Roughin’ it

The discomforts of day-to-day life are not exactly unique to the countryside, just more numerous than in the city. Most of the inconveniences I encountered in Hue last week are also present in Saigon, though fewer and further between in the latter. The night I arrived in Hue, there was a blackout in the municipal districts that I passed through as well as in the rural area where my uncle lives. My cousin, who had come to pick me up from the airport, joked during the drive home, “It’s because they knew you were coming.” But as it turned out blackouts make daily, planned visits as part of the city’s efforts to conserve electricity. Since Hue is not as busy as the bigger cities, the authorities here can afford to intentionally cut off the energy supply for a few hours a day.

Luckily I had Eugene O’Neill to keep me occupied. My only real problem with the blackouts was that they deprived me of a fan during the hottest hours of the day; I was starting to understand why people here take so many naps in the daytime. I know I shouldn’t have been so weak, but it might have been more bearable if not for the added physical aggravation from, as my cousin liked to call it, Mr. Mosquito. He left at least a dozen “gifts” on my left arm alone, and countless more all along my head, shoulders, knees, and, yes, toes.

I did use some bug repellant but not much because it’s a bitch to wash off, especially when there’s no real shower. The wash room consisted of a pail and a spout not unlike the one in my backyard in Sacramento. I was also scared to enter the room at night because its roofless structure practically invited in Mr. Mosquito.

The outhouse had a roof, though no seat. The toilet looked almost normal, except its white bowl was set in the ground so that you must crouch over it rather than sit down (I’ve learned this is called a squat toilet). To flush required pouring water from a bucket down the drain until the toilet was clean again.

When we were thirsty, we boiled water, and to boil water, we needed firewood. I didn’t drink much unless there was ice, and for that we’d send one of the boys to the small store down the road. It was understandable that there was no ice in the house, since refrigerators are something of a luxury. In fact the house didn’t have much furniture at all, mainly bureaus and beds with planks but no mattresses. I was only surprised when I found that my relatives had a TV. Besides being cheaper than refrigerators, TVs are apparently considered more important (as a link to the rest of the world?), which is why you’re more likely to find a TV in a Vietnamese home than a refrigerator. Maybe things aren’t so rough.