Cycling Debutante

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Ethnography has long been the written form of choice for Sociologists, and so I was excited to learn that the Vietnam Museum of Ethnology was located in Hanoi. My penchant for nerdiness and adventure inspired me to begin my Bicycle Tour of Vietnam by renting a rickety bike and navigating my way to the museum. How tough could 7km be, even if the streets DID seem daunting as a pedestrian. Surely it would be easier to be among the dodgers than the dodged.

The trip there took me a little over 2 hours. As it turns out, this tourist destination is more likely to be frequented by bus-boarding tour groups than Henry the Navigator types on bicycles, and marked very well on the map. At any rate, the museum was lovely, and I particularly enjoyed chatting with two local girls who were responsible for tending fires in some of the mock houses from the open-air exhibit. I also enjoyed overhearing other tourists conversations. One thoughtful American paused to observe a model of a straw hut on stilts that is only accessible by climbing a long pole, and remarked, "Oh Dear. How do you think they keep the animals out?" I'm sure if she'd glanced outside to see the life-size replica of it in the garden, she would have realized that a pig or chicken would have to shimmy up a pole 2.5 meters long!

Eventhough I was thoroughly enjoying my visit, I forced myself to leave before reaching the mud hut exhibit. I reasoned that bicycling in the dark could be a terrifying and dangerous experience, and best to be avoided by leaving at dusk. My suspicions were dead on. As I fought my way back into the city limits, I realized I was pedalling AGAINST RUSH HOUR TRAFFICK. The density of vehicles on my side of the road was thinning out with every block. Darkness was descending, and adrenaline rocked my being. As I pushed off at one corner to cross the street, I was strucken down suddenly by a motor-bike. As I looked up from the pavement, I saw three boys on one moto look back over their shoulders, revv up once, and take off. I collected myself hurriedly and pedalled with determination.

The second time I collided with a motorbike, I held my own and didn't fall off, but was privvy to many Vietnamese orations. By the time I made it to Hang Bac Street and dumped the bicycle at the rental shop, I was as internally tumultuous as an inland hurricane. I decided to run home, but wisely chose to walk while crossing streets. It is important that your speed be properly gauged when among those being dodged.

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