The Honeymoon is Over

This is my last night in Hanoi, which means that the orientation is over, my new found family is being splintered across Vietnam and I am about to go off on my own. It’s part excitement and sadness. 10 of the 15 ETAs have left (10 goodbyes in 2 days is intense) and the other 5 of us depart tomorrow. We have all grown to depend on each other and we deeply care about and support each other especially after seeing each other everyday for a month. Now I get to restart the process in Cao Lanh. However, this time I won’t have 14 other equally disoriented, hot, and minimal Vietnamese speaking Americans to bond with. In the coming weeks I will relay on the training I have received and continue to be open to new people and experiences.

The Fulbright office celebrated the completion of orientation with an elaborate dinner at Brother’s Café on Friday. It’s an open courtyard surrounded by traditionally carved buildings and canvased by tons of Christmas lights and Gingko trees. The buffet was outstanding and the wine was free and never ending. The waiters refilled our glasses the minute they were half empty…I lost count of how much Chardonnay I consumed. Suffice it to say I left feeling happy and I was zinned on the train to Sa Pa.

Chi Diu and the 5 guys. Chi Diu is the assistant for the ETA program so she was the one handling all of our frantic emials in the months before we arrived. She's a saint!

We (me and 9 other ETAs) took the sleeper train overnight to Sa Pa. The train was 20 cars of sleepers, which are cabins with 4 bunks called berths. It should be noted that these berths are built for a Vietnamese sized person. As such I wedged my 6’ American frame corner to corner and stretched the equally short comforter tip to tip from my nose to my great toe. The cabins did have AC but the restrooms didn’t. Instead the restrooms featured a huge window extending from the toilet beyond to the sink and given that it was nighttime it was like being a fish in a bowl. Since I was coming from dinner was not dressed in comfy sleeping clothes appropriate for a 9-hour train ride. Thus I tried to discreetly change in the bathroom….it didn’t work. I was jostled back and forth and fumbled in and out the clothes tripping over the toilet and constantly slamming into the sink. Thus Hanoi got an excellent view of my front side and backside, the whole package. When the train stopped I peeled myself up off the floor to find that we had stopped on a bridge overlooking the night market when I proceeded to very quickly yank up my shorts. Is this what the State Department meant as American ambassadorship? It surely wasn’t cultural exchange…beyond the bruises I got nothing in return for my little show. I entered the bathroom feeling hot, I left feeling a different kind of hot; hot and bothered. At 5 am the next morning we arrived in Sa Pa.

Sa Pa is located in the northwest corner of Vietnam on the boarder with China. I know I have raved about this country but this takes the cake (at least so far). Imagine mountains thousands of feet tall…so tall that they disappear in the clouds. Along the sides of the mountains rice terraces step back and up past the clouds and from a distance they appear like a fingerprint, perhaps a cosmic or an omnipresent fingerprint if you know what I mean. FYI I’m not religious though I was raised Christian; Presbyterian more specifically, and I am scientist by training but it makes you think and ponder. These pictures don’t do it justice because it surrounds you in all dimensions and the scale is absurd. The mountains reach skyward and the valleys disappear into raging torrents of rivers and waterfalls. All of this is wrapped in terraces dotted by farmers, huts, bridges, villages and the ever-present high voltage power lines.

Two baby goats. So cute.

The yellow building is the local school...I don't know about you but I would've spent 12 years lookin out the window.

