Hello, Hanoi
(Part 11 of Many)
Across the street a man is loading into a hand-drawn cart dozens of red bricks. Each brick has 4 cylindrical holes, and one by one, he lays them on top of their comrades, each singing a soft little clank as they fall. Read more…
Hello, Hanoi
(Part 9 of Many)
I have not posted for a few days because sometimes this world cuts me like a stone, and I have to wander around half-dead until breathable air arrives.
Read more…
And now, a brief word from the Ministry of Health.
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Being a vegetarian in Northern California is almost clichéd; however, being a vegetarian in Vietnam is no small feat. Read more…
Hello, Hanoi
(Part 7 of Many)
The week leading up to Têt, I was invited by my friends Bắc and Hà to help make banh trung chay, or “square cakes” at their pagoda. These are cakes made out of mung beans and rice, traditionally eaten during the lunar new year. The pagoda where they attend is the only one in Hà Nội that follows the philosophy of Thích Nhat Hành. Of course, I was honored and excited.
Hello, Hanoi
(Part 6 of Many)
Still remembering my first days here…
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The rest of my day was full of pot holes and mud. Everything I wrote smelled like eggs, and I got lost 7 times over. When I got back home to Bắc’s place, I swore I was buying my plane ticket home.
Hello, Hanoi
(Part 5 of Many)
I am sitting on the bed– on “my” bed for the next few months, I suppose. It is a little over a foot off the floor, made from dark mahogany-looking wood, with a woven grass mat on top. My friend and host, Bắc, has given me a couple of extra blankets to act as “mattress” and sheet. An old camping sleeping bag I’ve brought from home has already proved invaluable, as the weather took a dive toward cold for the week of Têt. I have come to love my bed, somehow cozy in it’s simplicity.
As I near three weeks having been here, I smile to remember all that has changed, and all that hasn’t: Read more…
Hello, Hanoi
(Part 4 of Many)
Of course, I am just as trusting of the Vietnamese family as they are of me.
Two hours ago I have stumbled in, following the signs for cafe and wifi, only to find myself sitting in someone’s dining room table cum coffee shop… and when I finally need to use the bathroom, I leave my laptop and bag (with wallet) in their living room as collateral. Read more…
Hello, Hanoi
(Part 3 of Many)
We made it.
3 hours later than I set out to write, I am sitting in someone’s living room drinking strong coffee and sugared lotus seeds. The Xe Om driver, knowing a shortcut, made his way beautifully through traffic and dropped me off in the Tay Ho district. I have come to this street because my friend Jenny lives nearby, my friend Aaron owns a wine bar down the street, and I am confident that if all else fails I can beg them for some pity. It is the only place in Hanoi from where I can find my way home.
Hello, Hanoi
(Part 2 of Many)
If you think that traveling halfway across the world to live in a busy Asian city where you don’t speak the language, don’t know your way around, and have a very thin grasp on where you’ll find your next meal will make it easier for yourself to write that elusive novel you’ve been dreaming about– I have some advice: it won’t. Read more…