Censored in Hanoi

Well, it appears I'm in an authoritarian state after all. Blogger.com is blocked throughout Vietnam. After a bit of research, I've found that there are a handful of other sites that won't open here, either. This post is visible thanks to the tender offices of my friend Sharon. Take a bow, Sharon! [*]

Most of the time that you're here this feels like any other country. At street level, it's capitalism, full bore. But there are odd little reminders. Propaganda posters adorn public intersections and parks, and some of the tourist attractions doth protest too much.

Take yesterday at the Hoa Lo prison (aka the Hanoi Hilton to John McCain and friends). Most of the prison exhibits were about the French colonialists and the thousands of Vietnamese political prisoners they kept there under overcrowded conditions. A much smaller section was dedicated to the American prisoners kept there in the late 60s and early 70s. And of course that's appropriate; it was a French prison for decades before the first Yankee pilot showed up. But the exhibit was pure propaganda that seems out of place in the 21st century: photos of American prisoners strumming guitars, playing volleyball and giving amiable interviews over tea with the Vietnamese press. They made one critical mistake, though: the photo of the men standing in church pews shows them with their arms uniformly folded across their chests and frowning- clearly a pose no one ever strikes during a church service, making it quite obvious the picture was staged against the will of the American prisoners. Amy joked "even I know that's not how you act in church". The vast majority of the prison has been built over to make way for a modern hotel (strangely, the Hilton Corporation was not interested in the property). I wish I could send you more photos of the prison, but this was one of the places in Vietnam where photography is forbidden.

Hanoi itself is beautiful- it actually puts Bangkok to shame. The inhabitants throw their trash in the street, but it is picked up daily, and aside from this one issue, the city is clean- it certainly smells much better than Bangkok.

Here's a shot of Ho Hoan Kiem, one of the small lakes around which the city is built.


The "Lake of the returned Sword" is so named because legend has it that emperor Le Loi received a magic sword with which to defend his people from invasion by the Chinese. After the victory, a golden tortoise emerged from the lake to demand the sword back, and the emperor obliged. The interpretation is that the Vietnamese people will receive supernatural intervention... but only when they REALLY need it. The small pagoda in the center of the lake seen here commemorates this story.


Immediately north of the lake is the Old City or "The Thirty-Six Streets" where we are staying:

This is not a place for the claustrophobic. Alleyways and streets are narrow and overhanging, and everything imaginable is for sale, but in ordered groupings: this is the street of swimsuits, this is the street of vegetables, this is the street of coffins and headstones, and that is the street of shoes- without exaggeration, fifty or sixty shoe shops, all in a row. Notable exceptions to this policy are purely modern goods like CDs or cameras, which may appear anywhere. Our hotel ("Sunny Hotel") is at the intersection of swimsuits and alcohol. The larger meaning of this particular coincidence is left as an exercise for the reader.

I can't honestly claim credit for planning it this way, but Thailand was the perfect place to start this trip. Although it seemed exotic and bizarre at first, in retrospect it's very Western. Many people speak excellent English, and many more speak enough to communicate, and although the script is foreign, almost all street signs have English on them in addition to Thai. Furthermore, the society is very western: convenience stores on every corner and easy access to Western food (if you wanted it). In fact, 7-11s are so common in both Bangkok and Chiang Mai that "across from the 7-11" is a hopelessly ambiguous direction: main streets have multiples. Also, the Thai people are natural hosts- the "Land of Smiles" moniker is more than just a marketing slogan.

Vietnam is not like that. The script, though heavily accented, is mostly Roman, so you can read street signs and piece together a reasonably accurate pronunciation. Although for a speaker of English, tonality is always a linguistic landmine waiting for your missteps.

English is far less common here, although every once in a while my French comes in handy. common. It's not that the Vietnamese are inhospitable, it's just that they have a tough act to follow. The younger generation almost never speaks it, but French place names, architecture (and pastries!) are common.

We also visited the Temple of Literature, site of an ancient university in Hanoi. Here I am wearing a goofy hat in front of a statue of Confucius, and I think you just gotta love the contrast.

