an epic battle
the car wove in and out and around the flocks of motorbikes that filled the roads, making me slightly nauseous. or was it the guilty feeling in my stomach doing that?
as i sat yesterday in the air conditioned taxi that took us to Da Nang airport out of Hoi An, the light from the setting sun forced my eyes closed and a battle raged in my mind. The muscles in my back and neck began their slow journey into unclenched-ness from the hectic scurrying of the day. The battle unfolded thus: Capitalist Consumer Amy, the one on my left shoulder, until recently subdued by large quantities of good local food and cultural exploration, lifted her head and looked around Hoi An. She saw all the myriad tailor shops touting clothing made to measure in silks and satins. She imagined Amy's closet full of handmade articles, forever reminding her of her trip to Vietnam and making her the envy of her friends and family. She imagined herself clad in a snazzy getup of perhaps a red ao dai (that's the Vietnamese traditional dress with high Chinese neck and panels in the front and back) with black trousers with handmade leather boots. She glanced warily left and right and, seeing no particularly delicious food around, she stood up on her shaky legs. She confronted Culture and Budget Conscious Amy (right shoulder), who was straightening her flowy shirt and hemp necklace and never saw the attack coming. They duked it out for a week in the mists of time. There was kicking and screaming and maybe even some hair pulling. In the end, Capitalist Consumer Amy emerged carrying bags and bags of handmade clothes. From ao dai to skirts, from pants to shirts, they were all there and accounted for. Her wallet was emptier and all the money Culture and Budget Conscious Amy had saved through careful eating and accomodation choices was gone, but she had a shopping high and couldn't be put down. Culture and Budget Conscious Amy was now occupying CCA's former place, slumped in the corner, mumbling something about ancient Cham towers outside of Hoi An... "you can get there on a day trip... see it at sunrise... it's supposed to be beautiful..." "Oh shut up. I'm going to sit by the pool."
And so it was. A week in Hoi An, no culture absorbed, only clothing purchased. No sights seen (aside from a half-hearted viewing of the Japanese covered bridge in the old city. we took a picture. we were there anyway.) We even ate at tourist cafes. Perhaps that's why the unspectacular food. I mean, we are IN VIETNAM. that means we shouldn't be getting Vietnamese dishes that are out of a package. i guess the grilled fish in banana leaf was ok, but nothing shockingly good, really. It was fun, for sure. our tailor at the boutique was adorable (at least a head shorter than us - and that's short) and tiny with a big smile that squished her face. Her name was Vien. She has alllll my measurements and will save them for the next year, just in case i have need for another shirt like that other one, but in green. Anyway, the guilt is fading a bit, as i don't have to stare at the evidence anymore. No, i didn't burn it in a fit of guilt, i shipped it home yesterday. by surface mail. that means 2-4 months by boat. all 20 kilos of it. for you non-metric-minded souls, that's a lot.
so, a flight took us away from Hoi An last night and, an hour later, a taxi took us and a couple of other travellers (Danes) into Hanoi's Old Quarter. In the dark, the people on their plastic stools were just about spilling off the sidewalks at the bia hoi street kitchens lining the narrow streets. It's certainly lively. This morning we took a stroll about town looking for possible alternate accomadation. we ended up deciding to stay at our same hotel in a room only $2 cheaper. Capitalist Consumer Amy has not been re-tamed yet and she's not ready for musty tiny rooms after the pool and a balcony in Hoi An. But on our walk we got excited. This place is really great. there are so many streets and alleys to explore, some of the storefronts are really narrow and there's just general busy-ness happening everywhere. The women with their shoulderbaskets full of tiny vietnamese pineapples or as-yet-unidentified white fruit... it's cool. i'm excited to take a proper look around. and today we made giant leaps in the good food department. a niece of an artist friend of nabia's dad lives here: Trinh. She came to meet us for lunch and took us first to her house, which is long and narrow. We met her mom and her brother and sister and we tried some vietnamese drinks: a fruit juice. One form is very sweet, and one is salty. you can drink them separately or mix them together to taste. we couldn't quite figure out what the fruit was - not a plum.. not a citrus.. a small round thing that was preserved. but tasty! Next she took us to a place called Cha Ca La Vong.
