A Year In Indochina: Getting to know Hanoi

Another busy day in Hanoi. I have been gaining a better impression of the city and have become more fond of it. We woke up to rain this morning but by the time we had eaten breakfast it had died down and the air was cool and fresh, perfect for a walk through the leafy boulevards of the French Quarter. We visited the brilliant Vietnamese Women's Museum in which we watched an insightful film clip about women street vendors working in Hanoi. These women usually come from villages on the outskirts of cities and have to work in the city for weeks at a time, staying overnight in hostels, to support their children and husbands back home. We made a transaction with one of these women back in the Old Quarter; my mum purchased a bundle of lilies wrapped in newspaper to give to a friend, Nguyet, who we had a lunch date with.

Nguyet is a wonderful woman who looked after me when I was unwell on my last visit to Hanoi with Jessica. Moreover I had arranged to meet her to find out more about the student sponsorship programme she has been coordinating since 1996. Nguyet works at the University of Hanoi teaching English and Vietnamese; she began to notice the malnutrition of some of her students who came from ethnic minority groups and shared this information with a Finish friend who worked for the UNICEF nutrition programme. With this woman's support and encouragement, Nguyet took on the role of a coordinator between her friend's contacts who wished to help impoverished Vietnamese students and the students of her class. At this time this was a politically risky thing to do, but the programme has snowballed and has helped over 1,000 students in almost two decades. The students she helps through her programme call Nguyet 'mummy'.

She invited us to a wonderful design shop called Tan My and encouraged us to spend some time looking at the products across three floors, before recommending we order the house's Bun Cha (barbecued pork, noodles and herbs) to eat. We chatted for a good deal of time. Nguyet opened her heart to us and her story was fascinating; I feel thrilled to be able to document it in my book.

After this wonderful encounter we crossed the Old Quarter and had a look around the military museum. Mum and I wanted to head up to the West Lake, by far the largest lake in Hanoi, but Crystal decided not to accompany us as her hair was in need of pampering at the salon. The two of us carried on and chanced upon a Bia Hoi place where freshly brewed weak beer is served with peanuts on little plastic tables by the roadside. We enjoyed this refreshment and watched with interest as a beautiful hen clucked around inside the shop and was picked up and carried away by an intoxicated gentleman.

We carried on, approaching the West Lake, and saw a barbecue on the road ahead. "Smells lovely", commented Mum, who is a vegetarian.
I looked closely. "Is that a dog?"
"No," mum said. But then she paused and looked longer. The body seemed quite slim for a pig's... and it did seem to have small ears... and fangs.
"Oh dear".

We moved on. Dog is a delicacy in north Vietnam reserved for wedding banquets. However, I had presumed this was not a widespread custom and would not be displayed publicly. This was quite eye-opening.

We enjoyed walking around the West Lake and did so until it became dark and our legs ached. Then we took a taxi back to the hotel before going for tea (Crystal did not join us). Afterwards my mum told me she fancied a walk around the Old Quarter and maybe a coffee. I agreed on the condition that we didn't walk too far as I was tired. We found a nice place to have a drink on a road corner. Here we watched a woman selling fruit trying to flog the rest of her goods before the end of the day. We had learnt earlier at the women's museum that most street vendors will finish by 5-7pm, after a day that begins with visiting the market at 2-4am. By now it was around 8.30pm and this poor woman must have had a long day. But she didn't show it behind the big smile she wore for potential customers.

Neither of us were sure of our location but Mum relied on my supposed "good sense of orientation" to get us back to the hotel. What she didn't know is that I am useless without a map, which I had left in our room. I offered such comforting suggestions as "Getting lost in the Old Quarter is an essential Hanoi experience according to Lonely Planet" as we rounded a corner to find ourselves back at the cafe we had started at, honking motorbikes whipping past. We eventually made it home but she is not best pleased with me now.