It may be pedestrian of me (if you'll pardon the pun) but I find crossing the street in Vietnam fascinating. In Thailand there's a contract in crossing the street: you make eye contact with oncoming traffic- they, in turn, agree to pay attention to you, and they slow down, a little, if it appears that you might collide. Your part of the deal is that you have to keep moving as quickly as possible once the drivers acknowledge your presence, and your safety is in your own hands. In Vietnam it's completely different. There are very few pedestrian crossings and not many streetlights to control the flow of traffic.

Incredibly, although the casual observer wouldn't realize it, in this country pedestrians rule. To cross the street here, you just step out into traffic. Your safety is the sole responsibility of the drivers in the street. The only requirement placed upon you is to walk at a constant rate so that the drivers can gauge where you will be when. Your first couple of experiences with this procedure are nerve-wracking to say the least.

Traffic in Vietnam is 90% motorcycles, 3% bicycles, 6% cars and 1% buses and trucks. So it's a densely packed river of motorcycles weaving around you doing 30-40 mph at less than arm's length while you inch forward across the street at your constant, steady pace, confident that it is their obligation to avoid you (important exception: buses).


The first time you cross a major road successfully and turn around to see the torrent of Hondas whizzing behind you, you feel like an alchemist staring down at a fresh brick of gold. Then you notice an octogenarian grandmother nonchalantly following you through an even heavier patch, and you deflate a bit.

One of my favorite finds in Hanoi is Bia Hoi, or "Fresh Beer". Many small street shops sell this delicious concoction from large metal barrels for about 2000 dong (about 12.5 cents) a glass. It's a light, frothy pilsner with almost no bitterness whatsoever, and a bit of a nutty flavor and a deep golden color. The alcohol content is very low- perhaps one percent, but that's the point. You see all manner of folks hanging out on the street in the late afternoon and early evening sipping the stuff (always served cold) continuously. Each establishment brews their own every day, so it doesn't have much time to ferment.

As a side note on Vietnamese currency, there is a giddy sense of power when you walk up to an ATM and say to yourself "Do I need one million or two? Ah, the heck with it. I'll just get three." As I write this, Amy owes me a million.

Wherever in Hanoi that there's a good stretch of broad sidewalk, you'll see paint lines for at least one or two courts of a street sport that resembles a cross between volleyball and hackey sack. In the photo below, immediately to the right of the shoulder of the young man engaged in a kick is a white blur. This is a beanbag the size of a hackey sack with a fabric tail. The kids knock the bag across the net using only their feet and heads, and some of them are GOOD.


The national museum was excellent- lots of ancient artifacts of paleolithic civilization in the Red River valley and such, and then a fantastic collection of art. But the ministry of propaganda clearly had a hand in designing the exhibits, as the "glorious history of the people of Vietnam" part of the signage is played up a bit too much. It's a shame, really, as the effect is the reverse of what's intended: the material would stand fine on its own without the cheerleading.

Amy and I both remarked on the martial theme of the art beginning in the 50s. Magnificent lacquered wood art, big as a barn door, depicting a mangrove swamp at night: gorgeous black wood for the background and mangrove trees depicted in mother-of-pearl inlay- disarmingly, breathtakingly beautiful. Then you realize that there are a dozen small human figures in the extreme corner of the painting, and you step up for a closer look... and realize that they're all carrying bazookas. Much of the contemporary art is like this.

Vietnam is also a bit less friendly to vegetarians, but I'll post a separate entry on that later.

Amy and I are going to do some side trips now to Halong Bay and the countryside. After that, we head south to Ho Chi Minh City, most likely by sleeper train so we can see some of the midcountry. More in a week!

P.S. --

Oh, and a side note for you Iron Dragon fans out there. Siam's gonna be the witness to the ultimate test of cerebral fitness. Here, in the Bangkok airport Amy and I found a good way to pass the time.

[*ed: true timestamp for this entry is a few hours ago - posted 9:43am boston time, via email. if your comments don't appear, it may be because PJ can't moderate them.]

Intermission: Where's Peej?

A proper post on Hanoi is forthcoming, but in the meantime I direct you to a new service, courtesy of my friend Tom. Enjoy!

http://www.raymo.net/wherespeej/

In Hanoi

Safely touched down in Hanoi and found a luxurious hotel for $15 a night. Tomorrow we begin exploring the city and soon after that, Halong Bay. More soon.

