Hanoi, Vietnam (Part II)

Street life in Hanoi!
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We LOVE Hanoi.

I think it is our new favorite city in the world. Everyone is so incredibly nice. We were told from various sources that it might be a little tough being Americans in the north of Vietnam, that people might not be so friendly because of the war history with the Americans. But this certainly has not been the case. Although, whenever anyone asks where we are from – and they always do – we say we are from San Francisco. Then they say, ahhh Americans. It's at this point we always want to say, 'yes, we're Americans and we're sorry about that little war you call the American War and Agent Orange, etc., etc.' or 'yes, we're Americans but we really don't like George Bush and we really don't want to conquer the world.' Other travelers upon finding out we are Americans also ask us if we have had a bad experience traveling here because we are Americans – but really we have had nothing but smiles and genuine friendliness. Asian hospitality is some of the best in the world.

At breakfast in the morning, one time he even received an impromptu back massage from one of the staff as we sat waiting for our meal to come.

Stone stelae at the Temple of Literature. People who earned their doctorate had their name inscribed on these stone stelae shaped like turtles. Laurie and I want a stelae.
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Our first night in Hanoi was a little rough because the room we had reserved said that it had air conditioning but was only blowing hot air. Did we tell you how hot Hanoi is yet? Hanoi is so hot that we are constantly profusely sweating. In fact, Adam really looks like one of those pretend nervous characters on TV where you know little hoses are hooked up to their heads as water is just pouring out and down their face. But Adam has no little hoses hooked up to him. Anyhow, next morning we promptly found another hotel with a kickin air conditioner and very nice staff. The staff LOVED Adam. Men in Vietnam and Asia for that matter are very affectionate with each other – it's not uncommon to see men holding hands or putting their arms around each other in friendship. So, having said that, the men at our new hotel just loved to joke around with Adam and be quite touchey with him. Every time we would walk in the hotel, they would make the same joke with us, "We don't have any more rooms available!" Our retort back would always be "That's ok because we don't have any money to pay you!" Then we would all laugh and the guys would come over to Adam and do the male 'one-two fake punch in the stomach' motion and then hang all over Adam – pat his back, hold onto his hand, etc. Now, we would come in and out of our hotel often during the day – mostly because it's air conditioned – and this is the exact same scene that would happen every time. At breakfast in the morning, one time he even received an impromptu back massage from one of the staff as we sat waiting for our meal to come.

The afore-mentioned "Nature and Youth" exhibit at the Ho Chi Minh Museum. Remember, it's "Uncle Ho!"
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Another great thing about Hanoi is something they call Bia Hoi's. One side fact is that water is more expensive than beer in Vietnam. And, well, Adam and I like to do our best with saving money here and there when we can. So, a Bia Hoi is a little outdoor place with those insanely tiny plastic kid stools and tiny little tables with a guy serving beer from a keg at an insanely cheap price – I think 12 cents a glass. Adam will take over the description of our Bia Hoi experiences from here:

Laurie chillin' in a cyclo.
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Adam here. There's truly so much about Hanoi that makes it amazing. There's the architecture, a mix of French, American, and Asian. There's the people. So friendly, kind, sweet. There's the smell. That smell. The cooking, the air, I don't know what it is. There's an energy in the city. You've got people passing by on motos and bicycles and cyclos and cars and on foot. You've got the women walking by wearing the conical hats, with a staff on there shoulder balanced on each side with a hanging basket full of goods. It looks like a scale. They scamper down the street, either selling their wares or simply carrying their supplies home. Nothing articulates the feel and energy of Hanoi though like the Bia Hoi. Bia Hoi means "fresh beer" if I recall correctly. It's a street side stall that sells fresh beer in a large vat, not unlike a keg. You sit on tiny stools at small tables and sip beer from a mug. The mugs are washed by being twice dumped into a communal bucket, cleanliness and hygiene being slightly different here than in the States. Most, if not all, of the Bia Hois also have a small stove to cook some snacks with, and often the locals will smoke tobacco from a water pipe. They're communal, and they're cheap. A glass of Bia costs typically 2000 dong. 2000 dong is 12.5 cents. A glass of beer costs 12.5 cents. (I had to repeat that). We had two experiences at Bia Hois. The first was on our first full day back from Halong Bay. We sat down and were immediately greeted by a local man, a patron, who wanted to chat with us and have a beer. We talked a bit, about where we were from, what we liked about Hanoi, and he talked to us about his job, and where he was from. It was, of course, a bit strained as his English was limited, but he was so kind and so sweet, and just wanted nothing more than to meet us and talk. We were so happy to talk with him, it was a really great experience. Then, at the end, despite our loudest and strongest protestations, he bought our drinks. We had wanted to buy his beer, but he was really proud and happy to do it for us, and we said goodbye and continued on.

