Down South – Drifting with the Mekong Waters

Early in the morning, I boarded a bus from Saigon, leaving behind the tall buildings and the rush of the city to head south — to the Mekong Delta, the land of water, boats, and warm-hearted people. My mother used to say: "The Mekong folks are gentle, they live off the river, eat fish, and their voices are as sweet as sugarcane.” The bus stopped in Cái Bè, a riverside town in Tiền Giang Province. As I stepped off, I was greeted by the sight of the mighty Tiền River, endlessly flowing, carrying with it the rich silt of the land. A small wooden boat was waiting. Uncle Tư, the boatman, flashed a big smile: – “Hop in, kid. Let’s get to the floating market before it gets too crowded!” The boat glided softly over the water, through the morning mist, its engine humming alongside the cheerful voices of vendors. As the golden sunlight broke through, the Cái Bè floating market came alive — a vibrant painting of everyday life. Piles of mangoes, bright red rambutans, and fresh coconuts floated by. A woman sang out from her boat: – “Chè bưởi here! Fresh pomelo sweet soup!” I sat on the boat sipping a glass of strong Vietnamese iced coffee bought from a floating vendor. The bold sweetness mixed with the scent of the river. It felt like I was drinking in the soul of the Mekong. At noon, we docked at a lush fruit orchard on Tân Phong Islet. The host welcomed us with a home-cooked meal: caramelized fish in clay pot, sour soup with wildflowers, and stir-fried shrimp with coconut. It was a simple spread, but each bite was rich with flavor — maybe because of the love and warmth behind it. As the afternoon came, I joined local kids running through the rice fields, flying kites. Laughter echoed along the dikes. The sky turned orange as flocks of white storks flew home. My heart felt lighter than it had in months. That night, I slept in a stilt house by the river, the sounds of frogs and crickets lullabying me into dreams. In my dream, I was a child of the Delta, rowing through lotus ponds by day, listening to folk tales by night. The next morning, as the boat took me back to the dock, Uncle Tư patted my shoulder and said: – “Come back anytime, child. The Mekong will always welcome you.” I smiled, saying nothing. But I knew deep down — I had fallen for this land called The Mekong Delta — with its muddy waters, sweet voices, and a kind of love as deep as the river itself.

VN Tour Land

Author of this story.