The only downside is oddly the people. They are very kind but there entrepreneurial spirit borders on harassment. When you leave the main town 2 or 3 local women/girls dressed in ethnic clothes (per member of your group) tell you that they will lead to the village. Along the way they share stories about their town, their lives and inquire if you are married, dating, or single. Then they may offer you a fine lady to correct the emptiness on your ring finger. Once you get to their village they surround you and split up the group and start shoving their goods in your face. They tell you that they have led to the village so you must buy. Or they are hungry or poor (though some have iPhones), or their ethnic group is discriminated against, etc. If you say no they keep on going, it doesn’t stop. You can be polite, say no thank you, find the most polite and creative way to say no and it doesn’t work. Our tour guide did say they would be persistent and that we were under no obligation to buy…but he grossly understated the lair we were walking into. I was able to extricate myself without buying anything. But toward the end of our meal at the restaurant they came to our table and specifically targeted us and me. This time I was done being polite and done being harassed for my wallet. I looked squarely at the women, gave her my big city don’t F**K with me look and very firmly raised my voice and said no. It scared her off.

To be clear what these women are doing is illegal, but there are not enough police to enforce the laws that protect tourists from this harassment. But if police do see women or men hawking their products to tourists and following them the villagers are beaten to make an example. Personally I didn’t like the attempt to pull the wool over my eyes and being treated like a dumb westerner. If you want to lead me to your village with the intention of me reciprocating by buying a good from you, then tell me up front because what we entered into is a contract. Don’t ad hoc in a ridiculously overpriced and under made goods at the end attempting to guilt and or distort me of my money. What’s interesting about this is that these ethnic minorities never did this until tourism to Sa Pa exploded. Prior to the 2000s the minorities only wore traditional clothes for wedding, holidays and funerals. They worked in the fields and sent their children to school. Once tourism began the government gave each minority a shop in the major town to sell goods and made laws against harassing tourists. This worked well until 1 ethnic group (and there’s debate about which one) started following the tourists and getting the sales, so then everybody else started to follow the tourists to get the sales. It’s the steroids argument; if I don’t do it I will lose out so I must do even tough it’s wrong and illegal.

What was more enjoyable was going to the Bac Ha Market on Sunday. Here all the minorities have stalls and you can bargain for the goods without being entrapped by a gang. They have a textiles section, a section to buy fruits and vegetables and a section to buy animals (water buffalo, chickens, ducks, pigs, dogs, cats and birds). We finished our time in Sa Pa with a river ride down the Red River and a quick glance at China.

Duck anybody?

You have three options. Light, medium and dark brown. FYI this was the most fragrant section of the market. I didn't linger.

Upon my arrival back in Hanoi Monday morning I returned to work at the AC and taught Monday and Wednesday and attended one final day of orientation on Tuesday. I am off to bed to get sleep before my flight tomorrow to HCMC and then onward to Cao Lanh. Goodbye Hanoi and good night readers.

A Wonderful Birthday Surprise

I just returned from my run around Hồ Hoàn Kiếm Lake and had to blog this. Literally just as I was about to leave the hotel I had a knock on my door. I opened it and to my shock the hotel staff was holding a cake with candles singing me Happy Birthday! I usually try to keep my B-day on the down low so I was flabbergasted and stood there with my mouth hanging open through the whole song. The staff at the Rising Dragon Grant Hotel (24 Hang Ga Street, Old Quarter, Hanoi) is the best hotel staff I have ever experienced. They are so friendly, kind and helpful. We [The Fulbrighters] love them so much that they are extended Fulbright family. We had a party with them last week and went to karaoke afterwards. I am going to miss these bright faces in Cao Linh. I have to run and get ready to head to the Opera House. About 6 of us are catching Beethoven and Brahms tonight followed by some vino afterwards. Then it's on to cake! Thank Staff of the Rising Dragon. You guys rock!

So Cool. BTW I love the swine. Plus he's practicing good sun safety!

A Night At the Opera

Last Saturday night we went to the Hanoi Opera to hear Rachmaniov’s Piano Concerto No. 2 and Symphonic Dances. It was the Vietnamese premier of the later piece! The concert was wonderful and it was great to go with the other ETAs (13 out of 15 of us went). The orchestra was wonderful, the conductor less so, more on that later. First I must set the stage (yep I went there).

