I tense up when the temple keeper asks me to sit down and have a cup of tea. I was sure that they wanted money from me, and I was not about to lose any more cash after I was “robbed” in broad daylight by a fruit vendor on my first day in Hanoi.
Well, I say “robbed,” but it was partly my fault. Unfamiliar with the currency and not having done any research before leaving Taiwan, I fumbled through my wallet. Suddenly the old lady reaches over and snatches a bill from my fingers, and quickly scurries off before I could react. My purchase: a NT$1,000 pineapple.
After learning to avoid the touristy areas such as the eastern part of the Old Quarter, where you see more white people than locals and would-be-scammers pester you incessantly, the trip became more enjoyable. But I still had to remain vigilant, which cast a cloud over my trip to this ancient imperial and colonial capital — dusty, run down and noisy but rich in character and history.
Photo: Han Cheung, Taipei Times
This is the type of place that you do want to wander off as it seems like the streets are safer the further away from the tourist areas — a highlight of my trip was coming across a massive pineapple unloading operation on the side of a busy highway. It was mesmerizing to watch the people move in and out of the sea of fruit, and I started forgetting about the scammers.
FOUND IN TRANSLATION
“I don’t need three of these,” I say firmly as I shove the Buddhist talismans back in the vendor’s hands while motioning for my change.
Photo: Han Cheung, Taipei Times
Most of the unpleasant encounters are minor annoyances such as vendors not offering change after taking a large bill — some will even give you more merchandise to try to match the amount, but it doesn’t even come close. This becomes frustrating, and after my first day I break all my bills into smaller denominations at the hotel and start ignoring any vendor who approaches, while only shopping in stores with fixed prices.
This works until I get to Thay Temple, where the minute I get out of my hired car a man takes me to an ancient-looking temple where he launches into a mostly unintelligible three-minute introduction. He then tries to sell me offerings and incense that would pay for a fancy meal in Hanoi.
“This is for Buddha,” he says in English. “No, it’s for you,” I reply as I walk off.
Photo: Han Cheung, Taipei Times
Once inside, three old men invite me to sit down and offer me tea. For some reason I think they are going to tell me more about the temple, but they immediately present me with a donation book while pointing at Buddha. It is only when I exit the temple that I see the entrance to the real Thay Temple across the road — a ticket for which costs a fraction of what the man asked for the offerings.
Hours later I think, “not again,” when the keeper at Dinh Phung Hung offers me tea. This is a communal worship house for Phung Hung, who rebelled against the ruling Chinese Tang Dynasty and briefly reigned over Vietnam during the 8th century. He’s one of two emperors born here in Duong Lam village, a sleepy, well-preserved farming town about 45km from Hanoi.
I feel better when Binh, my driver for the day, also sits down — he had been fending off potential swindlers and negotiating prices for me all day after the initial mishap at Thay Temple. They converse in Vietnamese for about 10 minutes, then they start talking to me simultaneously. I do not understand anything, and I’m starting to get nervous. Binh calls a number and hands me the phone. It’s the receptionist at my hotel.
Photo: Han Cheung, Taipei Times
“Can you read Chinese?” she asks in English.
It turns out the keeper wants me to translate some of the Chinese plaques in the temple, as most Vietnamese can no longer read Chinese after the French introduced the Latin alphabet in the late 1800s. It’s in classical Chinese, so I have to decipher it into modern Chinese and Google translate it into Vietnamese, which I show Binh and the keeper.
They both laugh and nod, and the keeper shakes my hand. It seems odd that no Chinese-reading Vietnamese or tourist have come here before me.
Photos: Han Cheung, Taipei Times
VICTORS’ PERSPECTIVE
I sip on my ultra sweet, mousse-like cafe au lait in one of those ubiquitous open-air coffee shops where everyone faces the street. The three European men at the next table tell me that they have been here for two weeks, seemingly only interested in partying in the Old Quarter as they are unable to even recommend one place to visit.
Unless you want to mingle with people of that sort, venture beyond the tourist areas — the streets are safe, just learn how to the cross by walking straight into traffic (I watched two women cross a busy, multi-lane freeway). Hanoi’s French-tinged streets with the occasional Chinese-style temple will start looking the same after a while, which means it’s time to visit one of the city’s excellent museums.
The Women’s Museum is one of my favorites. It begins with traditional roles such as marriage and childbirth and moves on to empowerment, female revolutionaries and Mother Goddess worship rituals.
Be aware that all displays will be from the perspective of the communist victors of the Vietnam War, which is apparent at Hoa Lo Prison, where prison guards apparently did all they could to make sure the American prisoners lived comfortably, complete with photos of smiling soldiers playing basketball. The B-52 Victory Museum is also a treat, but don’t bother going inside. The highlight is the US aircraft wreckage and other damaged US military equipment proudly displayed in the front garden.
The Museum of Ethnology is a bit of trek, but well worth it. The museum introduces the languages and customs of Vietnam’s 54 ethnic groups. Here, I fulfilled my dream of visiting a Bahnar communal house, a towering wooden structure raised above ground with a 19-meter high straw roof. Other types of traditional structures abound in the garden, including a Giarai tomb that is adorned with sexually explicit wood-carvings.
FOOLED ONE LAST TIME
The day before I leave, I fall for one final scam.
A friend had told me about a cha ca (Vietnamese-style fish with dill and turmeric served with rice noodles) restaurant on the second floor of a residence where the waitresses are notoriously rude. When I arrive, however, I’m a bit puzzled that door number 14, where the restaurant should be located, is on the odd side of the street. The name is right, though, so I wander in. The waiters are extremely friendly and helpful, which leads me to believe that they’ve renovated and upped their act. When I exit, I realize that the real Cha Ca La Vong is across the street.
Oh, well. At least the food is good. For dessert, I finish off the NT$1,000 pineapple in my hotel room.
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