON’T YOU HURT MY BABIES!  VIETNAMEE MOMMY DON’T PLAY!), Ms. Lucy volunteered to take me to the Vietnamese countryside for a TRADITIONAL holiday season.  Three full days with her extended family, including a midnight fireworks session back in the city on NYE.

You might remember Ms. Lucy as the dynamic, super-smiley emcee at the kindergarten’s end-of-year-banquet.  The one I instantly adored?  How the heck was I lucky enough to go with HER family for the Tet?!  (And, for the record, my suspicions were correct.  Ms. Lucy owns her own swing set company (the first of its kind in Vietnam) AND her own factory (to make the swing sets); she just bought a large plot of land to build an educational farm for children; and she’s a bonified BADASS.)

This swing set sensation invited me into her parents’ and grandparents’ homes (in Hung Yen, Ninh Binh, and the Hanoi outskirts) to share their family traditions, welcome me as one of their own, and blow me away with the depth of their generosity and warmth…… even though I was wearing freaking THREE DOLLAR SWEATPANTS two days in a row because my black pants were still soaking from the wash.

Picture an idyllic one-story house with beautifully-intricate woodwork (nestled in the banana, longan, & guava fields) and then fill that house with aunts, uncles, cousins, the cutest grandparents known to man, and a never-ending food buffet.  Tea service and coconut strings turned into hot pots and spring rolls and soup and sticky rice and salty chicken you ate with your hands.  Then came fresh veggies and pork and beef and banh chung and BEER back to tea service and we started all over again.  I was in heaven.

Not just because of the food (which was delicious AND inventive- they spear their corn cobs with chopsticks!  Genius!) but because of the ENTIRE EXPERIENCE.  I didn’t know what was going on most of the time (typical) and since no one spoke English except Ms. Lucy and her 6-year-old daughter Bong, I spent most of my time smiling (my cheeks hurt), matching peoples’ energy (they laughed, I laughed), and trying my best to be as respectful as possible (even though I was wearing freaking THREE DOLLAR SWEATPANTS and everyone else was in their Sunday best).

During meals (where we’d all sit cross-legged on the floor), Ms. Lucy would act as my translator to let me know why I was already laughing……. or to relay any of MY stories back to the group to make THEM laugh.  Like how I’d be the WORST Vietnamese wife of all time because I can’t cook………or how I got in a motorbike accident and nobody seemed to care……. or how I was making cartoon noises, that afternoon, while defeathering chicken, out back, with the men.

do chicken wear hair plugs?  cuz that’s what it felt like.

My FAVORITE part of the meals (besides deciphering the 6-year-old’s ‘tree of polar bear’ dish description as bamboo soup, putting a big wad of grilled onion strings in my mouth as someone told me they were the ‘leg skin of baby cow’, and hearing random conversations with the word ‘chee-ca-go’ followed by an eruption of laughter) ……… was drinking beer with Grandpa.

He had a whole system.  He would look at me, point to a Heineken can, nod, nod again, tap on the top, nod again, and continue pointing, tapping and nodding until I nodded back.  Then, he would pour me a glass, look me in the eye, clink my glass, and nod one more time (to himself) in approval.  After round one, Grandpa and I were the only ones drinking because HOW CAN YOU SAY ‘NO’ WHEN THERE’S THAT MUCH NODDING INVOLVED?!

I represented the USA and went beer-for-beer with Grandpa.  At the end of night one, he was impressed that ‘I could drink’ and invited me back for next year’s Tet celebration.

Ms. Lucy- I can’t thank your family enough for their hospitality.  THANK YOU for allowing me to be part of your family during such an important holiday, for insisting upon daily mid-afternoon naps between lunch & dinner, and for serving two extra helpings of sticky rice with that peanut/black pepper dry rub that I seriously could eat EVERY DAY FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.  Oh, and tell your cousin that I loved her bright, yellow sweatshirt that read, ‘I’m sad because I’m fat.  I’m fat because I eat.  I eat because I’m sad.’

Sweet potato goodie bag in hand, I said goodbye to Ms. Lucy’s family and hellooooooo family vacation to Sa Pa with Mrs. Thao.  When a Vietnamese family invites you to the terraced rice field spectacle that is Sa Pa, Vietnam, you hop on the 5-hour sleeper bus before they can change their mind.

After checking into Mrs. Thao’s brother’s FUTURISTIC SLEEPING POD HOTEL (The Sapa Capsule Hotel), playing board games with the kids, and signing up for a 2-day romantic hike, just Mrs. Thao and I………. the whole family went out for a hot pot dinner.  Since I live my life like one, long improv sketch (accepting every offer with ‘yes, and’), dinner turned into local-delicacy-test-kitchen where I got to try horse meat, horse fat, horse skin, horse blood…….and a big, ‘ole fish head with ramen.

Fish heads will now be added to my running list of ‘Do Not Eat on a Date’ foods (along with ribs, wings, celery, and spaghetti carbonara).  Not that the good bits weren’t tasty……. more that GETTING to the good bits was a sideshow struggle.  Please no one look at me as I adjust (and readjust) this mouth-sized skull in my mouth, back & forth and back & forth until I can suck out the six tasty bits.

Moving right along, Mrs. Thao and I set out on our 2-day trek through Muong Hoa Valley with one local guide, three fun friends from the French Alps, and a pack of bite-size ladies from the local village.  While EYE was making sure Mrs. Thao was ok (as she was nervous about the hike), Su Su (one of the local ladies) was looking out for ME.  Su Su kept grabbing my hand to make sure I didn’t fall which I did NOT ask for………but nevertheless, she persisted (and I very much appreciated).

