Vietnam’s Central Highlands

Dalat “City of Eternal Spring”

Arriving by air to Dalat one quickly realizes that the taxi ride into town costs almost as much as the flight from Danang. Either the gov’ment purposely built the facility in the middle or nowhere to increase a taxi driver’s income, or it was the only flat place large enough to accommodate airplanes.

With all the hype about Dalat it’s pretty much mindless bells and whistles. but not much soul. Herd tourism is alive here witnesses by the large, long table restaurants that usually sit empty, apart from bus tours. The place is on its way to becoming another tourist-ravaged Thailand only most of the tourists are Vietnamese. The good news is: The deep fried pig trotters are pretty good.

There are reprieves such as the delicious restaurants up the stairs from the market which offers good food, a little English and cold beer to wash the noodles down. The town is adjacent to a pretty lake with bright, cartoon-adorned, children’s boats on the water and strollers going in slow, pleasant circles on a warm, sunny day. Behind it all are hills full of pines.

Downtown Dalat

But tourism is on the rise – They offer a Hospitality Course at local university but the graduates really get it. They are still floored that a westerner would even try to speak Vietnamese but rather than offering appreciation to this feat they are severely  uncomfortable. Robot hospitality strictly follows the guidebook with little to no human touch sprinkled on top.

A little teasing gets them to spit out a few words and in one case unleashed a torrent of perfect English from a young girl from Bao Loc.

Dalat enjoys a subtropical highland climate by virtue of its 4900-foot elevation. It is the bread basket of the country producing milk, peppers, cabbage, fruits and an array of other vegetables consumed all over Vietnam.

Built by the French in the late 19th Century the city boasts hypnotizing villas and rambling, tree-lined boulevards. Catholic priests and nuns are not common sights but the religion remains for the fervent majority, especially the hill people, who some say embraced Catholicism as cultural buffer against the infringing lowland Vietnamese. The Party does not appreciate this allegiance but has chosen to leave well enough alone for the time being, preferring to concentrate on tourist dollars.

Fun on the bus

The scenery from the bus between Dalat and Buon Ma Thuot closely resembles the lower Andean valleys of Colombia with a little of the Rockies thrown in. Tuan Anh is the best and only company for the 5-hour trip. Bus stations are so different from Latin America. They are free of thieves. However the tight reclining seats, like little metal cages are reminiscent of incarceration of some kind.

The bus attendants, like temple dogs protecting a chaotic agenda, hustle me onto a bus and point to a seat with a little more legroom and smile. The civilized tradition of taking one’s shoes off to get on bus keeps things clean. The attendant even puts them in plastic bag for you to be recovered at journey’s end.

Soon we were rolling, in the land of short legs and expanded bladders

Listening to Charlie Parker on Hwy 14 in the Central Highlands may not be a common behavior but is a very good thing according to a few people that happily listened on my earphones.

Buon Ma Thuot – Coffee City

Beautiful gardens in Buon Ma Thuot

Getting off the bus at Buon Ma Thuot one is met by a gang moto drivers desperate for a fare. After calming them down I chose one who, despite reassurances, didn’t know the location of my hotel. I asked him if he was from New Jersey and he smiled a monolingual smile, consulting his Google map.

A large tour group had descended on the otherwise tranquil grounds of Resort Coffee Tour, my digs for the next few days. The “Russians, according to the hotel staff, who spoke awfully good French, got off the bus, ate as a group with silly lectures about Buon Ma Thuot from a bullhorn ringleader of unidentified origin. Fortunately they departed by 7 am on the sterilized bus to Dalat or Kontum. There they would reenact the previous night’s performance, an unrehearsed circus of ridiculous proportions. The Vietnamese watched them leave this morning then promptly slaughtered a small pig outside the kitchen door. There was no fanfare. It was no ritual. The kitchen was simply out of pork.

Robust coffee, not tourism drives the economy here. It is the best of a world-renown crop coming into its own. A person can buy cups ($1) and bags $4 of the prime stuff that cost double in Danang and triple in the US, if you can find it at all. Surprise! There are tubs in many of the highland hotels. All clean, comfortable lodging average price $21 per night. There are places for as little as $6 but they look a little rough. A few dollars more brings a quality stay, with a good breakfast and gorgeous grounds and gardens. These staff kids are at your service although the language barrier is clearly evident more so than in Hoi An or Danang.

