Letters from Indochina (Part 27)

This entry is part 27 of 43 in the series Letters from Indochina

April 26, 2025

Letters from Indochina (Part 27)

By Simon J. Lau

This morning I spent time observing the early morning rituals of village life. Out in the fields, I noticed many people weeding the rice paddies. Weeding is essential for rice farming — if left unchecked, weeds can choke out young rice plants and rob them of vital nutrients. Farmers often collect them for practical uses: some are edible, others have medicinal uses, and many are collected as feed for livestock.

In this case, I spoke with the man who just finished harvesting this wheelbarrow full of weeds. He was on his way home to feed his water buffalo — a simple but striking reminder that in rural Vietnam, nothing goes to waste. Not even the weeds.

Later, I passed by a man making chopsticks. At first, I wasn’t sure what he was crafting, so when I approached and asked, he thought I wanted to see what he was watching on his smartphone. That misunderstanding made me laugh. Eventually, I learned he was whittling chopsticks by hand, which would later be bundled up and sold from his small roadside shop.

As I walked back to my homestay, I stumbled across something jarring: rusted, decaying bombshells placed inside a brand-new children’s playground. The contrast was chilling, but not surprising. In Vietnam, reminders of the past aren’t tucked away — they’re often left out in the open.

When I returned, I found that my driver was already there — 30 minutes early. (I think Vietnamese might be the only Asians who sometimes show up not just on time, but early!) Unfortunately, like yesterday’s driver, he had the same reckless style — weaving through traffic and cutting people off on the highway. Still, you have to admire their skill. With the way they handle those Transit Vans, they’d make incredible getaway drivers. I couldn’t help but think of Baby Driver.

For now, I’m just passing through Hanoi on my way to start the Ha Giang Loop. I’ll be back soon for a proper stay, but here’s a quick photo I snapped of a local street vendor making her way through the Old Quarters.