The song of Vietnam

It has been a very noisy two weeks here in Hoi An.

Starting on January 23rd we had the Lunar New year festival, locally known as Tet which starts quietly with families burning ceremonial paper clothing, money, shoes and   poems in pots on the street outside their homes. In this ceremony they are sending the kitchen god up to the heavens to report on the behaviour and activities within the home over the past year. 


Our landlady (whom we call Auntie) came to the house with her brother and one of his daughters and the youngest son.

They brought with them a feast of whole boiled chicken, spring rolls, rice and cold meats. There were five fruits, flowers and new joss sticks for the altars in the garden, in the kitchen and upstairs in the studio.  They burned ceremonial paper goods in the lane outside the house and the kitchen good was sent off to speak with the Jade Emperor for a week.  The kitchen god  likes to ride on a red carp and some people throw fish into the rivers to send the kitchen god on his way.

• The release of the strong-swimming carp into local ponds, rivers and lakes, is believed to transport the Kitchen God to heaven. After delivering the God, the carp transforms into a dragon.
• It is said that the God will then report to the Jade Emperor on the life of homeowners and pray for luck, happiness and prosperity for all members of the house in the coming year.
• The Kitchen God returns to Earth on New Year’s Eve (February 9 this year) and resume his duties as the caretaker of Vietnamese kitchens.

Throughout all this, the Vietnamese, who love to sing, hold Karaoke parties in their homes and at local cafes.  they don't care how loud or how badly they sing; they just sing their hearts out. The older generation remember a time when public singing and public music was not allowed so now they make the most of the freedom to sing and celebrate. 

Tet lasts about a week ( or so) and on the last night they really let rip! A party at end of our lane was so loud that the windows rattled in the studio and the water in my pot rippled! At 9.15 everything stops like nothing ever happened. That is the one great thing about this country - everything stops before 9.30 and the streets go quiet.  

Huge lanterns blowing the evening breeze

This week, 14 days after the New Moon, we had Full Moon night in Hoi An. I have never seen the streets so busy. We had to fight our way through the crowds to get from one end of Tran Phu to the other. On these nights there are no electric lights allowed in the streets apart from the lanterns. The waterfront was completely dark apart form the odd candle-lit table in a cafe and oil lamps on the boats. it was magical.

Table altar outside the bookshop

A gallery owner tends his altar on the street outside his shop and makes offerings.

Lantern lit riverscape

Music filled the streets and the young people and families promenade in the crowded streets to see the sights. We listened to classical guitar on one of the boats moored along Bach Dang waterfront and ate near the Japanese bridge where we watched town elders playing Chinese chess dressed in traditional silk pyjama suits.

Two days later and its time for a feast at the local temple. we arrived to see tables laid out with fried spring rolls, fatty roast pork, boiled pork and blood cakes, salad and white garlicky sausage. Larue beer flowed freely and the old men went from table to table shaking hands and topping up everyone's glasses.


Everyone in the neighbourhood gathered, took a seat and enjoyed the feast. more food was brought in waves - now baguettes, now bean sprouts, more salad and bowls and bowls of pork broth. Everyone is laughing and drinking.The old men offer cigarettes around the table.

Mot Hai Ba Yo!

Mr. Hung had been on the sauce since breakfast I reckon. With his larger than life personality he missed his calling in Chinese opera!


The lady below is 84 and has a beautiful set of painted black teeth but she was reluctant to give me a smile.  

This guy arrived at out table to show off his skills by making a bird and a grasshopper out of palm leaves. We gave them to as little boy and girl.

A woman with a beautiful voice stood up to since a traditional song without any accompaniment. Everyone was quiet for a little while.  Then the men started to sing and a boy band was formed. Finally all the singers sang a popular song and the entire party clapped along in rhythm.

Here is Phuong and her lovely husband (below). 


Their family is in the middle of a funeral. An uncle died suddenly and the funeral ceremonies last for seven days.










 The lonely wail of a single stringed  'violin' has been winding its way around our little streets for two days, occasionally interspersed with the slow drum and gong rhythm that seems to signify a vigil. 

This morning at 4.30am, the saddest song founds its way into my room; an unusually melodic song of a male choir that really chilled me. I couldn't sleep again.  

Here is Phuong with Robert and Bill. 




And.... Robert with another lovely local.

I don't think I have ever attended such a jolly party in my life. These lovely people laugh and sing with abandon. I danced with one of the girls and came close to taking the mic to sing them a traditional song from the UK. That must have been the beer!  A good time was had by all and the party continued long after we left. 

Back home, the drunken singing from compete parties is drowning out the ever-present funerary dirges which will last for another two days I believe.

Lunar New Year in Saigon

Saigon has ground to a euphoric halt. The first day of the new lunar year is a rare public holiday and the Vietnamese spend it with family, eating traditional food, giving small gifts of sweets and money, playing games and relaxing.

This tray of traditional sweets is not for the faint-hearted. Each sweet has been prepared and wrapped by hand - nothing mass produced here. The candied ginger is as hot as chilli and the mashed fig and stoneless dates have been mixed with a sour sauce that leaves Haribo sours standing. I cannot understand why any Vietnamese men who have been brought up on these don't have hairs on their chests ........ or maybe these sweets are the reason for them being hairless!

No businesses are open; no shops, no buses, no bars and very few restaurants. There is hardly any traffic on the road. Half of Saigon has left the city to return the land of their ancestors. Vietnam is a newly industrialised and urbanised nation so all families still have parents, grandparents, cousins, brothers and sisters in the countryside and provincial towns. 

Prior to the new moon night flower markets pop up all over the city in parks, street corners, bridges; in fact anywhere where there is an empty space to display Hoa Mai trees, yellow crysanthemums, marigolds, cherry blossom, bougainvilla and miniature orange trees in fruit.

Vietnamese travel from all over the world to return home to their ancestors so it's impossible to get an internal flight, a train, hotel room or coach ticket unless you booked it months ago.

Local people, who have lived in our lane for generations, have smartened up the family graves by the  side of the road, by burning back the weeds and giving the stonework a lick of paint. 

The neighbourhood communist party office have hung banners from lamp posts on the main road and hung some jolly  'hammer and sickle'  bunting across the lane





Everyone cleans their homes, paints the front wall. scrubs the yard and chucks out rubbish and old clothes in preparation for the new year. 

in Vietnam the bins are emptied every night - yes, you heard me- EVERY night! the truck comes round with a team of 'sorters' on top and they sort all the glass, plastics, cans, tins, paper and cardboard. Most housekeepers enjoy making a bit of extra cash by taking bags of recycling down to the depot. 

I remember, as a child, there used to be a penny to threepence  deposit on lemonade bottles that encouraged people to take them back to the shop for recycling. Some young PhD economist will revive that idea as a revolution in eco-living one of these fine days and all the over 50's will roll their eyes in a 'granny suck eggs' kind of way!! Oh well.

Saigon city centre has really rolled out the party with street lights, flags, pedestrianised streets and by turning one of the main avenues into a fantastic garden and floral display with fountains, a waterfall, and acres of glorious flowers. There is a book festival and a sidewalk exhibition of all the different ethnic groups in Vietnam. Everyone comes out to pose and pout in front of the displays and to promenade in their best clothes or traditional outfits.







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At ten o'clock at night we walked a mile or so to the Thu Thiem bridge to secure a good spot to view the midnight fireworks over the city skyline. they were fantastic and the gathered crowd whooped and cheered as they grew bigger and brighter and higher.