Letter from Dear Old Dad in Hanoi

*For a great, basic map of Hanoi, visit THIS CNN SITE. For a personal, humorous account of a visit to Hanoi, please keep reading.

My father has more interesting things to say today than I do, so I thought I'd share his latest e-mail with all of you.
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Subject: Freezing and dining in Hanoi

When I left my house to fly to Bangkok, I debated whether or not to bring my LLBean gore-tex rain jacket and an extra long sleeve shirt. I'm sure glad that I did. It's about 6:30 PM and the rain is pouring and wind is gusty outside. The temperature is probably in the low 50s.

I'm in the same hotel in Hanoi where I stayed last time. I think that it was probably built by to emulate a French style. There is a long, slightly curved outside staircase to my room with very uneven and steep concrete stairs, broad at the bottom and narrowing at the top.

It is a relatively small room with two single beds, a very large wardrobe, two small tables, a night stand, three chairs, none of which are comfortable, a suitcase table and a desk that is wholly occupied by an older TV. There are a greater range of English channels than at the hotel in Bangkok but the sound does not work and the picture is what those of my generation termed "snowy".

There is insufficient space to fully open the wardrobe doors without hitting the side of the first bed. I might be able to move the second bed a bit closer to the window, that will not shut securely, but the bedside lamp fixture prevents moving the first bed.

The bathroom is one an open designs with no partitions or curtains over the hosed shower anywhere so that the shower-a hose with a small spray at the end washes the outside of the closely situated toilet. The toilet tissue cannot be kept in close proximity to the toilet itself less it become soaked with water so it is located about three steps away at the other end of the bathroom, thereby providing an incentive to remember its remote location before sitting down.

Nobody at the desk understands English. They've added wireless since I came but nobody knew the WEP key this evening.

The pluses-it is a 30 second commute to the office. It is very clean. There is a lot of hot water. There is A/C (important on my last stay but not this one) and it's secure. It's also 30 dollars a night.

I went out in the rain to look for a place to eat. I knew that there were some in the next business area over but it was frigid with wind blown rain coming down. I tried a couple but neither served food though food appeared on the menu of one of them.

I finally went into one, open to the front but deep enough to be warm if I kept my jacket on. There was also nobody smoking. I thought to have pho but there were the hot dishes spread in the front so I pointed. Nobody knew English.
I recognized beef, pork, and fish dishes with veggies so I chose the one I didn't know. Turned out to be liver but not bad and probably not enough to mess up my cholesterol too much since it's probably been three decades since I had it. I chose a large portion of really good stir-fried spinach, and another portion of some delicious meat and veggie balls of uncertain origins. The cook threw in a large portion of steaming rice, a hard-boiled egg rolled in an unknown but tasty coating to round out my shot of cholesterol, and a bowl of hot soup.

It was good. There was an elderly woman there who greeted me warmly with the only words I recognized, "Good evening" but in French. I replied in kind and greeted her again when I left. I knew how to say "Good evening" in French if not to write it!

The cost of tonight's feast was only 30,000 dong or $1.25.

This was in great contrast to last night in Bangkok. I was tired and it looked like rain so I went down to the Japanese place in the housing development where Richard lives. I have to admit that the relatively small piece of fish that I enjoyed was wonderfully cooked and the small accompanying dishes were beautifully presented, each one in its own specialized container that was laid on the table only in its rightful place and one other. No muti-compartmented
stainless steel tray for the Japanese.

In spite the ambiance, though, the overall experience was unnerving. The wait staff consisted of four or perhaps five women, all but one young and with a core group of gigglers in the bunch. I was their only customer. There is such a thing as too much attention. I know that over 30 years of living and traveling internationally, I've brought laughter into the lives of many but usually they are not grouped at the other end of the room waiting for my water glass to fall below the three-quarters mark. At one point, forgetting that my glass had once more been filled to the top, picked it up and, without looking, tried to begin drinking from where I had left off. My shirt escaped a wetting but not my mustache and therefore my chin, since wet mustaches drip. And I had only the ever-present already dampened and scented white cloth with which to clear the dampness. I did not even look up.

I'm not too bad with chopsticks but having an audience does little to improve my dexterity in trying to separate a wonderfully flaky fish from its outer skin without any cutting tool. As the remaining fish grew cooler the flakes clung more tightly to the skin. As the remaining fish grew lighter there was no longer of sufficient weight so that attempts to separate flaky flesh from its increasing adherent skin became virtually impossible. I finally admitted defeat and became multi-cultural, using the acceptable Thai utensils of fork and tablespoon to separate the flesh and the chopsticks to eat it. The final cost of the dinner reminded me why I seldom eat Japanese.

Time to end this and wrap myself in a blanket.

Isn't life fun?

Cheers,

Meredith
W Meredith Long, DrPH
Senior Director of International Programs
World Concern
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And I was going to write about yet another grey day and a trip to the store to track down corned beef. Glad my Dad had more to say. To find out more about World Concern, click here: World Concern