Confuscious shrine in Temple of Literature.
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The next Bia Hoi was on the next day, our second to last day. We had just visited the Dong Xuan market, which was something that Laurie was particularly excited about. If you know anything about Laurie and shopping in Asia, it's on! It turned out to be more of a locals market, littered with trinkets and small appliances, and some fabrics, but nothing that would have the independant artists that we love so much. But, no worries, we headed out onto the streets, knowing that Hanoi's charm would seduce us with some other activity. We didn't have to wait long. Laurie spotted a Bia Hoi on the street and said, "Let's stop." We sat down. Remember first and foremost that this is a social thing amongst locals, this isn't a tourist stop. You are more than welcome to stop there, but most tourists don't make it a point to stop at an abundance of Bia Hois. At a Bia Hoi, you're going to find locals relaxing after/before work, or on their days off, chilling with a beer, talking and enjoying each other's company. We were, therefore, the only westerners there. We sat down, ordered two beers, ("Hai bia"), and set in to people watch. A man sits at the vat/keg and "washes" glasses as well as fills glasses. When you're done, you hand him your glass. He fills it again. Another 12.5 cents. He occassionally indulges in a bit of drink himself. All around us, sitting shoulder to shoulder, at the next table, across the way, locals (all men), were talking and drinking, snacking on things wrapped in banana leaves, and smoking tobacco from water pipes. They talked and laughed and grew animated with one another, and this is how they spent their evening. Some were not interested in us, but many were. Those next to us practised their English and engaged us in conversation. They all, of course, wanted to know where we were from. We told them. They had a great time talking with us. One guy drove up on a moto, and without getting off, indulged in a libation. (This combination of drinking and driving, with no helmets, is a tad bit worrisome). People asked what we did, and then they offered us something to snack on. In my best Vietnamese, I asked if it was vegetarian, and made sure that it had no fish sauce. (C'om chay?  Toi an chay. Khong n'u'oc mam!). They assured me it was c'om chay, or vegetarian food. It was some type of steamed vegetable. It was good. We all laughed together, we all drank together, we all relaxed together. Hanoi's charm is just so difficult to describe. It is a wonderful city that has a vibrant mix of new and old. I know we've spoken incessantly about it, but we were just overwhelmed by the city. We loved nothing more than walking through the city. I know that we haven't really talked about sites yet, but the day-to-day life is so deserved of attention. We hope that we have captured just a fraction of the essence of what makes Hanoi, Hanoi. But before we sign off about Hanoi, let me mention 3 other things. Cyclos, roving scales, the Ho Chi Minh Museum.

Laurie at ethnic home exhibit at Museum of Ethnology.
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Cyclos are a version of the tuk-tuk or a rickshaw, a small transportation device that essentially consists of a carriage and some method of locomotion. A rickshaw is carried, a tuk tuk has a motor, and a cyclo, (as the Vietnamese write it, "Xich Lot", and like as in the number one, mot, the t is largely silent), is propelled by pedals, like a bicycle. The cyclo has its carriage in the front, and can hold one or two people. The driver sits on the back and steers the device while pedaling it along, all in the midst of the Hanoi traffic we've attempted to describe previously. Cyclo rides are so much fun. It's a great way to experience the city and Old Quarter specifically. Prices are negotiated, of course, with the initial offer usually about twice the rate you will wind up paying. As is the case always in Asia, haggling is fun and mutually enjoyed. We took a couple of trips, a couple of times taking video as we rode through the streets. Once, as mine was pedaling through an intersection, against a red light, an oncoming van decided not to stop and kept heading toward me. I watched in wonder as the van kept coming toward me, honking, not intending to stop, and only acquiescing at the final moment, mere inches from my cyclo.

Adam cooking in ethnic home exhibit. (Note: I've included this photo because of how sickly my left leg looks. Seriously, if there's one part of my body I'm comfortable with, it's my legs. What in the world happened in this photo?!)
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One of the stranger things that we experienced were the roving scales. It was usually women who would cart around a tall standing scale, (yes for weighing, but not things like produce, but people, a scale for people!), and people would pay to have themselves weighed. Now, we have no idea why people would do this, and truth be told we never say anybody indulge, but we loved it nonetheless. We kept meaning to stop and take part, whatever the price, but ultimately kept forgetting.

Finally, a word about one site we visited, the Ho Chi Minh Museum. Ho Chi Minh, of course, is quite revered. A museum dedicated to him is adjacent to his mausoleum. Visiting the mausoleum is viewed by many Vietnamese as a pilgrimage. Unfortunately, it's only open for a few hours in the morning, (closed for several months during the fall for maintenance on the embalming of his body), and it was too late for us to see it.  But, alas!, we got to see the museum. It's old photos and journals and letters and other paraphenelia, but more than that, it's absurd. From the outside, it's sleek and modern, cool and composed. Inside, it's MOMA on crack. Honestly, it looks like Salvador Dali did the interior design while on a bad acid trip. We're going to add some photos to this blog when we get a chance, (this computer that I'm on right now sucks), and you'll have to see them. Its one bizarre display after another, meant to symoblize some value that Ho Chi Minh believed in. For example, because Ho Chi Minh believed that the youth are an important resource for protecting the country and that nature is very important, (how these two are related, I'm not so sure), a display, or exhibit exists that is comprised of a large, square, white kitchen table, with oddly angled and misshaped chairs, dipping forward just a touch, with large plastic fruit, out of scale, on the table, against a backdrop of factories and smoke stacks.  And there, my friends, is the symbol of the importance of youthful imperialism and nature.