city haze
I do not believe that I have seen clear blue skies once since setting foot in Hà Nội, or perhaps I have not been looking up enough. Earlier in the week, I did happen to see the outline of the rising red sun battling for survival through the layer of grey I have come to know as the sky. As with many developing cities participating in the industrial race to further their economic gains, the city is in a constant state of road construction, congested traffic, and noise pollution. The road construction, which seems to be moving along at a considerably slow pace, invokes much dust into the air which itches eyes and throats when on motorbike. The congested traffic of thousands of motorbikes spewing unchecked amounts of smog are an eyesore. Drivers also tend to honk their horns at the most unnecessary of times.
The upside of all this pollution is that one is able to focus on the finer qualities of life–food. Unfortunately, the food in the city is not all that good to begin with. The only unique northern Vietnamese dish which I have come to enjoy is Chả Cá Lã Vọng. Other than that, all other standard dishes sold here are usually mediocre.
Our study program is scheduled to begin a week-long excursion to the South on Friday (if that tropical storm succeeds in switching paths closer to China). I have not been this excited for awhile.
All chicken-eating enthusiasts should be excited to know that another KFC has opened up in the city on Bà Triêu. I actually went to eat dinner there with Kara, Hac, and Jacob on its grand opening night. The chicken could had been even more delicious had it stayed more stationary while alive. After eating this meal of fried chicken thighs with fries and a coke, I washed my hands at the handwash sink while my tray was politely cleared from the table by the employees.
Last night, I applied for a summer internship with the US State Department in either the Ivory Coast or Austria. I hope I get one of the two.
so this is sapa
It seems that the poverty situation of Sapa is steadily improving due to the growing tourism industry, which widely caters to Westerners. However, the culture is quickly changing into something completely new.
A few days after the Sapa trip, I was informed during a guest lecture that the role of women in this society has greatly changed over the course of a few years’ time. No longer married at the age of fourteen, many women of the Hmong ethnic minority now work outside the home typically serving as tour guides. Being native to the region, they are better able to provide comprehensive descriptions of this amazing landscape, which serves as home to many of Vietnam’s better-known ethnic minority populations–Thai, Tay, Zhao, and Hmong–than their Kinh (standard fare Vietnamese) counterparts. Interestingly, the women in these areas speak better English than Vietnamese.
The question I am struggling with is whether or not tourism is beneficial to the lives of the ethnic minorities living in Sapa. There are both positives and negatives to consider. This will take some time.
Below are some pictures which may be better suited to describe what my words cannot.
all my grey skies blue
I have just returned from a forty-one hour stint in Kuala Lumpur. The underlying purpose of this trip was to obtain my Vietnam student visa from the embassy there–shopping, food, and site-seeing were of course the extra bonuses. Kuala Lumpur was a complete change of pace from Ha Noi; the city’s level of visible economic development more closely resembles a blend between Singapore and Bangkok with Islamic influences. Hac and I arrived in the city in the early hours of Monday morning. Upon exiting the airport, we were actually excited to see an adjacent McDonald’s. My midnight snack: a strange concoction called the Country Chicken Burger, which frankly was mediocre.
While in KL, we stayed at the Radius International Hotel. Our accommodating structure was a behemoth in relation to the nearby Arab town, where local street vendors had set up daytime shop to sell food and drink items in celebration of Ramadan. After my midnight snack on arrival night, we took an airport taxi into the city. The driver, a friendly fellow named Amir who also lives in the vehicle which is his source of employment, discussed with us the joys of Chinese prostitutes on the hour-long ride into town. It is the case that the sex industry is illegal, but is referred to causally in conversation. In fact, one taxi driver today, who I did not catch the name of, explained that his favorite prostitutes were Malays. He also explained that mid-range and upper-range prostitutes were tested weekly for STD’s, and warned against visiting the prostitutes on the lower-range: Indonesian and Taiwanese women. It is a sad situation that sex trafficking and prostitution is becoming so common in Southeast Asia.
