New City

Excitement doused by some trepidation. Let the doors slide. Don’t think about what’s on the other end, just walk through. When you can’t go back, forwards will treat you well. You’ve read the advice and heeded the warnings. Sometimes you break your own rules. Unmarked taxi, the sun is gone but the people are on the roads. The buildings, the people, the roads, language, taxis, smell, weather all familiar by themselves, but together build something new. Landmarks and stereotypes peppered with corporate logos make you feel secure and ashamed. What’s it say about us if we feel comfortable when we see the Shell logo?

Frantic scampering with straight faces and scooters. I smile, the noise is pure energy and it’s recharging me. No sleep. Air conditioner stands guard, kills the humidity and the nose. First port of call, Revolutionary Museum. Crossing the road is mistakingly referred to as an ‘art form’. Just cross. Horns will let you know you’re where they want to be. This is done without the aggression of the West. I haven’t worked out why we don’t like horns back home.

Museum is shut for another hour. Find a park. Wait. Contemplate. Need to learn how to say ‘no thank you’ politely. The eagerness and persistance of street commerce can be extinguished by distracting the vendor with some clumsy attempt at the language. Need to learn some more words. Off the road and into the park Thans bounces towards me on a scooter. Excited he asks the next questions before i’ve answered the previous. What’s your name? Where are you from? Do you like Hanoi. I’ll take you to some wonderful places not for money, just for friendship. After the interrogation petrol and some food seems fair. A lap of the revolutionary museum reminds me of what ‘mobilised’ people are capable of. What attention they can create and what reprisals they receive from the brutes. From here, we ride the highway, to a restaurant near the river. We’ll eat dock. Dock? Must mean duck. Later discover here ‘g’ is pronounced like a ‘ck. And we’ve ordered dog. What did it taste like? Like dog. Would I eat it again? No. Was I violently ill? Ask me tomorrow.