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Walkabout with Hanoi Steve
On the streets are many faces but one refrain: “Help me. Help you. Help me.”
A couple of whipped-egg cappuccinos at Café Giang and a walk around Hoan Kiem Lake, and I figure I’ve finally got Hanoi sorted. Bad feelings have been accumulating since my arrival three days ago, and I have been struggling to adjust. But perhaps I am finally solving this temple to Ho Chi Minh and capitalism.
Traffic is the first sensual assault here. Vietnamese streets operate sonar-style — blasting the horn is merely the accepted way for every vehicle on the road to constantly announce its position. Rules of the road I will not get into, except to say that a description of ordinary driving here could double as an opening statement from a Canadian prosecutor.
Walking is no picnic either. The sight of a single foreigner on foot in Hanoi is equivalent to the sight of a 10-dollar bill on fire — swift action must be taken, and is. Motorbike, motorbike, pedal cab, shoeshine, bananas, motorbike, books, maps, hey, hey, hey mister. For the tourist in Hanoi peaceful repose is no more possible than for a toasted bagel in an orphanage. Unlike more cheerfully mercantile Bangkok, Hanoi hawkers are relentless. Typical was the guy who dashed into the post office as I waited to mail a parcel. “Please help, I am a student, I haven’t eaten, buy my post cards.”
“Khong, cam oon,” I replied. “No, thank you.”
“Hey, your Vietnamese very good!” he exclaimed. “Good accent! Excellent! Please buy my postcards, please, please, just help me today, I haven’t eaten.”
I bought. Forty-five minutes later, still at the post office counter (there was one beleaguered woman on valiant duty), he popped in again. “Please just help me today, please.”
“Remember me?” I asked. Maybe, maybe not. It didn’t matter. “Just help me today.”
Wishing for normal
What eats away at you is the seeming inability to conduct normal human interaction. Wariness becomes constant. “You’re too soft,” said a European at my hotel.
But who wants to travel to learn to be hard? And yet if you engage with people on the street you soon find that they will not let you go until you have paid for their time. First comes resentment at the harassment; then guilt because the money so obviously means more to them than to you; then you give in but it’s not enough and the guilt and resentment roil into a sickening stew.
Repeat on the next block and the next; run back to your hotel and hide.
But tonight as the lights glimmer on Hoan Kiem Lake I am attacked only by that other Hanoi pressure group, English students seeking conversational practice. (Question number three is always “How old are you?” They ought to take that one out of the phrase book.) After a couple of those great egg-and-coffee concoctions I’m feeling much better. I reach the end of the lake and turn for my hotel.
A map, a kitten, a WC
Or not. Ten minutes later I am clearly lost. I pull out the map, change course, find myself lost again. A lovely young woman sits in front of a store — I show her the map and ask if I’m going in the right direction. Yes, she says. In another 10 minutes I discover her sense of direction is no better than mine.
Farther and farther from my hotel, those whipped-egg cappuccinos are now pressing hard on my bladder. I reverse again, standing on a corner searching for a street sign. At my feet is a kitten. A palm-size kitten, all alone, looking around. Men sit on low stools drinking and smoking, oblivious. A guy sees me standing looking at the helpless kitten and yells something. What he yells is: “Hey! Motorbike?”
Now I see at least one of the signs I seek — WC. A bathroom. Five hundred dong (about four cents) buys me entrance to an unlit stall with a porcelain hole in the ground. It’s dark. When I emerge, it’s as I feared — I’ve pretty much pissed all over my shoe. Plenty on the pant-leg, too.
A motorbike nearly clips me as I amble past a pile of red-hot embers on the sidewalk, remnants of an offering for the dead. I’ve stopped looking at the map. It doesn’t help.
Hanoi is not without its charms. But compensation for its many stresses are sometimes hard to find — there is too much indifferent street food, too many markets full of plastic goods and Vietnamese Twinkies. Repeat visitors tell me the city has changed a lot in only a few years. Bicycles have been replaced by cars and motorbikes, the pace and the noise have intensified.