The Hanoi Opera House was built by the French, big surprise right?! It was built between 1901 and 1911 and occupies the head of the square across from the modern Hanoi Stock Exchange. Now let’s play a game. Guess what this building looks like? If anybody said the Opera Garnier de Paris (AKA Palais Garnier or Paris Opera) you’re right! The facades are nearly identical and the interior is very similar.

The Hanoi Opera House. Remind you of another famous opera house? Hint: It's the home of a mythical Phantom. He calls himself the Angel of Music.

There she is. The most famous opera house in the world, the Paris Opera. Looks like the grand older sister of the Hanoi Opera right? The spoils and luxuries of being the imperialist colonizer.

The similarities continued inside. Above is the grand staircase of the Hanoi Opera. A scaled down version of the atrium below. 

The grand staircase of the Paris Opera. It drips with decadence and it's the most understated public room in the Opera House. It serves as the scene of the Masquerade Ball in the Phantom of the Opera.

The major architectural difference is the Opera’s style. The Garnier is Beaux-Arts with High Empire finishing (with lots of Napoleon III thrown in). The Hanoi Opera is very toned down and exhibits a restraint that is refreshing to see from the French. The Hanoi Opera has 592 seats (compared to 2,000 at the Granier) spread across the orchestra, a traditional European-style stalled mezzanine and a top balcony. More pictures of the Hanoi Opera below.

The domed, gilded and frescoed cieling of the Hanoi Opera.

Me and some of the ETAs in the balcony. The bronzed proscenium arch in the background. You can tell it's Rachmaninov when the entire stage is full. Russian composer = HUGE orchestra. Gotta love it!

Like I have written the concert was wonderful, almost…minus some ill-timed applause. I am warning you now this is a pet peeve of mine so I am going to climb on my soapbox and I would get the children and pets out of the room. Ready? Here we go down the rabbit hole.

WHAT IS UP WITH THE APPLAUDING BETWEEN MOVEMENTS? COME ON PEOPLE!

I love opera, ballet and classical music and frequent these performances so I readily understand the “culture” and etiquette of the theater. I don’t expect everybody to and this maybe their first performance. BUT the program (written in both English and Vietnamese) asked repeatedly for those in the hall to hold applause until the conclusion of the piece. If this confused you, you could count the number of movements, realize there are 3 movements so there are 2 times when the orchestra will stop playing and I shouldn’t applaud. Let’s say somebody doesn’t do this research or reading. Then wouldn’t it behoove the green grasshoppers to wait and see what the rest of the hall does? If you leap to applaud and NOBODY in the rest of the hall does, isn’t that an indication that you should cease your ill-time awkwardness.

One would think, yet this theory doesn’t really hold any water. In the back of the balcony applause floated down between the first and second movements of the Concerto, but none between the second and third, foolishly I thought they had picked up on the etiquette ques. WRONG! During the Dances they applauded between all three movements, this time seemingly not noticing or willfully ignoring the uncomfortable shuffles and disapproving sideways glances of other patrons. Then during a single beat rest, one person let out a single clap (clearly thinking the piece was over and intending to launch into a round of applause) and I swear you could feel the contempt fly from every patron in house toward that top balcony. That prevented any additional uncouth claps, and you could feel the person wither into their seat. After nearly 2 hours in the hall they finally got it. Don’t clap between movements. Don’t do it. And don’t clap during a rest in the bar. Just don’t do it.

Now to the ill-timed person’s benefit the conductor wasn’t very clear. He had the horrid habit of dropping both his elbows and hands immediately after every movement to turn the page. Most conductors will hold their elbows out or maintain a stiff back during the page turn (or long enough to make it clear that this is a movement change). As a result if one didn’t know, or read, or do prior research, or pick up on the glances and murmurs, and miss the fact that in a hall of 500+ they are the only ones clapping, the conductor’s body language was unclear at best. The soapbox session is now over. Thank you for reading. The oddest part of the evening was the blatant and open videotaping of the performance and picture taking with flash and shutters loud enough to hear. The ushers did nothing. In America (and Australia) this would have resulted in their immediate ejection from the hall…but not here. Of course I am in a country where you can buy the photocopied version of almost any book and find the bootlegged version of a movie for dirt-cheap prices all over the place. Intellectual property laws are yet to make their way here apparently.

