Long Bien bridge is truly long, and high, and rickety-symbolic now despite the modern structures as originally the only bridge over the wide Red River which follows into Hanoi, and as such a target for heavy bombardment by Americans. It survived and still carries heavy traffic, a central railway, and a very fragile pavement!
Only a few walkers brave the distance, me being one of them. I don’t like to be beaten.
At the other end I collapsed into a riverside café and ordered iced jasmine tea, greeted with much enthusiasm and amusement by villagers. I was more bemused by their system of charging their phones! Dodgy wiring everywhere here. I’ve got used to looking up for hanging hazards and down for street level dangers, especially fires/smouldering ash; my friends think its hilarious that I walk at all…the city is not designed for it, scooters are Vietnamese legs.
Walking back -about an hour either way-hawkers sell street food in bays high above the water where fishing boats work, watching waves and islands of coconut groves sway in the wind below me-I had time to reflect on North versus South Vietnam.
Hanoi has a hard edge to it compared to the soft feel of Saigon. Here everyone is striving to make a better living, to succeed at whatever cost. Tradition is stronger, the history is deeper, this is Vietnam in the raw. There is a deep ambivalence towards Saigon but also a sense that that is the future and that equals wealth.
This town also has a gentle side though; the children in the parks who want to buy me sweets, the fantastic family of my new found friends, the warmth and genuine wish to please.
This afternoon I went again to the Temple of Literature. I had been taken their by Hank’s friends during the height of the Tet festival when the sheer mass of people had been too distracting for me to appreciate the history of this first university of Vietnam, dating back to 1070.
Built by the Ly Dynasty to honour the Chinese philosopher Confucius, it was a centre of learning for centuries. Today a Temple to those ancient learned professors it is the most auspicious place to pray for good luck and examination success. Children are brought here by their parents from an early age; students pray continually here.
It is a stunning complex; I loved the tortoise stele, rows of stone turtles inscribed with details of long ago Philosophers. To touch their heads is lucky, but they have been so worn down over centuries alas now it is forbidden to touch them; although in true Vietnamese style, many ignore the rules and do anyway!
Sitting in a quiet inner complex listening to traditional music I was continually approached by young people wanting to speak English. Going to England-or even Saigon-is a major ambition as it guarantees a good job here so any English face is a magnet.
Walking back I found I now recognise landmarks despite the heavy traffic-see picture of the impatient lanes of motorbikes racing around the train, no level crossing here-just before the train a rusty grid is drawn across the road, and it’s drawn back before the train is out of sight…no one cares!
The Old Quarter where I am based is a grid of artisan lanes. Originally where the crafts were concentrated in the 13th century, still each street has a theme, the gorgeous (and pricey) silk road, the bright, cheap and gaudy paper lantern lane (yes, that’s my address!), the sweet laden Hang Buom Street (my personal favourite, the street urchins now wave as they know my face), the memorial street lined with marble headstones, this area of Hanoi is a tourist hotspot but also deeply traditional, families live where they work in the tunnel houses and alleys around me. I’m getting to know the ebb and flow of their lives as I am finally beginning to ‘see’ Hanoi.
Only a few walkers brave the distance, me being one of them. I don’t like to be beaten.
 | |
| Long Bien Bridge |
 |
| View from Long Bien Bridge |
 |
| Green Energy? Charging phones on a tree |
Hanoi has a hard edge to it compared to the soft feel of Saigon. Here everyone is striving to make a better living, to succeed at whatever cost. Tradition is stronger, the history is deeper, this is Vietnam in the raw. There is a deep ambivalence towards Saigon but also a sense that that is the future and that equals wealth.
This town also has a gentle side though; the children in the parks who want to buy me sweets, the fantastic family of my new found friends, the warmth and genuine wish to please.
This afternoon I went again to the Temple of Literature. I had been taken their by Hank’s friends during the height of the Tet festival when the sheer mass of people had been too distracting for me to appreciate the history of this first university of Vietnam, dating back to 1070.
Built by the Ly Dynasty to honour the Chinese philosopher Confucius, it was a centre of learning for centuries. Today a Temple to those ancient learned professors it is the most auspicious place to pray for good luck and examination success. Children are brought here by their parents from an early age; students pray continually here.
It is a stunning complex; I loved the tortoise stele, rows of stone turtles inscribed with details of long ago Philosophers. To touch their heads is lucky, but they have been so worn down over centuries alas now it is forbidden to touch them; although in true Vietnamese style, many ignore the rules and do anyway!
Sitting in a quiet inner complex listening to traditional music I was continually approached by young people wanting to speak English. Going to England-or even Saigon-is a major ambition as it guarantees a good job here so any English face is a magnet.
Walking back I found I now recognise landmarks despite the heavy traffic-see picture of the impatient lanes of motorbikes racing around the train, no level crossing here-just before the train a rusty grid is drawn across the road, and it’s drawn back before the train is out of sight…no one cares!
 |
| Traffic waiting for train to pass |
No comments:
Post a Comment