Postcard from Hanoi- December 26, 2014

So much to tell.  So little time to tell it.

We have visited the Ha Noi home of Mr. Liem and learned the ancient Viet art of water puppetry, and visited the Tho Ha home of Mr. Viet, and learned the art of making rice paper, in which we were trained by Mr. Viet's wife. Not that anyone is about to hire me on as a skilled worker. Lucky Mary was pronounced "qualified" by a market woman who taught her the proper way to peel a potato.  Better yet, she got to play music with Mr. Viet, who has quite a collection of traditional Vietnamese instruments.

We learned the rice paper trade in Tho Ha Village, reached by a very short ferry ride, where most homes are also rice paper workshops.  This is relatively new craft for the village, which until some decades ago was in the clay coffin business. Fifty years ago, Tho Ha ran out of clay, and the government suggested they switch to rice paper. This is the edible rice paper used to wrap those delicious spring rolls.

When a village doesn't have agricultural land, it is apparently common tor it to specialize in some craft.  Today we visited Bat Trang Village, whose 240 families have made ceramics from white clay for over a thousand years.  Unlike Tho Ha, when Bat Trang ran out of clay, they kept on with the ceramics, and started importing the clay.  After learning the ceramic making business, we visited the home of Mr. Duc, and learned about his family's experience during land reform from 1954-57. 

In all our home visits, we see large family altars. Although 90% of the people have no religion, from the Vietnamese perspective, ancestor worship is tradition, not religion. Pretty serious stuff, though. In addition to the home altars, each village has a pagoda to honor Buddha, and two temples- one to honor the village ancestor and one to honor Confucius. 

Vietnam so far is like one endless farmers market. On every street it seems you can buy fresh produce, eggs of many varieties, and cooked foods to satisfy every hunger. These are prepared on little charcoal cookers.  Some are snack foods, like green rice wrapped in a taro leaf or a sweet cake of sweet potato, coconut and sesame. Others, like pho and bia )2% fresh draft beer that costs $0.25 a glass), are served at the ubiquitous low red and blue plastic tables and chairs. With fresh food so easily available, Vietnamese shop every day, and big refrigerators are not important.

Yesterday we visited Hoa Lo Prison, also known as the "Hanoi Hilton," where John McCain spent the better part of six years after being shot down doing a bombing run over Hanoi. Although this era of the prison's history is presented, the major focus is on Hoa Lo Prison's earlier history as a place of incarceration and execution for Viet Minh fighting the French. The men and women were kept under pretty barbarous conditions, with one foot locked in stocks.  Execution was by guillotine, with the severed heads displayed in baskets.

Of course we've been eating lots of good food. Tonight was the best. Fried snake-head fish at Cha Ca La Vong, Vietnam's oldest restaurant, serving one dish (and one dish only) since 1871. The fish is fried at the table. You add greens and herbs, peanuts, and fish oil and serve over rice noodles. 

Wish I could go back to Cha Ca La Vong tomorrow night. Instead we leave Ha Noi for a night on Ha Long Bay. Sunday evening we fly to Hue.

Until next time.

Love, Toni

Postcard from Hanoi- December 25, 2014

This is our first trip to Southeast Asia, and our first flight further west than Hawaii. Twelve hours and three movies into our flight from L.A. we were passing over Japan, with Taipei still over two hours away. From Taipei, a three hour flight to Hanoi.

We arrived in Hanoi at 10:30 a.m. Wednesday (8:30 p.m. Tuesday MST), and are now ensconced at the Golden Lotus Hotel in the Old Quarter of Hanoi.  After a shower, Mary and I were refreshed enough to wander out in search of bottled water and Vietnamese coffee. We found a whole street of coffee houses, then a street of shoes, a street of engraving, a street of sunglasses, etc. Sidewalks are crowded with street food and produce vendors, plus parked (and occasionally moving) motor scooters, which are the primary means of transportation in Hanoi. As we had been warned, crossing streets is an adventure. You step out into the endless stream of scooters, bikes and cars, and walk across at a slow and deliberate pace.  So far, so good.

Our morning routine has us out at 6 to pass through the sidewalk markets and walk around Hoan Kiem Lake, where every few yards, a different club is doing morning exercise- from tai-chi to aerobics to badminton and Latin dance.  Every club has it's own music coming from boom boxes. This morning, the big aerobics groups is still moving to "We Wish You a Merry Christmas."  Our favorite club is laughing yoga- ho, ho, ha, ha, ha (seriously!). Believe it or not, scripted belly laughs and smiles leave you feeling exhilarated. 

