August 20, 2001- Traveling Fools
(photos-Thai souvenir shirt &
An average day in Hanoi, Viet Nam)
We awoke with surprisingly few aches from our trek yesterday. David’s ankle was tender, but some Advil took care of that. He did some figuring and realized we’d spent $270 for both of us for four days in Chiang Mai. That included hotel, food, tours, tips, taxis, and Internet cafes.
Yesterday we left the hotel at 8:30A.M and flew Thai Air to Bangkok. I’ve never been in such uncomfortable seats. It was a 777 and the headrests were at a really bad angle with no way to adjust them. The Bangkok airport was freezing cold, but we managed to find a warm corner to hunker down for our four-hour layover. As we were going to the food court for lunch, a young, tearful British woman approached us. She’d just walked away from the Aeroflot (Russian Air) counter after learning she needed 500 baht for an exit fee. She was on her way home and was down to her last baht. She’d already checked her luggage and couldn’t get it back. What to do? There was no question that we’d help. We only had enough baht for lunch and our fees, so we gave her $10 American, some bath, and sent her off to the money exchange counter. We figured we’d change some American for lunch. She thanked us profusely and wanted our address so she could pay us back. We told her to pay it forward.
The food court accepted American dollars, so we were fine. I’m in rice and noodle avoidance mode with ten more days to go in Asia. We resisted the teriyaki pork burgers at Burger King but caved and had pizza. For any of you who’ve traveled abroad, you’re familiar with the game of trying to spend the last money of the country you’re leaving. We are proud to say that we left Thailand with only 1 baht. That is worth $0.02. David had to buy onion rings to do it, but he sacrificed for the cause.
As we were waiting to board, we saw two Asian children one with corn rowed hair and one wearing a t-shirt saying, “Surfer’s Paradise Australia" that she bought in Thailand. Although in all other places we could approach the customs official as a couple, here we were chastised for it. When it was my turn he yelled, “ Nearer!” so I moved nearer. I finally figured out that I'd placed my passport on the desk just out of his reach and that's what he wanted nearer.
We arrived in Hanoi at 6:30 P.M. and were met by our guide and driver in an air-conditioned car. They will be our “keepers” for our entire stay in Hanoi. They drove us to our hotel, which turns out to be a five-star, six-year old luxury palace called the West Lake Meritus. It overlooks West and Silk Lakes. This is the area where John McCain escaped to when he fled the Hanoi Hilton. Unfortunately for him, the hotel was not there yet. Our room is large with a king sized bed, marble and carpeted floors, a desk, sitting area, and view of the lake, pool, and health spa.
Our guide settled us in and gave us the name of a restaurant within walking distance of the hotel. Our walk took us through teeming streets of decadent luxury and abject poverty. The causeway between the lakes is known as Lover’s Lane where young couples meet. They buy drinks from stands that dot the area and sit on mats along the water. Lest you think this is picturesque, the sidewalks and road are garbage strewn and the motorbike noise and congestion doesn’t afford much privacy. We frequently had to walk in the street and abide by the rule of all traffic here. Keep moving forward at a steady pace. Don’t pause or change direction. Drivers will steer around you.
We arrived alive enough at the restaurant, which turned out to be in a charming restored building from the French occupation. After the Russian influence of the concrete box style, the Vietnamese have reverted back to a more graceful mode. New construction that’s not modern and high-rise follows old French architecture. At the restaurant, I ordered eggplant in a garlic sauce and David had chicken with chili and lemon grass. Rice was served in a coconut. We drank lemon water, which is a traditional drink here. It was excellent. It wasn’t until the next morning we realized we might be in trouble. It didn’t dawn on us that lemon water was made with water. No problems so far. Dessert was an assortment of mango, pineapple, and dragon fruit. Dragon fruit is white in color with lots of tiny seeds that look like poppy seeds. The taste is mild, not sweet, and the seeds add a crunchy texture. The total for dinner was $10.34. We know this exactly because the bill came in U.S. dollars. U.S. money is as good as the Vietnamese dong here. That brings me to who won the war. There are no McDonald’s here nor KFC. They know about them and are resisting. They have their own brand hamburger places. On the other hand, the countries that have lost wars to us are in much better fiscal and physical shape: note Japan.
