I began my journey to Vietnam not knowing what to expect. Yes, I’d done some research. Yes, I knew a little of the history of Vietnam (but only in regards to the Vietnam War . . . and only from an American’s perspective). Yes, I had places that I wanted to explore, food that I wanted to try, and landmarks that I yearned to see in person.
Despite having a (rough) itinerary, I had no idea what Vietnam had in store for me. The surprises that awaited me in this gorgeous country.
Upon my arrival, I was met by a kind taxi driver who spoke excellent English. The drive to the hotel, he told me, would take around forty minutes. I threw my backpack in the trunk, opened the front passenger door, and before sitting down asked him if it was alright to sit next to him. (I really don’t like sitting in the back seat. I feel like I’m being chauffeured.) He gave me a warm smile and said that would be great. The conversation flowed easily, and I learned that we had a few things in common. Both of us grew up in the countryside. Both of us were close to our family and considered our sibling (or, in his case, siblings) to be our best friend. As he explained some customs and offered me a small glimpse into his culture, I was entranced. He graciously answered all my questions and taught me my first Vietnamese phrase, cảm ơn, which means “thank you.” The ride ended up taking well over an hour with traffic. And I am thankful for that.
This. This is why I love travel. Why traveling is the healthiest kind of addiction, one for which there is no antidote . . . the only thing satisfying the craving being more, and more, travel.
This, friends, is where the good stuff is. You can go thousands of miles from home and still find a piece of it, and carry it with you, wherever you are. You come to discover that the people you meet, the places you go, teach you not only more about the world, but about yourself, too.
After my first night in Hanoi, I was excited to get out and go adventuring. I woke up early, had my first taste of Vietnamese coffee (dark and delicious), and was off. First stop: ATM.
Oh, no.
Every traveler’s nightmare. My Visa cards, not a one, were working.
“At least Vietnam is cheap?” I told myself. Cheap, yes. But free? Not so much.
I went back to the hotel downcast. So much for adventuring this morning. Now, the adventure was trying to get some money so I could actually begin my adventure. I had, quite quickly, gone from considering myself a strong, solo traveler to a stressed out wreck.
And here, back at the hotel, is where I was met with kindness, once again, in this lovely country. Mia, the receptionist, offered to dial numbers and do everything she could to help me. While I was trying not to stress, she gave me encouraging smiles and patiently waited for me to make the necessary calls, reassuring me that it was no trouble and that she wouldn’t charge me for any phone calls.
Kindness. Heaps of it.
After a round of calls and what seemed like an endless line of telephone numbers and rings, it all worked out. And I was off.
I had arranged a free tour with a group called Hanoi Kids. The organization takes college students who want to practice their English and show foreigners their country with tourists.
Genius idea.
Here is where I met April, a freshman in college who was studying to be an English teacher. “I’ve always wanted to go on a tour with an English teacher!” she explained excitedly after she asked about my occupation. “So, do you know where you would like to go first?”
There was one place that I wanted to see above everything else. A place, I admit, that caused me to change my trip from Ho Chi Minh City to Hanoi.
“The Temple of Literature.” I said with a smile.
The Temple of Literature, Hanoi
You all can see, why, right?
April explained about the temple, the scholars, the traditions. She told me about the “Lake of Heavenly Clarity,” a name so beautiful I constantly repeated it to myself to try to commit it to memory. (I guess it must have worked?) April also said that this place is where her family goes every year for Lunar New Year, a tradition they have had since she was young. She told me that since she became a part of Hanoi Kids she has learned so much more about the place.
“You’ll be able to share all the information with your family that you did with me!” I say excitedly.
“Yes.” She says with a smile. “I look forward to it.”
From there we wandered around Old Quarter and I had my first taste of egg coffee, a dark and fragrant coffee that is sweetened with egg and condensed milk. You drink, or, rather, eat it, with a spoon: dipping your delicate, silver spoon down through the creamy layers to get to the bitterness beneath. It is pure heaven, especially for a coffee fanatic such as myself.
While drinking coffee, we discussed education, teaching, and differences in schools in the United States and Vietnam. I was surprised to learn that if someone chooses to study here to become a teacher they are offered free tuition. This, April says, leads many college students into teaching careers, but the majority do so for the free tuition, and not out of a passion for teaching. April furrows her brows and I can tell that the idea of teachers going into the classroom without a love for teaching upsets her.
“Passion,” I tell her, “Is essential to teaching. Without it, you are doing a disservice to yourself . . . and your future students.”
She nods her head in agreement. “I think that way, too,” she states.
April expresses her desire to teach, and to stay in Vietnam after she finishes school to give back to her country. To give to her country one of the most important gifts she can:
Education.
Egg Coffee (and the incredibly small tables of the famous Café Giảng)
After getting a caffeine boost, we began wandering again.
My favorite.
After seeing Hanoi’s French Quarter and the Opera House, (another surprise in Hanoi . . . the exquisite French architecture), April tells me about the “book street” in Hanoi.
Books. Another favorite.
“Can we see it?” I ask. “Sure!” April responds. “But all the books will be in Vietnamese.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say.
And, it really, never does.
The “book street” in Hanoi
The daylight was waning, and we both knew our adventure together was coming to an end. When April walked me back to the hotel, (I had no idea where we were. Those of you who know me well know this comes as no surprise.) she wrote down some other sights that I should be sure not to miss while in Hanoi. And an email address, in case I had any questions or wanted to continue our conversations about Vietnam.
Again, kindness. Every place I turned.
So ends my first (full) day in Hanoi. I was not anticipating writing so much about only one day . . .
I suppose Hanoi continues to surprise me still.
Aimlessly Wandering 