Sunday, November 18, 2007

(16): Last Day in the Greatest City in the World

(*) this was to be our last day in hanoi. this was going to be monumentally depressing. upon your first wide eyed arrival in hanoi, you have no idea what to believe. your brain cannot take it. your brain is overcome with stimuli from all your senses - sight, sound, smell, touch, and whatever else you can muster. it truly is amazing. from the minute you step within the bounds of hanoi the city, you never get a silent moment. it is strange because in chicago, there are certain places you can accidentally find yourself in, where for the most part, silence reigns supreme. or at least you can get those few moments where you can sit with yourself and enjoy a zen like moment.

well, the amazing thing about hanoi, is that none of those fucking places exist in hanoi. at first, its annoying. irritating. and eventually infuriating. you just want one damn minute of peace & quiet to yourself. but then, for whatever reason that escapes my analysis, it becomes a part of the city's overall charm. if i ever had to live in hanoi, i think i would hang myself after not too long in my apartment just to allow silence in my head. but in terms of a city through which one is traveling, it gives you everything you need, crave, and desire. there is never a boring or dull moment. there is always somewhere else to go and visit and view. there is constantly something to be discovered or to be seen that you had not found in your days before. its a beautiful city upon which a traveler may write their words on the face of today.

with that said, we had one last day to make our mark in hanoi - not that we had failed to do so up until this point. sarge & myself traveled to the army museum with its outdoor showcase. here is a picture of the flag tower, nestled within the army museum's grounds, followed by a picture of the army museum's grounds taken from the first or 2nd floor of the flag tower.




this represents one of the initially difficult, and still somewhat perturbing thing, to get your mind over when viewing these museums in vietnam. its not necessarily the pieces of warfare displayed by the vietnamese officials. although, the small inscriptions which are next to these american military aircrafts and weapons are somewhat entertaining and are the equivalent of: "the courageous Bob from Infantry Division 3 captured this tank with the use of a towel all for the glory of the people of Vietnam".

instead, if you look at the bottom picture above, you'll see the museum officials attempted to recreate a crash scene of some type of american fighter plane. in actuality, if you read the inscriptions around the "crash site", there are supposedly 2 airplanes the north vietnamese shot down. traveling with sarge, whose father actually fought in the "vietnam war" or the "american war" as they refer to it in vietnam, these types of sites & displays seem almost brutal and disrespectful. a museum is often thought of as sterile because the history it refers to is often so far in the past, it is incapable of being stirred alive in the minds of most visitors. who really gets that teary eyed anymore over the battle of waterloo & its paintings & its statistics? however, when i went to these museums, i saw the flash frame pictures of my teachers & professors who were in the vietnam war & spoke of its complexities & evils & horrors.

i suppose the museum did its job in that i certainly had to reflect on the human cost of war. i was, and still am, confused on whether or not these museums have it right in taking it to the extremes of recreating death scenes to display how they had victoriously defeated such infiltrators. but if i am to think of that, the obvious effective counter argument is that the invading american forces at times forgot or never even chose to think of morals / respect / human cost of life.

i appreciated how the museums in north vietnam discussed the american war / vietnam war because it made me realize, once again, how all 3 governments were wrong: the north vietnamese government, the south vietnamese government, and the united states government. all 3 ideologies underpinning these 3 governments still are wrong. the problem is not the enemy. quite the opposite. all 3 of these governments tend to find themselves labeling the negatives of the other side & demonizing their opponents, instead of merely justifying why they themselves are able to make lives better. once again, it was the idea of "governments" that got in the way of people simply getting along. governments creating conflicts and molding barriers instead of alleviating conflicts and eradicating barriers.

but at least the museum got me thinking, which i think is all we should ever ask out of museums - whether that thought is right or wrong is not the ultimate step of the process. the mere creation of dialogue is critical.

on a side note - as if there were a main point in this from which a "side" may diverge - we had run into rufus at the army museum. we wished each other pleasantries & safe travels as we knew we would probably never see him again. rufus, if you're out there, you're an intense dude. keep on keepin' on.

