Fili’s world

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This one is worth starting from the end. I’m 200000dong shorter than I was two hours ago and I’m not sure how I feel about it. 200000dong… it’s like 15 dollars or 70 shekels… in Israel it would mean something like a T-shirt or a big meal. But in Vietnam it’s worth about 5-6 meals or maybe two nights for a foreigner but means the world for a local.

As we were about to part I kept wondering how I could help this Vietnamese man and his family so I simply said - “Thank you, I had a great time today. It would mean a lot to me to give you something in return only I have nothing with me. Is there anything I could offer you to repay your hospitality?”. He thought about it and replied that what all he really wants for himself and for his high-school kids is to have a Vietnamese-English dictionary. I knew there was no way for me to get one for him so I asked how much would something like that cost. Around 200000dong was the shy answer and a small siren immediatlly set off inside my head. Is it possible that this day was just a hoax to get me to give him the money? even if it was - does it matter? I had a wonderful time, I saw and heard more of real Vietnam in a day than most see in a month, and how much is that money really worth to me? Digging in deep I knew I was feeling very protective and affectionate towards this family. It was that moment that I realized that I would give him the money, in fact - I knew that had he asked for it I would have given him much more.

Just like with the lake scene - it didn’t take long for him to join up with me. I was still getting used to this old motorbike I rented, trying to figure out how I’m suppose to drive when nothing, including the speedometer, seems to work. I was driving across the bridge to the local market to try and have my shaving machine fixed before the CIA has me associated with Ben-Laden for my long beard. He started driving next to me and asking me how I was doing and where I was from. After exchanging a few sentences he asked if it’s possible that he would invite me to eat with him since he would like to practice his English. Relying on my Hanoi student positive experience I went along with him. At that moment I had no idea that I was actually agreeing to drive 9km to his country-side farmer’s house outside Hue and truth be told - I was scared. Is he going to rub me? will he put something in my drink and rape me? there were all sorts of scenarios going through my mind, but I figured that I’ll decide once I get there and learn more about this guy. As we arrived and I was introduced to his gorgeous-looking family I knew I had nothing to worry about. I take back what I said about ugly Vietnamese, it seems as though it was only the northern Vietnamese tourist-folks. We were served with tea, stuffed-chicken-yummy-noodle-soup and pineapple and have had long conversations about life in Vietnam and Israel. I won’t go about writing all that I’ve learned, which is a lot, but sufficient to say that southern-Vietnamese see things WAY different than northerns do. They really have it bad for joining up with the Americans back in the days, like you wouldn’t believe. Cutting story short, he took me out to see some famous Emperor’s tombs outside his village and to meet some of his local friends. I was extremely overwhelmed.

It’s been a long day and I need to return my bike. Maybe I’ll take up on the city-tour that this Vietnamese girl from the Indian restaurant offered me after implying that we should get married so she can have children with blue eyes (and for me to take care of her poor family, ofcourse…). I really like and feel for these people. Maybe I’m too naive, but I don’t care. It’s my small tribute in the quest for the good-nature of people.

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