Even the local hospitality can carry a sting. One day I was invited to sit by a group of men at a low table in a crowded Hanoi side street. A large hot pot bubbled in the middle of the table, from which they plucked morsels to drop into a bowl for me. The offerings were mostly gristle, fat, and connective tissue, although the broth was tasty. One of my dining companions leaned across the table with a grin and asked, “Do you want?”
“Want what?” I replied, before looking down to see the gesture he was making — a fist with the thumb protruding between the middle and index fingers. He may just have been offering me a nice piece of thumb — it was probably in that hot pot somewhere — but it looked a trifle more lewd. Whatever offer was intended I declined and eventually they bid me adieu, refusing my money. At the time, I was very grateful. Six hours later I was in the hotel bathroom with their hospitality spraying out of every orifice but my ears.
Home for soaps
Tonight I am beginning to wonder if I will ever see that hotel room again when at last I find my neighbourhood. On the final two blocks I am like a moving McDonald’s drive-through window — girls on motorbikes are lined up like the lunch hour rush, at least five of them cruising up one after another. “Motorbike? Boom-boom? Very good!”
In my hotel lobby a soap opera, possibly Korean, is on the tube. It’s dubbed in Vietnamese and, as is usually the case here, all the characters have been dubbed by the same woman. Hollywood productions featuring young detectives, femmes fatale, bearded mechanics, precocious children — all dubbed by the same woman. It’s particularly entertaining in the love scenes.
I go wash my pants.
Steve Burgess, who is sending letters from Asia, still tries to fulfil his obligations to The Tyee as an occasional television critic.
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Truman Green (not verified)
7 years ago
Great travel piece, Steve, but I guess fighting the Americans and the Kymer Rouge took a pretty big toll, not to mention the Japanese and the French. Oh yeah--and the Chinese. Maybe not getting a Nobel prize for saving Cambodia from Pol Pot might also have pissed them off.
Sunny Samson (not verified)
7 years ago
I love this travelogue. It's saving me oodles of money not having to visit this region. Not my cup of tea thanks very much. Some people can take that kind of thing, not me.
By the way, that hot pot sounds like something I enountered in San Francisco's Chinatown a couple of years ago. Actually the broth smelled and looked so horrible that we left it untouched. Good thing I guess. Our orifices didn't malfunction. Don't care much for San Fran either. Way over-rated in my book.
Steve's gonna kiss the ground when he gets back to Vancouver. Love these pieces. They're a nice alternative to the political stuff (which I like too, but sometimes need a break from).
Ron Y (not verified)
7 years ago
Steve Burgess scripts hard-boiled narrative, showing enviable command of language. It's anecdotally detailed, as well. He's clearly interacting with his environment; getting into it. That's great stuff, it really is.
kumagau (not verified)
7 years ago
If you haven't already, book a trip up to Sa Pa and Bac Ha. Truly worth it...another world. I really liked Ha Noi: quiet, slow, safe traffic. Ho Chi Minh City (Sai Gon) is a MADhouse...And you're right about the thumb in the finger thing...it means what it looks like. Suffice it to say, the 'got-your-finger' game is not big there.
kumagau (not verified)
7 years ago
Forgot to mention-you shoulda saved the dong (and your pants) and done it Viet Namese-style: on the wall, baby! And oops...it's got your nose...
Russ (not verified)
7 years ago
Actually, to somebody from an area without panhandlers, Vancouver was pretty shocking in itself. My wife and I loved the city, but it was astonishing to see so many beggers. Vancouver is no Hanoi, but it hasn't dealt effectively with a very basic and ugly problem.
