Reggae Party in Hanoi!

I have mentioned The Only Reggae Band numerous times in my blog (performed at my Birthday Party for one...), and here I go talking about them again. This past Wednesday a bunch of us got together and headed over to E-Z Rider Bar (and yes, it is decorated with themes from the movie) to watch the guys perform. Usually the band consists of 4 people, but this time a random hippie from Thailand showed up with a bongo and one drum stick, which he then proceeded to hold between his toes and drum on a large can. The show was really fun, with a lot of Reggae dance, and it seemed that a lot of people wanted to get in on the action of the band; every other minute some random person was on the stage holding a wood block, or a cowbell, or some other equally inane instrument. By the time midnight hit, the intense Vietnamese woman who owned the bar rushed the stage, tapping the guys mid-song and trying to get them off. After 3 attempts of repeated poking, prodding, and pleading, a more elderly version of the same woman jumped up and started pulling the singer away from the microphone. This resulted in a quick termination of a Bob Marley rendition, and was immediately followed by the police busting through the door. This is never usually a cause for alarm for a foreigner, but it definitely explained why the Vietnamese owners were freaking out. So the police waved their batons and we all filed out into the street, which was lined with police officers looking rather pleased to have busted a party that was host to such a large number of attractive white women. We managed to get about 2 hours of music in, so overall, I would say the concert was a success. Next week is the International CAMA Music Festival, which hosts bands from all over Asia; there was an amazing Japanese all-girl rock band last year, so I am really looking forward to some of the bands coming this time. Who knew Hanoi could be such a happenin' music spot? :)

100 Day Anniversary of Phuong's Death

The 100 day anniversary of a Vietnamese person's death is an important day for the family and friends of the recently deceased. On this day, family and friends gather together to visit the grave, which is usually the first time the grave has been visited since the original funeral. This afternoon, I went over to Phuong's house with a couple friends and rode with her family to the cemetery. We drove about 30 minutes outside of Hanoi, and once we arrived, had to weave our way through built-up tombs. In Vietnam, it is tradition that a person is put in a casket, which is then covered in a mound of mud and grass. After three years, the body is taken out, the bones cleaned, and then placed in a smaller box, which is housed inside of a concrete tomb (usually painted and decorated). At the 5 year anniversary, another "celebration" is had at the tomb. Usually, friends and relatives bring money for the immediate family.

We passed the concrete tombs and reached the section of the cemetery that was covered in muddy, grassy mounds, each one labeled with a small, marble tombstone. The mounds are above ground due to the wet soil (the cemetery was surrounded by rice paddies), so we waded towards Phuong's grave up to our ankles in mud. Once we arrived, her mother threw herself onto the muddy mound, crying and yelling Phuong's name. Everyone in the group lit incense, placed flowers, and even poured Coca-cola over her grave (it was her favorite drink). We then proceeded to burn some more things for her to use in the after-life. Her mother, who had seemed unnaturally calm during the ride over, was not faring so well. She was crying so hysterically that she became unconscious, and had to be carried away from the grave. I have never seen such an outpouring of sorrow before, and felt myself losing control of my emotions as well. It took over an hour before we were able to calm her mother down enough to walk her back to the waiting taxi. Once we made it back to Hanoi, Phuong's mother had reclaimed her strength and was smiling and talking with us, inviting us back to the house whenever we wanted. It was strange, seeing her mother fluctuating between such emotional extremes... Phuong was the exact same way; I had once found her crying outside of the restaurant/bar she worked in, and after 10 minutes, she was back inside and completely normal again. Seeing this characteristic in her mother made me miss her terribly.

I know this is depressing, and described with a bit too much detail, but even though it was so sad, it was an important day to remember and love a dear friend.

