Checking in.

We are at a little shop in North Vietnam after a pretty night in Halong Bay. More to come. 

Off to Laos tonight. 

Futsal in action

We are not the first group to descend on Alta Vista and run some kind of soccer camp or tournament. But we are the first to bring Futsal and the first to give specific attention to girls. 

Christ for the City runs these "after school" athletic programs to keep kids out of trouble and to provide for them intentional role models who point them to God. The coaches that I worked with this week support 4 levels of play, with approximately 2 coaches per level. The word I had learned for "coach" in Spanish was Entrenador, but here the word they use is Profe (like the first part of "professor" but with the accent on the o). 

The Profes have been very interested in using Futsal in their soccer school. And today we got to see it in action. 

Mornings at the soccer school start out the same. The players roll in (punctuality is not important here in the least) and walk right up to their Profe to greet them and shake their hand (very respectful and honoring).  The players are gathered on the steps for an opening prayer, then a 5 minute encouragement about staying out of trouble and focusing on God, then a prayer (followed, of course, by tons of soccer). Each day that we were there we added a little twist - one of the Northrup girls would stand up in front of the students and give a breif devotional that they had written. I was very proud of Gillian, Aubrey, and Shelby. Each of them prepared, entirely on their own, and delivered poignant messages with a scripture verse. 

Then we got to playing - this time the soccer school coaches were running the sessions and I got to observe. The Profes ran their sessions while playing Goal Keeper, just like we do at ESC and the way I first saw it done prior to that. I won't bore you with play by play Futsal action, but the review from the coaches afterwards was great.  And what I observed was even better. Remember, you couldn't ask for a better student than a poor kid from a developing country who watches, thinks about, and plays soccer all the time, and who is voluntarily at a camp. High soccer IQ. Needless to say they pick up on stuff quickly. 

At the end of the soccer school, we all exchanged kind words and I gave the Profes some gear. I actually gave one guy the shirt off my back. Kinda funny. I am really "blanco" and they loved it. 

On the way home for lunch, Aubrey spiraled into sickness - this time not stomach crus but malaise and fever. Bummer. So we had a little curveball for the afternoon. 

Lauren was kind enough to take Aubrey to her apartment to lie down while Christian, Josue and I met up with Maltez at a different school where I was supposed to coach a women's Futsal team. Maltez had been using my visit as bait to attract people to be introduced to his Ubabalo ministry. Come meet a Profe from the U.S., but first you will need to listen to a bit about the Ubabalo curriculum. We arrived at about 1:30 and sat thru the last hour of his Ubabalo overview while Gillian and Shelby made thank you cards. 

A bit of bad parenting to share. At one point I told Shelby that the bathroom was down the stairs and to the right down a hallway (Ubabalo training was done in a classroom). After about 20 minutes, Josue mentioned that Shelby wasn't back yet. In a panic, I found Shelby crying in the bathroom - she didn't have any toilet paper. Nice job, Dad. Thank goodness for Josue. Had he not mentioned something, who knows how long she could have been down there. 

Once Maltez wrapped up I introduced myself to the room and got us out to the court as quickly as possible. These people were here for the Futsal - I knew that.  As it turned out, there were decent "chicas" Futsal players there, but none from a federation team like I had been told. This was a random assembly of older girls. Very few of the collection of chicas played on the same team together and there was a wide range of skill. Some of them were on good Universoty teams and could play; some struggled a bit. 

Also there were ten Salvadorian Futsal Profes who were there to learn from a Gringo. 

All in all it went verywell. The girls played/trained for about an hour. I stood with the coaches and we shared ideas. They asked some questions and Josue would translate for me. I trained the girls quite a bit - much like I would do back home. With a hodgepodge of players and talent there are certain things that can easily be addressed in a setting like that and certain things that are not really relevant. But we talked thru some theoretical tactical stuff too and I drew pictures. There were two men's team players from the Univerisity as well, so I used them as Goal Keepers and demonstrated a bit how we run our sessions.

