What's Cookin' at our Vietnam Homestay?

I sat in a dimly lit kitchen, slicing cauliflower. I thought I was doing
fairly well until my efforts were met with a gleeful cackle. "Too small!"
Me crowed, poking at my minuscule cauliflower. I crowded my shoulders
protectively over my vegetables, crying out "they're more edible this
way!" Me and Kerr, our trekking guides were having a few of us (Joei, Jen,
Shani) help them prepare a dinner along with the owners of the home stay.
As all of the Vietnamese women present had been cooking since they were 10,
our efforts were somewhat lacking. Our onion slices were too thick and we
chopped at a snail's pace. All the same it was great to be cooking again.
Shortly after the prep work, Ker, a petite 24 year old (who hikes in full
traditional wear with a giant umbrella) approached us with a large bowl
filled with chopped vegetables steeped in egg yolk and a sheaf of rice
paper. She was going to have us prepare the evenings spring rolls! Spring
rolls have been unquestionably the best in Vietnam. The rice paper
disintegrates quickly, so we all raced to make them both aesthetically
pleasing and functional. I catch on quicker than the others after one to
two failures, as it is much like rolling a burrito (shout out to San
Diego). In a few minutes we have a delectable stack. Ready to be fried.
The rest of the girls present depart, except for Rebecca and me. I feel my
time can best be spent observing the goings on of the kitchen. I quickly
find I've made the right choice. Me, whom I adore, sits across from me with
the fried spring rolls, cutting them in half with scissors. My attempts at
helping her were met with stout refusal at every turn. I think after my
previous butchering of a simple task, she has lost faith in my culinary
abilities. Instead, she passes me a number of spring rolls to consume, I
suspect to both placate my desire to be of help and to muffle any further
requests. It works, as I am consumed with the juicy, crispy, flaky
concoction. I can hardly believe I had anything to do with their
construction. The meal in it's completion was wonderful, joined with the
Vietnamese take on Lao Lao (sticky rice whiskey), "happy water." Happy
water indeed! We played a few rounds of spoons, where the winner had to
either drink or sing. It wasn't long before we were all in the courtyard,
arms slung around one another, boisterously caroling Christmas songs at the
insistence of Maddie D. (She is hankering for the Christmas spirit.)
Finally, we all burrowed into our netted nests, lulled to sleep by Trevor
reading aloud, our full tummies and our pleasantly heavy limbs.
Hayley Eyer