Dia Lai Lake

With the celebration of the first King's death, came a day off from work, and a chance for myself and Son to take yet another day trip into the countryside. About 1 and a half hours north of the city, there is a gigantic lake that is said to be nice spot for people trying to get away from the thrum of the city. Son had been 10 years ago, and said it was basically a lake, some grass, and not much else. This sounded lovely, so we packed up some picnic materials, jumped on the bike, and off we went. The drive towards the lake was incredible. Instead of the usual rice paddies as far as the eye can see, we took an old, dirt, pot-hole riddled road through tiny towns and villages. A lot of towns specialized in flower growing, so the sides of the roadswere vibrant with whites, yellows, and reds. We hit one town just as school was getting out, so we were stuck in a sea of students in matching white jackets, with at least 2 kids per bicycle (note picture).This was the heaviest traffic we had to deal with during the entire journey, and it was pretty cute. I caused a bit of a fuss with my blonde hair sticking out of my helmet, so I made sure to continually wave the peace sign... much to the excitement of the students. After emerging from the mass of homeward-bound students, we continued on our way through towns that looked like they hadn't been changed in 100 years. At numerous points the road got so bad that we were not sure if we were even still on a road. But eventually, we made it to the lake. Not much to our surprise, the place had changed drastically; the fast-paced building-up of surrounding areas is happening everywhere, and arriving to multiple construction sights around the lake was a bit of a let-down, but to be expected. We drove around, looking for an ideal picnic spot. The only ones we saw were located on forested islands in the middle of the lake. First, we tried driving down a rocky path, and then climbing over a gorge to set up on a very inviting river bank on the other side. Being headstrong, I slid down into the valley of this 7ft gorge first, intent on being successful getting up the other side. This proved disastrous, since both sides were formed of crumbling rock. After a good 20 minute hurrah, I gave up and had Son pull me back out. We got back to the bike in search of plan 2... a boat to get us to the island. Little resorts scattered the lake, and boasted numerous boats and canoes, but these were inaccessible unless we were staying at the resort, so we kept driving, with our eyes peeled. We finally happened upon a small fleet of swan boats, looking rather dejected, sitting along the shoreline next to a construction zone. We quickly ran over to the disheveled restaurant and asked to take a boat out. Minutes later, a young woman was brushing off the giant spiders and ushering us into the boat. Both Son and I are not a big fan of spiders, so we were worried about any that she might of missed (this fear proved grounded, since we later looked over our shoulders and saw a very big, very red spider hanging out behind our heads). We got over the insect issue and started paddling away. These boats move incredibly slow, and I was beginning to doubt that we'd ever make it to the island. By the time we got closer, my passion for all things architecture had us making a biiiig detour around the entire lake to look at the real-estate. Additionally, a pack of water buffalo were grazing on the shore, so naturally I had to paddle over to them and take a gander (I find them very cute, which Son in turn finds strange). 3 hours and very tired legs later, we skipped out on the river bank picnic and just headed back to the restaurant. We grabbed a couple cokes, and prepared to head back to Hanoi. As I requested to use the bathroom in Vietnamese, the owner of therestaurant looked at the "public restroom", thought twice, then lead me through her house, past a sleeping baby in a hammock, and then let me use their personal bathroom, which was a great improvement to the thing that passes for a toilet outside (I think all this was due to the excessive compliments I was giving to her grandson).

We got back to Hanoi and ended our day on a high-note, at a Bia Hoi crowded with men celebrating the holiday; I celebrated with sauteed young bamboo, and stir-fried beef. :) Now I have 2 more work weeks until the next holiday, Reunification Day, (if anyone recalls my post from the same day last year... MAYHEM), we will definitely be getting out of the city for that as well.

100th post!

So I started writing a very non-impressive post regarding some typical, every-day things when I noticed that this was my 100th post. I felt I had to do some justice to this occasion, so I've decided to write about some of the things that made me fall in love with this wonderful city and it's amazing people.

-The Vietnamese people, in general, are some of the most hard-working I've seen. 90 year old women who seem to be sinking into their skin can be seen on all the streets, peddling chewing gum or selling newspapers. Women using the iconic hanging stick baskets rove the streets and alleys looking for an ideal place to set up their street food business for the day. These women literally carry their restaurant around with them; chairs, ingredients, cooking pots, and even charcoal grills are piled high in their hanging baskets. Yet all this weight doesn't seem to bother them, as they always appear to be smiling and chatting away with customers. Old men squat for hours on the side of the road, brandishing a hand-pump and a few dirty tools. They sit and wait for the unlucky person with a flat tire who happens to be nearby. The amount of things these men can do to a motorbike using the simplest of tools is truly remarkable. On my way to work one day, I was struck with a flat tire myself. As I pulled over to assess the damage, one older man jumped up from his spot on the road and flagged me over. Without a word, he got right to work, removing my tire, replacing the inner-tube, aggressively pumping up the tire, then screwing everything back into place with lightening speed. 5 dollars and 5 minutes later, I was back on the road.

