The Concrete Jungle

Hanoi, the capital city of Vietnam, is much like what one might expect from a large city in Asia: full of people, people on scooters. In fact, even the people who are not currently riding their scooter, still wear a helmet. Perhaps this is meant to be fashionable, possibly it's to alleviate the burden of carrying it in one's hands; but more than likely, it's a safety precaution.

Hanoi is indeed a jungle, not in the Vietcong hiding in the tropical trees sort of way, or the Forrest Gump running through the tall grass carrying a dying Bubba, or the "me love you long time" sort of way that movies have led us to believe. It is instead a concrete jungle, where they have given every lunatic a scooter to drive around in a city with few traffic control devices. These maniacs wander around aimlessly, with the sole purpose of honking their horn until it breaks on them, producing a dull sounding wheez...no matter though, because within hours your senses are so overloaded with the incessant noise and 'exotic scents' (as our guide book so romantically described these putrid smells), that you become numb. To add to the numbness, we just happened to arrive in Hanoi during a freak storm that dropped temperatures to 50 year lows; more unfortunately our hotel wasn't blessed with the modern convenience of "air-con" (the term that applies to both hot and cold air conditioning).

In Hanoi, just crossing the street is a complicated process. First, you must make a list of pros and cons to evaluate how badly you need to get to the other side of the street...there are four blocks that you can explore safely without ever having to plunge yourself into the street. But if you do decide to take the plunge, it's as if you've entered a real life game of frogger. You'll find yourself stepping forward a few steps, then jumping back, and at some point when you realize you've passed the point of no return, you take a leap of faith to the other side. At the same time you breathe a sigh of relief for having made it through the battleground known as the street, you realize you've entered an even more chaotic zone commonly referred to as the sidewalk. Here you'll dodge open flames, parked scooters (you can really never get away from them, not even inside), and worst of all: the pushy Vietnamese. These are a people who will push you shamelessly if you are in their way, literally hit you to get your attention, and tickle you if they want you to buy something. There's really nothing more annoying.

(The Murky Hoan Kiem Lake)

Ater a few hours in Hanoi, we were already craving some relief, so we begun our search for a sanctuary...which, according to our guide book, was at the nucleus of it all: Hoan Kiem Lake. This small lake is right in the center of town, colored green from algae, and is the fabled home of giant tortoises. Crossing a short red bridge to a tiny island provided some relief as the sound from horns seemed to fade (although never completely). On the island is a strategically located Pagoda, the holy home of Vietnamese Buddhist monks. Yet, in this Pagoda exists the ultimate paradox: a souvenir shop. Instead of monks taking the "middle path" to an enlightened state of mind, free of wants and desires, and chanting melodically to pass the time; people (even monks), are shopping.

Try and look beyond the laundry list of complaints from a traveller who has been on the road now for over 3 months to see the moral, Hanoi stinks. I'm sorry, but it had to be said so that future travelers don't make the same mistake we did. On to greener pastures.