Wednesday morning , we had beef noodle soup (pho bo) for breakfast, then a cyclo-rickshaw ride through the Old Quarter and the French Quarter. This turned out to be a surprisingly satisfying way to see the hectic activity of the Old Quarter, without having to negotiate crowded sidewalks and rush hour street crossings. We passed through streets of Santa Claus outfits, bamboo, tarps, hardware, welding, and more. Although each street is named for the wares historically sold there (like silk), the current product may be something else entirely (like funeral banners).

The cyclo-rickshaw ride finished at the Ho Chi MInh Mausoleum, a place of reverence for Vietnamese, for whom Ho Chi Minh is, as Mary put it, George Washington and Abraham Lincoln rolled into one.  No cameras and no talking as you file by the embalmed body of Uncle Ho, newly returned from its' annual refresh visit to Moscow. Later, as Hank told us the story of Ho Chi Minh and the liberation of Viet Nam from the Chinese and the U.S., we saw a group of decorated veterans posing for a photo in front of the mausoleum. 

Two digressions here-

(1) The Vietnam War- Half the population of Viet Nam was born after the end of the American War, as it is called here. This includes our 30-year-old guide Nguyen Duc Hanh (call me Hank). Not only is the war in the past, it is not their first or last war. Just before us, the French. Just after, the Cambodians, followed by the Chinese. Although men are age fought in the American War, whether in the Viet Minh or the Viet Cong, they seem to have forgiven, if not forgotten.

(2) Christmas- Big deal here, but more like New Year's revelries with lots of Santa Claus costumes (even little boys and girls), reindeer head gear, and the like.  Although Christmas Day is not a holiday, Christmas Eve is a huge party.  All Hanoi, paricularly young Hanoi, is out and about, and streaming in to the area where we are staying, often with the whole family on one 100cc motor scooter.    

So much more to tell, as in I've barely begun, and it's time to head off for Bat Trang village, a ceramic-making village near Hanoi.

Love, Toni

Postcard from Baja

We arrived home Saturday, as the full moon rose. As with real postcards, this blog post arrives long after bags are unpacked and clothes are washed.   
On the return trip, we took more side trips, camped in more remote locations, relaxed, saw more birds (Mary), spoke more Spanish (Toni), and lived off-leash (Toby). All good.
Birds:


Campsites:

Sights:

Toby:

Until the next trip . . .
Toni

Postcard from Todos Santos

It’s been a quiet week here in Baja California Sur. To make a short story shorter, we arrived in Todos Santos Sunday afternoon, and have been relaxing ever since.  Walking, eating, talking, reading, all in perfect edge-of-the-tropics temperatures.  All the trappings of a lovely week, complete with a few too many Toby-on-the-beach photos.   Speaking of Toby, he’s in seventh heaven.  No leash laws, new dog friends around every corner, and Jane DeLozier just down the street.  The big white guy is Jane’s Palomo.
    

Beaches here are long and empty.  Perhaps because, as everyone reminds us, they’re not safe for swimming. 
 

There were a few days of driving between Loreto and Todos Santos, and soon after leaving Loreto for La Paz, we encountered a major road construction delay.   Guys we couldn’t see were pushing boulders off the cliff, presumably to prevent same boulders from falling on unsuspecting VW Eurovans.   After a night on the outskirts of La Paz, we camped near the truly charming village of San Bartolo, in a campground called Rancho Verde.  The place was great for hiking, birding (Mary saw two endemic species, the Xantu’s Hummingbird and the Grey Thrasher), and peace and quiet in the Sierra La Laguna foothills.  Great vegetation too!
  

On to Cabo Pulmo, on the Eastern Cape.  This fishing village became a UNESCO World Heritage Site to protect the coral reef, the only surviving coral reefs in the Sea of Cortez.   Fishing has been replaced by snorkeling and diving.  We camped free in the ruins of an RV park, right on the Tropic of Cancer, and enjoyed a spectacular sunrise on our morning walk.


The bird life was pretty good too!



We arrived in Todos Santos shortly after the start of the annual film festival, and have watched two so-so movies (Quebranto and Un Mundo Secreto) from particularly uncomfortable seats.  Other hardships include arriving at a lovely restaurant in the middle of an organic farm, only to discover it is closed Tuesdays.  The mood improved when we returned Thursday and ate amazing roasted carrot and ricotta ravioli, drenched in pesto. 

Tomorrow we leave our little casita, spend a night at Jane’s, then start the return trip, catching a few spots we missed on the way down, and revisiting others we enjoyed.  Travelling companions Mabelle and Carolyn left Wednesday, so it’s down to us in the van.

Love to all, Toni