And, of course, after the girls were done the coaches played against each other, me included. Put a round ball on the ground anywhere in the world and 9 out of 10 people are up for a game. It is an international language.

Because of Aubrey's illness, we decided to move things around a bit after the afternoon session. So instead of a nice dinner out, Josue and Lauren got Chinese takeout for us to eat at her apartment. It wasn't good Chinese, but I loved the idea.  I was in the mood for something different. 

We are now split up between two apartments in the same complex. No more mission house. No more soccer or Futsal. The "work" part of our trip is over. Friday (tomorrow) is a fun day and Saturday we fly back to the States. But this was far from work. This was easy. CFTC has been incredible in their planning and organization. I am impressed with what they are doing in El Salvador and they have a good collection of people on the ground. I would do it again. 

Time to wrap up our thank you cards!

Hanoi and Happiness

We are wrapping up our time in Vietnam.  Just two more days and then we make our way to Laos, then Cambodia and then back home sweet home.

I woke Quinn up at 3:40 this morning because I couldn't sleep and decided to finish up the blog from last night, the clicking of the keys and the light I used to see probably kept her from sleeping soundly...probably.  Anyway, I felt bad about it, but she got even with me by trying to be grouchy for about five minutes when I finally decided we needed to get moving. I dragged her out of bed at 6:30 with many protests but we are in Hanoi (!!) and there is a walking path around a lake nearby that I wanted to hit since really, when will we get to do that again??

We crossed this street twice!

After a quick breakfast, we walked out the front door of the hotel into the thick humid air.  We actually made it across two busy streets using the walk slowly and stare down the buses, motor bikes and cars that are driving directly toward you method, and it worked!!  Seriously, nearly fifty vehicles were flying at us and we had to take a deep breath and just step into the street and be brave strong and actually turn off that ingrained mechanism in our brains that said "RUN!"  I know I have mentioned this ad nauseum, but the traffic is crazy around here.

Mattress guy

At our cabin in the summer, I could almost sit for hours just staring at the fire, it is calming and peaceful even though it is hot and dangerous.  That is exactly what watching the traffic in Vietnam is like.  It is mesmerizing watching the near misses and random bobs and weaves of thousands upon thousands of vehicles.  There are legally only two lanes in the road, but in practice (and I am not exaggerating) there are often fifteen to twenty cars and bikes and buses and motorscooters across all performing some sort of graceful dance of movement.  (Another sighting of a man with many pigs in a basket, by the way today...also another mattress, wonders never cease).

Okay, what I really meant to say before I got hypnotized by talking yet again about the traffic is that Quinn and I walked around a pretty lake in the middle of Hanoi near our hotel. The lake is called "Turtle Lake" because it is chock full of guess what?  But, we didn't see a one, I guess they come to the surface other times of the year.  In the middle of the lake is a Buddhist temple that is 1,000 years old.  Beautiful trees surround the lake and there are rambling walking paths all the way around.  And, they are full full full of people.

At Turtle Lake

All of Vietnam, but especially noticeable in Hanoi is the outdoor culture of people gathering at all hours to talk, sit and contemplate, eat a meal, play badminton, soccer, smoke a pipe, and perform interesting "exercise" moves.  We have seen it all today.  There were hundreds of people out especially performing their morning exercises which varied from slapping their legs all over in random patterns to swimming movements while standing up to windmills to torso twists and other movements that were inexplicable.

After our walk, the heat really started bearing down and we joined our little group and went together to a temple to see some more of the culture of this country.  The little village we went to worships a man who came and helped the village people some 700 years ago.  It was a labyrinth of altars and incense and Buddhas and ancestors and was all very beautiful but hard to concentrate on since the air temperature was approaching one million degrees, I mean 105.  The air was still today with no wind and heavy humidity so by the time we got back to the car we were limp with sweat.

