January 5th: The long Long Bien bridge and the Temple of Literature.

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.

Long Bien Bridge

View from Long Bien Bridge

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.

Green Energy? Charging phones on a tree

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!

Traffic waiting for train to pass

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.

Hanoi Holidays

It is the fifth day of Tet (they count from New Years Eve) and the holidays continue. Officially shops should reopen today, but unofficially most have not, so the streets are still quiet, but now the debris from the parties for the Party last night are increasingly joined by discarded ‘cherry’ blossom trees (in reality they’re peach but the colour is the same!) as households begin to strip down the decorations and ready themselves for reality.  Recycling takes place here on a privatised basis-men and women push loaded bicycles competing to collect as much waste as possible-but the trees are obviously not saleable as they’re going into the council dust truck!

This morning my lovely friend Hank collected me on her scooter early to join her high school gang at their reunion breakfast at a street café. ..Although I couldn’t face the meat filled bowl of noodles. None of them can fully understand vegetarians-because I’ve simply had to eat fish or risk offending people, their choice for my bowl was ‘snail’ soup-I had to explain that this was meat to me, but I can actually see why it’s confusing-as they said, ducks swim on water so why don’t I eat that!

Much laughter, luckily, and off we set on the bikes, all plus me with helmets/facemask, zipping along the streets (if this is quiet, I’ m not sure about seeing busy!) until we reached the far shores of the massive West Lake, where we went on a pilgrimage to the holy Temple . This particular Temple is very auspicious, dedicated to the ancestors who founded the village on the lake, and many come to worship, so the streets leading into the complex were lined with stalls selling tokens, gifts for the gods.

We bought incense and joined the throng…the etiquette here is that everyone pushes to the front, giving more and asking for better luck than the next person-which seems somewhat unholy to my western eyes-so even standing still to pray is difficult!
I took my incense sticks, waved them three times to silently let the gods that be known my name, where I came from and what I wanted, sent up the prayer, and then waved three times to say goodbye to the gods-as instructed. This process starts at the main temple, and then has to be repeated at the left and then the right side altars if at the temple though can be done anywhere.

Exhausted from the madness and the smoke-the Government is keen to limit the traditional three incense sticks to one for environmental reasons, and I can see why!-we shuffled down the ‘food’ alley to enjoy the special food associated with this temple, shrimp cakes, fried shrimp bites , served with a bowl of papaya sauce and salad. Absolutely fabulous, if very fattening-not easy to eat with chopsticks either, but I’m getting it-having to bite the large lumps with my teeth still seems odd, but I can do the actual picking up bit!

Back into the city and down a local alley which the girls know well, and we adopt the local practice of just sitting. See pics of us sitting, enjoying jasmine tea. Followed by tamarind tea…followed by coconut jelly tea……….followed by a very odd dish which translates in English as ‘cowfish’, dried fish strips dipped into chilli. See pic. I loathed it, much to everyone’s amusement…so Thao produced from her bag some jam for me. This turned out to be lumps of pineapple jelly wrapped in clingfilm to make sweets, a brilliant idea which I shall do when back in Lewes, she’s given me a recipe.

Tea time

Cowfish Strips

Pineapple Jelly Sweets

The bathroom situation was awkward-the street stalls have one tucked away in the kitchen, but it only has a urinal, which everyone uses! So that is one to chalk up to experience, and at least now I know it’s acceptable for the ladies to use the gents here-gives a whole new meaning to unisex loos!!

Fuelled by sugar we strolled the tiny market streets of the old quarter, where I was able to browse without hassle guarded by my posse, who told me the correct ways and prices. Sitting on stalls at each stall we nosed through embroidery, paintings, shoes, handbags…and food. The more local shops are indicated only by a shelf holding a symbolic item-the carved cooked chicken in the picture I now know is to beckon in those looking to buy jars of meat for stock.  Hanc has got 4 jars to take back to England-our food tastes bland to her and I can understand why.

Shop Sign - take Stock

Yet More Fireworks….

