So, it's after midnight and you hear an authoritative woman's voice repeating something over a loudspeaker. Looking out of your posh 4 star hotel you see it's coming from a rigged speaker on a bicycle. Now your old fears come creeping in: political propoganda? Curfew? A one-person protest? In any case, your trip in Vietnam will never be the same.
Actually, it's someone selling these things: rice jello filled with minced pork and a hard-boiled quail egg wrapped in a banana leaf. It's some sort of midnight snack, though we sometimes have them for breakfast. It's just one of those odd Vietnamese things. Sure, we have a curfew--about an hour after 3am the motorcycle roar dies down a little.
I just can't resist cute cookies. It always boggles me that a country with a population only twice that of NYC has its own language, its own food packaging, Coke cans, Family Feud and Who Wants To Be a Millionaire (what does that even mean? a million dong? who isn't?).
Actually, it's someone selling these things: rice jello filled with minced pork and a hard-boiled quail egg wrapped in a banana leaf. It's some sort of midnight snack, though we sometimes have them for breakfast. It's just one of those odd Vietnamese things. Sure, we have a curfew--about an hour after 3am the motorcycle roar dies down a little.
I just can't resist cute cookies. It always boggles me that a country with a population only twice that of NYC has its own language, its own food packaging, Coke cans, Family Feud and Who Wants To Be a Millionaire (what does that even mean? a million dong? who isn't?).
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