After a return trip back to downtown Hanoi, we visited a museum, an outdoor museum, that displayed the various houses and costumes of the different people groups of Vietnam.  Very interesting except that it was so hot that it was miserable.  Even my knees were sweating buckets, Quinn's hair took on new dimensions in the humidity and we both started speaking gibberish...just kidding about that last part.  Anyway, the point of the museum is that many many cultures have converged in this country.  Some of the groups I remember: Hmong, Dao, Thay, Cham...also of course, Viet.  Each with their own cultures and traditions, this place is truly a melting pot.

Can you see the electric power lines??  Woah.

Okay, I won't bore you any more with details but, we wrapped up our day with a water puppet show featuring traditional music and puppets that dance over the water, and also another walk but this time through the old quarter of Hanoi with its little stalls and squalid living conditions (even the narrowest of alleys can house 25 people and do) and pretty colors of the many things that are being sold and eaten.  That's just the thing, the colors and the people and the vibe here are lively and upbeat but the truth is that it is very dirty and chaotic, too.  All of it is mishmashed together and it washes over you like the relentless humidity, you feel it and succumb to it and accept it.  The pandemonium somehow works.

Old Quarter Hanoi

Water Puppet Show

Children play in a pubic square

The last thing that happened today was when we all sat around and listened to Phong answer the question, "What is your happiest memory from childhood?"  He has told us so many hard stories from his time growing up in the countryside outside of Saigon.  He and his brother had to collect by hand the cow dung from around their village to help keep their family home warm. The children in the village called them "Dung Boys," and laughed at them.  All eight family members slept together in one room on a table (a traditional one meant for sleeping) until Phong was 17 years old.  When he was eight years old his mother was hospitalized with a undetermined condition in which her leg swelled "and looked like an elephant's," in Phong's words.  His father had to sell all the furniture and everything they owned to pay for her medical care.  When they ran out of money, the doctors just sent her mom home and they thought she would die (she survived but it took it's toll on their family).  Phong rode his bike to school 10 miles one way every day until his bike was stolen and he had to walk.  I could go on and on, but after telling us all this, he said to us that his happiest memory was "All of it."

All the struggle, the pain, the isolation, the worry, the abject poverty it made him who he is today.  A soft spoken, thoughtful and kind man who has been able to travel around much of the world and has met people from all over and shows them graciously his country.  I have learned a lot here on this trip, and much of it will probably fade over time, but I hope I never forget Phong's response to the question about happiness.

The Island

Up before 6:00am, a quick breakfast, pack the "micro" (pronounced mee-kro and meaning mini van or small bus), and we headed out beyond the city streets to "the island".  The drive itself is about 1.5 hours. Then unload the micro and load a long boat.  Then ride the long boat into mangrove swamps for about 45 minutes. Then unload the long boat on a "dock" platform that looks like it belongs in South East Asia (see Janna's post). Then load a pickup truck and ride it Salvadorian-style to a small church-like structure. 

As a Geography major, I do have a general curiosity about spaces and places. And this "island" thing has been bugging me. Where is this mysterious place anyway?  The drive took us to the coast but then google maps just sort of went dark. In fact, while we were in the ferry boat, google maps had us in a grayish place that was neither land nor water.   I gathered that we were in an estuary of sorts, in water that was probably brackish due to the fact that the water level fluctuated with the tides. 

By the time we reached the landing at the island, I realized just why this place is not really on a map. We were well beyond civilization. 

It had a Louisiana bayou feel mixed with West Virginia, the Jungle Cruise, Deliverance and Apocalypse Now. As we ferried up the river, the mangroves were impenetrable. All you could see were the wooden jail bars of the mangrove trees with lush green above them. Our passage way got narrower and narrower. Finally we reach the landing. There was no sand, just mud. And the dock was made by the 2nd little piggy (out of sticks - just testing you).

