Setting the record straight

For many reasons, spending an extended period in Asia (and not just Vietnam) has been a tremendous learning experience for me. And one of the more important realisations I’ve had is that Asian people in South East Asia are not, by and large, represented by Asian people in Canada or Australia, or other Western countries. That is, the Asian kid you knew in high school – you know, the skinny one with a pasty computer screentan who hated sport, and wore glasses, and was really good at math and science…forget him.

The average person (based on a survey of thousands) in South East Asia are what the Kiwis call hard cases. Replace the math geek with someone who, while s/he might be smaller, is also tougher; used to hardship (at least, more personal daily discomfort than  your average MEC wearer) and is also perhaps covered in tattoos and stares down the trucks coming head-on while driving the motorbike like a demon with a grudge. S/he is probably able also to climb mountains in 5-inch heels, or plastic sandals; is unfazed by swimming in inky black bodies of water; and is probably smoking a cigarette while paddling to shore in squat position from an anchored boat on an ancient surfboard (in lieu of an actual dinghy). In other words, there is a pretty different risk calculation undertaken here compared to the stereotypically cautious Asian person in the Western world – indeed to people in general in the Western world.

Which is why I’ve realised: forget the math geek – you really should be watching out for the fighting monk with pointy implements.

(original picture at http://www.britishinkdc.com/Article%20Images/ThaiTattoo.jpg)

Highlights, and other -lights

I have a friend who has a theory that the South was lost because Southerners were just too damned fond of naps.  I’m no history expert, but I gotta say, the xe ôm drivers (motorbike taxis) in Sin City, Vietnam were too relaxed to even solicit for business:

Moto yourself

Among some of the strangest things I saw when I was in Saigon was this, I’m not sure what you’d call it, a festive dog-pig cake I suppose:

I'd be blushing too

Despite probably being quite a delicious baked good, it’s probably the most effective appetite suppressant I’ve seen in recent times. I’m not sure why that is; but I’m going to go with the unsettling coyness of the dog-pig’s lowered lashes. Mmmeeeep!

Mind you, the north has its fair share of idiosyncracies and the aesthetically questionable. For example, at a soccer game, in this case the recent Vietnam vs China Asian Cup qualifier in Hanoi, your game time refreshments might look something like this:

Beer in a bag anyone?

And, they might not know it, but 911, apparently a boyband from the 90s, is still enjoying quite a lot of exposure in Hanoi.

If you can't top the charts, you might as well top a table

They might be gratified to know that while they might not be popular, they are at least useful; supportive, one might say. However, they might not be as pleased to find out that their primary audience in Hanoi is composed mainly of cranky old chain-smoking men who like their opinions strong and their coffee nuclear, and who frequent a hole-in-the-wall Old Man’s cafe, ironically named Cafe Pink.

Pantaloons

I’m convinced that it’s my pants that have shrunk. Yes, all of them. Uniformly.

I am prepared to admit that my steady diet of bún chả and creme caramel (or kem caramen as it is known here) might have had a role to play in aforesaid pant shrinkage. The ability to reduce cotton and polyester fibres is a little-known property of grilled fatty pork and creamy caramelly custard when applied in tandem. I really should write to the scientific journals, and perhaps also the women’s magazines, about this.

But, bún chả, oh you wonderful combination of smokey grilled pork patties and luscious bacon-y pieces, soaking in a slightly sweet and fish-saucy broth, accompanied by tangy green papaya and carrots, with springy rice noodles providing the perfect foil and feisty purple mint and cilantro highlighting the entire eat experience…I wish someone with more talent than me would compose a spoken word ode to your glorious combinations of tastes and textures.

(And if you want to know why you might not have seen this street food dish in Vietnamese restaurants in the West, it’s because it’s a Hanoian speciality and most Vietnamese food in eg Australia, Canada and the US is generally Southern Vietnamese. There you go.)

In the absence of odes, written or sung, here’s some guy’s video of his lunch:

For any Hanoians reading this, my bún chả place of choice is the one on Trần Xuân Soạn, corner of Lò Đúc. Go before 12.30!

What’s what

Tonight, walking home from the bar we came across a slightly shi shi hair salon where a man was getting a haircut, and a lady getting her hair dyed. Apparently in Hanoi it’s too late at 11pm to get another drink, but not too late to get highlights put in. And yes, you puritan sons of mothers, we were having a drink on a Monday night. We’re not going to be this young and handsome forever.

Tadioto

Raison d’etre (and other dried fruits of existence)

I declared that I would write about “Hanoi, bikes and ice-cream” when I was trying to lure you into this blog. I think so far I’ve achieved, in any detail, only one of the abovementioned. Too bad for you!

However, they say a picture is worth a thousand words, so here’s at least twenty three thousand words for you on the humble, workaday, infinitely useful, social, thoughtful, glorious, theatrical, botanical and Hello Kitty…presenting, Xe Dạp của Việt Nam!

Xe Dap – Bikes

(Don’t get too excited: personally, I like this album, but I’ve also been known to like Adam Sandler movies.)

