Honky bus ride

We’re at the bus to Hoi An. The bus driver seems to use the honk much more than it is necessary. Even though I should already be used to this never stopping noise I am irritated. Maybe it’s because my day didn’t start very well. Woken up by a cleaning lady breaking into our room, discovering my yesterdays bed bugs bites annoyingly itchy and being ripped off when paying for the hotel and the perspective of spending the whole day and night serving as a cherry on top. But instead of whining let’s focus on yesterday.

After discovering we’re not fit at all, probably too weak to go trekking as intended at the beginning we settled to go with the Easy Riders to visit the countryside. 20$ each took us on a journey in time and space when visiting farmers, minority people village, silk farm etc. We started off with visiting the dragon pagoda. One of our Easy Riders – Mr. Bean told us some truly fascinating stories of why women are allowed in the pagodas now, of how Buddhist even have their female Buddha to worship, how dragons are made of fish jumping of the waterfalls, and of how a child became a Buddha. From what I understand one can become a Buddha when the Buddha of all the Buddhas steps down from heavens and appoints one to become holly for his sacred life or for being exceptionally good. So the female Buddha used to be a wife falsely accused of attempting to murder her husband, living in a pagoda dressed up as a monk, falsely accused of impregnating a local girl (who fell in love with the false monk) and then died when forced out of the community together with the newly borne child. Thanks to her, women are now more appreciated in the Buddhist society. Good to hear that some people cultures are allowed to truly worship a female god.

After the pagoda we drove off to see the farmers at work, picking up onions at the fields and carrying heavy buckets of cabbage through the whole field and into the truck. They gave us warm smiles and the ER explained how happy they are now since the prices went up and they are better motivated to work hard.

From there we drove to the coffee plantation. It was basically a field with coffee trees, very stinky ones. Funny, that the trees (leafs or whatever) that gave the stench, but when they blossom, the flowers smell beautifully.

The next stop was a war monument to the city of DaLat. Ruins of a house which was used as a hospital, but got bombarded anyways. We were told some of the war history, how Vietnam was divided into communist north and capitalist south and how the communists won in reuniting the country. Interesting fact is that Vietnam was the country which stayed divided the shortest.

Driving further into the mountains through some picturesque roads we could see the Love Valley (no idea why it was called so). Down in the valley was a village where back in the days newlyweds moved at the order of the government to work in the agrarian society. Then we moved on to the flower farm (nothing truly interesting there) and the silk farm, where little ugly warms in their snow white cocoons were stored, thrown into boiling water, stripped off from their cocoons, which in turn were transformed into thread and later to cloth. All of this done by either humans or at least 2 century old machines (we have something like that in my home city’s museum).

The last but one destination was the minority people’s village. They were jungle people as the ER desciribed, and lived in that village when going to the church (yes, they were Christian). Their living conditions were pitiful yet the old lady wanted to share some of her food with us, which we kindly denied. Pity that we didn’t have any cookies to give away to the kids. If you ever go visit these remote areas, remember to bring little gifts (like sweets).

We ended up in the Paradise Lake and a meditation center. The lake wasn’t as beautiful as the name would suggest and the pagoda was way too neat and tidy in comparison to the rest of the countryside.

Oh, I forgot that we also stopped at a place where they made home-made moonshine. Really strong stuff, and the Easy Riders were masters in downing it yet staying sober.

On the whole, we returned tired but satisfied. A well spent money to hear all the fascinating stories and experiencing the true rural Vietnam. The Easy Riders really do tell you what the Lonely Planet does not.

It’s 8pm now and I am on a sleeping bus from Nha Trang to Hoi An. We only stayed in Nha Trang for an hour. The travel agency who operates our “open bus ticket”- the biggest and most expensive mistake of our trip so far asked us to pay 50% extra. I tried my best to stay calm and make them honor the contract but what can I do – a polish girl in the middle of Vietnam. There are no refunds especially when I lack leverage for negotiation. I can’t really harm their reputation (as I did to the hotel with be bugs when I told the newly coming tourists about them) or send authorities. The beauty of travelling I tell myself now covered with a stinky old blanket with my head on a never washed pillow. Moments like this I wish I could escape back home for a few days to rest from the Asian standards of doing things. But I will stay strong and withhold the downsides of travelling, the bug bites and annoying quacking driver. After all, there has to be a better day with exciting adventures, breathtaking views and friendly people sometime soon! Until then, gritted teeth and sulky SMarta….

Oh btw, there is a bunch of polish people on the bus.