The first human we came into contact with was a boy, maybe 8 years old, covered head to toe in dirt wearing only underwear for bottoms.  Then other kids biked up and waited at a distance until our pickup chauffeur arrived. It was the only car I saw all day. The rest were bikes and a lone horse. This is by far the poorest place I have ever been. 

Remember the three boys I have told you about who live at the mission house? Christian, Harrison and Billy. This is their home. Thugs have started to take over the island and made life hard on some of the people there. Harrison and Billy, the two with death threats, were awkwardly sad as we left them at the mission house. They couldn't come with us to their home. 

But Christian was with us. It was his show today and we were along for the ride. 

We ended up at a nice home or church. I don't know what it was, but Christian's mom was there with a big hug for her son. It was bordering a large soccer field that was in way better condition than anything thus far in Soyapango. Christian had gotten the word out well in advance that we were coming to put on a soccer camp. The kids were already there. Boys and girls alike. After about 10 minutes of us standing around waiting for some kind of green light, I finally just opened one of my bags, got out some cones and some balls and started laying out some activities. The first one was merely a line of cones to weave thru. I laid down two cones and a little boy with no shoes politely grabbed them from me. He wanted to help. I just counted and pointed uno-dos-tres and he took over from there. In less than 16 seconds about 30 kids were weaving thru the line of cones one after another. Laughing and skipping. Boys and girls. 

This bought me time to lay out some other activities. All told we had four stations, including a mini game field. 

While I got out pinnies, Christian divided the kids into groups. Jake, the head of CFTC down here, Shelby and I manned the game field, Gillian manned a station, Lauren and Aubrey took one, and Christian roamed (we abandoned the original line of cones and let that remain as a "walk up" activity for the kids who were filtering in). 

What a riot. These kids were just an impoverished version of what you would see at a rec league camp in Minnesota - some were in to it and some weren't. But the main difference was: these kids just loved that someone was paying attention to them.  These kids spend most of their days doing absolutely nothing. They probably used up their imaginations long ago. So when we showed up it was a carnival. 

Btw, all the kids were barefoot and dirty. A few had flip flops, and would put them on their hands to play soccer. 

The heat and humidity on the island is almost unbearable. I drank a gallon and a half of water and did not pee for 13 hours. By lunch time we were all beat down. And, to be honest, I was dreading an afternoon session with "older boys". 

But after some PB&Js Christian took us on a life changing journey. We walked part of the island to various huts (shacks, lean-tos) and gave a bundle of provisions, including food clothing and a bible, to poorest of poor families in the poorest of poor places on the earth. 

The first place we stopped (the above picture, hut on the left) had 8 people living in it. Christian was amazing. In His native language, to a family he knows from having lived there his whole life, he shared the Gospel and prayed for the family. He was eloquent, confident, and humble. I was amazed. 

We walked to the next hut and Josue asked me if I would want to address the next family. I was way into it - up until I walked up and began to address them. A strange feeling overtook me - I didn't feel worthy. Here I was standing in front of a shoeless, toothless man who had little hope other than what God could provide him and I am overwhelmed with humility. I almost started crying. 

I was able to work my way thru a makeshift sharing of the gospel along with a prayer. My girls handed them their food, clothing and bible.  It was very special. It was an honor. 

It is almost pointless to tell about anything else. Cliff's notes from here on out. 

Instead of an afternoon camp we just played a pickup game with the 16 or so boys who showed up. After we gave them all some soccer gear and old athletic clothes, all of which Tim Hawkinson managed to get to me prior to the trip. 

The traveling circus act known as "The Juggling Northrup Girls" wowed the island boys. The only person who could beat Gillian was her own sister Shelby. No island boy came close. 

We packed up quickly then pickup-ferry-micro'd our way home and ate a delicious meal by our wonderful cook, Marybell. 

Tomorrow is our last day of action. Two Futsal sessions. One of them is supposed to be particularly exciting...

