Orphans' Christmas feast.

I should start this post with the disclaimer that I have a slightly over-the-top passion for Christmas. As my father's daughter, I'm up for any excuse for a party really, and Christmas is no exception.

So when the idea was borne that we should get the Hanoian AYAD volunteers together for Christmas, I was naturally pretty excited. In fact, the very next day I got busy putting together this invitation:

I sent it out to all of the AYAD volunteers in Vietnam, and encouraged people to invite any additional friends/housemates/lovers/other that might be interested in joining the festive fun. I promised a turkey and a ham and pudding, which upon reflection was a little ambitious given that our kitchen consists of 3 rice bowls, 4 spoons and no oven - but the more the merrier right? After a couple of weeks it looked like there would be about 15 of us. How exciting! Not wanting anyone to miss out on the action, I sent out a reminder email for any possible late RSVPers.

And then there were 37...

So without carrying on for too long, that is how Christmas turned into a large scale, catered event - complete with two 7kg imported turkeys, eight boiled Christmas puddings, and engineer consultation regarding the structural integrity of our rooftop. It was all very United Nations, with representation from Canada, Norway, France, Czechoslovakia, America, Vietnam, and of course Australia. Coordinating the feast became a virtual second job for my good friend Georgie and I, and we loved every minute of it! I'll let the pics tell the story.

The ten step guide to feeding 37 hungry expat orphans a 
traditional Christmas feast (in Hanoi).

Step one: two nights prior to Christmas, prep 8kg ham ready
 for basting. 9pm is a good time to start.

Step two: at midnight, after basting ham for 2.5 hours like the Hanoian
 butcher told you to, do some quick Google research and realise that you
 actually have a fresh ham that requires cooking for 7 hours.

Step three: begin basting and sleeping in 45 minute shifts.

Step four: complete epic ham basting episode at 4am, ready
to go to the wholesale flower markets at 5am.

Step five: head to wholesale flower market dressed like complete tourists,
signalling that you are ready to pay twice as much as the locals do.

Quang An flower market, Hanoi.

Step six: (Christmas Eve) get yourself in the mood for Christmas with
traditional carols like "Twinkle, twinkle little star" (?) at St Joseph's Cathedral.

Step seven: it's Christmas!! Get to work like good Christmas
elves should.

Step eight: Enlist all of the strong Tay men
you know to help prep the party space...

Make strong Tay men do ridiculous things - like scale the walls to hang pretty stars -
"But I WANT them higher..."

"Higher..."

Step nine: grab a glass of bubbles, relax,
and wait for the expat orphans to arrive...

Step ten... enjoy!

Did I mention I love Christmas?

Expat orphans lining up to be fed.

Kris Kringle excitement...

Cobra rice wine - the perfect Kris Kringle gift!

Leftover cold meat sandwiches keep a crowd at Christmas.

Two very happy party planning elves.

Step eleven (the one we forgot about): wake up
on boxing day to find the post -party carnage.

You know it's been a successful Christmas party when...
your cleaning up a dead cobra amongst the pudding  bowls.

Roll with it.

I’m quickly learning that despite one’s best efforts, there’s a lot you simply can’t control here in Vietnam.  Just when you think you’ve worked things out (work, life, what you’re eating…) a curve ball flies in and changes the state of play. The thing is, there’s no point in trying to maintain control – you’ll only end up furious, frustrated or in a flap. And most importantly, you might end up missing the best this crazy country has to offer.

So, to help calm my controlling tendencies, I’m trying out a new motto. Not original, not complex, but helpful. “Just roll with it.”

“Just roll with it” got a good test run on my field trip last week. I rolled with it when I found out the beef I was devouring for lunch was horse. I rolled with it when I realised my hotel mattress was infact a plank of wood (although I was careful not to roll over). And I rolled with it when asked to sing a traditional Australian song to a group of Tay ethnic minority people at livelihoods workshop (see below for the warm response to a horrid rendition of ‘Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree’).

"Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree"
- a hit in any culture.

Although I think best practice at rolling with it came on the first day of the field trip.

Up at 6am, ready to travel to the village for my first interview around 9am. Have been running through the questions with the translator all night. Dictaphone is charged. Culturally sensitive clothes are on. It’s on! That is until my colleague declares at breakfast that it’s off. No village visit, I’m going to a workshop delivered entirely in Vietnamese instead.

Roll with it.

Lunch is finished and there’s a change of plans. Get the translator, get the driver – you’re off to the village. It’s on! Stop to see the good people at the office of the ‘local authorities’ (commonly known as a word that starts with ‘c’ and rhymes with ‘pommies’) for their permission to visit the village. You guessed it – it’s off. Nope, hold that thought – take three of the bored cronies from the office with you – and it’s on! So into the car we pile - the driver, the translator, the three cronie kids and me - off for to the village for the interviews I'm so desperate to get.

It’s three incredible interviews and a million photos later, and I’m finishing up the last interview when a commotion breaks out between the travelling party. Before I know it we’re being rounded up into the car, and my 22 year old translator, Thahn, has no idea what's going on as we fly off at a million miles an hour into the sunset.

Roll with it, roll with it, roll with it.

Finally we stop. We're ushered out of the car and across a field to a small mud brick house - and we still have no idea what's going on. Inside the house the reason for the rush becomes apparent.... exotic birds. Of course! Turns out the cronies' mate sells the best exotic birds in town - and we have a driver who has a penchant for said exotic birds. Ha! Thank you driver for your effective use of our paid time.

For the record – those mockin’ birds wouldn't sing, so the driver declined to purchase them – which brought him frightfully close to blows with the proud bird seller. They obviously didn’t know how to roll with it.

All eyes on the prize.

Only problem, that mockin' bird wont sing... 

The people I met along the way.

Over the past week I've been visiting two projects that my host organization - the Center for Sustainable Rural Development - run in the remote northern mountains of Vietnam. The projects provide basic training to ethnic minority communities, focusing on agricultural diversification for improved livelihoods.

With the help of a driver and translator, I've taken in incredible sights and stories that highlight the beauty - and the heartbreak - of life in rural Vietnam.

Stories from the trip to come, but I thought I'd share my favourite snaps of the awesome people I met along the way.

(If you click on one of the photos you'll be able to easily scroll through them all as a high res album.)

Lièu, Dao ethnic minority people, Chì Lụng village.

Tien & Dien,  Thái ethnic minority people, Nake village.

Minh and Nội, Thái ethnic minority people, Gia Hội commune.

Doa woman, Cẩm Ân village

Tụng, Taỳ ethnic minority people, Cẩm Ân village.

Tụng and wife The, Taỳ ethnic minority people, Cẩm Ân village.

Chi, Thanh & Lai, Taỳ ethnic minority people, Cẩm Ân village.

And of course it was impossible not to be completely captivated by the children ...

 

 

The anniversary.

Today is my one month anniversary in Vietnam (raise your glasses). It's fair to say that in just four weeks, life has changed considerably . So much of my world is foreign and unknown. At the same time, so much of it is comfortingly familiar. And most often, it's a hilarious clash of both.

Take tonight (the first night of my work field trip)  for example:

- I dined with my work colleagues in the lovely hotel restaurant. Dinner was at 6pm.
(Pretty familiar right...)
- 50% of my work colleagues turned up to the restaurant in pyjamas. (Less familiar.)
- Dinner was a beautiful shared meal - ranging from pork stir fry to baked fish. 
- The beverage options were red bull, fanta in a can or rice wine. 
- I sat in silence at dinner.
- I really enjoyed dinner.
- My room has a minibar, the MTV music channel, white linen, and as this post suggests -
free WIFI.
- My room has a bed without a mattress (said white linen wrapped around timber), the shower is a tap hanging out over the toilet, and my pillow is a towel.

