Chapter 2: An Unknown Destination

“While on the road, I lost the track of the time. The days were not marked as weekdays or weekends. The month end didn’t mean a deadline coming up. I didn’t have to worry about reaching anywhere on time, or attend an urgent phone call.

I had no destination. I had no plan.

My worries were “Where to find a bed?”, “Is this the cheapest way to get there?” or “Are locals paying the same amount as I am paying?”

Yet, there was no fear…only the constant excitement…a thrill of not knowing tomorrow’s destination” - an excerpt from the notes, Ha Tien, Vietnam, January 2014

It was still early morning and I was standing at the little harbor of Chau Doc, a border town in the Delta. The Mekong here is wide and muddy. To my left out in the river, a few houses floated on the rubber tires and plastic cans as a speed boat took Mijung to Cambodia.

I turned my gaze away from the boat and joined the early risers on a stroll along the river.

My feet stopped where a group of guys played Jianzi (a Vietnamese shuttlecock game), and for a moment, I got lost in the pace of the game.

Careful enough not to disturb the play, I took my feet around the circle, away from the river and on to the tar road that led me straight into a market crammed by the river.

I entered under the canopy of the yellow sheets to the fresh fragrances of lemongrass, ginger, basil and other herbs. And then to the colors of beetroots, radishes, tomatoes and egg plants. A little further, the market became exotic with frogs, snails and squid on offer.

I made a stop at a corner where an old woman was selling bananas.

Now, only a traveler can understand the real importance of bananas. They are cheap, easy to carry and have immense energy …especially useful during long walks or painful bus journeys.

So with a dozen bananas in a plastic bag, I came out of the market and headed back to my hostel.

 

***

“Oh you go to Saigon?” the hostel owner enquired.

My hostel was an old-fashioned building of colonized era. And though the rooms were basic, the narrow balcony on the second level allowed a really nice view of the busy street below. Also, it was extremely cheap!

But it was my fourth morning in the town, and I thought it was time to move on.

“No” I replied as I handed the money due.

I didn’t exactly know where to go, but the bus stand seemed like a nice place to start. And so my backpack strapped, I began the walk under the morning sun.

The bus stand was about four kilometers from the hostel. But under the benign morning sun, and with the old architecture on either side, the walk turned out to be a success.

It was only a small square that served the little traffic to the town and at the moment there were only a handful of vehicles parked.

“Here”, I said, as I heaved my backpack up to the guy on the roof of a twenty-seater.

Curious eyes followed me as I took the seat near the rear window. I was the only foreigner in the bus that day and probably I was the only foreigner that had ever gotten on that bus. So I kept my eyes out the window and took out a banana.

Even though the twenty seats had been occupied the bus didn’t start. There is always room for more people, at least, that’s how it works in Asia and so we waited.

There was a little chaos regarding the front seat as a few craned their necks for a better view. A baby started to cry, and the commotion increased. And through that, an old woman wanted to get out of the bus. The collector lady expertly handled the situation. The old lady was sent back, as more people were entering the bus, while the front seat was given to the rightful owner. Nobody could do anything about the crying baby though.

And just as the chatter subsided and the bus was packed with four babies, a couple of chicken, two packs of lemons in addition to thirty-odd adults, the lady rapped twice on the metal bar, and the engine roared, well, only for a moment.

An hour later, I found myself perched on a little stool, outside, by the bus. The inspection team that was having a look at the engine consisted of the driver, a noodle shop owner and two school kids, who seemed to be enjoying this delay. The old lady who wanted to get down earlier had finally made it out and was trying to have a conversation with me in Vietnamese, with only a little success.

When the engine finally rattled again, she patted me on my back, as if I had played the main role in the repairs.

As the bus hit the road and picked up a good speed, slowly, the local commuters in the bus began to doze off and soon enough, I closed my eyes as well.

An hour later when the bus made its first stop, all was quiet. Half the passengers had gotten out and newcomers had replaced them. Among those was a family of four. The father, a middle aged fellow, with a wrinkled face, greyish beard and oiled jet-black hair, took the seat next to me, while his wife and two little children settled down in a better seat in the next row.

“You are traveling here?” he asked as he settled down.

“Yes!”

“A short holiday or…like…long travel”

“Well, I quit my job... so…till the money lasts…I guess”

“Ah I see…” he replied, scratching his beard as we started to move again.

“You don’t look from here…” I began.