Lights up on a busy hanoi street. Motorbikes zoom past. nabia and Trinh and I stand opposite the restaurant but need to wait for a slight pause in the traffic so we can dart across. the rules are as follows: just start walking. don't stop and DEFinitely don't ever back up. the riders can see you and they can extrapolate your future position given your speed and current location. if you accelerate or slow down, you risk a collision. so just. keep. walking. anyway, we find a pause and go. up the narrow staircase on the left just inside the opening to the street and Trinh opens the door to an air conditioned atmosphere of locals and tourists alike talking and eating and pans sizzling. The humid heat is left outside for now. The sweat on my neck and back starts to evaporate. We sit and the waitress immediately brings over... not menus... food. there's only one dish served here, so that's what you get. no menus necessary. She brings us each a small empty bowl with chopsticks and a plate of cold white bun noodles. she also places some plates and bowls in the middle: one with fish sauce and chilis (nuoc nam), one with shrimp sauce and chilis (nam tom - none for me thanks), one little plate of peanuts, one with just spring onions, and one heaped high with dill and scallions. a few minutes go by and the main drag arrives: a little coal stove with a pan on top holding nuggets of a white fish frying in oil. Trinh leads the way. She piles up some of the fish in the pan, leaving oil for use. A few chopstickfuls of the dill/onion mixture go in and start to sizzle alongside the fish. we each put some noodles in our bowl and then we get some fish and some greens... then just a drop or two of the chili mixture of your choice (the shrimp one looks purple and a little foamy for my taste... i'll stick with the familiar clear brown of the fish sauce) and topped with the peanuts. let me tell you, friends, this is tasty food. cha ca. mm mm good.
ok. those are my stories. i'll have more to share about Hanoi when we've explored a bit more. we're meeting trinh again for a dinner (she's really nice) of pho (beef noodle soup) on the street with everybody we saw while driving in last night. We get to sit on the sidewalks on the little plastic stools. hooray. Culture and Budget Conscious Amy is making a comeback.
In other news, vietnam blocks my blog! Apparently Vietnam censors some websites and somebody with a blogger blog must have done something bad. i can post new things, but i can't see anything on blogspot. weird. i guess it is communist...
i made some notes yesterday about things to blog, but i left my journal upstairs, and given that our room is on the 80 millionth floor, i'll just leave it at this.
cam on (thank you) and goodnight,
amy
email me
as i sat yesterday in the air conditioned taxi that took us to Da Nang airport out of Hoi An, the light from the setting sun forced my eyes closed and a battle raged in my mind. The muscles in my back and neck began their slow journey into unclenched-ness from the hectic scurrying of the day. The battle unfolded thus: Capitalist Consumer Amy, the one on my left shoulder, until recently subdued by large quantities of good local food and cultural exploration, lifted her head and looked around Hoi An. She saw all the myriad tailor shops touting clothing made to measure in silks and satins. She imagined Amy's closet full of handmade articles, forever reminding her of her trip to Vietnam and making her the envy of her friends and family. She imagined herself clad in a snazzy getup of perhaps a red ao dai (that's the Vietnamese traditional dress with high Chinese neck and panels in the front and back) with black trousers with handmade leather boots. She glanced warily left and right and, seeing no particularly delicious food around, she stood up on her shaky legs. She confronted Culture and Budget Conscious Amy (right shoulder), who was straightening her flowy shirt and hemp necklace and never saw the attack coming. They duked it out for a week in the mists of time. There was kicking and screaming and maybe even some hair pulling. In the end, Capitalist Consumer Amy emerged carrying bags and bags of handmade clothes. From ao dai to skirts, from pants to shirts, they were all there and accounted for. Her wallet was emptier and all the money Culture and Budget Conscious Amy had saved through careful eating and accomodation choices was gone, but she had a shopping high and couldn't be put down. Culture and Budget Conscious Amy was now occupying CCA's former place, slumped in the corner, mumbling something about ancient Cham towers outside of Hoi An... "you can get there on a day trip... see it at sunrise... it's supposed to be beautiful..." "Oh shut up. I'm going to sit by the pool."
And so it was. A week in Hoi An, no culture absorbed, only clothing purchased. No sights seen (aside from a half-hearted viewing of the Japanese covered bridge in the old city. we took a picture. we were there anyway.) We even ate at tourist cafes. Perhaps that's why the unspectacular food. I mean, we are IN VIETNAM. that means we shouldn't be getting Vietnamese dishes that are out of a package. i guess the grilled fish in banana leaf was ok, but nothing shockingly good, really. It was fun, for sure. our tailor at the boutique was adorable (at least a head shorter than us - and that's short) and tiny with a big smile that squished her face. Her name was Vien. She has alllll my measurements and will save them for the next year, just in case i have need for another shirt like that other one, but in green. Anyway, the guilt is fading a bit, as i don't have to stare at the evidence anymore. No, i didn't burn it in a fit of guilt, i shipped it home yesterday. by surface mail. that means 2-4 months by boat. all 20 kilos of it. for you non-metric-minded souls, that's a lot.