Sapa and Bac Ha revisited

So I’m trying something new here. I hope it works (I’d go with a full-screen slideshow, on a big screen TV, but that’s just me):

Sapa and Bac Ha, Jan 2010

Walk and chew gum

Apparently I can’t do more than one thing at once, which means the blog takes a bit of a hiatus. Apologies!

I wanted to surface for air a little with these testimonials to the chillier weather. You know it’s cold when “Hiphop fashions” make an appearance:

dog IN a tuckerbox

And it’s not just the tiny dogs neither. This city is serious about keeping all its residents warm:

Next stop: matching tracksuit pants

North by northwest

There’s so much I want to say about the weekend I spent in the mountainous north west of Vietnam, near China. Up in Sapa, everyone goes on about the terraced rice fields that cascade down the mountains. For certain, these are incredible, not least of all because of the sheer manual labour they represent. But for me – not just me I guess – the towns of Sapa, and Bằc Há were much more about the people (who are mainly comprised of ethnic minorities), and their living-ways.

As I am also trying to watch a Disney movie at the moment, you’ll have to be content with a rather slapdash post and an ultra-quick and completely uncomprehensive photo tour, which does no justice to the panorama that is this part of the world.

There was colour, oh the colour!

Baby backpacking, Flower H'mong styles

There was the traditional, and the motorbike.

What rhymes with bikes and girls?

There were water buffaloes and their surprisingly dainty eyelashes.

Coy

There were the biggest woks in the world.

Man-sized

There were the cutest babies in the world.

I'm not sure he approves of the hat

And there was Dzao, our tiny feisty H’mong guide. She speaks H’mong and Vietnamese, and taught herself English, French and Spanish. She left school three years ago. Dzao’s only 14 years old, but this girl could lead a revolution.

Dzao, and her village

Chúc mừng năm mới!

2010! Surely that’s a made-up year. And why are we not all wearing aluminium jumpsuits and rocket boots?

I’m not sure how long after the event of new year’s day you can keep wishing people a happy new year, but I’m pretty sure January 5th…oh wait, it’s just now the 6th, is still within that period, so happy new year everyone!

I’m feeling pretty pleased with myself as I’ve already fulfilled one of the goals I’d set for this year, and that was to keep pace with my co-workers at lunch. I think if I had to summarise the Vietnamese way, it would be “walk slow eat fast”. But today, I did it! I wasn’t a bowl and a half of rice behind! Mind you, it required me to completely ignore the conversation and not waste time on trivialities such as breathing.

However, I think that particular glorious moment is going to be a one-off because, in order to achieve this, I violated basically the only resolution I’ve made for the new year. Which is: To Chew Properly. I’m quite serious. If there is only one lesson I’ll take from my time here it is the importance of being present, and purposeful, in the moment. And I have to say, it’s mainly being in the traffic that’s taught me (the joy) of this practice.

So from now on, I’m going to do that. Starting with chewing my food with consideration and calm intent. I’ll lose pace, but that’s ok, because I know I’m going to gain flavour.

Here, now

I’m at the point now where I can see the end of my time in Hanoi, and I’m starting to get that ache-y miss-y feeling already, especially the uncomplicated warmth of people I have met. There’s so much more I want to say, but the first post of the year is not the time for that, so…I’ll just gloat a bit about spending New Year’s Eve drinking suspicious lemon rum on the Mekong River in a floating hotel near the border of Cambodia.

“If you can’t sing good, sing loud”

I gotta say, it’s a bunch of firsts for me this year this silly season.  In many ways, with all its bizarro-world oddness, Christmas in Hanoi is Christmas without the baggage – kind of like experiencing Christmas (or, as I should say, ChristKwanzaaNukkahSolstice) as you might have when you were a kid.

To start with, I also don’t think I’ve ever been at work on Christmas Day before. It’s actually not so bad. So far it’s consisted of lunch, coffee and blogging, and minimum Christmas-related stress. Christmas, without the stress? How novel.

I’ve also never seen so many skinny Santas before – and on motorbikes! Also, the hilariously vigorous use of fairy lights and other public flashing and rotating things beats anything I’ve ever seen in terms of volume and enthusiasm (although I guess I’ve never spent Christmas in, eg Times Square or at Yonge and Dundas). The energy used to light up the exterior of this little church on the way home from work to my place could probably be used to power a short flight from, say Hanoi to, well, just outside of Hanoi. But still…

Hanoians seem to be embracing the concept of Christmas with great energy and gusto. As I said, there are multiple marauding no-butt-no-gut Santas, flashing colourful things, fibre optic purple Christmas trees and the soothing techno-beats of Christmas carols Hanoi-styley. And that’s just my next door neighbour!

(Nothing gets a person in that Yuletide state of mind quicker than hearing “Winter Wonderland” sung slowly and soulfully, while underscored with a looped untz-untz-untz-untz track. It’s magic.)

I really do love that this city embraces any opportunity to get together to eat, drink and get out and about. Who cares about the why or how? We’re alive and no one is trying to kill us! Let’s party! Loudly and brightly!

And on that note, happy holidays everyone! I hope that you’re living it, and loving it, as gaudily and unashamedly as Hanoi is.

UPDATE:

Some belated pics from Christmas:

It's not sincere if it's not blinding

Santa takes a break