“Well, I am Vietnamese, but I was in the US for a long time. I worked in Australia for five years as well. ”

“Ah”

We were going along the Cambodian border, the main cities and civilizations far behind us. The bus cruised on the narrow tar road, passing several rice fields and little villages in the country-side. The air was fresh as new and the weather was moderate.

“So you are heading to Phu Quoc island?” he continued the conversation.

“Nah. I heard it’s expensive during this time”

“Oh yes, it is expensive and it is difficult to get hotel reservations during holidays”

“I am on a tight budget, so I guess I’ll skip it”

“Hm. So why Ha Tien?” he asked, a little confused.

“Oh this bus goes to Ha Tien? I just paid the money and got in”

“Really?” now his wife joined in.

“Yeah. I was tired of doing all the research on a computer. So thought of trying something new”

The rest of the journey turned out to be a lot quicker as I shared friendly conversations and snacks with the family and by the time the bus hit the little town, I had already made new friends.

The clouds covered the afternoon sun, when I finally got off the bus at the penultimate stop, as directed by the father, since the last stop was about two kilometers away from town.

I parted my way with the family with a quick goodbye and with Google maps guiding me, headed in the direction of the town center.

Ha Tien is at the western end of the Mekong Delta. The small settlement was initially started by Mac Cuu, a Chinese adventurer and the traces of this age old culture are in abundance in this little town. The town slowly lost its prominence and faded away into the history during the times of modern war.

Though it is a pretty little settlement, the town never really found a place on a traveler’s map. But daily ferries to Phu Quoc Island allow a little tourist traffic, if only for a couple of hours.

Naturally, there aren’t any backpackers’ hostels here and instead, the accommodation mostly consists of business hotels.

A long walk through the town had yielded me no good result and when I stepped onto the marble floor of a posh business hotel, I only had a little hope.

“How much for a night?” I asked at the reception.

“7 dollar! Free breakfast and Wi-Fi” the lady replied.

“No….very expensive. Do you have a cheaper room?”

“This cheapest room sir. How long you stay?”

“Couple of days, I guess”

“If you pay for two days now, I give you for 5 dollar a night”

“Done!”

I had absolutely no complaints about the room: A hot shower, a king sized bed, a mini-bar, a TV and the Air con. At five dollars a night, it was a steal!

And so, I handed my passport to the lady, got checked in and decided to explore the little town.

Rarity is a novelty and as I walked through the empty streets, I was followed by half a dozen giggling kids. Every time I looked back, they would hide behind bushes, or walls or even electric poles. Even the adults could not hide their curiosity as they poked their heads out the window or over the compound wall.

My feet led me to a little green hill dotted with a numerous tombs: the final resting place of Mac Cuu and his family. The tombs here are decorated with figures of dragons, lions, phoenixes and guardians, according to the prominence of the person resting inside. The biggest of them all is of Mac Cuu himself, constructed in 1809, and decorated with a green dragon and a white tiger.

I walked through the maze of narrow stairs to the fragrances of burning incense sticks and flowers offered by devotees. Birds sang a melody through the thick tropical trees as I breathed in the serenity all around.

Yet, it’s a place that now belongs to the dead and I couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious as I strolled in its peace.

I hit the Mac Cuu Street again, and kept walking towards the end of the town and soon, came upon a rectangular lake, a spot for relaxation for locals. I sat down on a bench that looked over the still water. As the sun began to set, the tinge of the water changed and the street food stalls along the lake came alive.

As various fragrances filled the air around, my stomach gave out a rumble reminding me how hungry I felt.

“How much?” I asked an old woman who was selling the most important meal in the Vietnamese cuisine.

Pho is a staple of the diet here and is also considered as one of the most balanced meals. It is a noodle soup that consists of flat rice noodles, a clear beef broth, a choice of meat, bean sprouts and then the garnishes of Basil, Culantro, Green Onions, Red chilies etc.

At under a dollar a bowl, this bowl of perfection became my instant favorite after arriving in Vietnam, and even over two weeks on, I still loved the flavor.

The woman didn’t speak English and instead, pulled out a 10,000 dong note from her little purse and showed it to me.

And so, I enjoyed my first real meal of the day as the setting sun set the lake on fire.

***

The next morning, as I ate the free breakfast (consisting of instant noodles and coffee), I began to plan the day that lay ahead. I had already seen most of the town and the online travel guides didn’t offer much information.

So, after the light meal, I rented a bicycle for a dollar and decided to explore the outskirts.

About a kilometer outside the town, I came to a fairly quiet street that ran along the ocean. While to my left was the deep blue water, to my right, a green hill rose. The road wound its way around the hill, playing hide and seek with the ocean.

