Beach!

On Thursday afternoon, my mother informed me that I needed to talk to my teachers because we were going to the beach for the weekend and I had to leave school at lunchtime for us to be able to make it there on time. Despite initial complications, I eventually got permission. At 1pm on Friday, Mom, Bro, Sis, Grandma 1, Grandma 2, Grandpa, and I (along with a driver) piled into the family SUV to go road tripping. Four hours, 200 kilometers, many snacks, a bathroom stop on the side of the road for the grandparents, beautiful mountains, and lots and lots of bumps later, we arrived in Sam Son.

I could immediately tell when we were there, because funnily enough a beach town in Vietnam has the same feel as a beach town in America. We drove down wide streets passing hotels, food stands selling seafood, and vendors selling sea shell wind chimes and bracelets. The first hotel we stopped at required me to have my passport, which at the time the school had (to make hotel reservations for another trip), so we had to find a different hotel. But we quickly found another hotel that didn’t require my passport, and all was well.

Since it was a little late for swimming, we unpacked and then headed to dinner. Here I saw another quirk of Vietnamese society. In America, some restaurants and even cafés do not allow you to bring your own food or drinks and will even kick you out if you do take your own food. But when we went to this seafood restaurant in Sam Son and sat down at the table, the grandmothers pulled out fruit and Cokes and other snacks to last as appetizers until the main meal arrived. Other SYA’ers have had similar experiences. Just another quirk. But the main meal was delicious: steamed clams, spinach with garlic, French fries, and chicken—an eclectic but tasty mix.

On Saturday, we woke up early, shimmied on swimsuits, snatched towels, and sprinted down to the beach to swim. The water was surprisingly warm, like bathwater, and the waves were small and several seemed to break simultaneously. The sibs and Grandpa and I frolicked in the water for an hour or two while Mom waded and the grandmothers chatted with the locals. The ocean is so calming and relaxing—I really love the beach. But Vietnam is unique because beach people and mountain people can go together to the same town, and both will be totally satisfied. In Vietnam, the mountains meet the beach.

Before lunch, we all hopped back into the car and drove partway up a small mountain nearby to visit the pagoda at the top. We burned some paper money and incense, took some photos, drank some fresh coconut milk, and returned to the hotel for a lunch similar to dinner but with the addition of fresh crabs! The pagoda on the second day was even nicer. I felt like I was experiencing a slice of heaven as I sat on the side of a mountain, sipping coconut milk out of the coconut, overlooking the sapphire blue ocean dotted with fishing boats, living the life! Then we returned to the hotel for the never-neglected afternoon nap, a very sensible practice which Americans have yet to appreciate.

Swimming in the afternoon, several of my fellow beach-goers begged for photo ops with me. Naturally, I willingly obliged. Here I must explain one of the biggest differences between Vietnam and America and one of the hardest things to get used to. Walking down the streets of Hanoi, especially certain parts, and especially the beach town of Sam Son, everyone stares. Virtually all the time, I am the only Westerner in sight, and I may be the only Westerner to pass by that spot all day or even all week or longer. In some ways, Vietnam is very homogenous. I don’t mean that critically but purely as a fact. Walking down the street, everyone I see is Asian, specifically Vietnamese. With my blonde hair, blue eyes, and light skin, I stick out like a sore thumb. Everyone stares. Some people point. Others shout, “Hello!” Occasionally I hear, “You are beautiful!” I’ve had taxi drivers pat my arm and ask for my phone number. Boys and girls lean in, their fingers held in the ubiquitous peace sign, posing for a photo with me. In fact, I’m really still not accustomed to all the attention. In DC, I can walk down the street wearing a makeshift toga and people don’t stare as much as they do when I wear normal clothing here. I know that if any of them were to walk about in DC, no one would give them a second glance because DC is really so diverse in so many ways.

After dinner, my sister and I jumped onto a two-person tandem bike and rode up and down the street along the beach, racing with my mom and brother on their own tandem bike. We beat them solidly. :)

I really had a wonderful time at the beach, resting, relaxing, and bonding with the family. I can’t wait to go again!