(*) it is important to recognize that, despite this being our last day in wonderful hanoi, we were dragging ass. we were h-u-n-g-o-v-e-r. every one of our steps was deliberate and measured. no extra energy was espoused for any reason. even our trip up the flag tower turned out to be ridiculous. we got up there - maybe about 7 stories. an interesting note - visitors had not been able to ascend those steps of the flag tower until the past 5 years or so. we stood up there and took in all of hanoi for a good 15 minutes. mainly we did so b/c we were really tired and did not want to walk back down those stairs.

eventually, our eyes had taken in as most beauty of a miniature skyline as we could stand, so we took the stairs back down. except this time, we took the other set of stairs down. well, the person who was working "security" at the top of the tower (ie text messaging with her friends & reading the paper) failed to flag us down & tell us that those steps certainly lead down. they lead us down about 5 flights, or 5/7 of the way down the tower, to a small cove where incense burned. i still have no idea what we stumbled upon or what this stairway's use was. perhaps a small prayer chamber for the guards that were working at the tower - but it was a dead end. dehydrated, hungover, nautious, and unable to feel my legs, when i reached this dead end, sarge thought something went horribly wrong as i let out a "you gotta be fuckin kiddin me".

we laughed at ourselves in a small delirium in this small alcove within the flag tower. then we cried & wept in each others' arms as we realized the dumb tourists would have to walk back up a dizzying 5 floor staircase, and then walk back down the 7 stories or so.

after we finally exited the flag tower, we walked over to the park, and just sat there for a good 30 minutes, wanting to do nothing but sit. here's a picture of how happy we are with our new found seats.



ok, i guess i'm happier than sarge.

in any case, we headed off to the ho chi minh mausoleum. closed. so despite me being to the ho chi minh mausoleum approximately 5 times, i never got to go in & visit uncle ho. but here is a picture or 2 of the outside of his mausoleum - it reminds me of a college quad. minus the students who the night before had absolutely made their parents proud by socializing in the piss & hormonal excess that is the local watering holes.





(*) as the mausoleum was closed, again , this time b/c they were preparing the site for their new year's celebration - the equivalent of america's fourth of july & uncle ho being roughly the equivalent of george washington - sarge & myself decided to give the ho chi minh museum a shot. this ended up being a good call because, as the museum was closing in 30 minutes, they let us in for free. so let this be a lesson to you future travelers - if you show up late enough at certain places, you can be allowed free entry.

at first we went up the exit. we determined this was the wrong way after we had to fight against the flow of human traffic 6 people wide up 4 flights of stairs & saw the "exit" sign. it turns out the museum was a flowing one way only way to walk it. the museum began in this atrium with this impressive statue:



the museum continued through 4 or 5 floors - all very modern and rather impressive for a nation's hero. i say rather because, unfortunately, there were significant portions of the museum that were not in english. i'm not a traveler who expects everything to be in english, but then again, that is why i cannot say this museum was absolutely impressive. all in all, i had absolutely zero complaints for being let into this tribute to a national hero for free.

---------> we are continuously stared at by children in school uniforms. we ourselves seem to be walking museums at times. plus, it doesn't help we have been traveling for a bit and look even extra ridiculous then our normal every day level of ridiculousness.

(*) on our exit out of the museum, once again we ran into rufus. the guy is everywhere. i also ran into my driver friend who i had met a few days earlier when i had waited for sarge to arrive. rufus did not know that i knew my driver friend. rufus, being his intense self, got into a yelling match with my driver friend. i (tried to) apologize to my driver friend, shook his hand, and told him good luck with things. we bid rufus a goodbye as his intensity was a bit much. and then to take things full circle in this area of hanoi, sarge & myself ran into the local who had helped sarge find me the first day sarge ended up in hanoi.

these small social interactions prove the contradictions of the universe: how despite the vastness of the world & the billions of people in it, its still such a small, small world at times. cue the "its a small world after all" disney music.

(*) we went to go pick up our train tickets from the travel agency downtown by the lake for the rest of our trip.

(*) at some point sarge & myself returned to happy guy's restaurant to eat again. happy guy was happy. again.