Yet another day of Tet holiday festivities, this year the annual holiday period has coincided with the 84th anniversary of the founding of the Vietnam Democratic Republican Party, so banners waving with the party slogan ‘ 3/2/1930-3/2/2014 herald an evening of celebration.

Not realising the significance of the date, I set off this morning to make the most of what is traditionally the third and final full shutdown for Tet, before the city should begin to come back to life.  I’ve been lucky though, as despite many closures, when I went to the Mausoleum complex on spec yesterday, it was open; just chance as apparently it rarely is, so I now know, and today I wandered down to Ho Lao Prison and find that too was open, a happy result-or ‘good fortune’ as people here would say!

Originally an enormous complex with a varied history; from French colonists imprisoning Vietnamese political prisoners to its final days as the ‘Hanoi Hilton’ during the Vietnam War, when captured US pilots were held here.

Much of the site was bulldozed to create a ‘new town’ of high rise flats to help Hanoi’s housing crisis, but one wing has been kept as a historical landmark, with a temple and stunning war memorial with hundreds of names inscribed in gold lettering on black marble, glistening in the shade of the almond trees prisoners planted years ago.

Seeing the history recreated through Vietnamese eyes mirrored my experiences in Saigon, a disconcerting sensation of having been on the ‘wrong’ side although my childhood memories are more of the anti war sentiment which prevailed, certainly in my home, a memory the Vietnamese are happy to hear.

The patriotism of this country is loud and clear-tonight the brightly lit streets –see pics, one is xmas lights with a difference, the hammer and sickle symbol, and the other is the ‘Happy New Year’ displays-had another dimension, with the anniversary of Vietnam’s independence.

Happy New Year 2014 - Viet Nam Street Lights

Banners of ‘Uncle Ho’ beam down from tall buildings onto the populace and stage shows can be heard at full volume. I stopped to watch one , slipping quietly into a seat behind the rows of smartly dressed party officials and proud parents. Tonight more fireworks…….!

Uncle Ho

Stage show

January 2nd - a visit to 'Uncle Ho'

A day alone to be a tourist; off to Ho Chi Minh’s mausoleum and queue soberly with the many who wait in line daily to pay their respects. Surreal but surprisingly moving; this tiny embalmed body lying in state in the towering square column, guarded by four white clad motionless guards who stare solemnly ahead as thousands silently shuffle past.

The museum and complex surrounding the mausoleum took me all day to explore. Ho Chi Minh, or ‘Uncle Ho’, his preferred title, was an inspirational leader. I knew little if anything of his life before and was genuinely gripped by his commitment to the socialist cause and the fight to free Vietnam from fascist rule, to unite the country and improve the quality of life.

I have been here nearly three weeks, from the manic seething mass of Saigon to the rural beauty of tranquil Hoi An and now the historic capitol of Hanoi, yet have barely touched the surface of this complex country. On my way back tonight I stood to watch a street vendor wind solid sugar strands onto a lolly stick. Two young girls were watching me, keen to encourage me to taste the ‘candy’, but I had no small change so politely refused. Moments later they were back beside me having bought me one as a gift. Despite the fact that it tasted foul –like oil coated cold chewing gum-their genuine kindness and wish to please was a reflection of so much I have experienced over here.

Confucious and Confusion!

January 1st, New Year with new friends and new understandings.

This morning time to reflect on how talking to Hank and seeing her with her extended family has opened my eyes to Vietnamese society and culture.
First, she put me straight about the profuse devote nature that I see all around me here-it’s not so much religion, as superstition and a belief in good luck and good fortune if you pray at every opportunity for everything!
Apparently most Vietnamese will put no religion on documents, very few are actually Buddhists, most follow the teachings of Confucius, which is, as I understand it, essentially ancestor worship/a strong moral code, and is half science, half philosophy-or something like that (that’s the confusion in the heading!)