The salty breeze was free, the waves played a beautiful music and on the deserted street, I began to enjoy the ride.

About an hour along the ocean, I came across a metal gate to my left. A large board on a side read “Mui Nai Resort”.

As I entered through, I passed a little security booth, but nobody stopped me. The ocean was still in sight, partly hidden by tall palm trees and a few restaurants that lined the beach.

With my bike locked against a metal bar, my feet carried me under the canopy of swaying palms. I came out of the palm jungle to the sight of dazzling blue water. A dozen or so children floated on the colorful tubs, under the careful gaze of their parents, while a group of guys and girls enjoyed a game of water volleyball.

White tables and chairs lined the beach under the bright colored umbrellas as the weekend crowd enjoyed the sea food treat from the shacks.

I took a lounge chair under a cherry red umbrella and ordered a beer.

The dazzling water here is the eastern edge of the ocean that is trapped between the three countries: Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand. The water is calm, warm and perfect for swim. It is a nice getaway spot for the locals, who drive down from the little towns in the vicinity.

As the sun began to soar high in the sky, the temperature increased and the early morning crowd started to dwindle. Couples came out of the water holding hands, while parents forced their children out… and slowly, the shacks started to close down.

I ordered a meal of prawns and fish just before the closing time and by the time I unlocked my bike again and pushed it through the sand, the place had become completely deserted.

The maps showed another way out to the main highway. It took me through a small security check point and out into a tiny village. Slowly the flora around me changed and gave way to the more common, rice fields. Small houses sprouted through the fields like mushrooms and the farmers looked up as I passed by.

The afternoon sun was sharp, but the canopy of dense tropical trees provided me cool shadow under which I pushed on.

“Misterrrr” came a shout from behind.

As I looked back, I saw four boys chasing me on the little bicycles and so, I slowed down.

As they caught up with me, one of them held out his little cap and then pointed at the blue cap I was wearing, a sheepish grin on his face.

Their clothes were torn and those little bicycles seemed to have been made out of junk, yet their smiles were genuine and careless.

“Hm. We race. If you win you take my cap, if I win I will keep it, ok?” I said.

To my surprise he understood the language.

“Ok! My friends also race” he replied.

“Sure”

I gave them a head start. Once they were a couple hundred meters ahead, I began paddling. It didn’t take me too long to catch up with them and soon I was ahead and gaining the speed.

But the challenger did not give up and soon, I heard grunts from close behind, as he pushed hard to catch up with me.

I still remember the look of delight on the little fellow’s face as we exchanged our caps and hoisted them in the air, celebrating his victory. These little experiences always lighten one’s mood and bring out the feel of happiness.

The boys accompanied me for a while as we communicated through their broken English, exchanging questions and answers. But as I got closer to the highway, they turned around and waved me goodbye.

I hit the highway and began my journey back to the town, as I reflected on the first few days of my travel. It was still an early stage and I had a long road lying ahead of me, but at least, I was now certain about one thing: I was made for it!

I still had a lot of time left on my three-month long visa, but having spent over two weeks in the Delta I was now keen on moving back to Saigon and then head north. In addition, I had already explored the little town of Ha Tien and was craving for company of other backpackers. With that in mind, two kilometers out of the town, I made a little stop at the bus station.

“No have”, the woman behind the window said, emphasizing with her hand-gesture. “Chinese new year festival over. So everybody go to city now”

“Tomorrow?”

“No have….four days after…ok”

A little dejected, I pushed back to the town under the sharp sun, as beads of sweat rolled down my neck.

***

“Hey man! You are still here” I heard someone shout from across the street, as I was coming back from my evening walk.

It was the Vietnamese-American I had met on the bus.

He was sitting among a group of local men and by the looks of it, a game of Xiangqi (Chinese chess) was in full swing. A bucket was kept on a stool, crammed with slabs of ice and beer cans.

“Still here” I answered as I approached the group.

One of them pulled a can from the bucket and handed it to me.

“There’s not much to see here you know. I thought you would have already bolted out of the town”

“It’s not so bad! The room’s cheap, people are nice…” I said as the crisp taste of Saigon refreshed my senses. “Well, also getting a ticket out proved tough”

It was my fourth day in the little town and slowly I had gotten restless. I was considering to hitchhike my way to Saigon, but finally, this morning, I had managed to get a ticket on the bus for the next day.

“Ah, now that makes sense. Come, have a seat”

The sun had set now and the street food stalls had sprung up to life as usual. The activity on the street had increased, and most of the passersby stopped by for a word or two with the fellow, who seemed like a famous personality in the town.

