21 January 2008 [soon to be 22 January]
It's three minutes before midnight and if I hope to stay awake for Dr. Le and for my final class tomorrow I need to sleep very soon. But I started thinking about what I needed to say in my last entry from Vietnam as I changed into my pajamas and realized I never wrote about silly things like strategies for sleeping in beds like boards and brushing teeth with bottled water, no less what we've been doing since Hoi An. So impressions and activities first and then tying up the trip…
We haven't seen the sun since Hoi An which was about a week ago. What provides the color in this section of Hanoi in the gloom, cold and rain are the contents of baskets –bright tangerines with green leaves, rosy red dragon fruit and fresh cuts of meat, yellow pineapples and bananas, creamy potatoes, green betel fruits, sometimes paper trash (for recycling?). The fruit is usually stacked carefully in flat or shallow baskets hanging from the ends of a pole made from a long slice of bamboo and balanced on a shoulder. The bamboo is flexible and the baskets seem to float up and down as the carriers move down the sidewalks weaving through the crowds. Sometimes there's one deep basket balanced on someone's head, covered with a burlap sack protecting a pile of baguettes, now a Vietnamese staple. It's generally women carrying the baskets – peddlers mostly, with wares they hope desperately you will buy. They come singly or in twos, and if they find a likely place for sales, they'll set their wares on the sidewalk and sit down between the baskets. They share the sidewalks with a variety of street cafes… sometimes just a woman with a teapot, a few stools and perhaps a low table, and sometimes five or six tables with chairs, and the tools and ingredients for making the ubiquitous pho, rice noodles cooked in beef soup. Always available are fish sauce, soy sauce, chilis and garlic to create your own desired flavoring for the soup. On these cold days (rain and 52 today), many people are hunkered down over their bowls of hot broth, particularly at breakfast and lunchtime. Vigorous conversations take place, either between companions or between noodle consumer and provider. With the rain, flat tarps have been strung to keep the mist and larger droplets to a minimum while dining and the taller foreigners need to be watchful as they move down the sidewalk so as not to bump into the ropes.
We arrived in Hanoi about 5am after a 13 hour train ride during the night Thursday. Despite CET's best efforts to reserve rooms for us on our arrival, we were only able to check in slowly over the morning and afternoon. But the early room holders shared, and most people had a chance to nap while waiting. We had a walking tour of this section of the city (near the “old quarter” or “old town”) including the infamous Hanoi Hilton and a cathedral and a small lake. We had a lecture from Dr. Le, a historian specializing in ancient Vietnam and the history of Hanoi , and some FFF discussion. Tomorrow both classes meet for the last time.
A variety of meals have been arranged and we've compared southern Pho with northern, and had fresh and fried egg rolls, greens, pork stewed in clay pots, minced pork on rice crackers, salads, and fish and chicken in various guises. Most recently, we've had two and a half unscheduled days (the second inadvertently since the museums scheduled for today are closed on Mondays) which have been mostly spent on trying to finish up academic projects – the students writing 2 summaries and reflections for readings on the history of Vietnam and Hanoi, and preparing summary questions for FFF and their final journal entries. I've been grading same as they come in, and working to compile a DVD of group photos and writings, both for memories and to provide materials which might help people process during re-entry. It's been really interesting to compile the photo show for the farewell banquet and see how people have changed physically over the last 5 months – and I know the changes inside have been immense. When people need a break from reading and writing they have gone off to find hats, scarves and mittens because it's chilly and rainy here – probably in the 50s and low 60s but since the Vietnamese are decked out as if it's winter and since it's the coldest we've been since last winter, we've joined in. No one wants colds to mar their homecoming and the lack of central heating has everyone sitting in the hotel lobby all bundled up to access the internet.