There is a difference between the temples-for heroes, generals and the like, and pagodas, which are essentially Buddhist, so that at least makes sense, although the dress code is the same for both (no knees, no shoulders out) and its hard to tell until the inner sanctum icon is revealed-and some seem to hedge their bets and have both Buddhist and ancestors to my eyes……..incense burning is to honour ancestors, food must be offered at the family home as well as temples, the incense must burn down to allow the spirit to eat first before the living can partake.

Another surprise is that despite the ever present communist flags it seems that politics here is as distant from the ordinary daily lives as it is in the west-the only difference is that there is no election for the president or the council-being in the party is not the norm, and can take many years to be accepted anyway.

There is, though, a true sense of pride in the country and its history-this is a new country in historic terms, and the legacy of Ho Chi Minh defines the ideology of the patriotism, if not the reality.

Ultimately the reality seems to me the economy, much as everywhere else in the world. There is no free education, no benefits, so getting a good education and then a good job is the only goal for young people here. The gap between the poor, especially in the rural areas, and the emerging middle classes  is massive, but even with a foot on the ladder, i.e. a town based life, is not the lifestyle we would have in the west.

Young people mainly live at home until they marry, when the girl will go to her in laws family home, even if they have a well paid job. The norm is much gendered-the women cook and clean as well as the childcare and the daily market shopping, as well as working, and the men never help.

Saigon is deemed more cosmopolitan than Hanoi; I sense a real confusion in the young here between wanting independence, especially the girls, and yet also a genuine love for tradition, family and the communal way of life.  I have had to justify the English love of family too-many believe we abandon our old people and find it hard to believe belonging together still exists without living together.

This afternoon Hank’s high school buddies arrived to escort me around the town.

Guides for the day

 Watching street life from the back of a scooter is great (see pic of fast food!) and together we joined the throngs in the Temple of Literature here, in the restored buildings of the original educational institute many centuries ago. Vietnamese come here to worship the venerable teachers, to pray for good results, to touch the turtle statues (the turtle is the symbol of wisdom) and especially at auspicious times such as the Tet holiday, as to be observed paying one’s respects is equally important here.

Fast Food

These two lovely kind young people made me see how much we do take our opportunities and way of life for granted in England, how little we value our way of life-no wonder Vietnamese people see tourists as rich; to live the way we do must equal wealth in their mind.

New Years Day; January 31st

This morning is eerily quiet. I wandered the quaint streets of the Old Town picking my way through the debris of streamers, firecrackers and good fortune wrappers. The only doors open are to temples or pagodas –(the pagodas are Buddhist places of worship, the temples are for heroes, kings, generals, etc-very confusing as to be honest I can’t tell from outside which is which)-and these were full to bursting with worshippers praying for good fortune for the new year. The signs everywhere banning firecrackers  obviously ignored given the noise last night, reminded me of Lewes on November 5th.

This afternoon my lovely friend Hanc appeared on her scooter, clutching a helmet, and took me under her wing! Hanc is a friend of a friend from the university, who hails from Hanoi but has studied at Sussex for five years, so speaks fluent English, and is home for Tet.

It’s impossible to describe how wonderful it feels to be with a ‘local’! We began by parading around the flower strewn avenues around the lake with everyone else-the sun is out and it is the equivalent of the Boxing Day stroll Vietnamese style.

Children in traditional clothes

After lunch at a street food stall where Hanc taught me once more to be proficient with chopsticks and enjoy a traditional pho sauce with rice balls –she persuaded the reluctant staff I really really didn’t want meat, it is just not done here to be vegetarian, no one understands it at all-we went into a very traditional ice cream parlour for sticky rice flavour lollies-delicious; like mini milks but ten times bigger, much harder, and very sweet, perfect for my palate.

Queue for Ice Cream - a Tet favourite

And then she invited me out to her family home an hour outside the city, where her grandparents live.  Her parents were already there, gathering with her aunts and uncles, nephews and niece (5 families from grandma and grandpa’s five children) for the Tet feast. During the week her parents live in Hanoi, unlike the other aunts and uncles who live still in the family town of Throng, and first we went there to don face masks and full covering for the scooter ride.

