An entry in the TFS Travel Journal
We had an early flight, but were quite happy to be departing Hue and the Saigon Moron’s Hotel. We checked the bags at the airport, and paid the usual 20,000 dong tax, then humored the cloying Thong by (after yesterday letting him touch our credit cards - something he claimed never to have done before) demo-ing our laptop. He was predictably mesmorized and grateful, even if we couldn’t access the net nor show him any of our saved jpg files, as they wouldn’t exactly do in this prudish, repressed society. The flight (and landing) was actually smooth for a change, and we were met, belatedly, by our driver. The drive from the airport to the city center embodies the contrasts of this country: for several miles along the modern highway lush green rice paddies stretch into the distance, with traditionally-clad peasants working, milking yaks and harvesting by hand; while, every 1/4 mile or so, in the middle of the fields stands a giant elevated billboard for FedEx, Mazda, Nokia Mobile Phones, etc.
We arrived at our over-priced businessperson’s hotel (though probably the only one in Hanoi), and caught up on emailing until our noon pickup. We met our guide, Cheung, who’s in the younger, already-burnt-out category as opposed to the older, overfunctioning type. He took us to Nam Phuong for lunch, which turned out to be one of the better places in town. We had about five dishes, which were all good, especially the grilled duck and the shrimp cake baked around a sugar cane. The long, thin sugar cane was delicious (and sweet!) and Milton had it for an appetizer and as dessert. We then embarked on a walking tour of Hanoi’s Old Quarter.
It’s basically a mix of the Lower East Side and Chinatown. Some of the streets are quite narrow and winding, and some are normal. The buildings date mostly from the late 1800s and are very French influenced. As usual, the streets are choked with motorscooters moving in every direction, but here, to add to the fun, they are also parked all along the sidewalks so much so that people have to walk along the edge of the street. We strolled through the food market, seeing the usual offerings, as well as many cages of various birds with much food thrown in for them to constantly eat, since they’re sold by weight. The streets are named for their historical shops, including the Street of watches, Chinese herbs, silversmiths, silk, etc. Some are still used for those functions, some new ones have been established (the Street of hardware, sunglasses). All throughout are the ubiquitous women with the long poles with big baskets on each end carrying and selling all sorts of different offerings: produce, cooked fish, even boiling soups! Also all throughout was the never-ending, discordant cacaphony of honking from bicycles, motorscooters and cars as they attempted to maneuver in and around each other. (and don’t even get us started about crossing the streets, as there are absolutely no traffic lights!)
We’d seen just about all there was to see there, or so we felt, so we got into the car and headed for the Palace of Literature. It is a small complex of gardens and buildings that were built in the 11th century and, miraculously, never destroyed. It was the first graduate school in the country (though with extremely rigorous admission standards), and produced only doctorates of philosophy, who were evidently so revered that when they triumphantly returned to their home villages they were given heroic welcomes and parades, and then became high-ranking advisors to the Emperors. (got that, AW?) It was a pretty place, with some notable historic scupltures and temples. As we walked about, we were asked if we’d like to hear some traditional Vietnamese music. We then enjoyed 10 minutes of music similar to what we’d heard previously, but with some singing and some new bamboo percussion. Definitely worth the $3, and we sprung for the $8 cd, also. (coming soon to K-tel?)
It had been a long day (though, thankfully, it was humid but not nearly as hot as the previous several days), so Wendy went back to the hotel and Milton and Cheung walked through some nearby art galleries. Nothing too interesting, though occasionally some nice Asian-style watercolor scenes and some Asian style impressionist works.
Back at the hotel, Milton went for a short workout in their fitness center. Modern gym, hip-hop aerobic music blasting, “NBA Inside Stuff” on the TV, could have been Nairobi, or Buenos Aires. . Then time for dinner and the Water Puppets. Dinner was at a local place, that turned out to be astonishingly bland. (though it is an achievement to make eel w/chili, beef satay, and sauteed vegetables in green curry so tasteless) We then went to the famed Vietnamese Water Puppet show.
It was actually quite entertaining, though it’s one of those things that’s better appreciated in hindsight. A band with traditional Vietnamese instruments, and lots of drums, sits to the side on an elevated platform. The “stage” is a large, rectangular pool of cloudy water in front of a big pagoda with opaque bamboo curtains hanging down from where the puppets appear and exit. The puppets move and gyrate around, in, atop and under the water acting out 20 or so short skits, accompanied by music and much singing and chanting. They’re remarkably decorative (though a few of them looked too much like Mr. Sluggo) and colorfully costumed, and include dragons, fish, all sorts of people, boats, and more. It was certainly something to experience, though we don’t think we’ll catch a repeat performance next week.
As we exited the theatre, we were struck by how vibrant this Communist capital city was, especially in that area (around the small lake (or really large pond) that sits in the city center) with bands performing and lots of people walking about. We saved our nocturnal wanderings for when we return next Tuesday, and came back to the hotel.