Farewell, Vietnam

Ted. I am writing this post in a very nice high rise hotel room in the ritzy Shinjuku neighborhood of Tokyo, Japan. From our window I look out over crystal blue skies. There are no sounds of the traffic below us, you can drink the tap water, the toilet has multiple functions and you can even flush the paper. 

And yet…I don’t hear children playing in the street at night. I’m not greeted by name by smiling staff members and there is nothing within a 20 minute walk but office buildings and big hotels. I know we will have a wonderful time during our three weeks in Japan, but in many ways, I really miss Vietnam. 

What a remarkable history that country has! In just the last 100 years they have fought wars with France, Japan, Cambodia, China and the US. They have survived droughts, famine, typhoons and disastrous land reform policies. Yet, there is a sincere warmth in the smiles of most folks we have encountered. Maybe they realize the importance of the foreign currency that tourists bring to their families. Or maybe they are just proud to have replaced their bicycle with a scooter!

Is Vietnam perfect? No way! It’s a developing country with all of the negatives that entails such as dirty air and water, trash in the streets and streams and horrible traffic. The infrastructure is crying for improvements and country folk are racing to the big cities causing incredible congestion and straining limited resources. 

But Vietnam has an exuberance about it. Everyone is dreaming of a bright future and some parents probably imagine their children traveling the world soon, just like the Korean and Malaysian tourists they see on their streets everyday. 

I am amazed, given the vast political, economic, cultural and language differences that exist, that we were able to make so many personal connections in just six short weeks. Suong, a lady who prepared our breakfast every day in Hoi An keeps up with Judy on Facebook now. Tuey, a lady who owns a small restaurant messaged Judy the other day. Several folks in Hanoi are now reading our blog. And everyone - everyone insisted that we MUST return one day! 

If it were easier to get there, I wouldn’t even think twice about planning a return visit, but I am torn. When brainstorming future travel, Judy and I inevitably struggle between visiting new countries and returning to countries that we know and love. Our visit to Vietnam has further complicated these discussions. 

One trait I admire in the Vietnamese (as well as most Asians) is a deep reverence for one's ancestors. On several occasions, I have found myself in a temple or shrine breathing in the incense, with eyes closed, and smiling at mental images of my parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles.

At Judy’s suggestion, I just read The Mountains Sing by Nguyen Phan Que Mai. Most of the novel takes place in the Old Quarter of Hanoi and every day I walked the same streets as the characters, further deepening my connection to the country.

At one point in the book, a grandmother says to her granddaughter, “If our stories survive, we will not die, even when our bodies are no longer here on this earth.”

Hanoi

Judy. As much as I loved Hoi An, I was ready and excited to go to Hanoi, but when we landed in Hanoi and I got a look at the pollution, I almost asked Ted if we could cancel and go somewhere else. I mean, with Tet and the burning of the gifts for ancestors, it was rough in Hoi An, but here we are smack dab in the middle of the city burning gifts and trash, plus vehicle emissions, in a city surrounded by mountains. Add to my distress, our beautiful, open, sunny Maison Fleur in Hoi An was gone, and we settled into a closed off hotel on a dirty street where we are surrounded by motorcycle rental shops. And the motorcycles are everywhere and fast. I reminded myself, though, that I always need a day or so to settle in. No begging to leave just yet. 

And I’m glad I waited. Hanoi is a large, capital city, with all that entails, good and bad. And we are in a rapidly developing country, with all that entails, good and bad. Despite its issues, this is an interesting—and often charming—city. 

There are, of course, lots of tourists, from well-dressed Europeans, Asians, and Americans, to young kids with towering backpacks and dreads. All seem to blend in beautifully. But it’s the locals I love to watch. We arrived on Tet, and the day after, walked down to Hoan Kiem Lake, which dominates a park filled with flowers. Locals in traditional dress (mostly women) posed by the ancient shrine and towers, while both professional and amateur photographers captured them. 