I now realise the alleys full of shutters are not, as I foolishly thought, garages, but homes. Hanc turned into the narrow passageway in the suburbs of Hanoi, and opened the metal grid, to reveal a door straight into her parent’s bedroom, opening onto another small bedroom, then a basic kitchen, a sink and wood fired stove. All in one long dark corridor.

In free time the families gather in the older generation’s houses away from the city, so the town houses are often just a base. The oldest generation is revered, as is old age, treated with the utmost respect, and her grandparents house was the traditional Vietnamese home.  The centrepiece is brightly lit like a temple, where the ancestors are worshipped and incense burnt for good luck, the garden full of bonsai and sculptures placed to ward off evil and protect the family. One side of the raised dais is the family table, where I was greeted with green tea and sweets, the usual etiquette to welcome an honoured guest.

Hanc’s grandparents spoke no English, neither did the many Aunts and Uncles who came in waves to join us, but Hanc translated fluently, making sure I ate enough to satisfy grandma –the more the better! Supper was served as usual here on a woven mat laid down the corridor below the dais; the men sit at one end, with rice wine, beer is normal. I declined the beer, and was offered coke, which I accepted, only to realise later that they had then gone out to buy this especially for me, bless them!

There were so many dishes, beef, pork, chicken, steamed rice meat balls, pickles, salad, beans of every description, and sugary sweet green bean paste doughnuts made in my honour, which luckily I love and did justice to! I was praised for my chopstick use, which I insisted on using as it gave me a chance to eat slowly as there was so much food I could barely move!!

Then came the lucky fruit. See pic of this sweet grapefruit, which is grown for Tet. It has an incredibly thick skin, you peel the outside and then again each segment, but it is worth the work.  Grandma insisted on giving me a bag of fruit and doughnuts to take back with me. I was even given an envelope with ‘lucky’ money in. I told them I would spend the money on a souvenir to remind me of this special evening, it moved me to tears so everyone was happy.

'Lucky' sweet Grapefruit

As we drove back to Hanoi under the stars with the wind whistling around my face, my arms wrapped tightly around Hanc, I could not believe my own good fortune. The family take a picture every New Years Day for their calendar and in 2014 it will have my face in too-I have been promised a copy which I shall treasure.

A very Happy New Year in Hanoi!

New Year’s Eve: Jan 30th

The streets of Hoi An were a ghost town as the airport shuttle bus pulled out of the town I’d grown to love and into the city of DaNang for my flight to Hanoi. The highway is deserted, as most families have left to go back to their relatives in the countryside. Everywhere is shuttered. The airport, a modern metropolis, has an air of anticipation, the Vietnamese travellers are loaded with gifts, dressed in their best clothes, smiling broadly and wishing me ‘good fortune’.

The flight was on time, a miracle, and flew low over the city and the spectacular ravine dividing DaNang from Hue.

DaNang and Hue

The gentlemen next to me spent the entire flight plucking his face with tweezers, it’s the culture here to have no facial hair, he obviously thought I was a monkey but was too polite to say!

Descending into Hanoi in the evening sunset  I was driven frantically through the darkening streets by a driver intent on getting home for Tet, the Lunar New Year festival which begins at midnight tonight at the start of the Year of the Horse 2014 with a massive firework display at the city lake.

Approach to Hanoi at sunset

The original hotel I booked was a disappointment, but the holiday mood had affected the staff, and, bless them, seeing me concern (the room was at street level, which worries me) they escorted me over the road to their sister hotel, a much more luxurious place, where I was soon happily settled in an enormous deluxe triple room all to myself, he he…there is even a bath though I have to shower first to clean myself before I can use it-a few minutes outside in Vietnam is enough to cover everything in dust.

Too exhausted to join the throng heading for the lake, I listened to the fireworks and watched the show live on my cable TV-just like New Year’s Eve at home!!