so, a flight took us away from Hoi An last night and, an hour later, a taxi took us and a couple of other travellers (Danes) into Hanoi's Old Quarter. In the dark, the people on their plastic stools were just about spilling off the sidewalks at the bia hoi street kitchens lining the narrow streets. It's certainly lively. This morning we took a stroll about town looking for possible alternate accomadation. we ended up deciding to stay at our same hotel in a room only $2 cheaper. Capitalist Consumer Amy has not been re-tamed yet and she's not ready for musty tiny rooms after the pool and a balcony in Hoi An. But on our walk we got excited. This place is really great. there are so many streets and alleys to explore, some of the storefronts are really narrow and there's just general busy-ness happening everywhere. The women with their shoulderbaskets full of tiny vietnamese pineapples or as-yet-unidentified white fruit... it's cool. i'm excited to take a proper look around. and today we made giant leaps in the good food department. a niece of an artist friend of nabia's dad lives here: Trinh. She came to meet us for lunch and took us first to her house, which is long and narrow. We met her mom and her brother and sister and we tried some vietnamese drinks: a fruit juice. One form is very sweet, and one is salty. you can drink them separately or mix them together to taste. we couldn't quite figure out what the fruit was - not a plum.. not a citrus.. a small round thing that was preserved. but tasty! Next she took us to a place called Cha Ca La Vong.
Lights up on a busy hanoi street. Motorbikes zoom past. nabia and Trinh and I stand opposite the restaurant but need to wait for a slight pause in the traffic so we can dart across. the rules are as follows: just start walking. don't stop and DEFinitely don't ever back up. the riders can see you and they can extrapolate your future position given your speed and current location. if you accelerate or slow down, you risk a collision. so just. keep. walking. anyway, we find a pause and go. up the narrow staircase on the left just inside the opening to the street and Trinh opens the door to an air conditioned atmosphere of locals and tourists alike talking and eating and pans sizzling. The humid heat is left outside for now. The sweat on my neck and back starts to evaporate. We sit and the waitress immediately brings over... not menus... food. there's only one dish served here, so that's what you get. no menus necessary. She brings us each a small empty bowl with chopsticks and a plate of cold white bun noodles. she also places some plates and bowls in the middle: one with fish sauce and chilis (nuoc nam), one with shrimp sauce and chilis (nam tom - none for me thanks), one little plate of peanuts, one with just spring onions, and one heaped high with dill and scallions. a few minutes go by and the main drag arrives: a little coal stove with a pan on top holding nuggets of a white fish frying in oil. Trinh leads the way. She piles up some of the fish in the pan, leaving oil for use. A few chopstickfuls of the dill/onion mixture go in and start to sizzle alongside the fish. we each put some noodles in our bowl and then we get some fish and some greens... then just a drop or two of the chili mixture of your choice (the shrimp one looks purple and a little foamy for my taste... i'll stick with the familiar clear brown of the fish sauce) and topped with the peanuts. let me tell you, friends, this is tasty food. cha ca. mm mm good.
ok. those are my stories. i'll have more to share about Hanoi when we've explored a bit more. we're meeting trinh again for a dinner (she's really nice) of pho (beef noodle soup) on the street with everybody we saw while driving in last night. We get to sit on the sidewalks on the little plastic stools. hooray. Culture and Budget Conscious Amy is making a comeback.
In other news, vietnam blocks my blog! Apparently Vietnam censors some websites and somebody with a blogger blog must have done something bad. i can post new things, but i can't see anything on blogspot. weird. i guess it is communist...
i made some notes yesterday about things to blog, but i left my journal upstairs, and given that our room is on the 80 millionth floor, i'll just leave it at this.
cam on (thank you) and goodnight,
amy
email me
posted by theonetheycallamy at 6/26/2005 06:41:00 AM
3 Comments:
Amy, Amy, Amy,
Awesome entry. You had my mom reading over my shoulder, both of us laughing at your inner struggle. Don't worry too much. You are a damn good citizen of the world. You have a right to be comfortable for a while if you need it. Food sounds great as usual...not quite the Saigon Grill I ate for lunch yesterday. I can't wait to see your clothes!!!
Miss you, as usual.
-Em
Knowing you as well as I do (and your friends can certainly understand as well), that battle within your self must have been humongous. But, you made it out intact, with some wonderful, custom-made clothes to show for it, so I think you won.
I can't wait to unpack the goodies, but that won't be for a long while!
Hanoi sounds fascinating, and how delicious the food sounds! Glad that you've met another nice person to show you around and get you started on your new adventures.
Had a wonderful visit at your brother's restaurant/bar this weekend- it was yummy too (but just plain ol' american).
Love,mom
Amy,
I'm reading...finally! Yeah. And what an entry to start with....now you 've got me hooked. Beautiful imagery and very entertaining. Such an amazing experience you're having. I can't wait to see the clothes as well!!
Off to read more,
Suzanne
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