On the first morning, I awoke early to go visit the infamous Petronas towers. Being Monday, the towers’ connecting sky-bridge was not open to the public. After an hour’s wait on the second day’s morning, I was finally on that very sky-bridge. The views were still amazing despite the thick haze which clouds the city’s air. This smoke, according to one resident, comes around once a year when Indonesia sets its forests ablaze as an inexpensive means of clearing land for agriculture. The Pacific trade winds, as I will refer to them, carries this pollution north into Malaysia where it stagnates and pollutes the air. Not only does this smog cloud one’s view of the city, it also blessed me with eye irritation and an itchy throat. The first day continued with the Vietnam embassy, a few hours of consumerism in KL’s many shopping plazas, some delicious siew pau, a lunch of roast duck over rice, a snack at Fatman Steamboat, and concluded with a visit to Chinatown’s night market.
The next landmark we visited on the second day after Petronas was Menera, KL’s telecommunications tower which provides a three hundred sixty degree overlook of the hazy city. Though forewarned by the ticketing personnel that it was in fact smoggy, Hac and I opted to pay the entrance fee to board the elevator to the observation deck anyway. In a way, this was to make up for the failure to go up in the CN tower the summer prior to the recent. Despite the greyness of it all, I am glad that I am able to say that I did go up the Menera, if ever asked.
Before departing for the airport, we decided to go to Chinatown one more time to search for dim-sum. Unfortunately after locating a restaurant by the name of Ho Yook…, we found ourselves dim-sum-less as the proprietor of the place stated that these delicacies were breakfast foods and we had missed it. However, we had the rare opportunity to savor two types of leftover dim-sum, which tasted exactly as it sounds. Lunch before departure was fried pan noodles with beef, along with some more siew pau for the road.
the human engine
Hatred. I usually consider this emotion to be a waste of time, but alas it lingers within thoughts and is reflected in action. For these unintentional actions, I apologize to those unjustly affected by my hatred not only today, but also over the course of time past. The reason for my daily disdain grows and will probably continue to. However, by little measure will this have much of an impact on my abroad experience. Perhaps by the time it is to part ways, amends will take place. Better to understand than to make war eh?
Digressing from the initial topic, I would like to make mention of a friend here in Ha Noi who got the short end of the stick from sketchy business deals which caused her to lose a substantial amount of capital. The system works differently here–verbal agreements rather than contracts, payment after rather than before services. Working this system, her business partners screwed her out of her investment it seems. My sympathy goes out to her. My advice: to never give up, and to rebuild and relearn when needed.
On a lighter note, one of my language teachers contributed the idea that the flavor of foods improves as one heads southward. This might true in my case, as I am more accustomed to the cuisine of South Viet Nam. Mono-sodium glutamate can only take you so far.
the real việt nam, or another one rather
Today I was exposed to another side of Viet Nam most tourists may not get the opportunity to see. It was one of simplicity, yet at the same time guilty poverty. After returning from Cu Lao Chàm this afternoon, I paid a visit to Chú Tâm the Cannibal. Two days earlier, I had placed an order at his family’s tailoring shop for a custom-made suit which included vest, trousers, dress shirt, and two ties which he threw in at no extra cost. Of course I had realized this was all a ploy from the beginning, but I just went with the flow. It was today that he took me to two Buddhist temples, a restaurant serving a Hội An specialty called Bê Thui, and a beer garden where I met a woman named Dung with her own story.
The Cannibal has an interesting bittersweet history—he is a man of post-seventy in age with one true love. In the late 1960s, he met his one true love while in his thirties. However, this woman was taken away from him for reasons I did not truly comprehend due to my lack of Vietnamese vocabulary and the central accent. The most which I can recall now is take she was a casualty of the war many years ago. Soon afterward, he was conscripted into military service in Saigon for three years. While in the service, he rose to a high enough rank to command two thousand troops under his wing. During this time, he boasted that he had over fifty women in his company. However throughout our beer drinking escapade, he would always repeatedly mention that there existed only one woman which he ever truly loved.