Good Morning Viet Nam!
You knew I couldn’t resist.
We learned our first Vietnamese word: phuc means luck. So our concept of getting lucky is right on.
We awoke today to hear on BBC that Cathay Pacific is still thinking of striking. That’s our transportation from Bangkok to Sydney. There are worse places to be stranded. As we prepared to go for breakfast at 8 A.M., we heard loud announcements from outside. Every morning they have country wide informational “teachings” about news and work motivation. It was a reminder of who’s in charge.
We were picked up at 9 A.M. and headed for the pagodas. We passed rice fields with ancestral graves in them. Women riding bikes wore gloves covering their arms and shielded their faces from the sun. Sonny, our guide, told us that women prize white skin, although they are born brown. He remarked that no one is happy. White people in the world try to get tan. He speaks English, Russian (he studied there five years), French, some Chinese and Japanese. He’s a university graduate and teacher who wanted to use his language skills before he lost them, so he became a guide.
He explained the agrarian society to us. In the 1980’s, communal farms weren’t productive. No one had an incentive to work hard. In the 1990’s, they changed to a system where each family was given enough land for the size of that family. If they wanted more land and could afford it, they could lease it from someone who didn’t want to work it. Since some land is more productive or the location is better, every five years, land is re-allocated and farmers get new plots. It has worked. The country has gone from not producing enough to feed its own to being the 2nd largest exporter of rice in the world.
Pet lovers beware! This may be upsetting. I saw several bikes with baskets full of puppies. I asked if dog was eaten here and got the first cogent explanation I’ve ever heard. Buddhists believe in re-incarnation and the dog is the highest rank in the animal kingdom before the spirit comes back in human form. By killing the dog to eat it, they help that soul move up closer to Nirvana. Butchers are held in high esteem because their job is to kill an animal and enable it to be re-born on a higher plane.
Family planning is government sponsored and contraceptives are free. Two children are OK but the third may cause you to be fined if you’re a farmer or to not get promoted (ever) if you're a worker. They don’t abandon their 3rd+ babies, but abortion is known. Women have become more valued so boys, while more prized, are not as necessary as before. The more traditional still want sons. Sons are required to observe ancestor worship not women. Racial mixing is still discouraged, although more accepted by the younger generation. Sonny acknowledged the poor treatment of the children of the U.S. servicemen, but said these abandoned children now are enjoying a good life since many of their fathers are returning to claim them and organizations are working to help them. These children are now in their thirties.
We had a delightful lunch at the hotel. I ate a yummy bowl of Pho (soup with rice noodles). David had a burger and fries (shame on him). While we were eating, a funeral procession went by. It was quite colorful and stopped traffic. There were banners, musicians, and three buses of mourners. After a swim in our glorious pool we napped.
The Traffic Gauntlet
We left the hotel for dinner to the strains of “Guantanamera.” We taxied to Le Tonkin Restaurant (as in the Gulf of) another restored French house. We ate out on a walled patio under a cluster of lush, tall bamboo and palms. We shared delicious chicken hot and sour soup and David had hot pepper chicken. What else? I had chicken with lotus seeds. The seeds were mild and a lot like garbanzo beans. With a beer and lemon water (made with bottled water) it came to $11.45.
We endured another harrowing ride back to the hotel. Red lights mean pause and left turns are made by getting all the way over to the left even if it's a two-way street. Horns are honked instead of using directional signals, but tempers don’t flare. There doesn’t seem to be road rage or digital salutes here. We had an after dinner drink at the bar on the 20th floor. The band was playing “Love Me Tender.” Elvis is alive and well in Hanoi.
I kept thinking of how we tried to bomb the city out of existence. Now we’re friends. It’s too bad we can’t skip the killing part and get to the friendship.
Tomorrow we have a full day of touring. Sonny is also going to take us to an Internet café and to a laundry where we can drop off our stuff. I told you, we take little clothing with us.
Toby
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