So indulge me a minute and let me discuss two silly things – first how to make a bed soft enough for my bones to sleep on without cutting off circulation to my hands and having them “sleep” in a different fashion and waking up with numbness: It's easy if you don't have a roommate – just steal the comforter from the other bed and fold it in half under your blanket and sheet… if you're fortunate it will be sufficiently large to fold in thirds. Make a bedroll of your sheet and blanket to put on top. Insert yourself and sleep well. This system worked in China and Thailand where the beds were like boards; first guesthouse in Vietnam the bed was soft enough, but in Hanoi I have had to remember my ways. The other thing is how to brush your teeth with bottled water. Again, we were in Thailand sufficiently long that most of us were comfortable rinsing off our toothbrushes with tap water and letting them dry before using them again (and probably some rinsed their mouths with tap water as well). But in a new country with new bacteria, it's back to the bottled water technique – put a bit of water from the bottle in your mouth, add toothbrush with paste. Brush vigorously and spit. Put water in your mouth, add pasty toothbrush and rinse both mouth and brush, spit. Put more water in mouth, add brush and rinse again, spit. By this time, your mouth will probably be sufficiently rinsed and you'll only need to rinse your brush with a minimum of water. When you're paying for the water and it comes in plastic bottles, this procedure uses the least amount.
It's now January 23, and we had a day trip to Halong Bay . It was our last long bus ride (3.5 hours each way spent sleeping by many and grading by one) and I delighted in being out of the city and on the water. The sun actually peaked through at one point and it was warmer than anticipated. Halong Bay has little mountains popping up all throughout, and the summer-shot postcards show incredible turquoise waters surrounding the peaks. I enjoyed the little boats that came up alongside ours to sell fruit and other snacks, many handled by young parents with their kids along. And, birds! Halong Bay is famous for eagles and at one point today there were 8 soaring in the frame of my binocs. Mr. Ang, in Hoi An, told me they would be black eagles – but since I left my bird guide with him (anticipating he'll use it much more in Vietnam than I will in Northfield), I have to take it on faith until I can look them up in a friend's guide at home. It was reminiscent of watching eagles in the winter along the Mississippi River and reawakened hunger for watching birds I know (and the field guide with which I am familiar). There were also a few gulls, which I have rarely seen along these coasts. And this evening, students are off and about looking for dinner and last minute purchases.
I have worked very hard to focus on the moment, and to appreciate where I am and what I'm doing in Hanoi . But I've finally succumbed to all the conversations about returning (although I don't have to worry about which dorm I'm in or what to do about classes that didn't work out at registration or whether my cell phone will work in said dorm…), and made my own list of What I'm Looking Forward To After I Greet My Daughters and Friends. It may differ a bit from those of the students: taking off the money belt and loosing responsibility for so much cash that's not mine; putting away the first aid kit and shredding all the medical forms; having an oven and the ingredients to create wonderful aromas with it; having a much needed haircut; washing my underwear, socks, jeans and shirts in a machine, not the sink (yeah, yeah – I need to do it in a sink to save energy, but give me at least two good washes first. I'll still try to hang it to dry after the first time); going to the public library and the food co-op, talking with colleagues and teaching about research; sleeping on memory foam with a down comforter over me and two cats on my feet; having a good reading light and a chair in which to curl up; using internet that works when and where I want it (yes, spoil me!); and gathering with a few good friends for games and conversation. I will miss many things as well: teaching your students and reading their wonderful journals; having things that catch my eye all the time and beg to be photographed; walking out the door and finding a variety of foods which are affordable, ready to eat and delicious; watching the infinite variety of ways to carry, and things to carry in, a huge load on a motorbike (from coffins to pigs, chickens and ducks to a family of 5 to mountains of produce to cabinets to…) and my constant companion this month, the German cable channel which alternates news shows in German and English.
And so, my faithful readers, I hope you can now become faithful and patient listeners. Your students and I will be arriving on Saturday night (most of us, that is. One is returning to Thailand , several are going to a variety of states, from California to Montana to Wisconsin ). Everyone has lists of what we want to do and eat right away, ranging from steak or vegetarian dinners to homemade chocolate chip cookies and “real” milk. We're looking forward to putting on the hats, mittens, boots and down jackets you're bringing to the airport, and to being able to talk your ears off on the way home in the car, or conversely, having you be willing to wait until the details begin to bubble out. Some may feel they've told you everything all along and some may feel it's too much to tell at all, or not know what to tell. But as they pull out their pictures and unpack their treasures, there will be stories for each. And, to prime the pump (either for listening or questions to get things going), there is one last set of journal entries included about Vietnam and heading home.
It's been a pleasure to write to you and I hope you've enjoyed reading. This will be one other thing that I'll miss – the wider communication this blog/webpage/letter has engendered throughout the last five months. Thank you for sharing.
Kris