After his three-year mandatory service, he became an entrepreneur and eventually opened up a total of twelve jewelry stores over time. However, when that fateful day in 1975 passed, he lost his wealth and had to start anew. Soon thereafter, he studied medicine in order to become a doctor. This occupation lasted for almost twenty years until he decided to retire in Hội An with the family he had started with another woman which he ultimately did not wed. After this retirement, he opened a tailoring business and eventually gained enough capital through the tourism industry to open a custom shoe store and an imported sewing machine merchant for Hội An’s many sweat shops. He currently resides in Hội An with his partner, his children, and grandchildren. His daughter is likely to be a heroin consumer, if not addict.
The beer garden which I went to with the Cannibal was called Thuấn. Fruit trees and other plant matter lined the perimeter. It was here that I met Dung—a woman of twenty nine years which introduced herself as twenty five. Dung works there as a bar maid and according to my host for the day, she only earns the meager sum of one US dollar per day. I quickly figured out that this was the classic sob story told to get some money out of a Việt Kieu, but either way I sympathized and coughed up 10000 đong. Dung is married, and has a child aged eight living at home with her deadbeat abusive husband who beats her. Over the span of her career, she has had many lovers which is greatly reflected in the gold watch, gold bracelets, and wrinkly pearl necklace which she wears to work. She does not much seem to enjoy her line of work. Who would? Coincidentally, when I ask for the business card to the establishment, she scribbles her number on the back. I will never call her. I realize that as an overseas Vietnamese I cannot help everyone here.
At this point, I should probably explain the cannibal bit I attached to his name. This morning I met him for breakfast and he cracked a Vietnamese metaphorical joke which I did not catch onto until well after the fact (a few hours later in fact). He asked me if I have ever eaten human meat—to which I replied no. He continued by stating that the meat of young girls was best. There is the joke. Laugh now if you will.
centralized rain
Beginning from the previous Friday onwards until some time after into the next week is our class trip to Central Viet Nam. Boarding the train around eleven at night was a divergence from the usual travel via bus. I shared the sleeper cabin that night with Brian, Danielle, Michael, and two Vietnamese women on their way to Vinh and Hue. After a good twelve hours or so, we were in Hue–the city where I had been previously in July.
We arrived here on a cloudy morning. The rain falls in intervals and the streets become flooded due to poor drainage. After check-in at Bamboo Hotel, we were treated to a royal lunch consisting of banh it, banh khoai, and others that I will post pictures of at a later time. Afterwards we visited the Citadel (Dai Noi). I have been there previously on my last visit. Not much has changed besides the noticeable fact that reconstruction of this ancient site from the 19th century is moving along smoothly.
Before nightfall hit, the rain started as we stopped by Thu on Wheels to say hello to the owner. A few hours down the road was the traditional Hue music performance aboard a boat on the Perfume River. I think I would like to purchase a traditional Vietnamese instrument or two and ship them back to the states before I leave here. The night concluded with a dinner with Hac and Ngoc at Nha Hang Ong Tao, some time at Why Not Bar, and watching the film I Am a Sex Addict with Nguyet, Kara, and Hac.
The rain continues to fall today. It almost gives time a slower pace. I enjoy it. Since the weather did not permit the boats to run, our collective traveled by van. Thus far, we have been to two tombs and another Van Mieu. In an hour, we will visit the last two.
a lesson in history
Awoken early today around eleven am by Ha Linh–she had finished work early and had nothing to do before our meeting to visit the Vietnam Museum of Ethnology (Bảo tàng Dân tộc học Việt Nam). We had breakfast or perhaps it was brunch before meeting up Hạc and his tutor Quyen to go to the museum together.
