It's Nearly Two Years

Time on my hands, it seems my days will be less busy for a while. The government here have been advising people not to panic over the outbreak of H1N1 (Swine Flu) in the city, but in their own state of stress, have closed all schools until further notice.
Thinking about the way people live here, in such close proximity, it would have been wiser to shut down the bus service, karaoke bars and Big C supermarket, which is a leisure destination for all Vietnamese. I won’t start on Big C because it is the place I hate most in Hanoi, loud annoying music, crowded, slippery floors and a pre-Christmas rush at the checkout everyday. It is not uncommon to be strolling around and have a local come over to check out all the goods in your trolley, just curious to see what a Westener buys. The best thing about Big C is the aroma of freshly baked bread sticks. They come out every hour and it is one with a death wish who tries to get their hands on one. It’s like a David Jones sale without the etiquette.

I prefer to wander along the alleys and streets near our house where fresh produce sits in baskets on the road side or baskets that are like saddle bags on a rusty old bicycle. Veggies are incredibly fresh, the eggs still have dirty marks on them and a friendly smile pops out from under the conical hat of the seller. Prices are variable, sometimes more to the sellers advantage. There are all the familiar vegetables as well as lots that I have no idea what they are or how to cook them. Fish swim in shallow water in big metal bowls, the sellers splashing small plastic bags in the water to keep it aerated. I put my head down and walk quickly past the butchers. All kinds of offal, chickens and ducks with or without appendages, pigs trotters and lumps of unrecognizable meat sit on scrubbed table tops, exposed to the flies and dust. I’m told meat is prepared daily, but lots can happen in a day under those conditions. Plus, I’m never sure if the piece has previously barked, can’t come at that.

A big bonus of these markets are the flowers. For an absolute fraction of what I pay at home, I can buy long stemmed roses, Asian lilies, gerberas or chrysanthemums, wrapped in newspaper and tied with a reed. But my favourite are the lotus flowers, tight tear shaped buds that unfold to show a waxen like pod in the centre. The most common is in a soft pink, but there is also a beautiful creamy white. They drop their petals quickly, only sharing their beauty for a day or two.

It is summer now, the days are hot and becoming steamy with rain falling more frequently. I think the Vietnamese can smell the rain. It is funny to watch with the first hint of moisture in the air. Almost as though someone has blown a whistle, motorcycles glide over to the side of the road, a scramble to open the under seat compartment to produce a raincoat, which is hastily thrown on before again joining the thronging traffic. Like a sea of giant multi-coloured condoms, dodging puddles and managing to ride their bikes with their knees tucked up their chest so as to keep their feet dry. There seems to be a real fear of getting wet, even the slightest. While in the Old Quarter tourists can be seem walking in the rain, almost reveling in it. I think they are all Australians delighting in the downpour, don’t see that at home!

The warmer weather brings people out, especially at night. Walking around the lake, sitting on the roadside having a coffee or playing together on the footpath. Women power walking in pairs around the perimeter of parks or pushing children as they sit on plastic ride on toys, the ones with a long handle at the back. There is a real sense of shared community.

We have started sleeping with the balcony door open but get woken early by noise in the alley. There is a rooster who crows at about 4.30 and not long after that there is a dog who barks. At about 7am, the loudspeakers on a pole at the end of the alley start to sprout what can only be party propaganda. Fortunately they are far enough away not to be a real bother. If there is no news to share for the day, they play music, not always the best so distance does help here. Can’t say as much for the neighbour who loves his karaoke.

Noise seems to be part of life here. There is the constant blasting of horns on the roads. It is like a mating call for motor bikes, one will sound and in the distance it mate replies only to call again, even louder and with a different rhythm. Occasionally there will be an even louder truck horn sound, as though it is the bull of the herd asserting its superiority. If you watch the bikes closely, you can see their mating ritual. They will travel along together, side by side, one teasing the other with swift maneuvers through the traffic. Calling to each other, beep beep. Then without warning, they collide, one trying to mount the other before they fall apart, creating havoc among the herd. This is usually preceded by some louder, longer calls from all members of the herd.

