In three distinct periods of my life, rain has brought unexpected joy. In primary school, it meant a lunch break of indoor play with Lego; during my stint at the carboot sale, it signaled a day off. And now, seated in a cozy café with Yumi and her Auntie “Green” Xanh, the heavens open above us, prompting cheers as rain pelts the roof signaling the end of a long harsh dry season.
Indeed, over the recent long bank holiday—Vietnam’s reunification day followed by Labour Day—Yumi and I found ourselves enjoying morning coffee when we heard a loud tokay gecko. Yumi shared with me that the Jrai people consider it a harbinger of imminent rain.
Rain plays a pivotal role in local cultures here. The Jrai in Ayun Pa hold a Fire King Festival, featuring a rain dance, while the Xodang people celebrate a “Water Drip” festival, highlighting the significance of water in their lives.
Here in Pleiku, where the norm is a comfortable coolness, the delayed onset of rain has cast a shadow (or not!) over our usually verdant plateau. As someone who typically revels in the warmth of the sun, even I had found myself longing for respite from the stifling heat that hangs heavy in the air, rendering it stagnant and oppressive. Returning from the equally sweltering Mekong Delta, I couldn’t help but notice the difference in discomfort – here, it felt as if I was living in a fan oven; turning on the fan at night only seemed to stir the hot air around, offering no respite from the stifling heat. Indeed, it’s not just Pleiku feeling the heat; across Vietnam, The specter of one of the hottest years on record looms large, its oppressive weight bearing down on the nation’s peoples and wildlife.
So, the arrival of the first shower signaling the start of the rainy season here in Pleiku is a tremendous relief. Last night, I enjoyed a restful slumber under the water-cooled roof, a very welcome relief!
Kon Tum with Henry
Cousin Henry made a brief stop in Pleiku on his adventure heading north. He and Grace had pre-booked and prepaid for a homestay online, only to discover upon arrival that the owners had double-booked! Fortunately, the hotel arranged alternative accommodations for them, and it all worked out in the end. When in Vietnam, I personally opt for spontaneity, finding a hotel upon arrival, as online reservations aren’t taken as seriously as in other countries.
Our next stop was my house, where Henry immediately bonded with my cat, snapping plenty of photos in the process. Then, we ventured to Yumi’s parents’ place, where her dad had prepared a massive 3kg rooster for us to feast on. Despite our best efforts, we couldn’t finish it all. We also indulged in his homemade wines, including one jar with a honeycomb inside and another made with bananas, both of which were very well received by our guests. After that we headed out to my Australian friend Brad’s new bar.
The following day, we journeyed to Kontum, where we joined some of Yumi’s cousins for a riverside picnic featuring traditional Bahnar cuisine. While the kids and I enjoyed a swim, Henry amused himself by skimming stones across the water.
After bidding farewell to Kontum, we parted ways with Henry and Grace, knowing this may be the last time we see them on this trip. I wish them a journey filled with unforgettable moments and enduring memories in Vietnam and beyond. I’ll be eagerly following their adventures on Instagram, holding onto the memories we’ve shared. Safe travels!
Eastward Ho! 