Corona stories

Tuesday, April 21, 2020

Number 14: Vietnam 1995

Food of the world

They say that the Virus originated from the food market in Wuhan, either by transfer from a bat or a pangolin. I doubt very much that even the Chinese eat bats, but I guess they eat almost anything else, and the virus could have been transferred from a bat to another live animal in the food market first. How that could have been a well protected pangolin, I don’t know.

Food stall along the street

Preparation of birds for consumption

Fresh poultry for sale

The little birds are for sale alive....

....or fried and ready to eat

I always was a fan of eating strange creatures for the try-out. I think I better change that. In China, we had snake, toad, dog, turtle, lizard and I don’t remember what else. Everything was tasty and we never got sick.

In the streets of Saigon 1997

Another good spot for exceptional food is China’s southern neighbor, Vietnam. One day, we met a couple of young American Vietnamese. Their parents had left the country in the exodus of 1975 and started a new life in the promised land of California. Like a lot of other exiled Vietnamese and ex GI’s the sons came back to visit their parents’ country of origin after the borders were opened in the nineties. They had motorcycles and took us on a hell’s ride of a sightseeing tour through Saigon.

Rush hour

One of the sights we had to visit was the animal market. A hall was packed with cages, which themselves were packed with creatures. The smell and the cacophony of frightened, distressed, annoyed or painful screams was dreadful. An animals’ hell. One of our new friends bought a snake, which he expected to smuggle home. I guess at that time the custom laws of importing strange stuff were not so strict, but I doubt that the snake survived the flight in the luggage compartment of the plane. They also had a strange liquor, where a snake, a chameleon and other ingredients were dissolved in alcohol. Supposedly the liquor was helpful for all kinds of ailments.

The animal market

Turtles, snakes, a little monkey and a dog for sale

A little baby crawling around in the animals' shit

A snake and lizards in cages

The bird, a symbol of freedom

Annoying a cobra

One of our friends bought this snake

The liquor described in the text, made of layers of different animals disintegrated in alcohol

In the evening, we were taken to the night food market. We ordered pints of beer and received an English menu. On the menu were delights like cow’s penis (sic), frog or snake. That was not all. They also had a fried kind of maggot. Our friends recommended the maggots as the experience you will never forget. For the price of two dollars a piece, they indeed were unforgettable. The maggots are planted in a coconut, where they grow fat from the flesh and milk. The guy from the restaurant came, opened a nut in front of our eyes and pulled out a maggot the size of a thumb. Normally then these maggots are fried. One of our friends declared that they would taste even better alive after being soaked in beer. So with his chop sticks he dipped the writhing maggot in his beer jar. After some soaking, he raised the delicacy to his mouth and bit on it. The maggot splashed an aerosol of beer across the table. Our friend’s complexion was more one of surprise or disgust than of pleasure. The fried maggots however were a treat.

Dinner at the night market

Getting the maggots out of the coconut

The treat is ready

First bite

A lot of people look down on the eating habits in countries like China or Vietnam, or parts of Africa, where they eat the last remainders of their wildlife. I don’t know whether we have the right to point our fingers while we have wiped out most of our own wildlife already hundreds of years ago, while we keep pigs and other domestic animals by the thousands in a confined space not much bigger than their bodies and call for arms at the first sight of the reintroduction of the former widespread, now unknown like a couple of wolves or the lonesome bear. We are all from the same breed.

Number 13: Canada 1997

After nine month of winter ...

In 1996, KLM had overbooked a flight and we got a voucher of 500 $ each. So I looked forward to book a flight for another trip. But at that time, KLM was not a budget airline and all their flights were at least 500 $ more expensive than their cheap competitors. Eventually we ended up in Halifax.

A little port in Nova Scotia

It was begin of June. In Nova Scotia the trees had their first fresh green. The result was such an onslaught of mosquitoes that we decided to go further north, to the island of Newfoundland.

