A Very Different Road To An Lao

The Morning

It was barely 6:30 when I cracked my eyes to see the bedroom already bathed in midmorning light. I jumped out of bed and looked at my watch. Diem, disturbed at my sudden movement, looked at me as if I was a little crazy. “We have a lot to do before we leave,” I said a bit flustered. “till 11” she responded as she rolled over as if to go back to sleep. Time is something I never get used to in Vietnam. It’s not that people are lackadaisical about punctuality here, It just definitely isn’t stressed over as back in the states. Relax it will be fine.

In my mind there was much preparation for the apartment. It was looking like it would be a couple of weeks minimum before we returned. Make sure all the trash is emptied, windows shuttered, perishable foods disposed of or packed in the cooler, a deep cleaning, I still had to return the refrigerator I had absconded from an empty apartment, and we hadn’t even packed yet. The truth was our transport was driven by Trieu Vy. He had been driving the transport for years, he was from An Lao, Diem had known him since her youth, He wasn’t going to leave us. I was still in scramble mode.

In addition I was just so damn excited. We were headed to the village Diem was from deep in the central mountains of Dinh Binh province. I was just ready to get on the road. So with a little pep in my step I got busy in the business of getting ready. Diem and I, in an orchestra dance, cleaned, packed and made sure every detail was attended to. We finished by 9:30 and had a little time to eat. We ordered a few Banh Mi’s from a street merchant down the street and had them delivered. The family that runs the apartment came to collect our luggage, cooler and presents for the kids and we sat at the entrance of the now open building and awaited for our taxi.

It was a quiet and contemplative ride as we crossed the river and to the rendezvous point. The transport was already there waiting and Trieu loaded our belongings, but said we would not be leaving for another 15 minutes or so. So we sat at the edge of a small market near the transport stop. ordered a bottle of water and just watched a newly open city coming back to life.

The Transport

I always reserve the front seat, It’s a couple of dollars more, but there is actually foot room and I’m usually the largest on the transport by a factor of at least 2. Trieu asked if I would do him a favor and sit behind him. Diem and I would have a three seat row to ourselves and he was concerned for me to be in view. I had received permission to travel and had sought approval from both the Da Nang immigration office and An Lao’s local party leader. Both said I would have no problem.

Foreigners had been on lockdown and quarantine longer than the citizenry and his concern wasn’t that we had permission. There are many toll stations, police precincts and even military installations between here and there. If I was casually spotted in the front seat it could trigger an inspection and questions and more importantly, time. I saw no problem with this request and tucked in behind Trieu and stayed out of sight.

The journey was far quicker than usual as traffic was light. The transport itself, which is usually packed with goods and at least five more people than there are seats, was virtually empty. The transport also doubles as a delivery service between An Lao and Da Nang and is how we send things back to the village. With restrictions just now lifting, and people beginning to get back to some sort of normal, you could sense there was still some uneasiness in it all.

The Route

Trieu was gung ho to get back to work. You could tell he was happy to be on the road again. His transport had been parked for many weeks and that is something that has never happened. For as long as Deim can remember, Trieu gets up and heads to the center of An Lao at 5am. This is why we must leave An Lao so early when we go. He loads people and goods headed to Da Nang and off he goes. If there is room and anyone is waving their hand on the side of the road he stops. He may be picking them up or a package. He may stop anywhere in between to deliver a package or drop someone off. We are not the last to exit when we head to An Lao.

He usually arrives in Da Nang around 10:30 to unload, reload with packages and people. At 11am it’s back to An Lao and the same method of picking up and dropping off. He usually arrives in An Lao around 5:30 or 6pm. Today we arrived at 4:30. With a combination of cellular networking and years of running the route, Trieu has it down to a science. He runs the route 7 days a week 51 weeks a year. He shuts down for one week for Lunar New Year as the country comes to a stop and that is the only rest he gets.