“I grew up here…so everyone knows me...” he said after a long chat with an old man. “And these are my cousins” he added, as the group nodded.

As the stars began to twinkle in the dark sky, plates of dried fish were brought from inside, along with a fresh bucket of beer cans, while the conversation continued.

“So Aniket, is that right?” he asked opening a fresh can and passing it to me.

I nodded.

“How’s India man. Is it similar to here in Vietnam? I think we all are culturally same…I mean in Asia”

I considered a moment.

“Well, it’s similar. We have tight families, like here. Children grow up with their parents and they live with their parents. Though cities have a different scene. But, I think India is even more conservative than most of the other Asian countries”

“You gotta be kidding me. I watch Bollywood movies” 

“It’s not easy to explain….now that I am here, I understand how conservative people back home are. Best example’s alcohol. I cannot imagine drinking rice wine with my parents!”

“Ah”

“Also the religions and gods have a lot of influence on the Indian culture. The fear of god has always been used to stop people from doing certain things. So, alcohol is bad, pre-marital sex is taboo, meat is banned in many families…because these things go against the religion or the god”

“I can’t live without meat”

“Well I can” I said with a smile and continued “I had first piece of meat when I was 25 and my first sip of beer too”

“Wait, what?”

I found myself chuckling at his reaction.

“It’s a different culture. Many things are considered bad and are frowned upon by the society. Conservative!”

“And still your capital is famous for rapes!”

I was stunned by the blatancy of the statement. It must have shown on my face as he quickly added, “Don’t mean to offend you. But if you have such a conservative culture, one would think that such things won’t happen”

“You are right, and many travelers ask me about it” I said as I took a sip of the Saigon, “Frankly, it is quite embarrassing. But not the whole country is like that!”

“Every country and every culture has its negatives, man”

“And the positives”

There was a silence for a while.

A dog came, sniffed at an electric pole, marked its territory and went on its way.

“I like this”, he said, as he chewed on a toothpick and looked at his cousins who seemed to be drifting off now. “US was very busy. Australia was expensive. Asia is better. It is home, you know what I mean.” He thought for a moment and continued, “You are doing great man! I have never met an Indian traveler. You seem like a brave person….”

I didn’t find any words to respond and instead took another sip of beer.

He stretched, opened a new can and said, “I grew up on these streets. Then I studied hard because I wanted to move up the financial ladder, you know. Earned a lot of money in the US and Australia. I thought I would be happy…” He shook his head. “I don’t know how we did it, but we have made our whole life look really small. We are zooming past the present.” he made a sweeping motion with his hand and then for a moment, got lost in his own thoughts.

“But you have a nice family now”, I said after a while.

“Yes got a family now and I’m lovin’ it…but”, he paused, looked back at his home and said. “We need a change in our attitudes. I cannot believe I ran behind money all my life, only to realize I never really spent it for things I wanted. And then I meet people like you who remind me that there’s more to life”

“There’s gotta be more to life. You know I’m an accountant by profession and when people started to call me that, it made me realize that my life was revolving only around my work. My life was restricted to what I call an artificial bubble. There’s of course, more to us than what we do for living. Also, there are so many new things we can learn or try…. If we only live once, I want to try as many new things as I can!”

He raised his beer can to that.

We sat there an hour more, while his cousins snored softly and the moon traveled in the dark sky.

Though I had never given it a proper thought, now, I was beginning to realize the importance of my decision. After all, when my bones are weak and my face full of wrinkles, I would rather not have any regrets.

As the street grew quieter, his wife came out of the house and patted him on the back.

“Time to go, mate” he said, rising up from his chair. “It was so nice to meet you again”

“Alright! Thanks for the…..” I began

“Don’t even mention!” he replied quickly, as he picked up the empty plates. “And thanks to you….I have realized….I don’t want my kids to make the same mistake”

I said goodbye and began the slow walk on the deserted street, under the dim glow of the street lights, as my mind raced with the thoughts.

I realized that the things he had told me were the things he had buried deep in his busy routine. On the pretext of leading a good life, he had given up all his dreams. In fulfilling the dreams and expectations of people around him, he had forgotten to live for himself!

I believe, we were born, with the most important objective of being happy and satisfied. Each one of us has to work hard to live in this competitive world that is exploding with new technologies and innovations. Everyone goes through the highs and lows during this journey, we call life. And hence everyone deserves a chance to be happy, a chance to fulfill his or her dream, a chance to finish this long journey without any regrets.