Tuesday, April 3, 2001

I awoke early on Tuesday morning to prepare for my flight to Hanoi. I took a taxi to the domestic terminal and checked in. The Boeing 767 took off about 25 minutes late, but arrived in Hanoi on time. The flight itself was pleasant and non-eventful. The weather in Hanoi was overcast with a very slight mist.

Upon arrival, I looked for my driver, who was assigned to pick me up and drive me to the Tong Dan Hotel in central Hanoi. And there, among the waiting throng of people, was a young man holding a placard with my name on it. Since I was the only American on the flight, he recognized me immediately. And since I knew my name when I saw it, I knew he was my escort.

The drive into Hanoi lasted about 40 minutes. The countryside was absolutely beautiful even though the weather was less than perfect. The driver sounded his horn about every 10 seconds all the way into town, beaconing other drivers to move to the right so we could pass. I expected to see some irritation on the part of the other drivers, but saw none. What appeared to me as rude overuse of the horn was simply the way people drive in Vietnam.

I checked into the Tong Dan Hotel and was shown my room, a rather large room away from the noisy street. The room had two large beds, satellite TV, and a refrigerator. For $17 a night, it was a pretty good deal.

I called Thu Trang and arranged to see her later in the afternoon. She had written to me many weeks earlier and told me about her friend Linh, a tour guide who wanted to meet me. She would pick me up at the hotel and take me to her house and have dinner with her parents. We would meet Linh later in the evening and attend a show at the Thang Long Water Puppet Theater. I took a quick shower and called several other friends and arranged to see them in the next few days.

Trang arrived at the hotel by taxi and I was very glad to meet her. She was even more beautiful than her picture. I could not believe how well she spoke English. She had almost no accent at all. She said she had been studying English since childhood, more than 9 years. We went directly to her house and she introduced me to her parents, her grandfather and her younger sister, Thu Ha. They were all very, very nice. Her parents spoke a little English, but her grandfather spoke none. Nevertheless, he made an effort to talk with me and make me feel welcome. He was a very charming person. Thu Ha was 16, very pretty and quite friendly. She spoke a moderate amount of English and tried very hard to practice her English with me. She was a joy to talk with, telling me all about the cute little cat of theirs and expressing her desire to become pen pals, too. Trang's mother prepared spring rolls and a delightful Vietnamese noodle soup. The entire family impressed me very much with their hospitality and genuine affection for their new friend. Concerned that we would be late meeting with Linh, Trang hurried me along as we said goodbye to her lovely family.

We travelled by taxi to pick up Linh. He was about 21 years old, very handsome and perfectly fluent in English. He was very friendly and I knew I had a new friend right away. We arrived at the Thang Long Water Puppet Theater a few minutes before show time. Located across the street from Hoan Kiem Lake in the city center, the theater was the only place in Hanoi where I ever saw a large bus. Usually the streets are filled with motorbikes, Xich Lo's and taxis. The buses were there to deliver scores of foreign tourists, mostly French. The puppet show itself was delightful, depicting many different aspects of Vietnamese life. The narration was conducted in Vietnamese, English and French. After the show, Trang wanted to visit her university English teacher to say goodbye before going abroad. Trang's teacher was a very gregarious person, just the kind of person who makes a terrific teacher. Trang told me that all of her students adored her. I shared their feelings after only a short visit.

Soon Trang was running out of time and needed to retreat to her home to prepare for the next day's journey. She and Linh dropped me off at the hotel, with a hug from Trang and a promise from Linh to escort me around Hanoi the next day. The hotel courtyard was very quiet as I crept into my room for a good night's sleep.

Wednesday, April 4, 2001

Concerned about my unwanted changes in flight itinerary, I asked the hotel receptionist if she could help with my air schedule to Hue. She called Vietnam Airlines while I waited and quickly reported to me that the flight to Hue on April 7 was fully booked in economy class. However there were seats available in Business Class for an additional $14 USD.
BUY IT...BUY IT...BUY IT !!!
She had just rescued me from a complete breakdown of my touring plans. I knew I had not scheduled enough time for Hue in the first place. Now, at least my original plans would not be compromised further. The airlines reissued the ticket and I paid the $14 with pleasure.

I met with Linh early in the morning and we took off on his motorbike in the light mist that hung over Hanoi. I stayed dry on the back of the motorbike, while Linh, acting as my umbrella, became slightly soaked in front. I was very impressed at the beauty and cleanliness of Hanoi. The streets were narrow for the most part and lined with trees on both sides, providing a modest shelter from the drizzle. Motorbikes were everywhere, but traffic was not nearly as heavy as Ho Chi Minh City. Only on the main thoroughfares did we see anything larger than a small taxi. Xich Los were all along the sides of the streets, waiting for tourists who might need rides. Everywhere we went on foot, the Xich Lo drivers would ask us, "Xich Lo?" I usually responded with a smile and a "No, thank you." They always smiled back.

The people were extremely friendly, seemingly harboring no resentment toward Americans for the war which ended 26 years earlier. Linh informed me that fifty percent of the population was born after the war. Add the fact that they won the war, and you have a recipe for forgiveness. It dawned on me that most Americans, especially our grumpy, old politicians, are still resentful of the fact that we Americans, with all our military might, could not defeat a tiny country full of barefoot peasants.

