Eating in Vietnam

So I have a theory, which obviously need not be true, but could possibly have some grain of truth in it. Let's start by introducing the problem: the Vietnamese are, let's say, unhygienic, when it comes to food. And that's an understatement. I kid you not.


When preparing food, they'd use their bare hands and reuse any food that's fallen on the ground. They don't seem to mind that there are flies everywhere and washing liquid is unheard of. And yet, I've eaten cold rice, noodles and bread but have not fallen ill, not even once.


My theory is that aside from the dishes (e.g. noodles) cooked in boiling water, other dishes are served with a sour sauce. It's this very same sauce in which they preserve their vegetables - I'd say it's vinegar but those of you who know me, know of my renowned tasting (in)abilities. But it's something vinegar-y (read: acidic). And I think all that acid must be doing something to keep the food sterile.


That, and the amount of chili they use. God, even I'd stay off food if it had that much chili in it. Surely though, they must have some antibacterial activity in them? Just a hunch.

***

So we were all having dinner together that night and somewhere in the middle of it, a waitress came to take away a dish I considered not finished. So I stopped eating abruptly, sat up and looked around the table at the others before giving a very loud 'err' at the waitress. She paused in her movements with her hand on the dish and I explained politely that we weren't done with the dish yet.

After she had left, the Frenchies started snickering at me before giving way to a full hearty laughs. Apparently, I'm too polite. 'Very British,' they tell me in their blocked-nose, throaty French accent. Had they done it, they would've stopped eating abruptly too but proceeded to wave their hands wildly in the air while saying, 'No no no no no,' in their blocked-nose, throaty French accent. Go figure.

***


Tonight, I had the best sugarcane juice ever. So I trekked out of town a bit. Came across an unattended sugarcane machine outside a house. It sounded as if the family were gathered in front of the tele with their dinner. I showed my face and someone in the family calls.

Before long, a young girl of about 11-13 appears at the doorway. She operates the machine and starts squeezing out the juice from the stick. When I paid her, she flashed me the sweetest smile ever. And when I thanked her in Vietnamese, she replied, 'Thank you.' So it's a little too sour from too much lime but it was the best sugarcane drink ever.