Hanoi and Happiness

We are wrapping up our time in Vietnam.  Just two more days and then we make our way to Laos, then Cambodia and then back home sweet home.

I woke Quinn up at 3:40 this morning because I couldn't sleep and decided to finish up the blog from last night, the clicking of the keys and the light I used to see probably kept her from sleeping soundly...probably.  Anyway, I felt bad about it, but she got even with me by trying to be grouchy for about five minutes when I finally decided we needed to get moving. I dragged her out of bed at 6:30 with many protests but we are in Hanoi (!!) and there is a walking path around a lake nearby that I wanted to hit since really, when will we get to do that again??

We crossed this street twice!

After a quick breakfast, we walked out the front door of the hotel into the thick humid air.  We actually made it across two busy streets using the walk slowly and stare down the buses, motor bikes and cars that are driving directly toward you method, and it worked!!  Seriously, nearly fifty vehicles were flying at us and we had to take a deep breath and just step into the street and be brave strong and actually turn off that ingrained mechanism in our brains that said "RUN!"  I know I have mentioned this ad nauseum, but the traffic is crazy around here.

Mattress guy

At our cabin in the summer, I could almost sit for hours just staring at the fire, it is calming and peaceful even though it is hot and dangerous.  That is exactly what watching the traffic in Vietnam is like.  It is mesmerizing watching the near misses and random bobs and weaves of thousands upon thousands of vehicles.  There are legally only two lanes in the road, but in practice (and I am not exaggerating) there are often fifteen to twenty cars and bikes and buses and motorscooters across all performing some sort of graceful dance of movement.  (Another sighting of a man with many pigs in a basket, by the way today...also another mattress, wonders never cease).

Okay, what I really meant to say before I got hypnotized by talking yet again about the traffic is that Quinn and I walked around a pretty lake in the middle of Hanoi near our hotel. The lake is called "Turtle Lake" because it is chock full of guess what?  But, we didn't see a one, I guess they come to the surface other times of the year.  In the middle of the lake is a Buddhist temple that is 1,000 years old.  Beautiful trees surround the lake and there are rambling walking paths all the way around.  And, they are full full full of people.

At Turtle Lake

All of Vietnam, but especially noticeable in Hanoi is the outdoor culture of people gathering at all hours to talk, sit and contemplate, eat a meal, play badminton, soccer, smoke a pipe, and perform interesting "exercise" moves.  We have seen it all today.  There were hundreds of people out especially performing their morning exercises which varied from slapping their legs all over in random patterns to swimming movements while standing up to windmills to torso twists and other movements that were inexplicable.

After our walk, the heat really started bearing down and we joined our little group and went together to a temple to see some more of the culture of this country.  The little village we went to worships a man who came and helped the village people some 700 years ago.  It was a labyrinth of altars and incense and Buddhas and ancestors and was all very beautiful but hard to concentrate on since the air temperature was approaching one million degrees, I mean 105.  The air was still today with no wind and heavy humidity so by the time we got back to the car we were limp with sweat.

After a return trip back to downtown Hanoi, we visited a museum, an outdoor museum, that displayed the various houses and costumes of the different people groups of Vietnam.  Very interesting except that it was so hot that it was miserable.  Even my knees were sweating buckets, Quinn's hair took on new dimensions in the humidity and we both started speaking gibberish...just kidding about that last part.  Anyway, the point of the museum is that many many cultures have converged in this country.  Some of the groups I remember: Hmong, Dao, Thay, Cham...also of course, Viet.  Each with their own cultures and traditions, this place is truly a melting pot.

Can you see the electric power lines??  Woah.

Okay, I won't bore you any more with details but, we wrapped up our day with a water puppet show featuring traditional music and puppets that dance over the water, and also another walk but this time through the old quarter of Hanoi with its little stalls and squalid living conditions (even the narrowest of alleys can house 25 people and do) and pretty colors of the many things that are being sold and eaten.  That's just the thing, the colors and the people and the vibe here are lively and upbeat but the truth is that it is very dirty and chaotic, too.  All of it is mishmashed together and it washes over you like the relentless humidity, you feel it and succumb to it and accept it.  The pandemonium somehow works.

Old Quarter Hanoi

Water Puppet Show

Children play in a pubic square

The last thing that happened today was when we all sat around and listened to Phong answer the question, "What is your happiest memory from childhood?"  He has told us so many hard stories from his time growing up in the countryside outside of Saigon.  He and his brother had to collect by hand the cow dung from around their village to help keep their family home warm. The children in the village called them "Dung Boys," and laughed at them.  All eight family members slept together in one room on a table (a traditional one meant for sleeping) until Phong was 17 years old.  When he was eight years old his mother was hospitalized with a undetermined condition in which her leg swelled "and looked like an elephant's," in Phong's words.  His father had to sell all the furniture and everything they owned to pay for her medical care.  When they ran out of money, the doctors just sent her mom home and they thought she would die (she survived but it took it's toll on their family).  Phong rode his bike to school 10 miles one way every day until his bike was stolen and he had to walk.  I could go on and on, but after telling us all this, he said to us that his happiest memory was "All of it."

All the struggle, the pain, the isolation, the worry, the abject poverty it made him who he is today.  A soft spoken, thoughtful and kind man who has been able to travel around much of the world and has met people from all over and shows them graciously his country.  I have learned a lot here on this trip, and much of it will probably fade over time, but I hope I never forget Phong's response to the question about happiness.