The Road Block

As always, we headed south towards Qui Nhon. The main state route 1, which is the backbone of Vietnam, is a pretty modern interstate, though not that large to American standards. It has a few overpasses and exit and onramp here and there, but is more like a large state highway back home. After about 3 hours or so we turn back North West and head into the mountains. The road becomes narrow and dusty, the emerald mountains begin to fill the horizon. The rural areas fill the landscape and jungle rolls on in the hillsides. This is where the world melts behind you and something special lays ahead.

We climbed ever higher towards the district of An Lao until we reached the district line. Districts are the equivalent of counties in the states, provinces the equivalent of states. We are in Binh Dinh province, entering it’s most rural district high in the central hills, An Lao. An Lao is also the name of the district capital or county seat of government. Even small rural towns that are the seats of the district government are called capitals here.

At the gate that marks the boundary into the district was a roadblock. The military had set up a primitive structure of a green army canvas strung between lashed bamboo polls. Two military personnel and a nurse sat at a table under the canvas and all passengers were asked to exit the vehicle. We stood in a line to wait our turn. Our papers, medical inspections and declarations, temperature checks, addresses of where we’ve been, where we are staying and phone numbers to reach us.

The district had zero cases and had been shut off from the rest of the world for over a month now. The government was taking no chances. Everything seemed fine. They did seem a bit anxious to see me, I have been one of only two or three westerners Diem knows of who have been in the district since the war ended almost 50 years ago. With their orders clear and no reason to block my entrance than anxiousness, they let us proceed.

A Phone Call

It was less than 5 minutes after we crossed into the district that Diem’s phone rang. It was the An Lao police department. Both Diem and I were directed to immediately report to the local clinic and then to police headquarters when we arrived in An Lao for further inspection. It wasn’t exactly what I was hoping for, but baring a bit of xenophobia I was confident everything would be fine.

Arriving In An Lao

as always Trieu dropped us off at the entrance to the village. It is actually a mile south of An Lao proper I just can’t seem to find the name of the actual village on a map. Within minutes our nephew Duy zoomed up on a motorbike and Diem and I hoped on. Duy would wait with our belongings as Diem and I headed to the house and a convoy of motorbikes collecting our belongings on the side of the road would begin. As soon as we pulled up my father in law Ba had ordered me to his work shed out back. His brother and a few of his friends were sitting around talking and having a few beers on this quiet Sunday afternoon.

I had things to unpack and an appointment I had to get to, but he was not interested in what I needed to do. I didn’t mind, I had a beer or two and enjoyed confirming the limited English phrases the men gathered around were expressing. Ba’s friends would try to get me to say phrases in Vietnamese and I always knew they were up to no good when Ba would say”No, not that, no good”. Who knows what they were trying to teach me.

The Local Authorities

My brother in law Thao showed up to drive me to the clinic and police station. They were next door to each other which was handy. At the clinic an initial bath in hand sanitizer was given before I entered and the doctor again checked my temperature. He asked some basic questions about my health and as it was obvious I had no symptoms after an observation period He seemed satisfied. I signed a few forms confirming the information and we were sent to the police department.

Next door the officer was wearing a polo shirt, shorts and flip flops, it was a sleepy mountain village and Sunday, and he seemed very casual about the situation. He sent my brother in law across the street to obtain a photocopy of my Visa and asked a few questions about our recent travels. As you know there wasn’t much to discuss there and he seemed very comfortable with the situation, gave my documentation back and welcomed me to An Lao. As we pulled out of the station a few children were flying a kite in a graded dirt pad across the street.

The Oasis in the Mountains

We finally settled into the house. No air conditioner, lukewarm showers, mosquito nets over the beds. Fresh fruit hanging from the trees. Mango, coconut, bananas and lychee. The fresh cultivated mushrooms, jackfruit and Thai chili. Geckos darting in the heights of the walls munching on insects. Fresh pulled ginger and other produce from the gardens that line the property. Fresh eggs, chicken and maybe even a freshly slaughtered hog. Truly an oasis in the Jungle.

The green curtains that hang over the property keep the sun out and are drawn in to let the breeze in at dusk. The tile floors and walls that fill the house to keep the heat out by day and facilitate cooling at night. The beautifully crafted wooden furniture is more art than table and chairs. The rain as it pounds on the massive metal awning that covers the property. The fresh mountain air, the mist that drives over the mountains in the early morning. Hammocks I’ll probably nap an afternoon or two in. It’s one of the most magical places I’ve ever visited. This time would be the most special of visits.