Contrasts: ancient Turtle Tower and a new building beyond 

Women in their áo dài, photographed in front of a shine

And teen boys like to wear their street gear for tough photo

I thought that would be the last I saw of the traditional dress, but—no! Although many of the working women in our neighborhood wear pants and shirts that could come from WalMart, we see women in velvet and high heels navigating the impossible sidewalks to duck into tiny tea houses and restaurants, and sit on ridiculously tiny stools to eat their street food. It is definitely a city of contrasts. 

A street cafe

A street barber takes a break

A woman poses by an orange tree at the lake

We’ve found wonderful things. Train Street, where people pile into the cafes on either side of a train track in order to see the train go whooshing past, inches from their faces. It’s just way cool, so we went twice. The old City Gate, the National History Museum (but only the 20th century part—the earlier is under renovation), Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum, where the faithful line up for as much as two hours to walk past his embalmed body, the fascinating Museum of Ethnology, and Women’s Museum, Hoa Lo Prison (Hanoi Hilton), now mostly destroyed to make way for Hanoi Towers, a sparkling new apartment building, and, of course, the Thang Long Water Puppets. 

Train Street

City gate. The flags indicate a shrine.

Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum

Hoa Lo Prison and Hanoi Towers Apartments

We live in the Old Town, with winding streets, narrow alleys and a plethora of motorcycles that we’ve learned to dodge, since we need to walk in the street because more motorcycles are parked on the sidewalks. In the old days, each street harbored its own shops—the one next to us is mostly hardware. There’s also jewelry street, tinsmiths’ street, fabric street, and so on. Packed in among those are souvenir shops, street food, coffee shops, and temples. Walking the same streets, we spot new things we’ve not seen before—unless we’re dodging cars and motorbikes. We’ve gotten pretty darned good at crossing the street between vehicles. You just have to keep moving and keep your eyes open. 

Working my way through the motorscooters

Typical street traffic

A paper jewelry and accessories set to buy and burn for ancestors

Just outside the Old Town is the old French Quarter, where it’s much easier to walk on the wide sidewalks. Buildings are European in style, and that’s where the embassies are located. There’s also a bustling “new city” with skyscrapers further out. We saw that part when we went on trips out of town. Hanoi is a great base to explore other parts of northern Vietnam. 

European-style houses grace the French quarter near the Cathedral

But for the most part, we manipulated our Old Town village, nodding xin chau to old ladies sitting just inside shops, hawkers pushing “maa-saa!” (Massage), men sitting on impossibly small stools drinking tea and smoking, and folks still burning offerings. An almost hidden wine bar, Tannin, became a favorite escape some evenings.

Modern, European wine bar in the middle of Old Town

Our hotel staff is delightful. Jasmine makes sure we see everything she considers important, Ben greets us with “Haiiiii! Where you going today?” On our first day meeting him, he gave us Tet “lucky money”! Minh, who handles most nights, is young, polite and efficient. 

Our super staff--Minh, Ben, and Jasmine

Although the streets on either side of us are crazy busy, Hang But, our block-long street, is blessedly quiet. Our room is on the front of the building, and at night you can hear the children playing in the street and see the lady in the velour pantsuit getting her exercise by walking up and down the street over and over. About 8:30, a recording with the sweet sound of children’s voices fills the air. We thought it was an announcement telling children it’s time for bed, but no. It’s the nightly garbage truck playing a song about how important it is to keep the city clean and green. (You can check it out on YouTube—Hanoi garbage truck.) 

Before coming to this country, I read a beautiful book about a family living in northern Vietnam, called The Mountains Sing. It takes place over many years, and we’ve now visited some of the places the author talks about. That helps me a lot to understand more about the country. 

Will we ever come back to Hanoi? Maybe. Probably not. We’ve not seen everything, but I think we’ve seen enough. I was expecting some bitterness about Americans and the Vietnam War. I think, though, that these people have been through so many wars and so much poverty, that we’re just an ugly blip, and, in the words of a character in a book I read, “That was years ago, and, anyway, we won.” The country is changing fast.

Ninh Binh

Ted. For our final excursion outside of Hanoi, we took a day trip by car to this historic region in the Red River delta. Dotted with more karst hills, some folks call Ninh Binh “Ha Long Bay on Land.” It too can be seen by water but on a different type of vessel. 