There is a little boy in our alley who we always hear before we see. He has obviously had heart surgery, evidence being the thick central scar. I sometimes think, if they hadn’t operated would he be quieter. There are lots of people here still living day to day existence with the after affects of Agent Orange. I wonder if the Americans knew it would have such a long lasting legacy for these people. We saw a woman the other day with a nodular growth on her neck, equal to the size of her head. It had to be interfering with her breathing and swallowing. She sat on the path with her hat turned up, begging. People glanced at her, or took a longer look, and walked past. When I stopped she had 10,000 dong in her hat, less than a dollar. She had the most beautiful eyes. She was sitting on the path leading to a church and people were going in for mass, Vietnamese and foreigners.

We have been here for 2 years now and I have compiled a bit of a reflection on Vietnam, its people and life here. Hope you enjoy.


Anything is possible, and lots of things are impossible.

Women all appear four inches taller than there natural height…because of the incredible heels they wear – even high heeled sneakers.

Men could be four inches taller than their actual height …but they all smoke heavily so their growth is stunted.

Children are cherished, until it comes to road safety. They travel on motor bikes without any protection or can be seen bouncing on the front seat of a car.

Al Fresco dining is alive and well, everyone eats on the pavement here sitting on short plastic stools at equally short steel tables.

“Wait some minutes” is a common saying that translates to “How long have you got?”

Everyone has a relative in business, that is - which ever business you may be seeking.

Your neighbours will do anything to help you.

Your neighbours can be very embarrassed by their countrymen if someone does anything against you.

If you are a Westener, it is assumed you are incredibly rich and can easily afford to support the country in this economic climate.

Karaoke in Vietnamese is no better that karaoke in English.

Don’t underestimate the government.

The chance of bumping into someone you know while out shopping is very slim.

Nothing is ever planned in advance, things do happen but mostly without too much forward planning. Then there is always the fortune teller to advise if it is the right time, so that can be a hold up too.

Vietnamese TV can be really entertaining, especially if you’ve had a few beers, turn off the sound and add your own soundtrack.

Everyone knows how to smile and share that smile with whoever would like to look.

Fresh fruit and vegetables are just that … FRESH. In the market, they come straight from the garden and keep so much longer. Of course, some may have little munching from bugs, but to me that means organic – no pesticides.

It is possible to be woken in the morning by the call of a rooster.

It is also possible to be woken in the morning by barking dogs, construction workers or blasting truck horns.

Women here have beautiful eyes, and they seem ageless. Hidden under a conical hat, they sparkle with a smile and never look sad.

Young people all want to go to America.

Some old people still have a grudge against America.

Because of Agent Orange, some young people should have a grudge against America. Its life lives on.

Children are still safe to play in the front yard of their home… or at least, where the front yard would be.

Vietnam produces fantastic coffee.

Always expect the unexpected.