Elephants

Okay, let's just get this out of the way: YES, I am perfectly aware of how ridiculous I look. No, I don't care:


Very tourist-y establishment about an hour outside Chiang Mai, many little greedy opportunities to sepearte you from your hard-earned baht. But, get this: they have ELEPHANTS. Which you can RIDE. Not making this up. What, you need more photos?
Yes, it is indeed THAT cool to be riding an elephant. Goofy hat extra.

As you can see below, it was a beautiful, if slightly cloudy day. The hills to the North and West of Chiang Mai are magnificently forested (mainly thanks to the King of Thailand, more about him later) and the elephant park wound between several of these.
This little guy below was waiting for his mom to finish her work in one of the shows. I really think he was teething- he kept resting his jaw on the bench, and although receptive to people, was nonetheless cranky. Even the little ones are loud when annoyed. He was the medium sized one of the three babies in the park. I got to feed his older cousin bananas. No monkey love of bananas can touch the elephant passion for them- beleive me. Forgive me for sounding corny, but elephants are so... cool. They're big and friendly and serene somehow. And they seem a very easygoing lot. This may be wishful thinking on my part, but they seem okay with giving folks rides- they get a LOT of bananas out of the deal, and the handlers here seem to actually care for them. Given the symbology of elephants (they are everywhere), I doubt any Thai would tolerate mistreatment of them. Like if you heard bald eagles were being abused somewhere, whoever was doing it would have a ton of angry americans to deal with.


That same afternoon we went to a nearby orchid farm. Although this particular establishment was a large commercial venture, the King has pushed flower growing and organic vegetable gardening as an alternative to opium production in the rural areas of the country, particularly here in the north, and its been hugely successful. It had just rained, and the orchids were misted with water.

The king is a fascinating guy. In the last 50 years there's been miliary coups, aborted revolutions and literally dozens of governments- but the king has been the constant, and he's widely credited with keeping the country together. Just before we got here the king celebrated his 60th year on the throne.

At first I was highly skeptical, as per my usual suspicions of the superrich. There are huge posters of the king everywhere, and there's a lot of british-like celebrity worship of the guy. But the thing is he actually uses his wealth to help the people and is adored by his subjects. They're all scared of him dying since he's seen the country through so much and because his son is seen as a playboy ne'er -do-well.

In Thailand, each day of the week has a color, and the day you are born on is your color. The king was born on a Monday, so every Monday, at least half the Thais are decked out in yellow shirts. When you hear how the local people love him, you feel oddly compelled to buy one yourself. He does a lot for ordinary thais, and for the country as a whole. He's big on education, reforestation, encouraging common people to save and invest, and he's constantly warning the thais about the dangers of western-style consumption. He's also given credit for strenghening (read: implementing) the democratic part of the constitutional monarchy, which was more lip service than anything until the nineties. Although he may be regretting that, as he's at odds with the prime minister over corruption allegations.

I've spent other days this week in and around Chiang Mai (learning about the King, among other things). Wonderful city, with beautiful temples:

This is Dok Eung, one of the smaller temples in Chiang Mai, but in my opinion one of the prettiest. Although the vast majority of the Thai population claims to be Buddhist, only a small fraction are practicing. It used to be customary for all males to spend a short time as monks in their adolescnce, but this practice is fading.









An open air market in Chaing Mai at the Tae Phae gate. I bought tons of cheap stuff and mailed it home. I've met and talked to lots of thais, from restauraunters to guides to musicians in the lone Jazz bar in Chiang Mai (the guitarist was a Berklee grad!). Almost everyone has at least a little English- and you learn quickly to uncover the accent. They're a very welcoming, friendly people and they really want you to enjoy their home.











Here I'm learning to cook pad thai. We'll see if it sticks when I get home. The food here in general is amazing. Fantastic meals cost about $.75 on average, more if you have beer.





Okay, might be offline for a few days as Amy and I travel to Vietnam tomorrow. My next posting will be from Hanoi!

Chiang Mai

This is Chiang Mai:

The third largest city in Thailand is in the extreme north of the country, near the borders with Laos and Burma. In the old days it was on (or at least near) the silk road that carried Chinese goods to the West. The moat you see behind me was part of the city defenses. The tree and flower-lined moats remain (and are clean enough for kids to swim in during the new year celebrations) but all but a few small portions of the inner wall are gone. Chaing Mai is a tourist city, but still feels "real". There are lots of guesthouses, many European and American visitors, but perhaps most interesting, lots of Thai visitors as well. As in Bangkok, lots of English signage. That, we learned, was a deliberate decision of the government in the 80s to open up the country to outsiders (or "farang" as the Thai say).