(*) this time got to the hanoi hilton in time. talk about depressing. this was where the north vietnamese would hold prisoners - locals prior to the american / vietnam war and then including americans during the american / vietnam war. the former prison was set up in a very respectful and thought provoking manner. the original cells still stood where they had been erected since some time in the early 1900's. here is a picture of how they held the prisoners in one large room:



here is a picture of an actual small cell:



i continuously opened and then closed the small little steel flap. it made the most eerie sound in the world. i couldn't get over it. it spent chills down my spine. until sarge told me to shut the hell up and that, it was not perspective changing, but was rather annoying. one man's profanity is another man's lyric.

this is what you would see when you looked into the cell. look carefully.



i knew this was coming each time, and each time i would look into one of these cells, i still jumped a little. the curators' use of these silhouettes in these dark cells formed a significant impact on my psyche.

the hanoi hilton prison is ridiculously situated a stone's throw away from the current modern day hanoi hilton hotel. you are torn in half, as you see over the wall of the prison the amazing degrees of growth, economically, that the city is able to make in only the past 25-30 or so years. then you stare back at where you are standing, and you see a guillotine that was only used 25-30 years ago. that is one of the best things about vietnam - its contradictions and its extremes. the horrors of what humans will do to another in the name of a loose ideology, and the wonders what humans will do with another in the name of development. then you think "hilton" and then, inexplicably without warning, paris hilton pops into your head. your head then explodes, and you die in hanoi, vietnam from a severe brain aneurysm. finally. peace & quiet.

as we sat to enjoy the monument to those who died & were tortured at the hanoi hilton in its courtyard where the prisoners were allowed to interact, it started to rain. refusing to take a motorbike, we got to stepping back to our hostel with a bit of hustle in our step.

once the rain began to downpour, we found ourselves luckily enough in front of the restaurant where i had first ate in hanoi. through sarge, i would learn this was actually a korean restaurant. so i learned in hanoi that not only do i enjoy vietnamese dining, but i also enjoy the korean dining experience. during the thunderstorm, one of the "waitresses" removed a tile of some sort from the sidewalk & began digging feverishly. this lasted for the entirety of our meal. till this day, we still have no idea what the hell she was doing. but the meal was delicious.

(*) we traveled during the middle of the rainy season. there were those doomsdayers who said we would never make it an hour without being rained upon. wrong. it actually rained very few times while we were there, and we had exactly 0 days which were ruined on account of rain. the times where it did rain, we would simply stop under a sidewalk cafe's awning, order a bowl of noodles, a beer, relax for a bit - and by the time both of those liquid enhancements were finished, the rain would be done as well. it was almost like joe pesci's way of telling us as travelers to relax for a bit & take in the day. so thank you joe pesci.

we paid the hostel for our stays there, and took off. the only requirement we had for the evening was to catch our train leaving hanoi, and headed to danang, at 11pm. this gave us ample opportunity to head to Fam's Restaurant for our last night ever of .15 beer night. this also meant that things were about to get dicey - we were creating a combustible cocktail of three dangerous ingredients: (1) cheap alcohol (2) navigation requirements between 2 idiots & (3) time constraints.

well, at least we know how to turn the ordinary, mundane, everyday activities of an individual's life more exciting.

the details left in the journal are somewhat sketchy & not necessarily written legibly. here is what our specialists can decode from the journal entries describing sarge's & sniffles' .15 cent beer night.

(*) we were basically adopted by the vietnamese family. at the end of the night, as they were closing down shop, we were asked if we wanted to eat with the family. now, imagine that.

eat. with. the family. that owns. the restaurant. for free.

they will take the time to cook for you, and allow you to enter their domestic circle.

just try & eat with the family who owns the restaurant down your street. that is basically impossible. that is also a rather sacred time, at least from my familial experiences, when families sit down together to eat. and to invite a set of complete strangers - who are from half way across the world and who cannot communicate in your language - to eat at your dinner table. sarge & myself were completely blown away. not to mention we were drunk @ this point and starving. however, we politely declined, by attempting to explain we did not want to eat and then run to catch our train. but being invited to eat at their table with the entirety of the working family was not necessarily the oddest thing that happened.