Tet and Thailand

Tet and Thailand

It comes around but once a year, well…no actually. Here we celebrate New Year twice. We do the usual 31st of December then according to the Chinese calendar, we celebrate again at Tet. This year it was in January, Australia Day to be precise.
Here in Hanoi the preamble was a little more subdued than last year in Ho Chi Minh City, but there were still a few flower displays to herald in Spring and the hustle and bustle of locals that can be akin to Christmas Eve in the shops at home. But of course there are millions more people and they possess no shopping trolley etiquette.
We had fun at school with the kids in the lead up to Tet. One day we all sat on the floor making rice cakes, a mixture of rice, beans and pork wrapped in banana leaves, tied with reeds and boiled. Not on the top of my yummy list, but lots of fun to make and I guess the equivalent to mince pies at Christmas. We had a branch of a peach tree in the front foyer and that was slowly bursting into fine pink flowers. This is the year of the buffalo, so my artistic talents were challenged as I was given the job of decorating the front door with a traditional image of a boy riding on the back of a buffalo.
As a work break-up, James and I were invited to dinner toward the end of the week. Everyone sat on the floor around some boiling pots of beef stock and bits and pieces were added and cooked. This was yum! Except the eggs, fertilized duck eggs are off my menu.
Tet is a time for family, so most of the city dwellers return to their country towns to share food and fun with all the family. For Ex-pats it is a chance to travel. We had a week off work so booked a trip to Thailand, hoping to catch the sights of somewhere different.
At Bangkok airport we met our good friend Darryl. Arlene, a Queenslander that we have met here came with us, and the four of us had a great time exploring Northern Thailand. First challenge was a taxi to the hotel. After some haggling, we all piled in and chatted, catching up on news from home as we made our way to the hotel.
Bangkok is busy, but clean and friendly. The drivers show much more respect for pedestrians on the road and we were delighted at their lack of use of the horn, something Vietnamese drivers seem to think is compulsory. We got around town either by taxi or Tuk-Tuk, a motorbike with open cabin seating two on the back. They zip in and out through the traffic, quite an experience, but you are open to the fumes from buses and trucks. Another popular mode of transport in Thailand is the ute. Some have cabins with bench seats on the back, others are open with ropes tied at angles for people to hang on. We traveled in the one with more comfort. They are a sort of cross between a bus and a taxi. You tell the driver where you want to go, agree on a price and he picks up or drops off others along the way.
Thailand is predominantly Buddhist, about 90% of the population following this way of life. So there was an abundance of temples to see. We went to The Grand Palace, a huge complex of regal buildings that also incorporates several religious buildings. It is here that a sacred Emerald Buddha is housed in a beautiful jewel encrusted temple. Also here is a big gold building that looks like it has been squeezes through a cake icing nozzle. It features in most photos related to Thai tourism. Within this structure is a piece of the Buddha’s breastbone, so the guide books tell us.
After a few days we flew to Chiang Mai in the north of Thailand. We were expecting it to be cooler but found the climate just right. A smaller and originally walled city, this was found to be a beautiful place with a slower pace than Bangkok. Again there were temples and religious buildings everywhere but, for me, the most exciting adventure was riding on an elephant.
We lumbered through the jungle atop this huge beast, splashing through flowing rivers and ducking under trees. Occasionally the elephant would stop and swing its trunk back for a reward of bananas. Then it was off again, the handler sitting just behind the elephant’s ears and shouting something every now and then to keep him going.
After the elephant ride, our next mode of transport was a bamboo raft to float back down the river. We were met by our guide who then took us on to a tiger park. Here we were in the cage with these rather docile beasts. I think they slip them a valium in their morning porridge because they seemed far too tame and sleepy to be in a natural state. I felt quite safe in there with them because they were really just lounging about, rolling on their backs to have their tummy rubbed, just like a big cat.
On one of our trips around we visited a small village which has quite a well organized governing group who charge tourists an expensive fee to visit. It was here we met some of the minority groups of the area, the most fascinating the Long Neck Tribe. The women start at a young age to stretch their necks with a series of brass bands. While the practice now is not encouraged, there were still some young girls wearing the neck bands, obviously to keep the thriving tourist trade alive in the future. Another group of women had earrings that would be about 3-4 cms in diameter making holes in their earlobes, surely would make the wind whistle on a breezy night. Obviously the fee charged here goes back into the community because we saw a school, evidence of good dental and health care and running water and electricity.
Temples are everywhere and early one morning the boys and I took a car with driver to the top of a mountain to see yet another. Here, on the highest point in Thailand is the most fantastic garden surrounding two temples dedicated to the current King and his wife. I was in awe of the gardens and the view. Mind you it was cold but well worth the trek. From the temple we moved on to a waterfall that was a true spectacle of nature. It was a day well worth the early morning start, and we teased Arlene for missing it.
We took a tour to the Golden Triangle, a meeting place of the borders of Thailand, Laos and Myanmar (Burma). Part of the visit included a boat ride across the river to Laos and on the soil for about 30 minutes, just long enough to get our passport stamped. Life here is depressing. Children were fighting to get some biscuits and sweets I had taken with me, begging from the tourists for coins and looking as though nobody cared for them. I wonder if any of the fee that we paid to disembark finds its way back to the community or if it is all swallowed by the officials, probably the latter.
Back in Bangkok, our holiday was making its way toward the end. Our last cultural adventure was to Vimanmek Mansion, previously home to the Royal Family but now a museum. Even though the Royal family is not in residence we still had to show respect and the boys needed to cover their legs with some borrowed, unflattering trousers. I just walked ahead pretending I didn’t know them. This house is built of white teak, a wood with a golden hue and really quite beautiful. The craftsmen who built the place didn’t use nails, it is held together with dowels. It houses a centuries treasures, gifts and personal effects of those who lived there. Still present is some fire damage from bombs dropped during WW11. Considering the house is made of wood, it was a miracle that the fire burnt itself out without too much damage.
All too soon the holiday was over. We were all going our separate ways. Arlene took a morning flight and we left Darryl with a tour group to continuing traveling south. Our plane brought us back to Hanoi feeling disappointed that the holiday was so short. But we are hoping to get to Thailand again, maybe see the southern beaches and experience a little more of Thailand’s beauty and hospitality.