"And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you."
Don't worry, that's about as philosophical as this blog post will get... or is it? No promises. You know how I roll. But yeah, that beautiful sight is what happens when you follow the hired Vietnamese driver as he wanders into someone's pottery workshop right as they are stoking the fires of their massive, house-sized pottery kiln. He jumped down into the pit next to the kiln, like so...
...and encouraged me to join, so how could I resist?
From a safer distance.
From the safest distance. The people who owned this workshop were lovely, they let us climb down and up onto the kiln while the fire burned and even offered us some afternoon tea.
So yeah, Phu Lang. It's a couple hours outside of Hanoi. While there may be a public transit option for going there, I tagged along with Lenna, her boyfriend Sam, and their visiting Minnesotan friends Jalene and (Dapper) Dan. They hired a driver for the day who ended up being very helpful and accompanying us from shop to shop (possibly because he suspected we were too simple to figure out where to go) and attempting to drive us laughably short distances, as the Vietnamese are wont to do.
Walking around the village and poking in and out of these workshops was really cool, and although this didn't really seem like the place for crockery or small household items, it still had an interesting mix of things being produced.
Including: boxes and vases. So many boxes. So many vases. These were from the first workshop we stumbled into.
Pre-glaze.
The same style box, post-glaze. I really liked this style, I'm not sure if the camera picks it up but the glaze had a bit of iridescence to it which was really pretty.
Dat gate.
There were several shops that had this kind of adornment on their wall; what from afar looked like fragmented pottery pieces built into the cement and up close seemed to be a mixture of shape/pattern/texture and Vietnamese life tableaux.
Texture! Earth tones! Mosaic!
Fish! Lotus! Water Buffalo!
Kitty cat. Village houses.
In another workshop, we watched while these two Amazons slowly processed the raw clay. It was really incredible to watch.
It was being used to make these pots.
I'm sure there is an elegant metaphor to be made about humanity here and how we're all the same and yet all different, but... meh. Whatever. You get it.
At another workshop, they actually allowed us to walk into the GIANT kiln. Here is the entrance. 50 kg bag of... wheat pollard (what?).... for scale.
Some of the finished products of this workshop.
Meanwhile, inside the kiln...
Residue on the wall from firings past.
It was like, wine cellar-sized.
Lenna and Dapper Dan. For scale. And sweet, sweet tourist memories!
Some boxes depicting three of the four Vietnamese Holy Beasts: the dragon, the turtle, and the phoenix. The turtle is especially significant in Hanoi and the surrounding area because it is the animal associated with the North. Also, although wikipedia talks about this Qilin creature most of the people I've talked to refer to it as a unicorn.
Elsewhere, a noble beast protects his home turf and his master's livelihood. No seaweed-flavored potato chips shall be purloined from these premises, good sir!
Highways. Byways.
We were all pretty into the ingenuity of using boxes to both fill gaps in the walls, perhaps because they're old or faulty or perhaps just because building them into the front of your workshop serves as pretty good advertising for your wares...
More tiles.
We stumbled along this shop as we wandered around and it had some really beautiful, ornate, GIANT urns decorations. Although Bát Tràng is, I believe, the more famous pottery village outside of Hanoi, known more for its household items, I think it was kind of cool to see where this sort of stuff comes from.
Emily for scale.
And then...chicken coop?
These pots were actually made to look as though they are sitting on their side although they have a flat bottom they're resting on. Not sure what their purpose would be. Flower pots, maybe?
More tiles.
A photo of a photo. I think somewhere out there in the world is a photo Dapper Dan took of me taking this photo of Sam taking this photo of Lenna.
It says, ""Ennyn Durin Aran Moria. Pedo Mellon a Minno. Im Narvi hain echant. Celebrimbor o Eregion teithant i thiw hin."
"The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter. I, Narvi, made them. Celebrimbor of Hollin drew these signs."
Nerd joke! Just kidding. I have no idea what is says.
Kind of mesmerizing...
Interesting relief towards the center of the village.
Red boxes.
That is a lot of incense.
I had to stop and take a moment to enjoy this tableau of Vietnamese transportation. Within one front yard contains all the walks (wheels?) of life: infantdom, spent in a stroller or on the backseat of a bicycle. In the back, behind the bike, a tricycle, perfect for the growing tot. Then, the first real taste of childhood freedom: a bike, albeit with training wheels. Later, those will come off, with the confidence, muscle, motor skills. In adolescence, a bigger bike will allow teenagers to go farther, faster, although not fast that they can hurt themselves and not so far that they can't be reeled back in quickly. Finally, adulthood and with it: 120 cc's of gas-fueled, semi-automatic motorbiking freedom. Perhaps one day this house will contain a car, arguably a symbol of the kind of luxury and stability that old age brings. But for now, I think this is a pretty representative spectrum.
That's it for Phù Lãng. We stopped along the way back and had some lunch, and I had one of my favorites: phở xào (according to Google Translate: fried noodle). Only they had a veggie option, something that can not always be found in Hanoi, named: phở xào rau (pronounced: fuh-sow-zow). It was greasy and filling and delicious. I especially enjoyed my carrot triangles.
And behold, it was very good.
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