We spent our first day in Chiang Mai just exploring the city. Today we went on a trek to the mountains south of town. Amazing day. Incredible weather and fantastic landscape. We started climbing up a mountain in the national park . The park is closed to all development, but the hill tribe peoples (Karen and Hmong, in these cases) are allowed to continue to farm the land. So they get views like this from their rice paddies:


Our guide, Bailai, was a fount of information about Thai culture, politics, and Buddhism especially, as he had spent ten years as a monk when he was younger. He lead us up a path that followed a rapid river. We met zero other tourists, several magnificent waterfalls and two mountain villages.


Here Bailai contemplates one of the smaller waterfalls we saw today:


Amy navigates one of the bridges the local people use to cross the river. I wasn't worried about falling into the rapids, as the pools at each level are relatively calm, and it would be simple to just climb out. I did fear for my camera, though...


This one was one of my favorites. There was enough flat rock that I could climb out into the middle of it and get this shot:


When we got to close to the top of this peak, we broke for lunch, eating fantastic Thai food (Stir fried vegetables, tofu soup and rice with hot chili pepper oil) at a mountaintop cafe off the tourist road. There, I befriended a small cat whom I neglected to photograph.

An hour later, I saw THE BIGGEST WATERFALL I'VE EVER SEEN:



Wachirathan is in the same national park that we'd been trekking through all day, but our guide saved this part for last. It was full of tourists, but that only made us appreciate that Bailai had led us off the beaten path up until that point. And when I saw this fall, I didn't care if there were postcard shops in the parking lot beneath.

I include the next photo for scale, more than for quality (impossible to keep the lens dry and still get this shot). This is a different angle on the same waterfall in the previous picture. The distance between me and the fall behind me is roughly equal to the width of the waterfall. As you can see, I'm soaked just standing this close to the torrent. The whole thing has to be a total of eight stories tall. The point where I'm standing is at least twenty feet above the catchpool. The noise is deafening and delicious all at the same time.

Tomorrow: cooking school for a day. After that, elephants?

Having the time of my life.

Exploring Bangkok

Bangkok, Jul 18, 2549:

Also known to westerners as 2006. Bangkok is hot and humid as advertised, but the climate is basically Houston in summer. The past few days have been pretty overcast, and any actual rain has lasted less than a minute (not sure how typical that is). What the city really lacks is the catalytic converter. It's VERY smoggy and poluted here, and of course there's substantial poverty. But we're having a fantastic time exploring the city. We walked across most of it yesterday, and my feet are tired.

The food is amazing beyond my dreams. A little hole-in-the-wall vegetarian restaurant half a mile from our hotel served up the best pad thai I've ever had in my life. Total bill for both of us, 75 Baht (about two dollars).

The above photo is taken in Lumpini park just east of downtown, as Amy and I cut through the park on our way to the Vietnamese embassy to secure our visas for the next stage of the trip. It's a gorgeous park, full of ducks and tightly manicured lawns. Speaking of Amy...
Here she is in front of the golden buddha, a recently recovered Thai treasure. It was covered in plaster to hide its value (probably during the 18th century) and when it was being moved in 1953, it was dropped. Some of the plaster came off revealing the gold underneath. It's stunning- eight feet tall at least.Here I am outside of the Grand Palace, the residence of a former Thai monarch. The current King lives in a more modern palace on the north end of the city. We walked through the Grand Palace and Wat Phra Kew yesterday morning:



This is the sitting doctor, who is beleived to be the father of Thai herbal medicine. Wat Phra Kew is a huge temple complex on the banks of the river. Each King adds his own construction to extend and enhance the complex, so over the years its grown to an impressive collection of beautiful buildings:

Okay that's enough for now. Amy and I fly to Chaing Mai in northern Thailand tonight, after we pick up our visas at the Vietnamese Embassy this afternoon. I'll post again after we've had a few days to explore Chaing Mai.

In Bangkok

I'm on the ground in Bangkok safely. Met up with Amy- we're both dead tired and eager for food and sleep in rapid succession. Photos to come, along with more detail soon.