The Streets of Hanoi

Thursday I wrote on the side of the rode and then chased a butterfly around the streets of Tay Ho.  It's the Western district, but even there I stood out.  Here's what I wrote:

I am camped out on the sidewalk, next to an electric pole that I mistook for a tree. The heat is palpable. Yesterday [Wednesday] I spent the day in the touristy area of Hanoi's Old Quarters, which is covered in shops, all selling an assortment of products more distinct than the next.  For around $50 USD I found birthday presents for four friends.  I escaped the heat with shopping, getting a tea in an air conditioned café whenever the sweat in my eyes made it a challenge to see.  It was beautiful, culturally new, touristy. I look forward to seeing more outside of this and finding more ways to adapt.

There is a clear distinction between those who grew up here and those visiting. Whether its restaurants with prices and meals only appealing to foreigners, or the fact....that I AM SITTING ON A SIDEWALK writing on the only Apple device that I've seen today. I stand out in America, it is not a surprise that I do here. So, in my inability to adapt, I admire. The slick balance of the Vietnamese people, whirling around on their motorbikes.  Their tolerance of THIS HEAT.  The reformed areas and how much effort clearly went into them compared to the thatched roofs of what they once were and some still are. I am grateful to feel safe as I wander around alone in a tank top (we could just stop there...) with my most financially valuable possession in my hands.

Being here I realize just how familiar I am with Western set-ups. I wanted to go write at an air conditioned café with wifi. I could find that, but would again feel guilt in the comfort. Instead I like my spot here. With ants following the pack as much as Starbucks goers, and motorbike-clad natives staring at me.  I don't get to assimilate, I am here to know what it is to stand alone not knowing the rules of someone else's game. I am grateful to have been let in at all, and will happily amuse in the meantime.

 

 

Coconut Coffee Chaos

Coconut coffee and the start to a beautiful day. There have been two spurts of storms this morning and now there is a warm breeze perpetuated by the whirlpool of motorbikes through the city.

It is strange. I am in a café, with architecture foreign to me. It has an unassuming entrance with spiraling stairs up to a lounge.  Paint is peeling, wallpaper sweating, frayed edges on the corners of the pillows in this lounge give a hint of the country I'm in, and yet the concept of this lounge seems very Western.  Bruno Mars plays from their speakers as I sit next to a luxurious fan.  I feel guilt in indulging in the familiar, but gratitude for the resolve as I peer out onto the tumultuous Hanoi Old Quarters. 

It reminds me of Chinatown in Los Angeles, or the garment district downtown.  Shops lined up shoulder to shoulder, with trinkets and knickknacks spilling from their awnings.  People are constantly in motion as others work patiently at the entrance to their shops. 

I feel like a tourist. I am a tourist. In France I could pretend to be French. Here I am definitely a minority. I don't mind standing out, I respect that I am in some else's home. I just wish I weren't as much of a cliché.  The cost here is very comfortable when converted to USD.  My fancy coffee comes out to $2 and I have a feeling that it is rather indulgent. I would be easy for me to shop lushly, and I almost feel guilt in not contributing to their economy when I so easily can.  That's not what I want, however.  I wish to discover the habits and lifestyle of a native. To wear a cloak of invisibility as I experience life in another's shoes. 

If I wanted luxury I would've booked a spa day instead of a plane ticket. 

I will attempt. In the meantime I sip my coconut coffee, a nectar of caffeine and bravery, and prepare to dive once again into waves this sea-ty.  (The pun was there, I had to take it)

 

 

 

 

Vietnam Night 1:

It took me just over 24 hours to get to the other side of the world, and if you stop imagining for a moment what it must feel like traveling for 24 hours and instead just look at that sentence again -it took me just over 24 hours to get to the other side of the world- that is absolutely awing.  Essentially I sacrificed a lazy day for the ability to adventure.  I already know it was worth it. 

Now I am guilty of writing this at 7:30am after having arrived last night; I have barely seen beyond my jet lag. And yet already so much is different. R. R Rather than exploiting what small non-new-world variances I've experiences, instead I'll just refer to the beauty of a new city at night.  There are little winding alleys that bustle like streets, just out of scope of light and sound as the rambunctious (but still polite compared to the U.S.) outdoor snackery/bar. There are language barriers and an easy inclination to bond with fellow foreigners.  I am fighting that while simultaneously feeling gratitude to be in another culture's world. 

My main take away from a day in limbo is the power of smiles. Being suspended in a metal tube in I the air for 16 hours with a stranger, nothing has proven so immediately disarming as a smile.  It unlocks a new side to them, and seems to well transcend language. I've brought with me a portable charger, a toilettree organizer, a wallet that stores my passport, boarding pass and multiple forms of currency -- and yet the most useful thing I have brought requires no protective case and can only be taken in spirit. 

I am excited to see what my first full day has in store.

Unedited photo from the plane because colors are just that beautiful.  

Good Morning Vietnam

Today I voyage to a new part of the world.

I am going on a vacation to Vietnam for two weeks.  I haven't left the country since I studied abroad five years ago; an experience that immediately shaped me into a seemingly new person.  It pruned the old me, and nourished the branches of myself I was most proud of.  I left feeling like I had a guest pass to other cultures.  Even this week, I met someone from Albania and was able to draw on my study abroad experience to connect with them.

I told them that when I was in Strasbourg, I heard the President of Albania speak at the Counself of Europe.  I recalled that his prestige isn't what I was most impressed by; instead it was his taste in rhetoric.  He chose to speak in English, rather than utilizing translators, so his message would be heard by the majority from his own voice.  This added credibility while demonstrating their country's desire to be an equal with the larger English-speaking ones, and the impact they would like to have.

I was able to recite this impression and connect my respect from this to the person I had just met.

Clearly, linguistics fascinate me.  To analyze them is to identify subtext and create a closer to connection to someone.  To care about them is to respect another person and their culture.  And I am terrified to travel to a country where I do not speak the language.  I don't know taboos to avoid, how to be respectful, how to say hello or ask for help.

In two weeks time I definitely will.  I am immersing myself in my fears, my yearnings, my wanderlust and my insatiable desire to learn.

This past week we all looked to the sky and stared in fascination at the sun and the moon.  We wish on stars and dream of inhabiting other planets.  

And yet there are universes in every individual, lightyears lengths of stories, galaxies of experiences we couldn't possibly imagine from the glimpses we've seen in media.  Even the nature possesses new worlds in their different ecosystems.

So as much as we gaze up at the sky with wonder and curiosity, I plan to bring the same awe to each new person I may meet. 

This trip will no doubt feed my love of language and learning other cultures.  I am excited to sprout new intellect and break down ignorance I didn't know I had.  I promise to write of my discoveries, and share the cultural spores that I collect.  We certainly need them to grow in this nation.