In the village of Tam Coc, we boarded a row boat to explore a bit of the Ngo Dong River. 

We arrived early so most boats weren't in use

Our skipper (most are female)

Note the unique way they handle the oars

The scenery was captivating and we saw how they actually grow rice on the shallow banks of the river. 

Open Bill Storks munch on snails

We passed through three caves and I actually had to duck a couple of times. 

After a hearty lunch, we visited Bich Dong Pagoda, a 15th century temple complex built into caves on the side of a hill. 

Judy and our guide, Tuu approach the entrance

Lady Buddha

Our final stop for the day was at the ancient citadel of Hoa Lu. Having grown up in this village, the first emperor of Vietnam, Dinh Bo Linh established his capital here in the late 10th century.

As a boy, Dinh Bo Linh loved to ride his water buffalo and pretend he was a great warrior engaged in battle. The animals still graze peacefully on the grounds. 

We watched as some other boys played with their pet on the same field where soldiers once trained.

All too soon it was time to get back in our car and endure the long ride back to the big city of Hanoi.

Mai Chau, Day 2: Pa Co

Judy. We had hoped to find some Thai textiles at the Mai Chau village, but, frankly, the shops were rather touristy. But Sunday, we headed to the Pa Co Sunday Market, where we looked forward to finding Hmong textiles, and, even better, see the Hmong dressed in their traditional clothing as they came to buy food, textiles, and, for the young people, to flirt. 

And what a delight it was! Binh made sure we left early, so when we arrived in the town of Pa Co, the only people we saw were the locals. These people wear their traditional clothing all the time, and they come to the market to buy and sell food, clothing, fabric, tools. and threads for weaving and embroidering.

A young couple head home with their treasures

This young mother carried her baby in a traditional embroidered carrier

Tradition meets modern look!

As we negotiated our way through the aisles and the locals, Binh steered us toward good quality and reasonable prices. Most of what we saw for sale were gorgeous cross stitch accents to be sewn onto clothes, or batiks in indigo and a tan color from a local tree root. We went a bit crazy. 

Binh negotiates with a seller for her embroidery work

I lost my mind with all the stunning batik

The Hmong women make beautifully detailed and colorful batik, embroidered, and patchwork skirts. Ted had seen one displayed on a wall at our hotel, so when we spotted a young woman with one she had made, we seriously considered it, despite the high price, but Binh told us to wait. 

Batik safely tucked away in Ted’s backpack, Binh led us on a walk through the Pa Co village, pausing to speak to villagers he knows from past visits and stays. As with the Thai houses, these are wood, but unlike them, they sit on the ground, not on stilts. Families, like in most of the tribes, tend to stay together. 

An old Hmong house

And a new one, complete with the ubiquitous motorbike

Hemp drying to be dyed and maybe turned into batik

Leaving Pa Co, we drove over several mountains with narrow roads. Kai, our driver, was great, taking his time and getting past oncoming cars and scooters with ease. I wasn’t sure quite where we were going, but Binh had been full of surprises, and sure enough, he had one for us—the Hang Kia overlook. Despite the clouds (and the wooden planks I had to walk on) the view was spectacular! I’m afraid of heights, but it was so beautiful I forgot to be scared. 

Felt like walking in clouds

Binh had one more surprise for us. When we drove back into Mai Chau, he pulled up to one of the shops in the rabbit warren of the touristy area. We walked past the dozens of shawls we’d seen everywhere, and into a secret room, where the owner had antique textiles. We found a stunning antique Hmong skirt, which we gladly bought (at a quarter the price of the new one). 

Our much-loved and worn Hmong skirrt

Another yummy meal at a Thai homestay, and we headed the long way home to Hanoi, happy with another weekend away, and more information to absorb. We learned so much from Binh, who was one of the best tour guides we've ever had. Unfortunately, we were so busy that we forgot to take a photo of him and Kai.

As a side note, we spotted a skirt like ours in the Vietnam Museum of Ethnology, and another antique one for sale in the shop, which cost several thousand dollars. Wow! Ours was less than $100!

The top skirt in the museum display is almost exactly like ours