Just the Facts

The Pool overlooking the beach

Sitting by the pool for the morning hit the spot for us.  We spent our last morning in Danang looking out over the pool at the China Sea, watching the waves crash and catching up on some reading.

Now we are in Hanoi and as a teaser, I will tell you that it is the prettiest and most unique city we have seen so far, totally unexpected, but I will address that tomorrow since we just got here and haven't gotten a proper look around.

So, since it was a quiet day and not much to report, I thought I might mention a few other facts about Vietnam that have surprised or interested both Quinn and I and keep us busy talking and wondering about.

The tiny black spot in the middle is a water buffalo,
sorry that's the best I could do...maybe another pic
later...

Money: First, the currency in Vietnam is the dong.  And, it turns out that about 22,000 Dong equals $1.  When I first got here and exchanged a hundred dollar bill, we received nearly three million dong in return.  So, that was easy, we are millionaires.  And, it sounds like the dollar would go really far here, but a bottle of water at the pool today was 45,000 dong (a little over $2).  Only a few water bottles might just wipe us out.

Water Buffalo:  Water buffalo are nearly everywhere in the rice paddies that line almost every road we have driven down.  They are a companion to the farmer, who spends many hours with their water buffalo working in the fields.  Our guide tells us that in the countryside, the water buffalo is considered a part of the family.  If you ask the farmer how many children he has, he will reply, "I have x number of children and 1 water buffalo."

Face Masks:  Women cover their faces with masks not only for health reasons over here, but especially to ward off the sun's rays so their skin stays light.  Phong reminds us that we all want what we don't have naturally, so fair skinned people in much of the world want to be tan and here, women pay lots of money to keep their skin pale.  Most women on motor scooters wear long pants, long-sleeved shirts and socks and even gloves as they zoom along in the 95 degree heat.  So, they get a good steam bath it seems while they travel; two for one.

This woman is eating river snails
she just gathered in the morning
for  snack

Plumbing and Refrigeration:  There is no indoor plumbing in any of the houses outside the city (and some within).  It is just not done.  Most families have a well, must boil their water and have a sort of outhouse outside.  What is most interesting about this is that even the newly built houses are like this.  Secondly, even if a house has a refrigerator, they only use it to hold fruits...not meat.  The women shop twice a day for their meals and so leave out their fresh fish, chicken, beef or pork all day.  They purchase it in the small villages from the market stalls where the meat has not been refrigerated either.  We walked through the stalls of a remote market and there was really no off-putting smell of rotting meat even though big hunks of chopped meat were lying around, so I agree, it is probably fresh...but still I would not want to eat it.  Especially since it has been in the upper 90's every day we have been here.  (we haven't been sick yet, but I am afraid to ask if the meat in the hotels is refrigerated either, what I don't know is best).

Occupation:  Phong tells the history of the Vietnamese by a litany of those who have occupied this country.  The Cham, the Chinese, the Thai (Siam), the French, and the list goes on. (Which is to say, I wish I could remember all the stuff Phong tells us, because I know there were more occupiers, but my memory can only hold so much.)  Anyway, I find this interesting because I wonder how this history has affected the social consciousness of these people.  I think it has.

Dogs:  In South Vietnam, they keep dogs for pets/protection, most of the pets look like some variation of the Shiba-Inu (not sure if I am spelling that right) that my brother- and sister-in-law own.  In North Vietnam, some people keep dogs for pets but the word on the street is that if your dog gets outside unwatched, he may be served up for dinner at your neighbors house. We have passed about five dog restaurants already in Hanoi.

Danang is famous for it's marble

I guess that's enough info for today.  I could go on and probably will if I were to be asked about things when I return home.  (Fair warning.)  But I will leave off today saying that we are now in the oldest city in Vietnam, Hanoi, which means "City on the Water," for the many lakes that are here.  More to come tomorrow.

