Friday, April 8, 2011

Hanoi: Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum Complex


Oh valuable readers, why did we find ourselves on a recent morning shivering through inclement weather in an unending queue outside a towering marble edifice with thousands of Vietnamese children and a spattering of pink tourists?  Why, of course, to eventually enter that building and have the exalted privilege of quickly shuffling past Uncle Ho's embalmed body.  An unparalleled thrill!


Continuing onwards down a paved lane, we then discovered the Presidential Palace in a splendid wooded copse, ornately rising from the stinking alluvial plains.  Uncle Ho called this stately manor home from 1954 until his passing in 1969.



Plebes rejoice! As a devout believer in the worth of the proletariat, he reportedly only used the mansion for official state business and purposely eschewed goose-down bedding for the simple austerity of the Stilt House.  Salt of the Earth...





Schoolchildren lining up for glimpses of the proud furniture that was at one time graced by the bony backsides of the Politburo.



The One Pillar Pagoda is clearly a very aptly titled structure.  According to such celestial sources as Wikipedia and Lonely Planet, the French did the Buddhist world a great disservice and graciously blew up the original temple as part of their post-Colonial exit strategy.  The pillar itself now has a modernist, concrete LA-freeway underpass aesthetic. Righteous.







Lick thyself clean,
fair itchy feline.


Unnaturally tall tourist at the entrance.



Nellie shrewdly perfecting the perfunctory Asian teen photo pose. Shi-zu!

A family reunion shot outside of the complex. The "fuzzy purple hat memo" was a distinct success.



The Ho Chi Minh museum.  We shall place this on a future itinerary. 


Thursday, April 7, 2011

Restrepo (2010)

Superlatives abound. The best documentary I've seen in a long time. The best war film I've ever seen.


Two photojournalists are embedded with a platoon of US soldiers in the Korengal Valley, Afghanistan for a year.  The ethics of conflict, the reasoning behind military intervention,  and the futility of protracted guerrilla warfare in the Tribal Belt aren't discussed here.  This is not a film that picks sides - it is a bleak, objective look at a group of dudes going about their chosen profession.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Hanoi: The Italian Embassy

 

Even after a near sleepless night due to a farcically loud performance by drunken backpacker teens in the budget guesthouse room above us, Gavin and I still managed to make our way into the misty morning with high spirits.  We peeled upon our swollen eyes and hit the pavement before 8 am, slurping down some broth before making our way around mystical Hoan Kiem Lake.  This day had been almost a year in the making and the impetus behind our trip to Hanoi - a bureaucratic odyssey that was now going to culminate in Gavin obtaining his passport from the Italian Embassy.

Anticipation fueled our limbs and we arrived at the embassy ridiculously early.  After taking a few pictures and enjoying the Colonial architecture on the tree-lined embassy row, we explored the area a bit.  While I perused a local shop looking at toiletries and trinkets, Gavin disappeared and went outside.  When I found him he looked unsettled.


He regaled me with a tale about the scene he had stumbled upon - one of murder and travesty.  He had come across an outdoor abattoir and a middle-aged couple hacking away at various creatures.  The most striking image is captured below - a basket of ensnared frogs vainly attempting to escape their cruel fate.


Hoping to encounter better luck that day than our amphibious friends, we headed back to the embassy and were curtly welcomed at the gates before being shuffled through a metal detector.  The consular attaché appeared pensive from the start and it quickly became apparent why:  a certain machine that was essential to the passport process had taken ill and we would have to return to Hanoi in a couple of weeks when it was feeling up to the job.

This was bad news.  Hopelessness and despair came over me as a fist-sized knot started to grow in my stomach and surge upwards though my core - all the way to my heavy eyelids.  We had dutifully completed each step of the exhausting process, confirmed the date with the embassy two weeks prior, built up naive expectations... and now this congenial government lackey was telling us better-luck-next-time.  After a persuasive bit of pleading on our part, the attaché left us with a none too hopeful "Well, let me see what I can do".  Gavin despondently plopped down at a wooden desk in the waiting room and asked me for a pen and paper.  Here are his thoughts from that anxious ten minutes:

"Eyes unsteady after a torturous night of insomnia, he dismally yawns and feels tears welling up behind bone-dry sockets.  The news isn’t devastating, but it surely isn’t good.
Just moments before arriving at the embassy, he’d watched a pair of butchers slice apart live frogs on a makeshift tarp spread across the sidewalk.  Instead of focusing on the mound of tri-colored entrails and the writhing, skinless legs, he chose to watch the death-queue.  Those frogs that fate had deemed expendable could smell death beside them.  They shivered through the breathless morning cold.
Waiting in that room, he presently shuttered alongside the thought of those beasts as it was hard for him to believe that things would turn out any better for him in this sullen land.”

