bạn nhất means ‘friends, best’

 

As I swing in a hammock, I listen to the flapping of our drying clothes in the warm breeze, and watch them lightly flutter. I realize how lucky I am. Not just to be here at this beach hideout, at what is surely a little slice of heaven on earth, but to be here with two of my oldest friends.

 

Clothesline back story:  after dragging the rope home from way down the beach then untangling it, I stood, contemplating which knot to use to secure it. My feet and legs started burning. I was standing in a fire ant hang out, which was at the base of the tree. I finally got the line up, but anytime we had to get clothes off the far end of the line, we’d have to step lively, run, then splash the big, biting fire ants off with the water hose. They actually latch on with their mouth, then sting with their tail. This always involved adrenaline and screaming.  Then laughing.  Ok, back to the narrative.

Oldest in that I’m the youngest (by 1 month) of the trio, but also old in the sense that we met at the UW during our 2nd year of college in 1978 as *ahem* budding forestry students.

Beth, Kathi and Nancy.

Friends for 40 something years. We haven’t lived in the same city for 38 of those years yet we have remained fast friends. I recently chided them into visiting Hanoi. Sure, between them they’ve traveled extensively, but Vietnam definitely was NOT in their top 5 upcoming destinations.

They did it anyway. My incredible negotiating skills? Guilt? Thinly veiled bribes? They bought their economy tickets and came. Yay for friends. And drat. Nancy started with her very first leg of the journey being canceled due to a typhoon. Perfect chance to practice that Buddhist acceptance thing. On the bright side, she unexpectedly got to explore the Hong Kong airport and eat soup dumplings.

Seeing places I love through the eyes of these two has been delightful. They have a courageous curiosity with a no holds barred attitude. We could all say what we thought. And we did. They deconstructed a few mental walls that I had built during my years living here. It’s good to shake things up, right?

 

The Angkor Wat complex outside Siem Reap is large and sprawling, with endless sky.

Every day was different although evenings followed a routine involving dice and happy hour with the right amount of white wine, rum or the prevailing spirits of the day. Sample some house made rice wines in Hoa Binh? Yes, please. Cambodian infused liquors in hand painted bottles? Of course. Bia? Better than water. We’ve learned who has a beer addiction and who has a Sauv Blanc preference and who is the cocktail snob. Each night also revealed a new dice queen. Nancy. It’s always Nancy!

 

₫50,000 vnd for the bottle of house made sticky rice wine. That’s $2.16.

This hilltop, a 20 minute climb from our cabin on a small island south of Cambodia, was an apt location for expressing gratitude and waxing philosophical.

We stumbled our way through the slippery hillsides of northern Vietnam. TaVan, outside SaPa, proved to be rich with panoramic views, human connections, clucking chickens and uh…mud.

The rice fields were harvested a month prior to our arrival. The seed heads had been chopped off to extract and dry, while the rest of the plants remain in the ground until they get burned. We saw a lot of rice fields being burned.

 

 

The weather was cloudy and misty in the north, but not enough to deter day hikes.  The trails had some deep ruts.  We almost lost Nancy in one.

 

Most mornings in TaVan, we shared stories with local women selling wares. These Hmong villagers make a living and maintain their cultural identities with embroidery and indigo dying. They are the age of our own kids. We brought 12 pairs of reader glasses and passed them along. Aging eyes are universal. They were certain that their moms, dads and aunties could use the glasses.

 

She is showing us her 3 year old son, on a phone that a traveler gave her. Which reminds me to bring old phones the next time I return.

 

 

MiMi (r) who I remember from visiting TaVan last year, and her friends, sewing together while we all talked and laughed.  I’m not sure who asked more questions, us or them. They are probably laughing at our attempts to speak some Hmong words.

 

 

Ample walking opportunities on narrow mountain roads outside TaVan. Note the after school card game on a big rock.

 

 

Washing our boots off in the kitchen, equipped with a pizza oven. The homestay owner heard about pizza ovens from some Italian visitors, so he constructed is own using directions found on the internet.

We saw temples, pagodas, alters, shrines and monuments. We rode in tuk tuks, taxis and cars, and ate a lot of la lot (heh heh). We occasionally got lost. We had massages, rode bicycles, walked, swam and snorkeled. We bussed, flew, boated and climbed. We read, slept, ate and drank. It was everything we had hoped it would be, and more. No one got sick or injured more than a sunburn. We screamed a few times. Surprise frog visits in the dark tend to cause that reaction.

 

La lot leaves wrapped around ground port and/or chicken.  When grilled it releases a unique, herby flavor.

 

 

These friends wore matching plaid outfits while temple hopping in Siem Reap.

 

 

Reading aloud the historical facts to us. My hero.

 

 

It must’ve been funny.

 

 

Waiting. Inner courtyard, Angkor Wat. 90 degrees. You can’t see the dripping sweat.

 

 

I can’t even begin to count how many lemon ices we consumed. These are the perfect quencher. Limes are sometimes called lemons. Lemons are imported so they’re not readily available and if they are, cost a lot.

It’s hard to convey what all we did throughout the month.  Our experiences were energizing and exhausting. We will continue unpacking our memories for quite awhile to understand the impact of our travels. We’ve pondered most of life’s mysteries, and for the record, have no answers but do know it’s always better shared with friends.

 

Cheers.