Along with a look into the lives of Việt Nam’s many minority groups, there was a feature exhibit on the Bao Cấp/Subsidy System era of Việt Nam from 1975 to 1986. During this time, the country existed on a system of redeemable coupons based on citizen rank to obtain living essentials such as rice, meat, clothing, etc. Speaking to Ha Linh on the period, she recalled that she had it better than most during the time since her father was a musician (flute) whose services were required by the government. She explained that because of this, they were able to obtain food easier than others–often times, commoners would have to wait in line all day starting from midnight to receive their food rations. At times, the food supply would run out and those who had been waiting all day would go home empty-handed. Also regarding the food supply, the exhibit noted that rice would often times be moldy or smelly when it was distributed to commoners. Thus, their dreams were generally more limited to just obtaining a rice stipend that did not smell.
These were hard times in Việt Nam’s post-war existence, in which black markets and other operations would appear. Recalling further memories, Ha Linh said that her mother learned how to knit during this era in order to make clothing to sell in order to get other supplies (almost a system of bartering). Likewise, because of this era of hardships, her only manufactured toy was a doll which she was only allowed to play with every two weeks when she was on her best behavior as another could not be afforded to replace it.
Life was different then. The exhibit states that the future of Việt Nam is moving towards a brighter one now.
the path of least resistance
I’m a bit grimy right now–haven’t had a proper shower in about three days or so. This weekend was our class trip to Hồ Ba Bể, an expansive lake in the Bắc Kạn province. The trip was amazing complete with morning trips to the ethnic markets, daytime treks through rural areas and rice fields, home-stays with local families, and jumping off thirty foot rocky ledges into the water among other things.
I finished reading a great book earlier today on the ride back; perhaps you have heard of Andrew Xuan Pham’s Catfish and Mandala. I would recommend this book to Vietnamese and non-Vietnamese alike. During the course of the many hours I spent finishing the work, I realized that there were quite a few parallels between the author’s story and my own which I am currently in the process of forging. I will not describe them here as I deem it unnecessary to do so. However, this book got me thinking about the future–my future to be exact.
It does not matter what the ethnicity of my future wife will be. However, I have the feeling that this so-called culture that I at times try to grasp is ever-changing with the different forms of existence that I encounter daily. Thus, I begin to wonder what kind of cultural environment my children will grow up in. I have not firmly decided where I will make my home in the years to come, but I hope that I will be able to share this country with future generations. For the most part, I have come to understand that the majority of local Vietnamese residents feel that this country is poor. In fact, nine out of ten of my usual conversations with the locals eventually reaches a point where Việt Nam’s poverty is mentioned. Habitually, I would reply to the speaker that wealth does not matter and that I enjoy the country nevertheless. But who am I to speak of these matters when I have never experienced such hardships myself? In the eyes of the local populations, I have the means of obtaining a better life than they. Their struggles are vastly different than mine. In a sense, I would like to be able to help these people who share a common land with my ancestors. Yet at the same time, I feel that I have a duty to educate and change the landscape of the United States towards that ideal goal called equality. I believe this is why I cannot yet decide on what future line of work I would really like to do. Perhaps something that spans domestic and international at the same time?
Just need more time to dwell on these thoughts, that’s all.
the dragon’s descent
Việt Nam is truely a beautiful country–from Dọc Let to Hạ Long, the landscape never ceases to astonish. Our group guided tour this weekend was a much needed departure from the routine of attending classes. Thanks to the National Holiday which celebrates the independence of the country, our trip to Hạ Long Bay and Cat Ba Island lasted for three days and two nights.
The first day began on an early Saturday morning when the tourist van came to collect us from A2 at 0630. Still half asleep from the previous night’s snake dinner at Lệ Mật village, we boarded the van which took us to the Việt Nam Open Tour office. The funny thing here is that copyright infringements carry little penalty since we purchased our tickets from a Sinh Café knockoff for under half of the real one’s price. One would think that these infringements would start to matter more to the government as they are attempting entry into the WTO. After an hour’s wait and a breakfast of Bun Rieu, a three hour bus ride ensued towards Hạ Long with a stop over in Hai Duong for about 15 minutes. We had a lackluster lunch aboard our ocean cruiser before leaving the docks towards the bay.