Quinn still has a dry cough (we think allergies, her throat itches like crazy) and we fall in bed pretty exhausted every night from our brains taking in so much plus Quinn is tired from the Zyrtec and me from my Dramamine.  Our stomachs seem to be okay, just a little rumbly now and then, but all is well.  We have a few more days in Vietnam before we head to Laos, and the next days promise to be beautiful...Halong Bay soon.

What an adventure.

What a day

The above picture represents only about half of the kids who came to our "Soccer Camp for Girls" today. You can see that very few of them are actually girls. The girl turnout was similar to yesterday, about 12, but news hit and boys streamed. 

So why not? We just ran a camp for all of them. 

Let me just say that it was not easy having my plans translated to a team of soccer coaches (from the school) and then having them take what ever the heard thru that interpreter and put it into action. But we got there. Some of the early activities were a mess, but yet somehow worked. It was crazy, actually. 

Gillian, Aubrey and Shelby all helped out. They demonstrated activities or helped with first aid or gathered equipment. They even participated some. 

Towards the end I had planned a "World Cup" event that is commonly used at ESC camps. But you know what the boys were clambering for? "Técnica! Técnica!" That meant they wanted to watch the Northrup girls juggle a soccer ball and even challenge them to contests.  Fine by me. 

The coaches were all super grateful and gracious. It was a big success. 

After some lunch and R&R at the mission house, we headed back to Alta Vista for the continuation of the Futsal training with the soccer school coaches. 

When I got there the coaches were horsing around with a simple game of naming a country that starts with the last letter of the previous country. If you failed in 10 seconds, your punishment was anything. One guy had to roll in the dirt, another had to sprint across the field and back in less than a minute. Another had to climb a fence blindfolded and find his way back in to the complex. Classic stuff (if you are a guy, I think).  I played with them, although I am not sure any of the caught that I snuck in Antarctica after a run on "A" countries. (Yeah it's a continent - not a country)

But we all wanted to play Futsal. They wanted me to train them, too. But, imagine having a pool of the 10 best soccer players you have ever personally seen all playing on a Futsal court together. I just wanted to watch them play - it was gorgeous.  Plus, all but one of these young men had never played with a Futsal ball before, so they were like kids on Christmas Day with a new toy. No water breaks for over an hour. Furthermore, one of them currently plays for the men's national Futsal team for El Salvador. He was amazing. After about 20 minutes, and after only offering one coaching point, I put on a pinnie and just played with them. It was probably the greatest "soccer" playing experience I have ever had. Why? Because everything I see on the field that I want my players to do, these boys did. Every anticipation, every run. It was amazing. We all knew where to go and why we were going there.  I was the oldest on the court by 9 years. I was out of shape and the weakest player there. But it didn't matter.

 Above is the Futsal dude. He is also a "Freestyle" competitor, which means he can juggle a soccer ball like a savant. 

We went home for shower and dinner and some relaxation time with the three young men who are living at the mission house: Christian, Billy, and Harrison - two of whom are basically refugees after threats were put on their lives in their town. Their story is sad. They have nothing - not even a home. And yet they help out and giggle all day long - with each other and with the Northrup girls. They don't speak English and we don't speak Spanish and yet we chit chat each evening using hand gestures and laughter. Pretty cool. 

Tomorrow we shove off early early for "The Island" for a morning and an afternoon soccer camp. This is a very poor part of El Salvador that needs some love. Looking forward to a road show. 

Danang to Hoi An

Well, I am a little preoccupied by the two people across the ocean whom I love who are suffering with stomach troubles.  We are thirteen hours ahead of Soyapango and so it works nearly perfectly that I can talk with Jeff before he and the girls head to bed right when I get up and then when they get up we are wrapping things up here and we can check in then.  It is hard to be so far away and especially since there's not a thing I can do...except pray.  So I do and will keep that up.

See the pigs in the basket?

In the meantime, another traffic report:  We have seen a man on a scooter toting a wire cage chock full of live pigs.  Our guide even waved him over so that we could snap a photo of him from our little van.  He smiled a big smile and accommodated us tourists.  We also saw two men with an eleven foot ladder.  Eleven feet.  The creativity makes for endless wonder.

