Watery rhythms: the Saigon River, the lunar calendar, floods, flowers and Tet

While not as frequently romanticized as Vietnam's Mekong River or the Red River maybe, the old Saigon River forms a pretty ribbon through the city. And because its current is relatively brisk, its smell is not as heavy and rotten as the smaller city canals.

I took a bicycle ride down a crumbling, narrow and peaceful lane alongside the Saigon River today (my last day in Vietnam). The lane's in District 2, or Quan 2 on the map. (You'll have to click on the map and then zoom in for a better picture. I can't find a better map unfortunately.)

Waiting quietly on the river were both oceanic vessels and a few smaller boats carrying coconuts, bonsai trees and other agricultural goods for sale at the millions of street markets in Saigon. I biked this lane yesterday, too, and as far as I could tell, none the boats had moved at all during that time.

Funny how sea trade is so mysterious from an outsider's perspective. It's impossible to figure out what's going on behind the hulls and inside the steel containers being loaded on and off the ships. But I imagine the worst -- as I bet Maine State Senator Susan Collins, who's head of the Senate Committee of Homeland Security, does as well: the trafficking of humans beings, drugs, weapons and crude radioactive material for bombs, among all the other black market goods sneaking in under the tax radar.

The most active object on the river was this boat above moving at Mach 2, skimming the top of the water in its rush. I've never seen anything like it, but I presume it's not an uncommon kind of speedboat. I just wonder who was riding in the thing. Maybe a politician? Perhaps a Vietnamese smuggling tycoon?

The lane next to the river was quiet and shady, with an occasional bicycle or motor scooter passing me. People were drinking cà phê and green tea by the (deliciously non-smelly) river, under the trees lining the road, sitting on a sidewalk turning into mud due to the stress of being regularly flooded.

This house, across the lane from the Saigon River, still hasn't dried out from the recent full moon and high tide.

Vietnamese calendars list both lunar and solar dates because both are still important and practical here. (Lena's dad, for instance, didn't know his solar calendar birthday until he was quite old and looked it up on the Internet.) The traditional lunar calendar is vital in Vietnam for a couple of reasons. First, families need to know the phases of the moon so they don't miss the date they must lay out food and burn incense for the ancestors (the 15th and 30th of the lunar month).

Also, for those living in flood-prone areas -- and as far as I can tell, most of Saigon is in chronic peril of flooding -- it is somewhat reassuring to be able to predict when their living room will become a rice paddy, even if they can't do anything about it. Lena's dad says that the river rises with the tides two or three days after the full moon, the seas being dragged along by the fading, falling moon.

The most recent full moon was the 11th, and when I opened our gate two mornings ago I saw that the alley across from us had turned into a long rectangular pool. In Lena's house (which belongs to her parents and is about 500 meters from a river), the floor had to be raised three feet to protect it from the river water, which simply rises up from the sewer through the earth and into people's homes. Lena's parents got so frustrated they eventually moved out.

This poor home below is across the lane from the Saigon River, and next to a stinky canal -- double trouble.


Tet is coming up at the end of the month, Jan. 26, the first day of the new lunar year. (This is Lena's calendar below. If you click on it, you can more easily read the lunar and solar dates.)

People are already starting to get ready by buying traditional sweets and food to serve guests (manic socializing goes on during Tet). Even more lanterns are being strung up on the streets and flower sellers are bracing for their busiest time of the year. Lena says many wild flowers blossom after Tet. A few are already out, like these yellow trumpets.

Tet doesn't just bring in the new year, it also marks the start of Vietnam's so-called spring. It's quite funny to me that spring is heralded here with such fanfare, despite the winter being so mild and warm, and fresh fruits and vegetables being so plentiful all year round! (But spring is exciting everywhere I guess. Perhaps it's the concept of renewal and temporal change that's most interesting.) Also, although I am hardened by the extreme seasons in Maine, here the spring does mean less rain, clearer skies, more sun and hotter temperatures.

Anyway, goodbye wonderful, fascinating, difficult and eternally strange Vietnam!