Vietnam - Day 4

Isn't it amazing how adaptable we humans are?  How things so foreign quickly become vaguely familiar and thus alright?  It's like living in Daly City with so much fog: you get use to it and you even sometimes welcome it.  If not,you move.

Yesterday I went to the Temple of Literature, a 15 minute cab ride from the hotel ($2.00 US).  It's a revered place in Vietnam, the site of the first university, almost a shrine to learning, according to the guidebooks.  It's a serene spot with crazy traffic all around, ponds with lily pads, shrines to the elders, beautifully tended gardens, incense, schlocky gift shops, everything you would want in a national monument.  Unfortunately, the serenity was blasted by hoards of teenagers celebrating their graduation from random universities.  It seems it's the place to go to have group photos taken, so there were probably 5 graduating classes in graduation gowns and fancy dresses acting like 18 year old graduates everywhere: loud and self-absorbed.  But it was OK, I expected it.  There were little pockets of space (like in the far back corner) that were quiet and I sat there for a while.

The coolest thing was that outside, in one of the courtyards, there were about 300 photos on display, the top entries into Vietnam's 7th annual photography contest.  Some were manipulated (i.e. Photoshop), some were cliched (kids with balloons) but many of them were incredible.  I spent a good part of an hour walking down the rows, reading where each one was taken and who took it.  There were even photos of Mono Lake and Monument Valley!  And then a remarkable thing occurred: I was looking at one photo taken from the top of a mountain down at a small village (here in Vietnam) with clouds overlaying part of the village, the green of the hills brilliant.  It was a very beautiful photo.  There was a small man standing by it, smiling.  He pointed at the photo and said "so nice."  I agreed: "It is beautiful."  He looked at me and said, "I take this."

With such pride in his voice, and such an obvious reverence for the site, he instantly brought tears to my eyes.  Yes, the picture was beautiful, but that he was standing there, sharing what he had captured on film and that he was willing to point that out to a stranger, it was a wonderful moment.  I wished I had words to tell him how I felt, but it wasn't a moment about me anyway.  It was his moment to soar.  I hope he stood there all day and told everyone that he took that photo.  

I walked back from the Temple to my hood.  And that's when it clicked: suddenly I knew my way around my small part of Hanoi.  When you travel to a big city, sometimes  you have to set something up as a landmark to give  you a sense of where you are in that city.  If it's a city with cranky streets, nothing parallel, it's even more important. In Paris, it's easy: the Eiffel Tower is visible from almost everywhere and it's easy to orient yourself from that.  In Rome, St. Peter's serves the same purpose although it's not always easy to see, but there is always a boulevard that keeps cropping up, or an old Roman ruin that lets you know where you are.

Here in Hanoi, for me, it's the lake.  The Hoan Kiem Lake isn't the biggest lake in the city but it's the closest to my 'hood.  If I know where the lake is, I know where I am.

This morning I needed to find my Sunday night hotel because I need to ask permission to leave one of my small bags there when I take my boat trip on Saturday.  I also needed to find the agency that booked the excursion because I needed to pay the balance. They were somewhat close to each other and it didn't look far on the map, but I am never sure about that.  I started walking and it was apparent that I didn't need the map, I sort of knew where it was and yes!  There it was!  About a half mile from where I am staying now!  And the agency was a couple of blocks from that.  It means that no taxis need to be involved in getting from A to B to C and back to B again.  Then I wandered around town for a while and got back to the hotel without looking at the map again.  What a relief.

What I said at the top of the page, about our adaptability, struck me this morning as I was strolling around town.  The traffic, the random sewage smells, the jostling on the sidewalks, the spitting in the street, all the negative things are all just.... things.  They are part of this city and not my concern.  When we travel we carry judgements with us, like it or not.  We lucky few don't live where the streets are dirty or the smells are uninviting or where the simple act of crossing the street is daunting. It's easy to be negative.  But it's just as easy to give it up. It isn't mine to say whether it is negative or positive, good or bad.  It isn't mine. I am just a visitor here. I have to accept it or go home.

And I am not ready for that yet.

I need to dash down to the breakfast room before they close up!  Back soon.