Our first day in Hạ Long included a visit to a cave on one of the islands, swimming on an island, and sea kayaking. Sea kayaking was damn awesome–Michael did slip on some rocky steps onto his head, but nothing too serious. That night I slept on the top deck under the stars while docked in the center of the bay.
On the second day I awoke to a brilliant sunrise, followed by a morning swim off the side of the vessel. After a breakfast better than any of the other day’s pre-paid meals, our next stop would be Cat Ba Island. Some people tend to operate on receiving monetary compensation here rather than the kindness of their hearts. Such an instance was when two European tourists not on the same tour wanted to be dropped off in the center of the island. After an argument which lasted close to twenty minutes, the couple succumbed to the extra fees the driver wanted. This is of course a vast generalization to make, since these are only the actions of a minority. After everything was settled, the next part of our trip consisted of an unexpected three hour trek through the national park of Cat Ba Island. Not being experienced in forest trekking, I scraped my leg on a rock. That was remedied by one of the tour guides who found some forest herbs to patch it up. Likewise, some local tourists shared their water supply with us. Afterwards, we checked into our hotel and had some lunch before departing for nearby Monkey Island. With the ocean waters warm and the sun shining down, there were a scarce amount of monkeys sitting on tree limbs eating fruits and crackers.
The third day started with an early checkout, a drive back to the harbor, and enjoying the scenery on the boat back. On the way back to Hạ Long City, our boat stopped by a floating village nestled in the rock formations jutting out of the green waters. There we boarded a small blue boat powered by a single engine to view the grottos of Hạ Long. The weekend concluded with lunch back on the mainland, and then a van ride back to Hà Nội. The driver, who had the classic fat gangster haircut, refused to take us directly to our abode by stating that the police did not allow such vehicles onto our street. I think he was probably just lazy and late for his mahjong appointment.
At night after dinner at R&R, Jacob, Danielle, Katie, Hac and I met up Eric and Mr. Lee at a place called My Way to say goodbye as Eric would be departing the next morning to HCMC for work.
in need of improvement
Second week here in Hà Nội, and I have realized how terrible my Vietnamese reading skills are. I have been placed in the beginner’s class to begin from the start along with some other students. I should reach a sufficient reading level within a month with the classes everyday and the weekly tutor meeting with Hà Linh.
Yesterday was the scheduled field trip to Văn Miếu (Temple of Literature). Brian guided us on a tour of the place, and provided some unique information on the history of the structure built to worship Confucius. The buildings and enclosed pond were magnificent. There was a traditional performance of Vietnamese music in the rear structure, which I briefly listened to. However, the adjacent enclosed park was closed to the public for the day–I will assume that repairs were underway there.
After the visit to Văn Miếu, we took some cabs over to Phố Hàng Bạc to purchase tickets for our trip to Ha Long Bay this weekend. Since Monday is a national holiday, I will be returning from there on Monday afternoon. Our plan is to spend three days and two nights there, with one night on a boat. This trip should include some sea kayaking, trekking on Cat Ba Island, and general lounging on the beaches.
With our bookings complete, Hac and I walked down the street to locate our grandmother’s old home. 1 Hàng Bạc has now been converted into a clothing store and is most likely unrecognizable from over fifty years prior. I cannot say that I felt much of any emotional reaction to seeing the place, as over fifty years ago I probably did not exist yet. The memories of the place are not my own, and thus it just feels like one scene out of many that I have no personal attachment to. I think I am starting to understand the greater difference between a visitor and a resident of a location. I suppose that after my four months here, I will feel something when I have to go back to the states. After snapping some photos of the place, the two of us wandered around the area until we located some food vendors selling an assortment of delicious fried foods.
This upcoming Friday, we will be consuming a snake dinner at Lệ Mật village on the outskirts of the city. I have never before eaten snake, and am really looking to that too in addition to the three day trip.
