travels

In January of 2001, I am getting on a plane bound for Sydney, Australia. I have an open return ticket, good for one year. In the space of that year, I am planning on traveling through New Zealand, Australia, and parts of China and Southeast Asia. This is an ongoing chronicle of my travels.

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november 23, 2001
The Culinary Adventures of Tina

Although I treasure "western" breakfasts when I am at home in Canada (muesli, yogurt, fruit), I have periodically been indulging in more traditional fare while living in Vietnam. Lining the streets of Hanoi and tucked into every nook and cranny in the early morning are the sellers of pho. These are usually women who tend to huge steaming pots of beef broth, which they ladle into bowls with slivers of beef, white rice noodles, cilantro, ginger, and squirts of Vietnamese lemon. Although beef isn't typically the first thing on my mind in the early morning, I do admit that this is actually a fabulous breakfast. Every morning in the little alley leading out from my guest house, there is a woman who sets up a pho stall (low tables and plastic stools on the ground). Having previously sampled her fare, I decided yesterday to have a bowl of the stuff before heading off to work. Unfortunately, her daily pot of pho is finite and she had already sold out of the broth and the noodles.

Instead, I got something which will hereafter be known as the Most Revolting Meal in the World. The woman gestured towards what looked like a hard boiled egg and, because this is actually traditional breakfast fare, I nooded my head yes. She dipped it into the remaining bit of beef broth to re-heat, cracked it open and placed it into a bowl in front of me.

What stared back at me did not look like a normal hard boiled egg. I could see the beginnings of a circulation system, internal organs and, when I broke it open, little baby feathers and a half-formed beak. Needless to say, the rumbling of hunger in my stomach was immediately silenced at the prospect of actually chewing and swallowing any of what sat in front of me. My first tactic was to act as if I hadn't realized that I had actually ordered and, to cover up for my error, I made as if to pay and leave. Tactic #1 was a grand failure. The woman looked simultaneously surprised and offended, repeating over and over, "ngon!" (tasty!). She gave me some herbs and ginger to add to the revolting mush and gestured for me to eat. Hating to offend, especially someone who I will be seeing every day as I pass by on my way to work, I engaged in Tactic #2. Adding it to my list of "cultural experiences", I sat there and forced half of the Most Revolting Meal in the World down my throat while mentally willing myself not to bring it right back up. I covered up the remainder with a few herb leaves, paid, and beat a fast path out of there, trying not to think about what I had just eaten (fertilized goose embryo, as I found out later).

It took an extremely strong coffee and a plain baguette to get the taste out of my mouth.
posted by tina 11/23/2001 04:04:35 PM

november 18, 2001
Things have shifted. I'm still in Hanoi and I have just signed a job contract with the Vietnam News Agency editing English news. I don't think anyone actually reads the stories that I edit and I think this is probably just as well since most of it is really horrible stuff, full of revolutionary jargon and socialist optimism, however false ("Pig iron production is up thanks to our glorious revolutionary workers!"). To be honest, I don't quite know how I feel about the whole thing, particularly in light of what I studied in university. At the same time, I suppose that the agency doesn't try to hide what it is - it's transparent really - and, besides, nobody really reads the communiques, apart from my father now that I'm working there. I'm probably also going to supplement my meagre income with English conversation lessons at one of the schools in the city.

I suppose I could go into the reasoning behind my decision to live in Hanoi for awhile but I don't really want to subject you to my motivations, particularly after the last two weeks of absolute confusion. Let's just say that I'm happy to be stopping, taking a somewhat meditative pleasure in unpacking my belongings into my bright apartment. I am also taking the time to actually study Vietnamese a few hours a week with ample opportunities to practice. As I have already mentioned, Hanoi is beautiful, especially now that the late summer heat has faded and the quality of light throughout the city has clarified.
posted by tina 11/18/2001 03:11:33 PM


In Hanoi and apparently also in Saigon, it is possible to purchase virtually any book, photocopied and bound in a surprisingly authentic fashion. In tourist areas, young men who are universally referred to as the "postcard boys", approach tourists with postcard sets, photocopies of the Lonely Planet for almost any Southeast Asian destination, Vietnamese phrasebooks and cookbooks, and novels. Of the latter, the boys typically only carry two novels: The Quiet American by Graham Greene and The Sorrow of War by Bao Ninh, a North Vietnamese soldier who fictionalizes his own experiences during the Vietnam War. The first day I arrived in Hanoi, I bought the latter having already purchased the Greene novel when I was in Melbourne. When I saw that the boy had Ninh's novel, I quickly bought it thinking myself lucky for finally finding a copy of the book after futilely searching for the novel while still in Australia. Only later did I realize that all the postcard boys sell copies of the book and many other travelers in Vietnam have already read it. In fact, as far as photocopied books go, the postcard boys sell these two books to the almost total exclusion of most of other novels (I've only seen one other novel in the hands of these boys - strangely it was Such a Long Journey by Rohinton Mistry). Are we travelers so predictable? I suppose that in some ways it is probably a good thing that travelers try to read books related to the history of the country in which they are traveling, rather than the usual tiresome fixation on Alex Garland's The Beach (Why do all travelers in Southeast Asia feel obligated to read this but still change nothing?). However, speaking as a traveler, it is a bit embarassing to be so totally predictable.

That said, The Quiet American, by Graham Greene, is a fantastic book. I've never read any of Greene's work before but now I have every intention of reading many more of his novels. It's remarkable how prescient the book is regarding future American involvment in Vietnam (he wrote the book in 1954). I really like the quotes Greene uses to introduce the novel, probably quite relevant in the context of ongoing world events:

I do not like being moved: for the will is excited; and action
Is a most dangerous thing; I tremble for something factitious,
Some malpractice of heart and illegitimate process;
We're so prone to these things, with our terrible notions of duty.

A.H. Clough

This is the patent age of new inventions
For killing bodies, and for saving souls,
All propagated with the best intentions.

Byron
posted by tina 11/18/2001 02:19:36 PM

november 3, 2001
Hanoi is gorgeous. It is full of the remnants of colonial France - muted, faded colours, ironwork on balconies overhanging the street, European facades, broad shady boulevards. There are peaceful lakes in the middle of the city, banyan trees hanging leaves down into the water and lining the streets. But it isn't the romantic world of Indochine either; there is also the madness of jostling people and motorcycles, the constant beeps of the vehicles in traffic, fruit hawkers, streetside food stalls, and streams of dirty water flowing down the streets.

Because I came down with the flu just prior to leaving Hong Kong, I've mostly been recuperating by resting and strolling over the past few days. I have spent hours sitting on the hostel balcony overlooking the street, absorbing the small details of life. There is the toddler who is universally loved by all his neighbours; every night he is visited by an aunt who laughs exuberantly each time he says something that pleases her. There is the smell coming up from the street of skewers of meat being roasted over open coals by the woman who runs the shop across the street. This morning, I could actually see a pure blue colour in the sky - rare in most Asian cities - with sunlight bouncing off pale yellow-painted walls. There are hidden rooftop and balcony gardens and every morning there is a woman who smiles and waves at me from the balcony opposite.
posted by tina 11/3/2001 08:25:03 PM



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