On the beach with boats in distance

We are now in Danang and arrived last night after a quick hour flight from Saigon.  Danang is halfway up the coast of Vietnam and is a city that was used extensively by the US military during the war for R&R.  You may have heard of the beach our hotel sits on:  China Beach.  Quinn and I got up early and walked down the beach a little way and watched the long low fishing boats go after their catch this morning with the sun's early rays.  It is beautiful here and peaceful, although here, like every part of Vietnam still has the residue of the war.  Most of the city was destroyed during the war and so now it is being rebuilt as a tourist resort town and the building cranes and concrete trucks are keeping busy.

I am not sure if I have mentioned breakfast yet either.  We get up each morning and head to a breakfast buffet at the hotel and have been sticking to a mostly Vietnamese style breakfast which revolves around Pho.  We eat our Pho (soup with noodles, beef and condiments) with coffee (me) and tea (Quinn) and a little cup of yogurt and fruit.  I asked Phong and he said that he rotates between pho and congee and banh mi for breakfast.  All savory, light and steaming hot ways to start the day.  I have tried some spring rolls and dumplings as well, but the Pho is the best.  The later in the morning you get your Pho, too, the richer the broth as it has more time to simmer.

sampling the Pho

Okay, now on to our day.  We spent the day exploring the area around Danang on our way to visit the ancient city of Hoi An, an UNESCO World Heritage site.  We first stopped in a little village where the people were gathering at the market to sell their fruits, meats and fish.  It was not a regular tourist stop, so we were the only foreigners around and the people gathered in the streets stopped us, smiled, tried to make small talk and ask questions about which mother went with with child (we are touring with one other family).  One man who weaves hats was worried about Quinn not wearing one and insisted she take a newly made one for her head.  They made us feel welcome and we left the little village all smiles.

Later, down the road, we stopped at a school (the schools here function the same way Jeff described the schools in El Salvador, one group in the morning, another group in the afternoon) where children were pouring out into the street to walk or be picked up by motor bike and be taken home.  As we approached, their faces lit up and they waved and smiled and welcomed us with giggles and "Hello!"  Quinn was in heaven.

We also got to visit a collective organic farm where a village grows crops by share and sells to the local restaurants.  We saw mint, lemon basil, lettuces, pumpkins just blooming, peanut plants, and so many rows and rows of vegetables.   It made us hungry and actually was a very beautiful and well organized place.

Back on the road, we drove on to Hoi An, our ultimate destination for today.  Hoi An is a city built on a river (Han River, I think?) and has the architectural influence of the Chinese and Japanese traders that once used the river to transport goods.  The houses that are in the old part of the town are three to five hundred years old and even though the city floods nearly every year they are beautiful and strong (made of something called Ironwood).  We wandered around the city, ducking into a temple and wandering around the shops, it is now a major tourist destination and the shops sell tshirts to magnets and lanterns to beautiful silk clothes you can have custom made in only two hours.  After taking in another visual feast in this town and having a literal feast of fish and vegetables and dumplings for lunch right overlooking the river, we shopped for about thirty minutes and headed back to the hotel.

My favorite part of the day were two things.  First, Phong translated a sign in the schoolyard with a list of the expected code of conduct for each school child.  The list included these very wise directions...When you leave for school say goodbye to your parents and your grandmother, Greet your family when you return home after school and your neighbor if they are there as well, Be kind to those that are afflicted, the weak, the lame and those that need help, also pregnant women, and Be kind to tourists, don't run away.  There were other rules as well following along the same lines, ultimately charming and evidently the children have embraced the rules, because they made us feel so welcome.  Second.  Quinn and I were shopping around the little village and when I asked her if she wanted to find something, she told me this,

"Mom, money can't buy the happiness I felt when I saw all the children wave and smile at me when I walked by."

She's right.