After months of traveling in Europe, a continent which despite its differences still bears a striking resemblance to the place I had come from. A place where I could disappear in the crowd and observe from within, a place I had come to find quite facile and familiar. Departing Berlin, a city enveloped in winter, I was off to the origins of my desires to travel, Asia.
Though not my focus, Europe provided for great training wheels from a purely traveling standpoint. Things were available, sometimes you would search, you had to learn and yet you could ask as things were needed. Of course, the ability to blend into the crowd came in handy.
After boarding a plane with what seemed like a whole orchestra of drunken Czechs, I'd commenced my 18 hour (with a stopover in Beijing) flight to Hanoi, Vietnam.
Naturally, my Soviet eyes caught the clear communist insignias on the uniforms of all of the police and soldiers working the airport. Having mostly seen these things on little pins and badges back home or in the form of kitsche items warn by hipsters, it made for a nice first impression. After procuring the visa, I had my first taste of Asian bargaining ( a skill I would later polish, no really) when I got my taxi into town.
It was night time and the rain was coming down hard. Despite this I couldn't help but notice the plethora of tiny motorbikes on the roads. Imagine a skinny scooter with gears and the high pitch buzz of a lawnmower. Most had 2-3 passengers, didn't use headlights and were somehow undeterred by the buckets pouring down.
A key defining factor of the Asian rules of the road is this: It is you against the world. My taxi driver made a point of driving exactly ON the divider line, honking furiously at all other vehicles as he overtook them in all manners of death defying feats. No, I didn't dare insult him by attempting to wear my seat belt.
Hanoi on first impression was dark and crowded. Though a sidewalk existed, it appeared to be seldom used as most people either park their motorbikes, have little sidewalk restaurants (read: tables and pots over a fire) or the sidewalk itself is under construction (perhaps eternally.)
Asia, here I was.
Having spent a few days in Hanoi, I still found it to be insane, but one gets quite used to things. Though there were no traffic lights, it was quite easy crossing the street. The trick is to put aside instinct and walk in a straight predictable line right through the chaos. The riders in their infinite experience manage to avoid all pedestrians as well as each other. Eye contact is key and road rage seems to be non-existent. Logic says that traffic accidents must happen, but in all my time in Vietnam I didn't witness a single one even when I was quite convinced that would be the outcome.
A few Brits and myself decided we would eat where the locals eat, which is usually in the street. As mentioned before, restaurants are set up by putting tiny plastic chairs and tables in the street. The food is also cooking in giant pots or makeshift grills right on the street. Often these sidewalk eateries only serve one or two dishes, so everyone knows where to go when they are in the mood for a particular dish.
This is how most of the Vietnamese eat. The food is fresh and usually better than the tourist restaurants. A full meal including a big beer will cost at most 17,000 Vietnamese Dong or $1 USD.
As I was going to see much more often through my travels in Asia, it was surprising just how much daily life happens right on the street. Everything from restaurants, dental practices, motorcycle repairs, tailors, flag makers to cafes can be situated on the same street. Everyone will be sitting or working outside. Of course, as mentioned before this makes the sidewalk non-negotiable, but it is interesting to see the creative ways people utilize space. Like these powerlines...
Sure it means the food that was just cooked in the giant pot outside will have essence of exhaust pipe in it, that just adds to the flavour! If one is interested in seeing how people live here a nice wandering will do the trick.
foto @ dimakay.fotki.com
