Welcome to Viet Nam!

We have flown into the future. Crossing the international dateline, we lost February 3rd and the birthdays of Lydia, Maggie and Bianca. We'll plan to celebrate them and the Feast of St. Blaise twice next year. The realization that we'll never know what Feb 3, 2009 was like is tempered by the knowledge that we'll get to experience Feb. 23, 2009 twice. We hope it's a good day (x2)


Today - Feb 4 - is filled with the sights, sounds and smells of Hanoi the way it seems to have been for hundreds of years --- with one big exception --- the motorcycles. Thousands, millions - or at least one for each of the 6 million people who live here - are zooming around on the streets. The driver is often not alone. Three or four others squeeze on and, in one case, a large golden retriever wedges himself between driver and passenger. It reminds us of the easy-reader book BEARS ON WHEELS. ("Four on top, five on top, six - oops! One on top.") They also carry a variety of goods with them, sometimes three times larger than the motorcycle.

Our guide gives us survival instructions for pedestrians in Hanoi trying to cross a street:
First, take a deep breath. Then 1) never run; 2) never stop; 3) never back up. It's worked for us so far. Our walking tour of the Old Quarters is a feast for the senses. Each street features a particular product, so there's tin street, wedding gift street, silk street, shoe street, etc. We're entranced by the vivid colors of three foot tall "wedding cakes" made of candy or tea or food to give the bride's parents, the chirping of birds in hanging bird cages that compete with the roar of motorcycles, the delectable aromas from sidewalk kitchens where pots boil, steam and fry meats, greens and exotic spices.
This is Hanoi.

A highlight of the walk is our exploration of a long dark alley where 32 families live in what are known as "tube houses." We peek into open doors where families live in spaces as small as 81 square feet. (9 x9 feet) There are two or three floors above this bottom room where they sleep. One bathroom is shared by all 32 families! There are 52 thousand people per one kilometer in the Old Quarters. Further out homes stand side by side looking like tiny versions of skyscrapers. Our tour guide, Lam, explains that land is so expensive that families buy a small plot of land and build up.

Our group of sixteen is congenial and fun. Strangely, there are six left-handers amongst us and six doctors, two of whom still work. If you're wondering about a connection, the answer is "yes." Most of the doctors are left-handed, and one is ambidexterous. Hmmm. Does someone want to conduct a study? Lam is a native of Hanoi where his family has always lived. He's the father of two young girls and his wife works in the tour office. We are becoming accustomed to his inflection and accent as he tells us stories of his city and his country.

One story that interested his American group very much was about John McCain. It seems that the young pilot had flown over Hanoi to take out the power plant. He missed the first time and was making a second go-around when his plane was shot down. He bailed out and landed, unconscious, in Westlake, a large lake in the city. Fishermen and bystanders hurried to rescue him. And we all know the rest of the story. Tomorrow we'll visit the Hanoi Hilton where he and 365 (!) other American pilots were imprisoned. Isn't it strange that 37 years after a terrible war we can visit and appreciate a country once our enemy? It's a testament to the power of time to heal. As we looked out over Westlake, imagining the damaged parachute and wounded pilot falling into the green water of this faraway city, we hoped that St. Joseph, for whom the Cathedral in the heart of the city is named, will call down blessings on the new relationship between our two countries.
On your mark, get set, go!