SE Asia 2014 Day 10

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Breakfast at our Hanoi hotel in their Japanese restaurant. They have two options: a bento box with shrimp tempura, a fried egg, miso soup and some other stuff; and ramen noodles. We select the bento box. It's good. Coffee is tremendously strong and hot.

Today will be a city tour of Hanoi, the capital of Vietnam. It is a very busy city of 8 million, smaller than Saigon, but condensed in a much smaller area. The result is that traffic is even denser and crazier than in Saigon. The buildings are similar: ancient and modern constructions, hovels and palaces, pushed right against and on top of each other. The French influence is especially obvious, with many beautiful colonial-era buildings, almost always painted yellow.

The weather is a wonderful change for us: about 24°C, sunny and not too humid. Kien tells us that winter is just beginning and Hanoi residents are starting to find it cold. Ha!

Our first stop of the day is the Ho Chi Minh memorial. The gospel according to Kien goes something like this. "Ho Chi Minh wanted freedom for his people from the French. He learned lessons from previous failed uprisings. He travelled the world for 30 years to better understand the people of the world. Along the way, he found the answer he had been looking for in Marxist-Leninism. He returned to Vietnam and led a successful revolt against the French, and established a communist state in North Vietnam. The government of South Vietnam was an American puppet. When Ho Chi Minh tried to bring the rest of the Vietnamese people into the new communist utopia, the Americans attacked. Ho never wavered and, despite terrible loses, he led his people to ultimate victory over the Americans, although (like Moses), he died before seeing his vision succeed. He is revered as the father of modern Vietnam. He was a simple man who eschewed the trappings of power." Of course, there is some truth in this story and other parts that are debatable. One of our party remarks to me that Ho died at the right time, before he could become corrupted by power. However, there is no doubt that he was a remarkable man.

The central building of the memorial is a huge stone edifice intended to resemble a lotus flower. IMHO it's a very Stalinist lotus blossom. Inside lies the embalmed body of Ho Chi Minh, which reputedly thousands of people file past every day to pay their respects. However, viewing is closed today as the body is undergoing regular "maintenance." Kien tells us that Ho explicitly stated he wanted to be cremated and his ashes spread all over a reunited Vietnam, but the communist party overruled his wishes.

Security is tight at the Ho Chi Minh Memorial. We and our belongings pass through x-ray scanners. We stroll through meticulously maintained gardens, with many extremely tall trees reaching for the sky. Kien points out a couple of examples of the "killer tree," which winds its trunks around an unwilling host tree and ultimately strangles and kills it. We also see a number of majestic buddha trees, which we have seen before. Kien explains that the name comes from the curious little protrusions that grow up from the roots, which somewhere in the distant past reminded someone of tiny buddhas. There is a beautiful artificial lake in the centre of the grounds, with narrow canals winding through the gardens and offering the opportunity for some small bridges.

Within the estate, the buildings and belongings associated with Ho have been carefully preserved. We see his automobiles and the simple stilt house where he worked and made strategic decisions.

Our next stop is West Lake (Ho Tay). This is a huge freshwater lake within the city of Hanoi that was formed when the Red River that flows through the city changed its course. Standing on its shore is the Tran Quoc pagoda, the city's oldest pagoda, originally built in the 6th century but remodeled and moved several times since then.

We jump onto electric trams and enjoy a complete clockwise circumnavigation of West Lake. Sometimes we are on main streets and sometimes small alleyways. The traffic is up close and personal. I amuse myself by taking pictures of the passing motorcycles and bicycles at ground level. Many of them are dressed in winter jackets, even though for us it's just a summer's day. Parts of the lake are divided into large lotus farms. There are a number of intriguing buildings around the lake, many on stilts.

Having completed the round trip, the trams transport us to lunch. Kien says that the restaurant, Quan An Ngon, is considered one of the best in the city. And it's very good, although we are not always sure what we're eating because the menu is not written out (as it is usually) and the staff speak minimal English. One of our party has a tremendously hard time ordering coconut juice because the server thinks she's asking for coca cola and keeps trying various types.