Trailer park amongst rubbish, a frequent sight in Newfoundland

No mosquitoes in Newfoundland begin of June. Spring had not begun yet. In the higher plains there still was plenty of snow. We ended up in a lovely B&B in Rocky Harbour on the east coast of the Island. The owners had had 10 children. After they had grown up and left, there was plenty of space for visitors. It was the first building I saw with triple glass window panes. The owners treated us like one of their children back home. There was a fantastic breakfast with home baked bred, self made jam and eggs from their own chicken. These friendly people had had nine month of winter. The tourist season of three month is short and we were about the first guest to arrive in that year. And after each day trip, Annie, the owner’s first question was: did you see any moose?

Moose along the road

Moose are widespread all over Canada but nowhere as easily spotted as is Newfoundland, which in 1997 had about 40.000. They love to graze along the road, which is an easy route of travel also for a moose. Unfortunately this leads to numerous moose-car collisions, which with an animal of 400 kg frequently is fatal for both. Even we saw dead moose at the roadside.

Tourism was the big hope of Newfoundland. Due to overfishing, the only good catch left were lobster. Lobster cages were everywhere in the little ports. Seal hunting and whaling was banned. From the dilapidated state of many of the villages and buildings you could guess that this was not a rich island.

The ascent to Gros Morne

Rocky harbour is at the base of Gros Morne, Newfoundland’s highest peak. It is not only the center of a vast national park, but because of it’s unique geological features, also a UNESCO world heritage site. Because of the snow in the high tundra the rugged trail up there was still closed. We did go anyway. Even so it looked like a rocky desert, the flat top of the mountain was full of life. Snow hares, quails and caribou had still their winter white coats or where just about changing to a brown summer dress. On the northern face, sheer cliffs drop down into ten mile pond, on of three lakes, which more resemble a norwegian fjord and have water so clean that no fish can survive in there.

Pack ice in the street of Labrador

A coastal road leads to the end of the peninsula 400 km north of Rocky harbour. On the other side of the strait is the coast of Labrador. This is the area, where the first Europeans, the Vikings, settled in the new world. The more north we come, the more ice is floating in the strait. Icebergs are blocking the entrances to cute little harbours. The northern part of the Labrador strait is still completely covered in pack ice.

Iceberg in the harbour of St. Anthony's

The little port of St. Anthony’s is at the northern tip of Newfoundland. The entrance to the port, where a ferry to Labrador should leave, is blocked by an iceberg. Next to the lighthouse is a cosy little restaurant. We eat lobster while outside the icebergs slowly drift south. It is a scene of great quietness and beauty. We think about the Titanic. However, her route was much further south, so in that time the drift of the icebergs went as far south as Halifax.

Port in Nova Scotia

Lighthouse in Nova Scotia

Port in Newfoundland

View from Gros Morne down on Rocky harbour and Bonne Bay

Bonne Bay, East arm

Wildlife on the top of Gros Morne

A hare on the top of Gros Morne

Caribou on the float top of Gros Morne

Looking down on a water fall in the Gros Morne area

Abandoned school buses on the shore of the strait of Labrador

Little icebergs in the harbours along the west coast of Newfoundland

The road to the lighthouse in St. Anthony's

The lighthouse in St. Anthony's

Icebergs drifting own along the Newfoundland coast

Corona stories are stories about Corona, the virus?

Maybe. But Corona stories can also be stories told during evenings of lock down (why lock down, is it not more lock up?). Although traveling is not entirely impossible, in my view it is at least not advisable and it gives a bad example. People sit at home more often. But see that as a chance. Finally there should be time to deal with the thousands of photos in archives, the collected memories and the books read a long time ago. Finally there is time to find the story behind those secret places in your neighborhood which were long overlooked because people went exploring thousands of miles away without understanding or willing to understand what was going on there or back at home. I want to travel in the content of my cupboards, the collection of my memories, bring the little overlooked places around me into line with history. Combine photos, stories, literature and history.