I light my torch and wave it for the new moon on...saturday

February 27th
Hoi An

The open-ended bus ticket is the way most backpackers and budget travelers get from town to town in Vietnam. It's a simple and cheap way to see the country, at about 50 bucks to travel its entire length. You make your reservation the day before you're ready to move on to the next town, and away you go. It keeps you pretty firmly trapped on the tourist circuit, but let's face it: I'm not exactly studying marine biology over here. So it was on my rickety TM Brothers tour bus bound for Hoi An from Nha Trang that I encountered one of the lowlights of bus travel: the overnight sleeper bus. It could have been worse, but, man, it was not good either. I was the first person to board the bus. It was lined with two tiers of bunks, three across. As I am tiny and have short legs, I took a window seat on the bottom and was immediately and firmly told “NO! 25 B! You go now!” I tried to argue but it was futile. Up onto the second tier of filthy bunks I climbed and was just trying to figure out where to put my bag when I was once again yelled at, “SHOE OFF NOW!” Man, these bus guys really must hate their jobs. I gave him the dirtiest look I could muster and sprayed bunk 25B down with Lysol, hoping some caught him in the eye. And that was a precursor to how it went for the next ten hours, our bus driver and conductor taking turns pulling over and peeing on the side of the road when all of us were dying for a bathroom break (The buses here do not have bathrooms on them. Even Cambodia's tourist buses have bathrooms for crying out loud.), chain smoking while we couldn't open the windows for fear of rolling out and dying, and the best part: the broken air conditioning. The vents worked, but they just pumped stale, hot air on our faces all night. The highlight was definitely the 1AM stop in the middle of nowhere. We all watched in horror as the driver had himself a FULL MEAL, amidst audible prayers that we didn't contract cholera from the filthy, flooded squat toilets.

I lied. The highlight was pulling into Hoi An, the best town I've visited in this country so far. It is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and one glimpse around the old city tells you why. The town was a major trading center in the 1800s (and maybe earlier), and had been settled by Chinese and Japanese, among others. The architecture reflects this, with pagodas and Chinese assembly halls lining the streets. By some miracle, its buildings suffered little damage during the war and are preserved quite well. While touristy, the town defines quaint.

As my room was not ready at 7AM when we pulled into town, I dropped off my bags at yet another stellar guest house. I was greeted with cinnamon tea and cakes, then headed off to get my bearings. I went straight to the market which was in full swing at that hour. I tried to snap a few photos but then stopped – these people were working and had no interest in being the subject of my photos, especially if I wasn't buying their wares. Instead, I headed for the food. I was the only western person in the market at this time, which meant I was getting a few stares. No worries, a woman who was dishing out a ton of food gestured for me to sit down on her little (and I mean doll-size) table and stool. I was in awe with the sheer quantity of dishes she had on display. There had to be 20 to choose from. I pointed to some yellow noodles (the Hoi An specialty), some roast pork and spring rolls that she was just taking out of the oil. She smiled and gave me another kind of noodle and some vegetables too (“you no pay these, just taste”). As soon as I sat down to eat, all the women around me started to soften. One brought me tea, another gave me a slice of some fruit that's halfway between an apple and a turnip. It was all delicious, and I spent less than $2. I immediately liked this place.

Madame Cua, who ran my guest house, told me that I had arrived on the best day. It was the first full moon of the lunar new year, and the town was celebrating that night. It marked the end of Tet and the official start of the year of the tiger. She said that all motorbikes and cars were barred from driving through the old town after dark, and that lanterns would line the river. As every street in Hoi An was already adorned with lanterns for Tet, I couldn't imagine more. I'd met some nice ladies who invited me to join them on a river cruise for the celebrations. The river was swarming with people, all of them holding paper lanterns. When we boarded our boat, I understood. All of the lanterns were to be placed in the river, with a wish for luck and prosperity in the coming year. Families from neighboring towns came to Hoi An for this occasion, so the town was packed and the river was literally ablaze. It reminded me of Christmas on the beach in Thailand, except those maniacs were shooting fire crackers at the paper lanterns. This was decidedly more subdued. Our river cruise was short at only 30 minutes. It was just enough time to make a wish, launch 50 or so paper lanterns into the water, snap a few photos, and take in the scene, happy to be where I was.