Worthwhile Wake-Up Call

I woke up early and sleepily trudged to the bus that would be taking me to one of the most authentic forms of entertainment in Vietnam, or so everyone said. I was skeptical. In my pre-coffee haze I started to question why an early morning water puppet show had sounded like such a good idea.

Maybe I was intrigued by the ambiguity involved with Vietnamese water puppetry. It takes two to three years of training in school to learn the secrets of crafting the bamboo puppets. Historically, some shows were performed in villages in secret so that overruling governments couldn’t copyright them.

Our bus arrived and we assembled into a small outdoor amphitheater with a pond-sized pool where you’d expect a stage to be. From seemingly out of nowhere, a cast of bamboo characters appeared on the water. They erupted into an intricately choreographed routine.

I finally awakened from my slumber after the first splash of water on my face. The energetic, multicolored puppets held my captive attention for the rest of the show.

The puppeteers came out from behind the back curtain at the end of the show to reveal a bit of the mystery. During the performance, they wade in the pond and operate the puppets from underneath the surface of the water.

It’s clear they’ve put a great deal of practice into the routine, and their beaming faces suggest the amount of pride they take in their performance.

Water puppets are integral to Vietnamese culture; they represent a commitment to detailed craftsmanship, and emphasize the significance of education. The puppets have been used in the rice and rain ceremonies. They even suggest a certain gender division of labor. Our speaker tells us that women were not allowed to know the secrets of the puppets until 1956. He says, “Since then, the shows have become more gentle and beautiful.”

The puppet show is one I recommend to anyone traveling in Vietnam. It’s bright, entertaining and bound to make you smile. It’s worth waking up for.

Catching a Buzz

My good friend and seasoned traveler Leah Olson discovered weasel coffee during the several months that she lived and backpacked in Vietnam. She regurgitates what she found in an article about the country for Ethos Magazine, which I was proud to provide the photos for.

I often write in coffee shops - I settle into a freshly brewed cup of java and flow to the caffeine buzz that follows, attempting to sync head and hands completely as I convert rambling thoughts into text-heavy journal pages. Here's a direct excerpt from one of the best coffee producers in the world.

I'm in tune with the rhythm of the world today. I'm marching to the beat of whatever grand drum is pounding out there and somehow finding contentment in the midst of the insane chaos that is Ho Chi Minh. Maybe it's timing, maybe I'm becoming a skilled traveler, or maybe I lucked out. I'm sipping caramel coffee at Trung Nguyen. Body and mind are at peace while buzzing motos speed past, flashing lights in the coffee shop window. We're in writing moods, occasionally stopping to share excerpts, jotting and sipping. We are right in line with today's cadence. While in Vietnam I'm finding the universe. 

A Place to be Savored

The Mekong Delta dominates Southern Vietnam. It's a 15,000-square mile network of channels and streams that empty into the Mekong River. Known as Vietnam's "rice basket," the region feeds the rest of the country, in essence. And it's the lush home for countless species, more than one thousand of them which were discovered within the last decade. Recent news articles spout conflicting opinions about the future of the delta, some in favor of mass preservation of the area, and others hoping to develop it with more extensive infrastructure. With 10 million tourists who have already visited this year, I'm not surprised the Mekong Delta is high on media radar.

I'm also not surprised at that striking number of tourists -it's a beautiful place. It makes for relaxing days of floating down canals on sam pam rowing boats while munching on sweet lychee fruit, swaying side to side in hammocks above the water to the sounds of banjo bands behind, and strolling through the waterside marketplaces. There is locally farmed honey and coconut candy called Que Dua to taste.

Life moves a little slower on the delta. It's simplistic. Neighborly. Archaic even. These photos remind me of the authenticity of that place, and the fact that it should be savored.