In my previous visits we always come as soon as I arrive in country. Usually I’m so sick with Jet Lag that I sleep most of my visit away. Retreating to the mountain forest village to recuperate on fresh fruit, coconut water and clean air. Revitalize from days of flying around the world and coping with time. This trip was originally planned as the same. But restrictions on foreigners movement stranded us in Da Nang some 40 plus days ago. So here I am, in paradise, refreshed, adjusted and eager. Eager to really explore this mountain hamlet and see what secrets she holds.

The Reunion

Xu and Su were beyond excited that we had finally arrived. It was a touching moment. They both jumped in mine and Diems arms and It was very emotional. It had been just over 50 days since the girls had seen their mother. We video chatted daily, but children still need their parents. One of Diems brothers and a nephew were in An Lao when the lockdown began and her sister lives there also. So there were plenty of family to help keep the girls occupied which was a relief. But now we were finally together again and there was just a special feeling in the air. It was as if everyone was walking on clouds.

Dinner

After arriving back I was again called to spend time with my father in law. With the all clear and a sense of tranquility, I sat with the elders of the village and talked as much junk as I could muster. I found it interesting that all the elders possessed Zippo lighters with American flags on them. This was a theater of war years ago and on the side of the South so the American presence had definitely been felt here. They were very proud of their made in America Zippos.

After a while dinner was called. Banh Xeo, shrimp filled coconut crepes with fresh lettuces and herbs, cucumbers and rice paper. Accompanied with something I’ve come to really consider a treat. The fertilized duck egg known as Balut. I ate more in this sitting as I have in awhile. I hadn’t eaten since the banh mi at breakfast and today I had done more moving and activity than I’d done in months. After many crepes and a few Balut it was time for a shower. A cold mountain shower to knock the heat out of you is incredibly refreshing. Though the humidity and heat is pretty high here and the shower is outside, so as soon as you cut the water off the sweat tries to take hold.

I didn’t mind, it is just part of the experience. After freshening up Diem’s sister, brother in law and a couple of cousins showed up and we walked to the town center for a cup of coffee. It was so wonderful to be in An Lao again. To be able to walk around and meet up with family and friends. It was surprisingly refreshing in the tropical evening as we strolled in the jungle darkness. The smell of incense was in the air as everyone in the village had begun setting their ancestral altars for the evening.

Chasing Geckos

After coffee we headed back home. We strolled across the small bridge that connects the neighborhood we are in with the main part of town. Then turned down the lane to the house. It was getting relatively late and I sat for a while in the living room. I was looking at the artwork hanging on the wall. Behind each art piece were several geckos. Though highly skittish and nocturnal, any movement in the room would send them hiding.

There was a light above each framed piece and of course in the glass less and screen less windows and wide open doors, the bugs were pretty thick around the lights. The ceilings here are easily 15 plus feet high and the lights keep the bugs high above. I wonder if paintings harboring the geckos just below the lights is by design as every light seems to have something beneath it harboring a gecko or two.

If you sit very still and quiet in the almost empty room, the geckos will come out hunting. Pretty clever pest control if you ask me. I sat there for a while intrigued by the cute little hunters as they would dart out, climb to the light and begin devouring insects at will. It was common here and I think everyone was getting a laugh out of my fascination. The equivalent of someone sitting on a porch staring at squirrels in the yard for hours because it seemed novel.

It had been a day’s worth and it was time to get some rest. We all piled into our usual room and everyone prepared for bed. I laid down on the bamboo matt covered platform bed and tried to get comfortable. The only thing I could ever complain about here are the beds. Wooden slatted beds with a bamboo mat and a mat cover. I’ve never been keen on hard surfaces for sleeping. But I didn’t care. I was happy to be in An Lao. Happy to be with Diem at her home. With the fan blowing cool air on me and the sound of the jungle out the window, it wasn’t long before sleep overcame me.

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Or click here for a video of the road to An Lao taken last autumn