A balancing act

Recently my friend from Hoa Binh Town, 73 kilometres southwest of Hanoi, invited me to visit. I had been many times and was surprised to discover that my host had never been across the giant reservoir built by Hoa Binh hydropower plant.

“But have you ever tried Long ca la du du (Fish entrails with papaya leave)?” asks my friend, whose name Bang means ‘balance’ in English, trying to get back at me.

I admit I haven’t as Bang rolls up his sleeves to prepare the food after a long drive down Highway 6 on a dull Friday afternoon.

As I watch the preparation I notice the ingredients are not just guts and papaya leaves. There is tomato, coriander, fresh vegetables and a bottle of liquor made by the Muong ethnic group.

Bang’s mother tells me to roll the vegetables together and dip them into the fish entrails soup. It is a bitter taste that dances on my tongue. We also eat boiled sweet bamboo shoots and roasted meat from a pig raised by the Muong people.

During the French colonial times, Hoa Binh was known as tinh Muong, the Muong province and today, Muong people account for 65 per cent of Hoa Binh’s population.

The next morning, we head for the 100-square kilometre reservoir, which has been operating since 1994 and took 23 years to construct. We arrive at a jetty near the plant where we hope to hire a boat.
“VND300,000 for a canoe trip,” a shop owner tells us. While Bang haggles with the owner I notice a group of tourists also negotiating a canoe trip nearby.

I hear it will be VND20,000 per person for a canoe trip to Ba Chua Thac Bo Temple and back, 7km from the port. Bang and I try to join them, but the canoe owner says they will set off only when there are 40 customers. The tourists decide not to wait and drive off in a bus.

Mist continues to cover the lake during the morning. As Bang goes to get his motorbike I take a few pictures of baked fish which are on sale for only VND3,000- VND5,000.

We drive on to a jetty in Thung Nai, a locality of Cao Phong District of Hoa Binh. The non-sealed road that runs past Muong hamlets is extremely slippery. We reach the port safely, but agonizingly, just as a tourist boat sails away.

However, a small fishing boat is about to leave. A woman and her husband agree to take us to the Ba Chua Thac Bo Temple, only 4 km away from the jetty.

“You will see a Halong Bay,” Bang jokes with me when we manage to balance ourselves on the seats in the boat.

The noise from the boat’s engine is deafening. I break two Vinataba cigarettes and shove the filters in my ears. We land at the temple at noon when mist has cleared a bit from the lake. Ba Chua Thac Bo temple is placed by a waterfall, Thac Bo.

A Muong legend goes that once upon a time, in the Muong Bi region there was a man named Tung. He and his wife had boundless health. One day, they built a dyke to bring water to their field.

Tung heard someone say his mother had passed away. Tung immediately stopped work and told his wife the news. The woman tried to hurry with her husband, but unable to balance with stones she needed for the dyke she dropped them along the way and so the stones turned the Da River, which runs from Son La to Hoa Binh province, into a waterfall.

In 1430, King Le Loi led his troops to fight rebels in Lai Chau province. On the way, when his army faced serious food shortages, a Muong girl named Dinh Thi Van asked her parents to help the King. She had managed to mobilise a lot of support from the locals for the King.

However, one day her boat full of food could not survive a dangerous river section between Moc Chau and Son La. The bodies of her and one of her maids were swept as far as Thac Bo. One year later, King Le Loi returned victoriously.

But not forgetting the woman’s generosity, at Thac Bo he carved her feats on a stone cliff so the following generations would appreciate her. The local residents built a temple in her honour and named it the Temple of Thac Bo Goddess.

Inside there are many small boat models placed on the temple’s altars as an offering to the girl. Though it is Chinese-made toys that fill the souvenir shops by the temple.

Bang and I decide to have lunch with the boat owner. Bang continues speaking highly of the local food in Hoa Binh, including black ant-eggs, baked fish dipped in chili and salt and also dam bim.

This last dish, Bang explains, is the leftovers of lots of different kinds of food, which have been pickled in a jar for at least 15 days.

This time I decline. But I’m made promise that I will try it the next time I visit. For now I just want to make sure my digestion retains some kind of ‘equilibrium’ for the long drive home.