-The Vietnamese people's appreciation for nature and well-being is infectious. Son and I drove by a "bird show" just the other day. About 100 men sat on little stools, surrounded by 100's of intricately-carved wooden bird cages suspended on wires (I'm so disappointed that I didn't have my camera!). The entire point of this get-together was to admire the birds and listen to them sing. When we drove by 2 hours later, they were still there, just enjoying the sound of the birds. Son informed me that they were likely swapping advice on how to improve the bird's song (his grandfather insists that purified water and daily petting are two 'musts' for a bird to have a "good voice"). Also, walking around any park or lake during any time of the day, one is sure to come across some group of Vietnamese people enjoying the scenery. Benches are everywhere, and rarely vacant. Groups of young adults gather at the parks to practice new dance moves, exchange new yo-yo tricks, show-off a new skateboard move, or even kick around a soccer ball. The older people show up to the parks armed with badminton nets and rackets, stringing the net between trees and taking advantage of the painted badminton courts on the sidewalks. Around 6am, groups of middle-aged women hit the parks with a boom box, and just as quickly as their rythmic arm twirling and pelvic thrusts begin, they disperse to carry on with the day's work. If you are looking for entertainment, look no further than a public park... and I am lucky enough to live across the street from one such place. :)

- Small motorbike accidents happen all the time. During rush hour, it is extremely common to have someone roll over your foot, or accelerate into your back tire. When this happens, it is usually greeted with a shrug and a smile. If no serious damage is caused, it is customary to simply ignore someone who has just hit you. This obviously took me a while to get used to, since the American way of dealing with any vehicle contact is to immediately jump out of the car, assess the damage, and then berate the person responsible. It is really amazing to me that people hit each other and take it as a matter of course. Then again, the traffic is so bad that coming in contact with someone else really is the norm. The only real fights I've seen in response to traffic accidents involve some major damage to the bike, and let me tell you, those arguments looked very intense (it is moments like these that make me thankful for my non-fluency).

-Vietnam is home to one of the most family-oriented cultures in the world. 3 or more generations live together in one home, with relatives usually living close by. The fact that everything revolves around family life always impresses me. Comparing the intensity of the Vietnamese family values to those of Americans, I almost feel ashamed that as grandparents age, we send them away to receive medical care, rather than take them into our own home. The independence of the American family makes holidays like Christmas or Thanksgiving even more special, since it is a time for families to come together. Whereas in Vietnam, families are always together, yet celebrate family holidays with the same amount of vigor as Americans during our national holidays. Living here has definitely given me more respect for my family and a greater desire to stay close to them, which I think is one of the best lessons I will bring back with me to the States.

-The street culture never fails to amaze me. Absolutely everything is done on the street. Whether it be eating lunch, getting a haircut, repairing a motorbike, or shopping for food, everything happens right out there, in the open. The American culture has a tendency to hide behind storefront windows, creating displays to lure people inside. But here, everything is on the street; shops, cafes, and restaurants usually have no front door, and are just completely open instead... there is no guessing what is inside a Vietnamese shop, or even a Vietnamese house, as all of these things are open to the street and therefore easily accessible by all people walking by.

- The friendliness and curiosity of the Vietnamese people is definitely noteworthy: I have yet to meet someone who treats me with animosity because of my status as a "tay", or Westerner. Since I've put in the time to improve my Vietnamese, everyone I've met is so enthusiastic about my attempt to speak the language, however bad I may be. After saying even a few words in Vietnamese, I am usually greeted with hearty Vietnamese chatter, most of which is too fast for me to understand. Even with how little I can understand or explain, most people I've met won't stop trying to understand more about me, about my life, and about how I feel about Vietnam. Everyone wants to know why I'm living here, when I could be enjoying the "rich, Western lifestyle" instead. The fascination and determination of the Vietnamese people to get to know a stranger is truly inspiring.

In light of recent circumstances, I've only just realized that I will be returning to America in 2 short months. Honestly, I don't feel I am ready to leave Hanoi behind, but my educational ambitions are calling, and furthering myself in the field of Architecture is the most important goal in my life right now. Now that I know how limited my time is, I feel an even greater appreciation for this city. It is going to be extremely hard leaving everything behind, but I will be bringing home a new outlook on life, and new values to apply to my life in America. I am thankful for every experience I've had here, as every aspect of my life seems to have been enriched by the osmosis of Vietnamese culture.

TOI YEU HA NOI!!!!!!