Time almost stands still at Vietnamese town of Hoi An
By Kunang Helmi Picard
HOI AN, Central Vietnam (JP): On a recent visit to the show "Gold of the Indonesian Archipelago" at the Guimet Museum in Paris, a discrete ceramic bowl almost entirely covered by silver under gold plating reminded me of the active trade which went on between Vietnam and Indonesia for several centuries. The ceramic bowl with its lid originated from Vietnam, and probably left Vietnam for its new destination at the port of Faifo, as Hoi An was formerly known.
We spent five restful days in December 1994 in Hoi An where time almost stands still. Even the long years of war seemed to have left hardly any trace of violence. Although located only 30 kilometers south of Danang, where the American B-50 bombers almost eliminated the town, a scene of fierce fighting, Hoi An was spared most of the ravages of war. During the war with the French colonial power, this now tranquil port town was also spared much of the fighting because it was the administrative capital of the region for the French. Many of the buildings stand now as they did a 150 years ago, with quaint two-story wooden houses covered by tiled roots and a magnificent covered bridge, said to have been of Japanese origin.
Faifo was one of the most important ports of Southeast Asia during the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries. At the height of its importance, the port, which was a contemporary of Macao and Malacca, was an obligatory stop for merchant ships from Holland, Portugal, China and Japan, among other countries. Vietnamese ships based there voyaged to Thailand, Indonesia and other re gions of Vietnam. Apparently the recent discovery of ceramic fragments prove that the region was already inhabited 2200 years ago, when the Sa Huynh civilization reigned, linked with the Dong Son culture of North Vietnam, at the end of the Iron Age.
After the 15th century, a relatively calm period ushered in the prosperous era of trade where products of the region were sent far afield: high quality silk together with other fabrics, paper, porcelain, tea, nuts, pepper, Chinese medicinal plants, ivory, beeswax, mother-of-pearl, lacquer ware, sulfur and lead. Chinese and Japanese traders arrived in the spring to take up quarters until summer, profiting from favorable winds as this was the age of wind driven sailing vessels.
Material traces of their presence are still to be found and some 1,500 Chinese-Vietnamese still inhabit the inner town among the 600,000 Vietnamese. The Japanese were prevented from returning after 1637, when all contact with the outside world was prohibited by the Japanese government.
At the end of the 19th century, the bottom of the river Thu Bon was gradually covered by sand, which rendered sailing almost impossible and preceded the rise of Danang as a port and center of commerce, eclipsing the literally stranded Faifo, or Hoi An, as it is now known.
Although its importance as a port had diminished, the French, as already mentioned, then installed the town as the administrative capital of the region, thus ensuring its continuing importance. Nowadays, the little town still offers a picture of undisturbed calm where the occasional tourist is treated well and can ride around the streets on bicycles, almost blending into the surroundings. How long this will last is anybody's guess as it is already a welcome stop between Danang and the imperial capital of Hue, almost a hundred kilometers further north.
Hotel Hoi An offers the most varied range of accommodations in its large colonial style rooms, just outside the main town, near the closed market. Bicycles are a must as they permit small excursions into the surrounding rice fields and countryside. One can even take them on the many ferries, which connect Hoi An with the small villages up and down the river. For the adventurous, a boat ride down to the mouth of the river is a must and contributes to understanding the economy of the region. A brief stop at the boat-building island, a half an hour's sail away, is a welcome treat. The variety of wooden boats and ships still built by hand using traditional methods is quite imposing. All the bigger ships have watchful eyes painted on them, while tarred rounded baskets also serve as smaller vessels to skim over the water. These large baskets require almost acrobatic skills to stand up in and propel over the sometimes troubled waters, but the Vietnamese have been doing so for centuries and continue to do so, ignoring modern motor boats.
There is even a colony of people living on their sailing boats just opposite the boat quay of Hoi An. Entire families live here, with babies playing apparently without fear of losing their balance. Solemn grandparents preparing food suddenly burst out laughing at the funny foreigners sailing by and peering at them with cameras poised. Television antennas crown many of these floating quarters, while others have smaller rowing boats with which to take the tourists on a small tour around the estuary. Visitors enjoy sitting on the quay relishing the traditional food or an evening drink, while the sun sets on the river and the mountains in the distance. In the morning the market nearby is the scene of furious bargaining, especially among the fisherwomen selling the fresh catch of the night before.
Cotton is still woven here, but silk is imported from other towns. Thus an astonishing range of fabrics is available at the market. Many are the willing tailors who promise to sew a new wardrobe overnight for a low fee. Others beckon with offers of antique ceramics for varying prices and quality. Only those who sell Chinese medicinal herbs refuse to sell to the visitors unless they are willing to visit their old wooden houses or pagodas. These visits always end in requests for donations which are still modest, considering that the tourist budgets here are also the modest kind. We were asked to enter an old wooden house by an elderly lady who spoke excellent, although somewhat antiquated, French, liberally quoting from works of literature. Here we witnessed how several generations shared the same quarters and were rewarded with homemade French biscuits baked by the same genteel lady.
Entertainment at night is reserved for dining in leisure at a bewildering range of small restaurants and perhaps taking a drink at the port. Eating is never a problem as the number of ambulant vendors is never-ending and the local speciality of Cao lau noodles very filling. If one is lucky, quite a few billiard tables are available with willing opponents to while away the time. These neon-lit billiard dens, which are generally part of a family abode, are a regular feature of South Vietnam and Central Vietnam. Television sets generally blare out in the rooms next door, and offers of tea are also an never-ending feature of social life. Although the tea cups themselves are tiny, the contents are very potent. The darker and more bitter the brew, the better, much to one of our traveling companion's distaste and growing inability to conceal his suffering.
Bicycle rides to the countryside away from the river took us to several small pagodas where the increasing number of monks attest to the growing freedom of religion during the past few years. Tombs of Japanese traders dating back a few centuries can still be found under charming gnarled trees, with quacking ducks marching past in neat rows guided by young children.
The sun can beat down quite ferociously, so Vietnamese straw hats are very useful for longer trips as they can even be used when it rains.
After one or two days, we began to entertain thoughts of staying here for several weeks. Because life seemed to continue at such an agreeable pace, the thought of returning on a frenetic journey up north to Hanoi was discouraging. However, the realization that the imperial city of Hue and its temples and pagodas, was within close reach, forced us to rent a resplendent old American vintage car complete with a young dynamic driver after five days of bliss. As we left the town behind us and headed for Hue, I hoped that tourists would not spoil the leisurely atmosphere. I was even willing to put up with even more small cups of bitter tea, but certainly not with bottles of coke on our next trip to Hoi An.