Best of all, for the past hour I've been prepping questions for work tomorrow - my interview with a woman from an ethnic minority community in the far northern mountains. Her community is classified by the Government as critically disadvantaged, she's never seen a westerner before, and tomorrow (through a translator) we'll be discussing gender equality, market access and agricultural diversification.  Just another day at the office.

Vietnam might be foreign and unknown, but it's certainly not boring. 

You know you’re the funny looking Tây (foreigner) when …

I just had a ‘cross-cultural’ experience too good not to share. Yesterday on the way to work I stopped at the photo shop on the side of the highway to have a passport photo taken. I was wearing a black top, orange scarf, and my hair was tied back in a loose ponytail (read: sweaty hair falling out of ponytail). I thought I was appropriately and inconspicuously dressed for a Vietnamese work day. In fact, I thought I looked pretty good.

Apparently, I was wrong.

I just picked up said passport photos and had to do a double take. See below for the new and improved Viet Kate – complete with frilly white sateen shirt, slick hair, and pale complexion. It seems photoshop is popular in all cultures.

Viet Kate passport photo -
complete with complimentary photoshopping.

I giggled all the way out of the shop and all the way back to the office. I was even giggling as I nearly got hit by a reversing truck – which was confusing as its reversing ‘beep’ sound had been replaced with the ‘happy birthday’ jingle.

I may be the funny looking Tây – but man I love this town!

Stella, my love.

Just a quick post - but I thought it would be remiss of me not to introduce friends and family to the new love of my life. Meet Stella, my new Korean classic bicycle. She is so beautiful, and cool, and mobile. She has a pink frame, and a red seat and red handle bars. We rode to work all week, and explored the city this weekend - it was wonderful. I think we'll be friends for life (or at least the next 12 months).

Stella, being fitted just right for me.

Hello Hanoi

It's been two weeks in Hanoi and finally I feel ready to write this blog post. Stacks has happened in just 14 days - it feels like time is flying. In no particular order, the highlights thus far include:

1. A week ago we moved into a great house in the central district of Hai Ba Trung, and already it feels like home. Our street (as you might have guessed) is Vân Hồ III.  In addition to myself, it houses three other AYADs (Aussie volunteers), a bird, 4 fish, and a very healthy but unwelcome rat. It has 4 bedrooms plus a guest room (holiday anyone?) a fantastic terrace rooftop, my room has a super cute balcony, and as of yesterday, we even have hot water.

I'm still waiting on the call from Vogue Living Vietnam...

Kitchen complete with mural and fishpond water feature - 
hello mosquito breeding ground.

Lounge room (note super soft and comfy 
wooden couches).

Transport storage unit.

Our terrace - such cosmopolitan living.

2. I've stopped taking photos of people riding motorbikes carrying ludicrously oversized objects. If it's anything less than a 3 piece lounge suite or 28 dozen eggs, you're boring me.


3. I've started work and all is going well. I'll post more info about my host org and colleagues down the track, but basically it seems I couldn't be luckier when it comes to my work here.  Everyone has been incredibly friendly and welcoming - even greeting me with this huge bunch of flowers. I think you'll agree that floristry in Australia has a long way to come...

4. I've eaten street food everyday and haven't been hospitalized yet. BBQ pigeon and snail spring rolls included.

Our street spread - a whole $2.40 worth.

5. My language skills still suck - but on the weekend I bartered and got a good price on a mattress and doona cover, and got them home, all on my own! I was less successful in bartering down the price of my new mobile phone - but did come home with a free Samsung drink bottle.


6. The lady at the end of our alley  who makes me breakfast (seasoned omelette in bread with cucumber, coriander, fired shallots and chilli sauce) knows that I like 2 eggs instead of 1, without me having to ask.

Weetbix - Hanoi style.

Milestones aside, I'm still so new and green here. I feel like Hanoi is a mad, mad city and she's going to unleash some of her madness on me over the next year.


But on first impression, she might just be my kind of mad.