Vietnam Museum of Ethnology

It’s tricky finding activities that we can all do safely together, especially when we are cautiously scoping out our surrounds and trying to navigate in completely unfamiliar territory.
Über (taxi app) was our new-found friend today, as we were able to get from A to B without fuss and cafuffle. We simply entered our location for pick up, entered our desired destination, got a confirmed price estimate and description of car and driver that would turn up. The four of us emphatically hopped into the car on arrival without having as much as attempt to try to say “chúng ta muôn di dên båo tàng dân tõc hõc các”!

This efficiency did negate the whole process of looking lost in surrounds, poring over a map in the middle of street, flitting away superfluous hawking taxi and tuk-tuk drivers, bartering, mutual misunderstandings, pointing, clarifying and negotiating; all of which hold an element of fun and intrigue, and of course a great sense of achievement if/when you reach your intended destination!
Über made things less stressful, but relegated the miscommunication process in a foreign language to a thing of the distant pre-smartphone day and age.

With this smug sense of post-smartness, we arrived at the Vietnam Museum of Ethnology, and stepped into a realm where pre and post anything doesn’t really matter, only the voice that speaks loudly from each exhibit that informs you of the cultural now that is shaped by aesthetics, ingenuity, creativity, pride, necessity and functionality.

We particularly liked the replica houses, built by different ethnic groups in the surrounds of the museum itself. Ilona and Tadhg rambled through, climbed ladders and explored the houses and ceremonial chambers.









I felt somewhat culturally impoverished at my own state of cultural blending and mish-mash of influences that have come to shape who I am, yet turned me into a somewhat culturally displaced person. Daniel said that was “rubbish!”, that we have our own unique culture. He is probably right as it is difficult to identify one’s own cultural institutions or informal rules, as by definition they are implicit and routine, so much so that we don’t question what we do, or question our type of behaviour. We just do what we know, act how we have been taught to within our family, communities and society.

This has been a point I have been mulling over and reflecting on, because the kid’s routines and norms have been thrown upside down on these travels. I’m appreciating more and more their school, which gives them a daily purpose, a chance to interact and develop with their peers, (in New Zealand) a vast green area to run, exercise and play in and other figures in benevolent authority who help shape them as little people, giving them responsibility and pride. It’s tricky trying to emulate all of that while travelling, and the biggest challenge we are facing at the moment.

There is a bike under all the fish baskets in the picture behind Tadhg. Up until 1998, a trader rode this bike to market, with approximately 100 baskets on the back of his bike (and some on his handlebars, presumably to act as a ballast!).