I Love Kontum Coffee garden

Despite the jargonus-interruptus the people are sincere and lovely. There are tons of babies, that only makes sense since the average age here is mighty low. I spend most of the afternoon in deep, meaningful  conversation with infants and toddlers who are enthralled with my beard. The exact content of the conversation may be a bit blurred but we are in accord that it is a beautiful highland day and that lunch will be served any minute now.

Coffee Festival in March

Later I meet a 94-year-old spry gentleman who wanted to talk. We spend some time over a beer a he goes on while I smile and nod my head at what I believe to be an appropriate time. Despite the language difference we get on well. His son, who speaks perfect English, comes to retrieve him. and we order three more 333 beers and younger man acts as official translator. Beers on the sidewalk is just fine.

Up the road Pizza King Mark’s offer delicious Italian food while Sinonome Japanese offers sushi and other delights. Then there is traditional Vietnamese food from every little cafe along the route to downtown. The pork rib noodle soup at Resort Coffee Tour is excellent. Tip: Always look for a beer cooler and cold beer (bira lan) in the establishment or you may be graced with a warm one with ice made from local water that you probably shouldn’t be drinking.

Hotter than Dalat, Buon Ma Thuot is still the nicest landing zone in the Central Highlands.

Kontum, Forgotten in Time

A sleepy, too scared to listen to my bad Vietnamese little city, is not far from the Laos and Cambodia border. In my temporary home, Hoi An, the locals are used to Westerners butchering their language but up here not so.

Long House near Kon Tum

People do, however, stop me on the street here, fully intending to speak a little English but then they get shy and remain silent. When encouraged they spurt out a few words and seem delighted when I understand them.

I ask one lady who speaks some English “Why is General Giap (military mastermind of three wars) not on any bills, only Ho?” They laugh and tell me they don’t care much for politics and don’t like the government much. “They put up propaganda signs,” points one woman, “but don’t do much to prevent flooding, erosion and the poorly planned, systematic logging of trees on the bare mountains above.”

My first time guide, Ngon, has good English but shy to use it much. We discussed his desire to be a real guide and what the priorities of the visitors might be. I don’t know how much of it he retained but he’s sharp. My forged diploma from Harvard Business School did not impress him much.

“You have to arrange the transportation,” I said. “You have to take your clients to the good restaurants. You must be prompt. You must know the territory if you want to be a guide,” I said, paying him for his novice excursion into the world of foreigners and expendable incomes.

The average Vietnamese family around here lives on about 3,000,000 dong per month, which is roughly $130. He can make twice that if he works at it.

Looking photos of native ceremonies Cusco, Peru, Ngon was shocked to see the similarities of patterns and colors of fabrics and textiles. “The pattern in these weavings from Cusco is uncommonly familiar and looks like my people’s work.” The  patterns of the Ba Na are very close to people who speak Quechua far across the globe.

Now that he trusts me he’s chatting along, exhibiting a knowledge of my language which he has studied for only two months. The Vietnamese are smart. He talks non-stop on the bus from Kon Tum to Dak To, up farther into the mountains.

Ba Na children in Kon Ktu Village

The next day he takes me to his birthplace, Kon Ktu, a Ba Na Village on the Dao Bla River, about 6 km from Kontum. It looked just like everyplace else in the Highlands of Vietnam except for the presence of long houses. The dry countryside reminded me of Colorado. The region awaited the rains of March and April when it all turned many shades of green. I met a weaver and bought a beautiful headscarf for about $17 while the shops in town sold a comparable version for $35.

I had planned to go under the scissor in Kontum. However, considering the ineptness I saw around me I was less than enthused about a possible follicle butchering to go along with confused taxi rides, marginal food and a lost crown from a spring roll adventure. Eva’s Restaurant was terrible but got great reviews from the Trip Advisor set. Incompetent, rude, and smug. Just bad. I shook my head in sad departure, still hungry although I had waited over an hour for food.

Dining Tip (anywhere but Eva’s) : If you are hungry keep the chatter short with the pretty waitress since she is most likely the pretty cook too. May we suggest the banana pancakes or the pork rib soup?