Today, I opted to be guided by a student from the Hanoi University. They take you on a walking tour of things you want to see. But of course, knowing that nothing is for free, especially in Vietnam, I knew that I had to tip them, in addition to the entrance fees, the transportation and meals you’re going to have to pay for while they’re with you.
It seems like a good deal but I think I hit a dud.
First of all, the student, named Hang (pronounced Hung), had very rudimentary English, which made communication not so much easier than just winging it yourself.
Second, Hang has a very poor sense of direction that makes any walking tour a nightmare. Let’s just put it this way, there were times I had to direct her in the right direction. And when she disagreed, I asked her to ask random people on the street, who proved I was right. We spent a lot of time doubling over because we had gone in the wrong direction. If I had made the mistake, it wouldn’t be so frustrating because, well, I’m a stranger to this place. I have a right to get lost. but you’re the guide and a tourist student. Third year, out of four already. If you’re about to graduate, you should know this stuff in and out, right?
Third, she just wasn’t that knowledgeable. Except, for the information on the Temple of Literature.
Fourth, this person walks slowly. Most of the time she was at least a meter behind me. Which begged the question, who is leading whom.
In short, it was more frustrating that if I’d done today alone.
Still, it wasn’t all a waste. I found out that in Vietnam, a man is allowed to have two wives. And that Hang’s father had an affair with a woman, has another 11-year old child with this woman and now intends to marry her. Hang herself already has two other siblings each five years apart from each other. Hang herself is 21. Her mother is a kindergarten teacher. Her father is an electrician.
I asked Hang how her mother felt, how she felt. Of course the words, disappointment, anger came up. While the sense of loss seemed palatable, the fact that her father didn’t really care about her family, there was a certain emptiness in her eyes. Perhaps calculated, perhaps dodgy.
When asked if she liked Vietnam, she said no. I was surprised. (Actually I wasn’t. Other than her knowledge of the Temple of Literature, she didn’t really offer much more information.) After all, she is a student of tourism and travel. When I probed why she was studying tourism then. She said, I like foreigners.
Ahhh… mystery solved. I’ve seen this love of foreigners. Particularly white skinned foreigners. People like me, are actually treated with disdain. In fact, I felt it when I was wandering through the streets of the Old Quarter. I stopped to ask what food it was and if I could buy some, I was actually ignored. Even if I tapped on their shoulders so they knew I was talking to them, they’d turn away physically. White skinned people? They were more tolerant of their stupidity. In fact, I’ve seen them behave like monkeys, asking for money. But ironically, I’ve seen some white skinned people who are very savvy about what is going on.
The sad truth is, the Vietnamese don’t just try to cheat foreigners, visitors, they do it to their own people. So it’s hard to feel any pity for them. Because if you do, you’re the one whom they’re going to take advantage of. By the end of the day, when I tried to get away from Hang, she insisted on following me, practically asking for a tip. (I knew I had to give it, I just wanted to see how far she’d go.)
This free walking tour, turned out to be one of the more expensive days of travel. I mean the kind of travel where I’m spending most of the time walking.
Of today’s eats, breakfast at the hotel was fried eggs, bacon, sausages, toast. The bread was excellent. Bacon was nice, but really small bits. Sausages not great. Eggs were nicely fried.
Another good thing I got out of the walking tour: an introduction to an ice cream: Kem Trang Tien, an establishment since 1958. 12,000 VND for a basic cone. It took a lot of asking what the original flavour was. There was no answer. So I tasted it and came to a conclusion: Coconut. But then again, I couldn’t confirm it, as she doesn’t know what a coconut is. Even when I pointed it out to her, she didn’t say if I was right or not. Anyway, the ice cream wasn’t creamy, more icy and quite sweet. It was okay, but the cone… now that has sesame seeds in it and tasted fantastic. So try this ice cream for the cone. It just finishes the taste so nicely. The taste of that cone has just stuck in my mind.
At 1430, I was really hungry and wanted food. At that time, all food seemed to disappear off the street. We walked and walked to the Temple of Literature and finally found some pho. It wasn’t fantastic. 30,000 VND for a bowl.
I had some green tea, which is 3,000 VND with ice. It is Tra Da. I learnt how to pronounce it as chra da. Da is for ice.
We ended the day with Xoi (pronounced soi) for dinner. I had been looking for it but it was in front of my nose all the time. So I felt rather stupid being taken down the same road that I had been on when I first arrived. The xoi is glutinous rice with mashed bean paste and topped with any variety of items. I had a mixed bowl.
When I say spam like, it’s because it looks like spam. But it tastes nothing like spam. Of everything in that bowl, that was the worst item.
The two bowls of xoi, a cup of tra da for me and a cup of soya bean milk for Hang, cost 107,000 VND. Not cheap by Vietnamese standards.
Of the sites were visited:
The Opera House in the French Quarter, but Hang said she didn’t know much about the area. So that wasn’t particularly interesting. More interesting is the fact that she takes the bus from town back home in the area pretty much one street away from the French Quarter.
I witnessed a couple taking their wedding photo at the steps of the Opera House. Then walking further off to a popular square – I don’t know the name, Hang also didn’t know the name – and found something like 12 other couples taking wedding photos there. I would like to gloat at this point, that I asked Hang if she knew where we were. She did not. No surprise. And it was only 1000 in the morning. I set her bearings right. She said “oh!”. Hang me.
The old Citadel meant to keep the French out. Failed, I guess. Due to Tet, there was a lot of bonsai on display there.
Even though the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum, his house and other associated attractions nearby where were closed, I decided to walk there, thinking there would be few people, good to take photos. I think there were fewer people than normal. But there were crowds. I’m not sure if I want to come back again and visit.
The West Lake was pretty nearby, so we headed there and visited the oldest pagoda in Hanoi, Tran Quoc.
West Lake is very pretty. And the road the divides the lake into two parts is very pretty. And while the area has the oldest pagoda, the rest of the buildings look more modern than that at the Old Quarter.
We doubled back to The Temple of Literature. Entry 20,000 VND. Vietnamese students 10,000VND. I could actually read the names of the left door, right door, which are in Chinese script. And apparently, Vietnamese believe that you should always take the left door which says to be a good person, and exit the right door, which reads talent. They believe it is more important to be a good person before talent. Tell that to all the Vietnamese cheaters out there, including the bus conductor who tried to get 100,000 VND out of me on top of my expensive bus ticket.
Students who are about to graduate like to come here and take photos.
There are two parts to this temple, the first is for Confucius. The second is for the first teacher in this university. The grounds are created with perfect balance, a lake on either side, gates on either side and so on.
And that was pretty much another day in Hanoi.
And as you can see from some of these photos, I’ve not even bothered to correct any of the photos for slanting horizon lines and what not.