Avi (not verified)
7 years ago
I'm currently in Hanoi as well and am not experiencing kumagau's "quiet, slow, safe traffic." We started our 3 week Vietnam trip in Saigon, and while it was indeed a madhouse, it didn't feel quite as insane as Hanoi - in the last 24 hours we've been nearly mowed down several times on the small streets of the Old Quarter. It is the day before Tet (New Year) so maybe things are crazier than usual? The other places we've been throughout the country are incredible and beautiful, and outside of the big cities the people are extremely friendly, without wanting to sell you moto/cyclo/book/postcards at every turn. In Hue we got caught in an impromptu game of "red rover" with a group of children near our guesthouse. Their grinning faces and shrieks of delight as we, strange tourists, played along, is something I haven't seen on the streets of Vancouver in a long time. I look forward to reading about the rest of your journey Steve - hope you enjoy the country as much as we have. It's an amazing, friendly, beautiful place, and I can't wait for my next trip back here.
Steve Burgess (not verified)
7 years ago
Avi, thanks for your note (and thanks to all who have contributed to this thread--it's been a boon for a lonely traveler). You have reassured me that I'm not just a dyspeptic crank and that Hanoi truly has changed since back in the day when it could be described as quiet. In my forthcoming book "Steve Burges' Top 200 Adjectives to Describe Hanoi," "quiet" will be missing from the index. Also, I am finding Saigon a much saner place, as you say. Wider boulevards mean that when someone honks it's not straight into your auditory canal. But perhaps I should save this for next time.
Travellelin' gal (not verified)
7 years ago
Comparing Vancouver and Hanoi is pointless. Both places are special and crazy and beautiful in their own ways.
Globe Treker (not verified)
7 years ago
Chao, Steve. Chuc Mung Nam Moi! (Happy New Year.) Tet is an interesting time to be in Vietnam, but it helps to know some locals because most stores, offices and businesses are closed for at least 3 days, possibly for the whole week. The first day of Tet is primarily about family, and who you will receive as visitors - elderly relatives and neighbours arriving at your door is usually considered a sign of great respect. (As are foriegn friends or tourists - especially if you arrive with "lixi" or "lucky money" in red envelopes - very auspicious!) The second day of Tet is usually reserved for visiting friends, and the third day is for paying respect to teachers, professors, police men and other authority figures. I hope that you get an opportunity to visit with a Vietnamese family and learn more about the customs surrounding Tet. As for that eternal question asked of all visitors and newcomers to Vietnamese society, "How old are you?", this is not some stock question in an English language phrase book, Steve. In Vietnamese society individuals respond to each other based upon their relative age differences. Once the relationship is established individuals will usually dispense with names and they will address each other with words that signify the relationship. In your case, anyone younger than you will address you as "anh". In response, you will address them, either male or female, as "em" (the exception here is any pretty young female accompanied by her boyfriend, who might take exception to you calling his girlfriend "em" - try "co" instead). When in doubt, check your own phrase book! I hope that you (and Avi, too) have a great time in Vietnam - in my experience the south has generally been more hospitable, but I will leave you to discover that on your own.
Globe Treker (not verified)
7 years ago
Steve, I am looking forward to reading your observations about Saigon/Ho Chi Minh city. No doubt Nguyen Hue Blvd. was blocked to vehicle traffic again this year during Tet, to acommodate the many public flower displays. That is a great place to mingle with the locals and observe their customs and behavior. I wish you all the best on your travels in SE Asia.
Phil (not verified)
7 years ago
My wife and I spent two and a half months in Vietnam last year, and I must say, Steve's observations are hilarious and very familiar. I could add one observation about the traffic in Hanoi. At rush hour, if the two way street fills up with one-way traffic, as it often does, the motorbikes simply use the sidewalks. Pedestrians step aside, but use your ears if they're coming from behind! Of course they only use the sidewalks where other motorbikes are not being parked. When not in use, motorbikes are only parked on sidewalks. Pedestrians have to walk in the stree to get around them.
On the other hand, we grew to like the Vietnamese people very much. Even a slight acquaintance broke down distances of culture and language. They showed us kindness and respect, were very helpful, and many went out of their way to make us feel welcome, even when there was no profit to be had. They appreciated any feeble attempt on our part to learn Vietnamese, and corrected us with a smile.
Steve is right about the experience of being a walking source of income in the cities, but I've experienced this in many underdeveloped parts of the world.