Pounding the Pavement in Long Xuyen - By Hareishun Shanmuganathan

One of the greatest pleasures of travelling is to really immerse your self in the life of a city. Travelers often gravitate to key attractions on a map, but to me, the real joy is exploring the streets and the life contained within - an "urban safari", if you will.

The luxury of an air-conditioned coach or a car will certainly allow you to cover far more ground, and see many more landmarks. However, it is a bubble that unfortunately insulates you from the sounds, the smells, and most importantly, the human interaction that you are immersed in at the street level.

A far better way is to get out on foot for a walk. Actually, why walk, when you can run? Some of my friends would argue, why run, when you can dance? Sadly, I am not that coordinated, or graceful, and trust me, running attracts you plenty of attention in Long Xuyen. Adding in some moves from "Grease" would probably not go over so well, but I digress.

The sun rises early here in Long Xuyen, and our medical mission starts at 0830 everyday. Some friends and I have been starting off our day with a morning run, which serves the dual purpose of getting the blood pumping to somnolent brains, and getting us more acquainted with the city and its residents.

We are usually well on our way by 0630, but Long Xuyen has been up and active for some time already. The roads are replete with motorbikes, buses, and vans. Shop owners have raised their shutters. "Street meat" is crackling on charcoal stoves, steaming Pho is being ladled into bowls, and mugs of iced coffees (with condensed milk!) sit invitingly on tabletops. All just waiting to be claimed. Our stomachs growl in protest, and we are tempted to break our gait, and stop for a breakfast, but we must press on!

Running for fitness and recreation appears to be a completely foreign concept to Long Xuyen's residents. Heads turn, fingers are pointed, and toothy grins abound as our group strides by. The attention is by no means hostile, but rather a welcoming curiosity of we foreigners, clad in our moisture-wicking fabrics, seemingly rushing by, but with no apparent destination in mind.

Indeed, at the beginning of our week, that was definitely true. Our hotel was our nexus, and our runs largely consisted of tentative explorations of side streets, and navigating by feel to areas that appeared interesting. Midway through the week, our focus changed, and now the Long Xuyen market is our daily destination. Constructed in and around a large concrete and corrugated-iron roofed structure, the Long Xuyen market sits alongside the Hau River, and is your one-stop-shop for whatever you need for the day. Aging boat docks suggest a past where the bulk of Long Xuyen's supplies arrived, courtesy of the Mekong Delta.

The market is a true buffet for the senses, and gives you the best insight into the hearts and minds of the citizens of Long Xuyen. The sweet scent of pineapples and bananas intermingle, and compete with the lush aroma of mint and lemon-grass. Live fish seem to play a bizarre game of Marco-Polo, all straining to escape their trays. Any escapee is quickly noticed by their sharp-eyed proprietor, who with deft hands, scoops up the rogue fish, and returns it to the tray to await its inevitable fate.

Live chickens in large wicker bags sit quietly, seemingly resigned to whatever the day may bring. Proud roosters, trapped by large, dome-shaped wire cages crow repeatedly, reminding us all that dawn has come, or perhaps, protesting their incarceration. Freshly slaughtered pigs have been brought to market and large shanks of meat are expertly butchered upon request. Nothing is wasted as even pig heads are carefully washed and scraped clean of residual hair, in preparation for sale (I'm told a pig head is a central feature in particularly special meals). "Poor Wilbur" - one of our friends remarked - it seems that here in Long Xuyen, Charlotte was not successful.

Here in the market, we western runners remain a curiosity, but are also potential customers. We are quickly embedded in the crowds of shoppers, browsing the ample stock available for sale. Motorcycles beep and slowly weave their way through the crowd, with the rider stopping periodically to purchase some goods - like a strange drive-through. As I walked by one leather-faced rider, he took a drag from his cigarette, gave me a quick nod, and then proceeded to squeeze my bicep. With another nod, and another puff, he puttered forward to another stall. I was vaguely aware that I was still in the "fresh meat" section of the market, so I wasn't sure what to make of it, but chalked it up to curiosity, and perhaps a mild compliment.

By this point in the run, it's hard not to ignore the piles of delicious fruit around us. The pineapples are too tempting to turn down, and we regularly indulge in an incredibly succulent mid-work out snack. Bartering with vendors is no easy task, and requires a smattering of Vietnamese, scribbles on hands, and gesturing to purchase a few bags of fruit. Word to the wise, most fruits appear to be sold by the kilogram, so gesturing with 5 fingers to indicate 5 individual fruit pieces will likely be interpreted as 5 kilograms by the joyful vendor.

Our return route back to the hotel takes us through some traffic islands and riverside parks that would not be out of place in Australia, Western Europe, or California. Parallel bars, overhead bars, a metal elliptical, and a puzzling torso-twisting device create an urban adult fitness-park that attracts a small, but dedicated group of retirees, school children, and adults at leisure. At another park, a group of middle-aged adults appear to have created a hacky sack out of a sturdy bag, and some rice, and are engaged in a back and forth that rivals the best the YOLO generation could muster. The travelling Western Circus continues its show as we engage in pull-ups, dips and core exercises, much to the delight of the Vietnamese around us. The atmosphere is supportive, as during one session, a gentleman (and fellow pull-up enthusiast) eagerly counted out my reps. I was more than happy to return the favour, and the exchanged grins spoke volumes of our mutual admiration for a good morning sweat.

The sidewalks nearest to the hotel are perhaps the most perilous part of the journey. Essentially a slalom course is in place, forcing you to dodge around carts, chairs and broken flagstones. Occasionally, you are forced to step out on the street to get around a barrier, or brave the swarm of motorbikes to cross the street. However, not to worry dear reader - the key is a sedate, predictable pace. Don't jolt like a startled colt, but rather take the approach of a cud-chewing cow. Plod forward at a predictable pace, and the swarm will simply flow around you. Don't mess with the trucks/buses though; you need to stay out of their way!

With our minds alert, and riding an endorphin high, a rooftop breakfast is a wonderful reward for our morning labours. A mouth-watering range of crepes, noodles, dim sum, pastries, and other hearty meals await us. Most of all, I crave a mug of steaming Vietnamese coffee and condensed milk. In the company of good friends and warm plates, not a soul among us feels exhausted, but rather invigorated, and we are all ready for another rewarding day with our Vietnamese hosts at An Giang Hospital.