“Mind if I use your computer?”
“Yes, no problem.”
I’d got in from the sleeper train at 5:30am and my hotel wasn’t open yet. Lights were on in a hostel along the way, so I used their internet to plan for a while. Quite a while. I wouldn’t have asked in England, but their relaxed approach to stuff like this is great. We could learn a lot.
Sunday chilling street-side with tea and stools:
… on the way to the “Remains of Hoa Lo prison”. Only it’s not remains, it’s a fully-restored French colonial mansion:
I’m getting used to the Vietnamese approach to museums – one-sided, “can’t really tell what the truth is in all of this” propaganda. It’s getting both annoying and tiring. Some examples:
- The prison “confined and persecuted the body and mind of revolutionary patriotic solders… who kept their steady sense of purpose.”
- It was built to form “a complete autocratic ruling system to aid their domination and oppression of the Vietnamese people.”
Lots of words. No real meaning. But the building was impressive:
And this is what I gleaned before I got fed up with the subjective reporting:
- Built in 1896
- 1946 – 54: used as a prison to detain Vietnamese soldiers
- 1964 – 73: used to remand US pilots
- 1993: restored, embellished and classified as a “revolutionary relic of Hanoi”
It was built on an area formerly known as Phu Khanh village which, as the only destination in the area where home applicances were made, became known as Hoa Lo (“portable stove”). When the French colonists turned up, they moved everyone and built a prison, courthouse and headquarters for the secret police. It was known as the “Hao Lo” prison.
Photographs of those involved in the Hanoi poisoning had no context or explanation. Turns out that the Vietnamese hatched a plot to poison the entire French colonial army’s garrison to make way for a rebel army to capture Hanoi (you’ve got to admire their guts). Only it didn’t work out quite as expected as the soldiers fell ill, but didn’t die; and one of the cooks involved had felt guilty, gone to church for confession, and the French priest then told the government officials who duly arrested and executed those involved. A good story, but I now know why the Vietnamese didn’t elaborate…
On the flip side, there was a whole section about how well they’d treated the captured US pilots. Photos and videos of them playing sport, being given hair cuts and celebrating Christmas did, I decided, need to be consumed with caution. I recalled the videos the Nazis made, fattening up some Jews in order to make it look like they were being well-treated. Not saying that the Vietnamese didn’t treat them well, but their blatant one-sided reporting doesn’t do them any favours as you then can’t trust anything you’re told. I wasn’t sure whether the US soldiers naming it the “Hanoi Hilton” was irony or accuracy.
And then it talked about the US bombing South Vietnam and I started to get really confused. I thought they were fighting the communist North, supporting the South who didn’t have the necessary resources..?
I’d originally been planning to visit the “Vietnam History Museum”, but decided I couldn’t cope with any more subjective reporting so went to sit by the lake instead:
With locals (some in suits) on their lunch break, squatting to eat or smoke:
Five minutes later I heard “Hello, I’m a doctor.” I thought for a moment that he was going to diagnose me by sight, but soon realised his true objective, which he then confirmed: “I speak to tourists to practise my English.”
Oh not another one. It’s great they want to improve but I really have done my fair share now. Maybe I’m more approachable as a single female tourist. Mind you, in always getting asked for directions (among other things) back home so perhaps it’s just me. It’s just that when their English isn’t very good, it’s very, very tiring. I really wasn’t in the mood, so I explained I’d done it quite a few times and that I’d just like to sit. He was very lovely about it and left me alone. Then a fish jumped out of the water and all was well again (no photo, obviously – they don’t hang around).
Spent the afternoon wandering round the Old Quarter. Each street is named after one of 36 professions. For instance, this must be “Cobbler Street”:
Other random observations:
Can’t remember whether I mentioned that in Hoi An, I’d walked through the market and noticed someone diligently going through an older lady’s hair. Lice? No, something clearly far worse – grey hairs. She was systemtically going through her tresses and plucking out the short grey hairs. That’s why they’ve all got jet black hair! I told you appearance was important to the Asians. It also explains why some of the older ladies are completely bald!
Thick bunches of electric cables – some strategic cuts and I reckon you could take out most of Hanoi:
The city gate:
Markets with very narrow aisles (this is one of the reasons I avoid markets, but mostly I avoid them because I just get hassled to buy stuff I don’t want):
Rush hour also happens on a Sunday:
And then I needed to cross the busy road. I actually like crossing the road because I get a real sense of satisfaction that I can do it. Halfway across, I felt a light touch on my elbow, and turned to see a late-middle-aged lady shuffling to keep directly in my “traffic shadow” and staring beyond me fearfully at the oncoming traffic. She looked up at me, smiled shyly and said “Follow”. I smiled and laughed. She relaxed and clung on harder, and we slowed walked across the road together. It amused me that a local had hidden behind a tourist to get across!
Last stop was St Joseph’s Cathedral. A magnificent building:
.. and interior (although a service was on, but as I couldn’t understand anything, I made a swift exit):
Then I sat in my favourite local cafe (tasty, cheap):
… and watched the throngs who gathered for the service – another reminder of how much religion pervades their everyday life in a way that it doesn’t in England:
A good, chilled day. Wandering the streets of cities gives you a real sense of the place. I feel like I know Hanoi 🙂