On Sunday Koua (another ETA) and I took in some museums in Hanoi. It was our first day off that we spent in Hanoi. We visited the Vietnamese Ethnology Museum and the Revolution Museum. The Ethnology Museum was fascinating. It had exhibits about all 54 ethnic groups in Vietnam including artifacts, videos, clothing and other items. Behind the museum they had a number of houses, tombs and meeting houses that had been transported across the country and rebuilt on the Museum’s grounds representing the larger ethnic groups. 

The Ethnology Museum.

The Revolution Museum was more somber. It’s an extension of the History Museum which and is focused on the period from French occupation through reunification (the liberation of Ho Chi Minh City on July 30, 1975). Quick note: your language reveals your politics. If you say Saigon (rather then HCMC) or refer to July 30, 1975 as the Fall of Saigon (and not the liberation or reunification), it's very clear which side you're on. We [the ETAs] were warned accordingly. 

In the Revolution Museum you start on the second floor and work your way down to the first. The Museum is extensive. The second floor was interesting and dealt with the French, meanwhile all I could think was “when do we [the Americans] make our grand entrance”? That would be the first floor. I know this was one sided, as it should be, and I know it was war; but this sent chills down my spine and made me violently sick at times. The images of grinning American soldiers standing over dead children and women, images of bodies stacked high at My Lai (347 Vietnamese peasants killed at the hands of US soldiers), starving Bui Doi, the panic during the seizing of Saigon with mothers giving up their children desperate to save them in Operation Babylift, and the worst was the bodies of Vietnamese dragged behind US Tanks through the streets. It was horrifying and so utterly shameful. I am getting hot and choked up writing this.

Regardless of your personal persuasions about the American war the actions taken by both sides were horrible and in some cases reprehensible and excessive even under the auspices of war. What kills me most is that America in Vietnamese is Mỹ, which can also be translated to mean well-intentioned, good natured or beautiful. Really after seeing that? I know that American servicemen died and suffered at Vietnamese hands as POWs and I know that they were also mistreated and wronged. I don’t want to start a blogosphere war about the ins and outs of this war or what it means for Vietnam or America. I don’t know enough to comment on that. All I can comment on is my experiences and it was deeply cutting to see this and have to confront a significant and unavoidable part of my nation’s legacy in this country. In that moment I struggled to be proud of my country and what we claim to stand for. It was uncomfortable, degrading, conflicting and loathsome.

On to happier things, (Thank God right! Yeah I know what you're thinking) I finished my medical school secondary apps. Yippee! I may have one or two joint degree apps left to do but I am awaiting definitive directions from those schools before I complete those apps. Also I taught at a Vietnamese university yesterday and lead a lesson at the AC (American Center) today. I team taught with 2 other ETAs at the university and 1 other ETA today at the AC. The lessons focused on modal use and rhyming structure respectively. I have realized that I tend to talk too fast, something for me to work on. It was great fun teaching and very exhausting. The best part of this month long orientation is all the teaching practice the Embassy has built into our schedules. I love it!

Unfortunately this is my last week of orientation and it’s so sad. I feel like I just found my stride in Hanoi and I leave in 1 week for my province. I cross the streets now with out batting an eye, I know the local haunts, the times to go running and now I have to leave. The worst part is that my Fulbright Family (it’s a self-bestowed term the 15 ETAs have given ourselves) is about to be broken up. Somebody cue the tissues…or toilet paper (tissues are not very common here so I have been blowing into the roll).

Have a great week readers. I will post about my Sapa adventures next week. Some museum pictures may be on their way and I will update this post if need be. Xin Chao.