Linh took me to several pagodas and other archaeological sites, which were beautiful beyond description. The Temple of Literature was especially beautiful. This 1,000 year old temple was the center of learning in Vietnam for centuries. All of the great teachers in antiquity studied here.

We drove by the Opera House in the city center. This beautiful French Colonial building was along a wide avenue full of motorbikes and lined with coffee shops, my favorite of which was the Paris Deli.

Located in the center of a large complex of government buildings was the vast square surrounding the Mausoleum of Ho Chi Minh. The mausoleum itself was only open on Saturday and Sunday so we could not see the actual corpse of Ho Chi Minh on this Wednesday morning.

We proceeded to the Hoa Lo prison, a French colonial prison which the French used to detain and torture Vietnamese dissidents, and where the Vietnamese held American prisoners- of-war during the American War. The prison was a stark tribute to man's inhumanity to man. The cells were dark, and depressing and the guillotine in the courtyard stood as a reminder of the grim fate that awaited anyone who opposed the French.

West Lake is a very large lake at the north end of town. On the far side is an ancient temple surrounded by small outdoor cafes and souvenir shops. The light mist that hung over Hanoi all morning was enough to keep the tourists away. When Linh and I stopped there for lunch, we were the only customers in sight. We enjoyed a nice lunch and paid about $3 for the two of us.

Returning to central Hanoi, Linh took me to Hoan Kiem Lake, a beautiful little lake in the middle of the tourist district, and ringed by shade trees anda wide sidewalk. Young boys sold post cards, T-shirts and little green pith helmets reminiscent of the North Vietnamese Army. A small island was home to a pagoda which told the story of the Turtle who retreived the Sword from the lake. A huge mummified turtle is on display there.

We finished our tour and I returned to the hotel, thanking Linh for a most enjoyable day. After a shower, I called my friend Phong and arranged to meet after dinner. I had dinner in an open-air cafe around the corner and returned to the hotel to meet Phong. He and 3 friends arrived on motorbikes and we proceeded to the Flagon Coffee House on Lo Su Street. The young waiter there was one of the cutest boys I had ever seen. He was about 19 years old, but looked 16. We enjoyed coffee and sodas while I attempted to talk with Phong's friends, who spoke little English. They were very friendly and affectionate and very patient in their efforts to engage in conversation. We talked until about 10 p.m. when Phong had to go home. I asked him to drop me off at the lake 2 blocks away so I could check out the social activity for which Hoan Kiem Lake is noted.

Hoan Kiem Lake was allegedly a pick-up spot for almost anything you might want. I saw many girls, boys, drug dealers and pimps, but no police.. I walked around for a few minutes before deciding that this may not be a safe place for a tourist to be alone at night. I walked back to the hotel and went to bed.

Thursday, April 5, 2001

I spent most of Thursday in the commercial areas, shopping for souvenirs and checking out the multitude of cheap hotels in the area. The most interesting of these was the Thanh Binh Hotel on Hang Dao Street, right in the middle of the most popular area of Hanoi. It was no more than 8 feet wide and 5 stories tall. A narrow stairwell led to the upper floors, each consisting of one room on either side of the stairwell. The rooms were very clean and neat. I asked the manager, Hai, about the cost. He told me the rooms rented for $10 per night and pickup service from the airport was also $10. What a deal! I promised him that I would stay with him the next time I was in Hanoi.

There were hundreds of restaurants, shirt shops, and various souvenir shops all catering to a very busy tourist industry. Boys were selling post cards and T-shirts at every turn. I spent most of the afternoon with Dung, a new friend I had met only this morning. Late in the afternoon, I excused myself to retreat to my hotel to call several friends that I had yet to meet.

Lien agreed to meet me at the Paris Deli at 5:00 pm. She was more beautiful than her picture. I remember thinking that all of my friends were much more attractive in real-life than in their photos. She took me on a Xich Lo ride in the drizzle to an open-air cafe on Hung Bac street. The food was very delicious, but the portions were small. I realized that most restaurants served small portions, and the food was very light. I began ordering 2 dinners for myself every time I went out. I felt a little like a pig, but at least not a hungry pig.

Friday, April 6, 2001

Nguyen Viet Cuong arrived at 8:00 as scheduled and introduced me to his friend and classmate, also named Cuong. Pham Xuan Cuong was a very handsome boy with a broad smile and very friendly manner. I rode with Nguyen Cuong, again on the back of his motorbike, in the light drizzle that had been with us for 3 days now. Pham Cuong rode his own motorbike alongside us. We toured Hanoi trying to determine where Linh and I had visited previously so as not to duplicate the our route. Every time I looked back to make sure Pham Cuong was still there, he was smiling at me. I was sure he was having a good time. Both boys were eager to talk with me even though they were less than confident of their English-speaking ability. I found them easy to understand, even through their heavy Vietnamese accents. Since so many of my friends in San Diego are Vietnamese, I had alot of practice with accents. The time went so quickly that I was very sad to say good-bye to them. But I had several things to do this day and very little time to do it. I regretted not scheduling more time in Hanoi.

At 5:00 pm I met my pen pal Nga at the Opera House. She was accompanied by her friend Huyen. Both girls were adorable. We had ice cream together before saying good night. It seems that Vietnamese girls are expected to be home by dusk. I was again sad to say good-bye. I had come many thousands of miles to meet my pen pals, only to spend a very little time with them before saying good-bye.

Now I know...4 days in Hanoi is not enough.

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