Montagnard Village

Last night we had our home hosted dinner. Extended family of 30 people lived in this house, built by their grandfather. We ate a great dinner, great banana wine (homemade) and learned about their wacky religion that combines Buddhism, Crhistianity, Hinduism and a whole bunch of other saints. They have a huge altar in their house to worship their ancestors.

This morning we went to a mountain village, Montagnard Village, to observe the life there. A long and car sickness route up, over and around the mountains. Along the way we stopped at a flower farm. Gerber daisys everywhere. Following that we stopped at a silk farm. The silk worms are many and at this factory, they spin the silk into thread, then weave it into patterned fabric and then dye it. They do the whole process here and even had some small items for sale. I bought a silk skirt and scarf.

On to the village of Montagnard. It apparently is a remote mountain village that mostly grows coffee beans, is Catholic and a minority group that was pushed further from Dalat into the mountains because they are from the Cambodian/Laotian roots. They also speak their own language/dialect, not Veitnamese, and speak a little French. We were brought down to the village by a tractor, which once we got closer to the village, children came running from every house to climb on the back of the wagon and ride with us. It was wonderful. The children were absolutely filthy, because the road is a very red dirt and it is very poor here, but they were all smiles and waves. Each one more beautiful than the next. We got to visit a family's home (straw hut with a baby pig penned in the corner) and their kitchen (open fire in the middle of the floor, one pot). there is no running water or bathrooms. All water is taken from a well shared by six families.

We also walked down to the village grocery store (straw hut with eggs and soda) and the local school which the travel company foundation renovated (hence our connection with this little village of 900 people). Then to meet with the village chief. I passed another old man (80 years old) who let us see his house (one straw hut room with a bed and open fire in the middle of the floor). I gave him some sharks teeth I found on our beaches in Wilmington (also gave to the chief) and he was impressed and delighted (as was the chief). He asked if he should eat them, so I fear they will be ground up and mixed into something for "power" or "manliness" or something like that. Glad I brought them from home. Just wish I had brought a bunch of paper Krispy Kreme hats for all the kids. Would have been hilarious!

After the village visit we stopped at a Cricket farm. They also sold scorpions. I didn't eat the scorpion, but I did have the fried crickets which I dipped in hot sauce. Delicious. Gets a little bit stuck in your teeth, but pretty good. So far thats the wackiest food we have had. Sorry to disappoint you Paul!