Hanoian Birthday Party!

This past Friday, my friend Phuong and I celebrated our birthdays with a big 'ole birthday bash. Phuong works at this bar/restaurant called House of Son Tinh up towards West Lake (a very posh neighborhood). Therefore, we decided to rent out the private floor and invite all of our friends. My friend Ryan has a band with three other Nigerian guys, and they call themselves The Only Reggae Band, which is very fitting because they are, indeed, the only reggae band in Ha Noi. They played a lively little set and had the whole party dancing. Upon my request, they gave a wonderful rendition of my favorite Bob Marley song, "Could You Be Loved", followed by a reggae-fied Happy Birthday. We had over 80 people show up to enjoy music, food, and drinks. The band brought a bunch of their Nigerian friends along, so we got to watch a whole group of them do some "native dancing", which was really cute and, naturally, I joined in. It was an awesome experience to have such a mix of Vietnamese and foreigners, and it turned into quite a lovely cross-cultural celebration. After the party died down, a bunch of us went to one of the few late-night spots in Ha Noi. The government has a curfew set in place, so most bars are supposed to be closed by midnight. Usually, "closing" involves shutting the doors and windows and trying to appear closed, and letting everyone stay inside. The bars only completely close when the police bust in and tell everyone to leave, which happens on a very regular basis. So, there is one "club" that is situated a bit out of the city center, bordering the Red River. It's hidden through a garage, and I have yet to see police close it down. So, given that this place was likely still open, we all hopped in taxis and made our way to Phuc Tan. There, were proceeded to dance to some out-dated techno or chat on the back porch when we needed a break. With ears ringing, we headed back out into the street and jumped into one of the taxis that was eagerly awaiting the arrival of white people.

The next morning, a couple of us met up at a favorite brunch spot, Cafe 129. This place calls itself "slow-food", which is not far from the truth, because you always end up waiting over an hour for anything to arrive... so you can only go here if you have time to sit around. This place makes the best "American breakfast" I have yet encountered; they make pancakes using imported Bisquik, which is really a huge improvement from all the other "Western pancakes" I tried before (which tend to be a lot more like tasteless crepes). After enjoying a much-needed brunch, I went with Son to his house to visit his father, who recently had knee surgery due to a motorbike accident. I had never been to Son's house before, and had been constantly warned that it was "really old", and "out of date". I think Son was a bit nervous for me to come since my house is brand new, super modern, and very clean. Given my propensity to love anything with architectural history, I had been hankering to visit his house for some time, since it had survived the war and was over 100 years old. So I finally got my chance, and really loved it. It was a very old, very traditional Vietnamese house. Small ladders took the place of stairs, and antique wooden furniture decorated the main living space. I particularly liked the kitchen, which had ancient tiles and a vast array of potted plants. Really, the whole house was a great lesson in traditional Vietnamese living; I tend to get pretty jaded living the "foreigner lifestyle" and I very much enjoyed seeing a house that had barely changed for over a century. Hopefully I will get to go back and take some photos, it had such lovely charm!

Well, my friend's band is now playing a little set down the street at Puku Cafe, so I am going to run over there and see if I can catch the end of it.