Hoi An is known for two things: custom tailored clothing and cooking classes (an excellent combination if you ask me). Chris was concerned that I’d over indulge in the clothing, so to “distract” me, he searched around for a cooking classes that we’d both enjoy. After checking out a few of the hundreds offered, we committed to a class that seemed to offer the most variety, flexibility, and friendly service (after all, that’s what all Americans look for isn’t it?).

We started the day meeting the chef over coffee. We looked over the menu and talked about what dishes would be best to prepare. After some debate, we decided on the following:

• Banana flower salad
• Fresh spring rolls
• Banh xeo (Vietnamese pancakes)
• Grilled fish in banana leaf

Then the chef surprised us each with traditional Vietnamese hats to wear to the market. The first phase of the class was visiting the local market to identify and purchase the ingredients we needed. Our first stop, the veggie section, was filled with women donning their silk pajamas and traditional hats crammed behind their baskets overflowing with red chilies, fresh morning glory, garlic, aubergine, carrots, etc. There were tomatoes stacked neatly in piles, purple onions flowering the walkways, and bright green bean sprouts scattered between several different tables. The chef pointed out the vegetables specific to Vietnam and bought the ones we would be using in our food later that morning.

The fruit section was filled with the standards: apples, mangos, bananas, oranges and more, but one local fruit, the dragonfruit, always caught my eye (if only it taste as good as it looked).

Next, we snaked our way through the small aisles fighting the bustling local crowd to the fish. It was right along the river, but being out in the open didn’t help whisk away the hot, muggy, fishy smell. There were large fish and small fish, live fish and dead fish, there were fish that were being filleted and even fish being ground into fish cakes. We picked our cuttle fish quickly and kept moving (trying to dodge the fish guts on the ground with our sandals).

Finally to the meat market, where in addition to the standard cuts of raw meat (not refrigerated of course), we found live chickens in their cages, full size pigs waiting to be slaughtered, and numerous other animal parts including hooves, ears, intestines and brains. It had less of a smell than the fish market, but seeing the pigs squealing as they were being pulled from their pen by their hind legs didn’t make me feel any better. Finally, we stopped to pick up a few lovely smelling spices on our way out of the market.

We headed back to the restaurant where we were given our chef jackets and hats. We worked our way through the process of making each dish. First chopping and slicing the ingredients, then mixing the sauces, filleted the meat and finally preparing the dishes. To top it off, we were even taught a few tips on food presentation. By noon, we had successfully prepared 4 beautiful dishes each! And of course we saved the best part for last… sitting down and enjoy our freshly prepared Vietnamese meal!

If you’re interested in any of the recipes, feel free to email us at contact[at]withoutaguide[dot]com and we’d be more than happy to send them to you!

Our small 2-wheel drive Yaris was driving down the back country Namibian dirt road when we came across a camping sign. All four of us (the two Swedes we were traveling with and us) were exhausted and looking for a place to stay anyway, so we cruised up the long residential, narrow, dusty road when we came upon a house nestled amongst several trees. There was a young Namibian in his mid 20’s who we first spoke with. He stood about 5′10″, had extremely pronounced cheek bones, and through his tattered clothing I could see his small set frame. We let him know we were looking for a place to rest and were wondering the price. He didn’t speak much English, but we were able to agree on the price for camping on their land. Upon our agreement, he set off on a quick jog toward a large area of bushes and trees 800m away. We couldn’t understand where he was going until 15 minutes later, when he back back with two women. It was then that I realized these people didn’t live in the house that we pulled up to. Their house must be hidden beyond the bushes.

After speaking with the woman who spoke English best, we realized that they were caretakers of the land. They watched over the main house while the owner, an older German woman, was away. Chris and I wanted to understand their lifestyle better so we invited them for dinner. The head woman rejected since they had three children in addition to four adults, but we insisted they join us and finally they agreed. We would all meet in the owner’s lodge for dinner at 6:30pm.

We didn’t have much time to settle in, set up camp, and begin cooking before 6:30pm rolled around. The Namibian’s began to arrive around the lodge table. They were quiet but seemed eager to have the company. The women brought juice for the table while the main man of the household, Sydney, helped us light candles for the table (we had no electricity). We all decided to make pasta with meatballs because it was one of the heartiest meals we had in our food supply and we imagined they would enjoy eating meat (even if it was from a can). Upon sitting down, we all awkwardly crammed around this non-geometrically shaped small rock table. Eleven of us remained fairly quiet until after we began eating our food. We had small conversations throughout the first serving of dinner however we could tell that dinner is not a social activity with them. It is a way of life. By their second and third helping of dinner, the family began to open up about themselves and their Namibian traditions.

Sydney and his wife were the main man and woman of the household. They had two small children ages 3 and 1. Sydney’s sister Bianca and his cousin George also lived with them in their apparently tiny house with Bianca’s small 1 year old. We learned so many fascinating things about their lifestyle:

• They all survive off of Sydney’s income which he makes monthly from the German owner. Therefore, meat is rare in their diet and most of their meals consists of a traditional porridge.
• When speaking with each other, they used their native language, which is a Khoisan dialect of the African Bantu language. It involves using different clicks of the mouth to communicate. It is truly fascinating to hear!
• They do not own a vehicle of any kind therefore, when they make runs to the grocery store or post office, they plan it well in advance. The closest small town providing a post office and a market is 80km away so they only go to the market every 5-6 weeks. Usually, they can ask their neighbors for a ride or if they don’t have one lined up in advance, they can try to hitch a ride the day of. The only problem is that the road they live on in small and sparsely traveled, so often times they may wait all day for a ride into town and back.
• They would like their children to go to school however with the school also being 80km away, it seems impossible to have them attend. Therefore, Sydney may decide to home school them which is common for many families in their area.

Later that evening, the Swedish med students asked about vaccinations and diseases and how they deal with them. Surprisingly, they were uninformed on the mosquito diseases in the area, how they are contracted, and how the body deals with vaccinations. It shocked me! I wondered how they dealt with sickness if they were uncertain of what it was but then they explained their holistic medicine approach. Should they have an upset stomach, headache, aches or pains in the body, they grind up an ostrich egg shell, oryx liver, and aardvark droppings, and consume the powder. They swore that that they’d always feel better the next day.

It dawned on me over dinner that while we lived lifestyles that were worlds apart, but they were still some of the most down to Earth people I have met yet. All of them were grateful, hospitable, and humble for what they had in life. They welcomed us with open arms into their home, their culture, their family and their lifestyles. In return, they soaked up the information we shared with them regarding US lifestyles, medical practices, education, etc. The night turned out to be more than I could have ever asked for.