We’re in Sa Dec, Vietnam, wandering around in a large open-air market. There are hundreds of vendors here, selling whatever it is they’ve grown, caught, or raised. We passed through the produce section and the fresh fish section, where, as far as I could tell, everything that was for sale was still alive. When we left off last time, we were just leaving the fish section, headed for the “meat department.”
The “Meat Department”
The good news is that the items for sale in the meat department were no longer alive. That being said, it’s no place for the feint of heart. At least for feint-of-heart western tourists like us.
As we strolled through the meat section, vendors were cutting up really large animal parts into steaks, chops, ribs, and cuts I didn’t recognize. Even though nothing in the meat department was alive at the moment, my guess is that yesterday, or maybe even this morning, this cow or pig was happily walking around, minding his own business.
There isn’t any part of the animal that isn’t for sale. At home, many of the same cuts are available, but they’re separated, prettied up, and put on display like diamond rings in a jewelry store window.
Here, things are a little more straightforward. “In-your-face” would be another way to put it. Every part of the whole animal, from head to tail, is lying somewhere there in front of you. It makes for a more “up close and personal” experience between you and whichever part you’re going to serve for dinner tonight.
“Ooooh… What are those?”
On a smaller scale, we came to what must have been the “appetizer” section of the meat department. Everything here was more or less bite-sized. One vendor here had a round tray full of neatly stacked little morsels. They were already skewered, ready for the bar-b-que.
“Ooooh… What are those?” someone asked.
“Oh, those are rats,” our astute guide replied. The group responded with a chorus of “eeu’s,” “ick’s,” and “ugh’s,” and “Oh my Lord’s,” so the guide added, “It’s OK. They’re organic rats!” ha ha! Score one for our guide!
We left the market and took a walk around Sa Dec. It had the feel of a small town, but with an extra dose of activity. Everyone seemed to be on the move, mostly on motor-scooters. Those who weren’t on a motor-scooter were doing their shopping, and numerous small shops were there to provide whatever anyone could possibly need.
Cai Be
We left Sa Dec and made our way through the choppy waterways to another small delta town: Cai Be. In Cai Be, we visited a candy-making operation and then a grand old house that had been restored.
Cai Be appears to be a real “river town.” There are boats going back and forth constantly. Most of them look like they’re hauling bulk materials. They’re all clearly working boats. No pleasure boats here. Both sides of the riverbank are lined with businesses that face the river.
We reached a dock, disembarked, and took a short walk to the “candy factory.” When we arrived, a family welcomed us warmly and invited us in to see candy being made. This was a mom-and-pop operation all the way. The whole process took place in what was the equivalent of a covered patio. The equipment used consisted of a fire pit, a giant wok-like pan, and various wooden tools, jigs, and frames. The candy makers were two young guys, probably two of mom and pop’s sons.
Makin’ Candy
The two guys used the wok to pop a big batch of corn kernels over the fire pit. They added some syrupy stuff, mixed everything together, and poured the hot goo into a wooden frame. After a few more process steps, they shaped the drying goo and started cutting it into little shoebox-shaped morsels and left it to cool.
After the morsels were wrapped, they were immediately recognizable. We’d been seeing these little candies for sale everywhere. I would have assumed that they were manufactured in some giant factory somewhere. But no – they came out of someone’s garage-sized shop.
The whole operation reminded me of someone making moonshine using an old still set up in their barn or garage. (Not that I would know anything about that). In fact, in addition to freshly-made candy to sample and purchase, they offered us a taste of some very nasty-looking home-brew alcohol.
The alcohol itself didn’t look so bad. It was the big, ugly snake inside the bottle that was nasty-looking. They had all shapes and sizes of bottles with all shapes and sizes of snakes inside. They called it snake whisky.
We were advised that the more poisonous the snake in the bottle, the more potent the juice. Of course, the good stuff would cost you. But a couple of shots was supposed to work wonders for your mojo, or whatever else you had that needed a boost. I decided I was OK with everything the way it was working now. Maybe next time, though.
To be continued…