Our first stop after lunch is a lacquerware factory and shop. We've seen this kind of product before in China but it is stunningly beautiful. We get the chance to see the artists at work. It's fascinating how they shape mother of pearl and egg shell pieces and incorporate it into the image.

We next visit the Vietnamese Museum of Ethnology. Like most southeast Asian nations, Vietnam has many different ethnic groups living within its borders: 54, to be exact. We first tour the open-air exhibits behind the main building, where the homes and tools of everyday life of several different ethnic groups have been painstakingly recreated. Kien challenges us to a log-walking competition. This is a game of one tribal group that features a log suspended in the air, tied tight at one end but tied loose with a rope on the other. No one gets to the end, but Kien is definitely better than any of us. We visit each of the homes in turn and learn something about their everyday lives. Lots of laughs generated by a burial house that features wooden figures copulating all along the roof line.

We have a brief time to explore the inside exhibits, where tools, costumes, musical instruments, and other household items have been collected and documented.

As we gather for departure, a group of graduating students are posing for pictures on the museum steps. The boys are all dressed in black suits, and the girls in traditional Vietnamese Ao Dai dress. They are so young and beautiful. This episode reminds me how young the population of this country seems in comparison to our own aging population. There is an energy and vibrancy about Vietnam that is at least partially linked to its evident youthfulness.

It is now early evening. Kien leads us on a walking tour through the Hanoi old quarter. It's basically absolute chaos. Motorcycles and other vehicles push their way down streets already crammed with pedestrians. The sidewalks are filled with people cooking, eating and just hanging out. Dogs and the occasional chicken scramble by. The air is filled with the sound of people talking and yelling, the cries of children, the calls of various animals, the incessant hooting of vehicle horns. Pungent aromas, both good and bad, assault our noses. It's hard to imagine how people live like this, but for many, many people, this is just daily life.

As we rush by the various shops, whenever there is a fruit stand, Violet is on alert for red dragon fruit. The problem is that, as far as we know, it looks exactly the same from the outside (red skin); only the fruit inside is red instead of white. No luck.

One interesting little anecdote is that I and a couple of other guys in the group notice that men siting on sidewalks have tried to pull at our shoe laces as we pass. The mystery is solved when further along another guy tries to grab my arm and point to my shoe. It's a scam; while the helpful local helps me tie my shoe, his confederate will pick my pocket. Luckily I'm no spring chicken and I'm pretty much pick-pocket-proof.

We survive our close encounter with urban Vietnamese life and arrive safely at a tiny coffee shop on a small but busy street. The proprietor is in fact Kien. Our group just barely fits inside as we perch on the small plastic chairs. We order up a variety of coffee-based beverages, most commonly what Kien calls "white coffee," which is a layered iced coffee. Kien's beautiful wife and 2-year-old daughter put in an appearance. They must be happy to have Kien home for the next couple of nights.

We've tarried a bit too long at the coffee house and so have to rush on foot to our next destination. We plunge once more into the heady mix of old Hanoi nightlife and make our way to the beautiful Thang Long Theatre for a traditional water puppet show. We scurry into our seats just as the house lights are dimming.

The stage consists of a rectangular pool of water with a curtained backdrop, flanked on each side by a raised platform for the musicians and singers. The band starts to play and sing, and wooden puppets emerge from behind the backdrop to talk, sing and perform In the pool. It takes us a while to understand what is going on, but it soon becomes clear that the puppets are being controlled by sticks manipulated by a group of puppeteers behind the curtain. The "performers" include farmers and children, dragons, swans and fish, all of whom splash around in the water in time to the expertly executed music. It sounds weird, but it's very entertaining, and goes on just long enough to maintain your interest. At the end of the show, the puppeteers emerge from behind the curtain to receive their well-deserved applause.

Back on the street, we make our way to a restaurant for supper. We take up the entire second floor and have a great view of the streets below. I notice a table of young people using rock, paper, scissors as a drinking game.

A final stroll brings us to a street large enough for our bus to meet us. We are ferried back to the hotel. Vi and I spend some time putting away the laundry before bed.

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