Later in the day, as I was trying to take a panoramic picture with my cell phone, I banana-peel-slipped on a rock and slid down the countryside.

Su Su took one look at me, and she knew.  That one’s going down.  THAT one’s a liability.

I bought a scarf out of Su Su’s basket as a ‘thank you for looking out for me’.  Hey Mom- heads up.  You’re getting a scarf from Su Su.  Happy Mother’s Day!

We walked through the bamboo forest (past the sea of swirly, twirly gum drops) and up inclines so steep that our body leans were parallel to the ground; we snacked on sugar cane for energy as we marveled at the 65-degree weather in off-season; and we had the most wonderful conversation about life, love and basketball hopes & dreams.

At the end of day one, Mrs. Thao hopped on a bus back to the future (The Sapa Capsule Hotel) while I settled into the Lazy Crazy homestay (in the middle of rice field valley) with three Frenchmen (Adrian, Caroline, and Ema) who turned out to be absolute GEMS of human beings.  We explored the small village of Ta Van drank beer on a rooftop, played cards, and agreed not to judge each other if no one took showers in the questionable outhouse.

Which worked great for me because due to a miscommunication, I didn’t bring ANYTHING on this hike.  No toothbrush, no contacts, no pjs, no problem.  I took off ONE of my two pairs of pants, Mrs. Thuy’s big, brown puffy coat and sank onto a mattress on the floor, lined up next to my new best friends.

THANK YOU, Mrs. Thao, for not only inviting me on your family vacation, but for hosting me for an ENTIRE WEEK at your house in Hanoi.  You were BEYOND accommodating and left me wanting for nothing.  Thank you for being so open and honest and genuine; thank you for letting me use your super sa-WEET motorbike; and thank you for all the delicious home-cooked meals.

Finally, we return full-circle to the woman who coordinated it all.  The ARCHITECT of my Hanoi experience.  The ANGEL who answered my S.O.S.  Mrs. Dung.

Mrs. Dung facilitated my thrilling motorbike adventures with children (I now know how to drive a scooter with a sleeping 6-year-old’s BOBBLE BODY pinballing between my arms); she taught me about local customs & traditions as we explored the city’s parks, temples and street food scenes (aka eating our shrimp dumplings & noodle soups on kindergarten stools 8” from the ground); and she constantly repeated one of the most wonderful phrases in the English language.  Just three, little words.

Three, little words that every girl wants to hear (especially if she’s in a foreign land, far from home).  Whatever was happening, wherever we were, Mrs. Dung would turn to me and ask, ‘Want to try?’

That’s how I was able to help the ladies in the park clean banana leaves or wash rice………or sit with the men & learn how to assemble & wrap banh chung (the traditional Vietnamese cakes made with pork, mung bean, and sticky rice).  Or how I got to try SO MANY LOCAL DELICACIES at Mrs. Dung’s top spots.  Like caramen and green rice flake cakes, natural BLUE sticky rice with coconut milk & yogurt and my first-ever bowl of pho (slammed down alongside 8 Vietnamese children so we didn’t miss the bus).

Mrs. Dung- I feel so lucky to have wandered into your circle and under your wing.  I love the way you charge through life.  Unapologetic and completely authentic.

mrs. dung!  wait for us!

To all four ladies of Hanoi (Mrs. Thuy- I didn’t spend that much time with you, but I adore you, your son Min, and your old brown puffy coat), you are so much stronger than you know.  You are shooting stars, forging a better world for your children.

You have SO MUCH RESPONSIBILITY placed upon your shoulders.  So much pressure to succeed……… in a culture that’s telling you you have to be the perfect wife and the perfect mom and the perfect daughter, taking care of EVERYTHING from cooking to cleaning to child-rearing to flower arranging all while holding down a full-time job.  You might not take time for yourself or you might feel guilty daydreaming about a non-traditional life path, but regardless of how exhausted you are (and understandably so), you still defy all odds and RADIATE positivity, joy and love.

I’m in awe of the strength and resolve of each one of you and I flat out love you.  And you know who else I love?  Your kids.  I’m gonna miss them hanging on me and crawling onto my lap two at a time and taking my hands out of pockets to hold them.  I’m gonna miss freeze tag and ballerina and listening to Ed Sheeran’s Shape of You 95 times a day.  I’m EVEN gonna miss playing Superman with Bong even though I KNEW she’d laugh so hard that a big globber of spit would fall on my cheek.

i got really good at dodging spit while holding a child in the air with my legs

You’re all invited to Chicago, just as SOON as I get back, so I can return the favor!  Unfortunately, I don’t have any children you can bunk with (who’ll whack-a-mole your face during the night)………but a spare twin bed & couch will have to do.

Thanks for making me fall in love with Hanoi……… and with your entire families.  See you again soon!

PICTURE SLIDESHOW:

terraced rice fields of Sa Pa, Vietnam.  is this not GORGEOUS?

sa pa. is. magnificent.

my hiking posse

this instagram model who was taking posed photographs and SLIPPED INTO THE STANDING WATER/MUD POOLS.

futuristic sleeping pod at the Sapa Capsule Hotel.  book it.

one of the Tet (lunch) feasts in the countryside

washing rice with my laaaaaaaadiessssssss

learning how to assemble banh chung as Mrs. Dung yelled out, ‘you know how to make cake for family!  you vietnamee grandma now!!!!’

my FIRST attempt was unsuccessful.  this pic was taken right after 3 of the men said ‘ok, ok we redo’

once i got it right, i taught the kids

everyone was VERY into it

then, one of the men GAVE me one of their perfectly-wrapped banh chungs……… and it was too much for me to handle.

that’s it.  i’m done.