Despite the gloom and doom predictions, things did indeed turn out better! The weary attaché returned with color in his previously pallid cheeks.  They could indeed complete the passport that day and we would not have to make a return trip!  Strange what a little bit of arm twisting can pull off.  Just another couple of years and I too can start the dual-citizenship process!


Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Explorations in Brief: Tan Dinh Market and Cathedral

There is quite a bit to do around the area where Hai Ba Trung and Vo Thi Sau intersect (District 3).  After leaving our bike attended in Le Van Tam Park, we set out on a walking tour of the nearby surroundings.  Highlights included the cacophonous and diverse Tan Dinh Market as well as the ostentatiously pink Tan Dinh cathedral.


Dried delicacies of the sea.

Assorted mollusks.


The ice man cometh.
Pineapples: before and after.

The Tan Dinh Cathedral.  A striking symbol of Roman Catholicism in the heart of the Orient.




Behind the church there is a peaceful garden adorned with statues depicting Jesus in varying degrees of pain and abasement.




There were also some interesting plants, flowers and even a few languorous butterflies drifting around the grounds.


Saturday, April 2, 2011

Hanoi: The Land of Soup

Saigon and Hanoi are very different cities.  In the Great Red North people talk, eat, frown, and dress a little differently.  Hanoi is arguably the cultural epicenter of Vietnam, but weather-wise one can easily consider it the North Pole after growing accustomed to the balmy haze of Saigon.  Winters up north are dreary, bone-chilling affairs; hence the prevalence of soup.  I have never been one to hunker down over a steaming bowl of phở down south, but in Hanoi it's the only way to regain feeling in your face. Due to the popularity, there are many specialty soups served up as both street food and in proper restaurants.

1. Bún Riêu Cua

Tomato broth, crushed up bits of freshwater paddy crab shells, and rice noodles are the main ingredients in this singularly delicious offering.  Add water spinach stems, chunks of fried tofu, hot peppers, fresh bean sprouts, and shredded banana flowers to maximize your flavor. Intrepid eaters can go even further - add Vietnamese sausage (we affectionately refer to them as "mystery meat sticks"), paddy snails, or tubes of congealed pig's blood (rich in iron, hard to swallow).  After a grueling mid-morning peregrination, Gavin spotted the sign for this joint a mile away.


We enjoyed our bowls amongst hungry locals and a group of boorish Americans at 123 Phu Doan.


Typically finicky, I ordered a simple vegetarian phở to warm my innards and finished off with a strong, black coffee to push myself through our final day of exploring.


2. Bún Chả Ha Noi


This is not quite a soup, but since it is the dish to order when in Hanoi it deserves mention.  While we have enjoyed it a couple of times in Saigon, there's nothing quite like the real thing.  A steaming pile of rice noodles, capably constructed meatballs, crispy spring rolls, and leafy greens are doused with a fragrant broth and then quickly consumed.  Gavin ordered this beauty at New Day Restaurant (72 Ma May) on our first day in town.

3. Bún Riêu Oc

After spending an eternity perusing purses at a beautiful embroidery shop on Hang Hanh Street, I noticed Gavin had gone missing.  Where did I find him but across the street, hunkered down precariously over a fresh bowl of bún riêu ốc.  He had a spoon full of snails, a crooked grin on his face, and the small plastic stool supporting him looked as if it would soon buckle under his immense weight.  This soup is almost identical to the earlier mentioned crab soup, but rather than paddy crabs, a heaping helping of pond snails is added.  (Thus it lacks the scarlet hue).  I asked him what he thought and after furrowing his brow and pausing in reflection for a moment his reply was that snails taste an awful lot like the environment they dwell in: dirt.

4. Canh


Dill, lemongrass, mouth-watering fragments of freshwater fish, peanuts, and vermicelli rice noodles mingle together in a boiling hot pot.  Sound delicious?  Sure was.  I found myself ladling spoonfuls of the delicate broth strait from the hot pot into my mouth.  An incomparably light and tasty soup that we enjoyed at 69 Restaurant & Bar (69 Ma May).