Biking in the Country

This afternoon I went biking around Cao Lanh. Sometimes I bike in the city itself, which I enjoy, but my favorite routes are those around the city in the countryside. Biking in rural Vietnamese is a truly unique experience. The macadam of the city streets slowly gives way to white pavement. Many of the country roads feel like I'm riding on one giant driveway through the jungle. But jungle isn't really quite the right word. The plants are tropical to be sure. The areas outside of the city are filled with palm trees, coconut trees, banana trees, and other tropical plants, but the roads are lined with houses. All the animals are domesticated, though. No tigers or monkeys here. It’s sort of like the suburbs, but without that artificial planning feel. These areas have developed organically.

Still, it's all quite a sight to take in. As I ride through the country, chickens strut along the street next to my bicycle while dogs rest in the shade. Children play in front of their houses, sometimes stopping to stare at me, the strange foreigner. Some of the kids cheerfully yell "hello, hello!" as I ride by. The adults go about their business. Some dry rice in the sun, right on the road itself. Others cut and sort wood, or peel fruit. Shopkeepers mind their storefronts. Almost everyone seems rather shocked to see me, but return my greetings of “xin chao”.

If I ride far enough the giant driveway turns into sand or mud. I’ve traveled pretty far, but I haven’t gotten lost yet, because almost every road runs parallel to a canal. If I have to, I can usually just follow the canal back to the city. Water is never far in the Mekong Delta. Given such a waterlogged geography, there are also a lot of bridges. Most of these bridges are of sturdy wooden constructions, but every now and then I’ll cross one that looks like it could use a few more boards. I see motorcycles with two or three people going across with no hesitation, so I figure my bicycle should offer no difficulty. Still, the creaking and the lack of railings don’t do much to boost my confidence. Occasionally I’ll see the famous “monkey bridges” of the delta. These bridges have no hope of carrying my bicycle, because they’re only made of two thin tree branches. The branches run parallel, one on top of the other, and are separated by about a meter and a half. The idea is that the person crossing the bridge puts his feet on the lower branch and his hands and the upper branch. The user clambers across with rather surprising speed.

Even though I don’t plan on crossing any monkey bridges any time soon, my bicycling in the county have been some of my best experiences in Vietnam. When I’m in the country I feel like I really get a look at how the Vietnamese live. As much as I love visiting places like Can Tho and Ho Chi Minh City, and as much as I’d like to see major tourist destinations like Nha Tranh and Dalat, I can’t help but feel that this is a slightly distorted view of Vietnamese life. To be sure, many people live in the cities, and yes, some people live at places where the tourists go, but I consider myself incredibly fortunate to be able to go where most Westerners don’t go and see what life is like for the majority of the country’s inhabitants.