let me explain.

myself & sarge were offered to sleep with the 2 waitresses.

let me explain.

we were offered to sleep with the 2 waitresses - by we're guessing either their mother or their aunt - she is referred to as Sister in previous topic discussions. now when i say "sleep", that is kind of exactly what i mean. it was so odd. so so so so odd. Sister comes up to sarge & myself. Sister points at me. she then lays her hands horizontally above her shoulder and moves her neck to the side - making the same gesture a small child would if they want to go to sleep, with the hands held together representing a pillow. so Sister makes this symbol, and then points to me. then, she points to the one waitress. we would later find out she is 20 years old. yes, certain investigatory steps were made - but only out of sheer curiosity. not to be outdone, Sister then points to Sarge, makes the same symbol, and then points to the 19 year old waitress with whom we were more familiar with as she had continuously served us.

sarge & myself immediately looked at each other, said "holy shit", laughed, and then finished our beers out of a sheer inability to do much of anything else. after 20 seconds, we both asked each other, "were we just offered her daughters?" followed by sarge's brilliant, "no way!", accompanied with a fist pound to the knee.



so just to recap here. Sister is in the top left. the girl beneath her is the 19 year old that Sister offered Sarge to "sleep with". i forgot which woman is 20 years old - i think the one that is right in front of me, on the viewer's right.

add more beers, and suddenly myself & sarge are attempting to exchange addresses with the family so we can send them a picture back with a thank you note of some card. this night was probably one of the top 3 nights we had in all of our trip. it was so much fun to realize you do not even need to speak the same language or come from remotely the same area in the world, in order to make new friends and enjoy each other's company.

we asked where the "toilet" was for the restaurant. the 19 year old told us it was just around the corner. well, the only thing right around the corner were the elevated train tracks with a truck parallel parked next to them. so, that became the public urinal for the next however many hours we were there. it was amazing we never got jumped heading back there. not to mention the fact we did not pass out ourselves from the fumes being aired out over three.

although desperately not wanting to leave, we knew we had to do the responsible thing and give ourselves a good 2 hours to make the 30 minute walk to the train station. by this time, we had consumed a good amount of beer. and by good, we mean there were bouts of stumbling with our 50 pound backpacks towards the train station. at the end of our evening, we asked for our check. the 19 year old woman looked at Sister and after some discussion, the end result was 35,000 dong. we were floored. we gave them 50,000 dong and some other pocket shrapnel, and told them thank you. we then giggled our way on to our next adventure.

on our walk to the train station, we attempted to wrap our minds around what had just happened - not only in regards to culturally what happened - but how our .15 beer night special just got even cheaper. granted the beers we were drinking were out of a keg and were very light. sarge & myself are not here to frat boy this one out and say, "dude, we drank x beers and y shots and z pints of snake blood last night". although we could. no, rather, this is only in the honor of proving a fiscal point.

the beers were light and smaller than your average beer served in the states. vietnamese people are a bit tinier, and so use a bit tinier glasses.

we're guessing we each had about 8 beers. so we'll go with 16 beers. 16 beers for 35,000 dong. that's about $2.25 for 16 beers = $.14 beers. i love that country.

(*) we got to the train station in time. sat outside on the sidewalk on my bag, all guangzhou train station style. some old man in a characteristic north vietnamese army hat came up to myself & sarge & started yelling. we laughed. he yelled. we chuckled. he yelled. he then stumbled off. o-k-then.

we went inside. used the pisser for 3,000 dong, bought 2 beers, and ran into the popped collar kid from dragonfly. the one who myself & sarge destroyed at foosball. we had the opportunity to watch some football (soccer) on television inside the train station. then our train came, on time. we boarded. found our overnight sleepers. i finished 1/2 my beer, and decided there was no better time than the current to call it a night.

we declared a good run, and passed out at about midnight. soon we would wake up in danang, where our adventures would continue.

so, in honor of hanoi, here are some random pictures i took that for one reason or another, provide the essence of hanoi.











thank you hanoi.

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