Tag: Hanoi

not in my own skin

Always we see times colliding and melting together. The woman on her bike in the early morning. The back of the bike is loaded with produce that she will sell today. As she walks down the street, the motor bikes whizz past her, all busy, all rushing. They are the predominant inhabitants of these streets. There are far fewer bicycles than there were 20 years ago. They no longer command the speed of the streets and take very few parking places.

The cars, of which this picture has only one of a quite moderate size invade and take up so much room. There are big ones–SUVs of the biggest variety that honk and push through. Everything else, motorbikes, bikes and pedestrians slow those huge monsters down, but they persist. They don’t feel like the trucks delivering or the buses picking up and letting off or touring. The SUVs feel like money being shown off. Rarely is there more than one person in those SUVs and that person is occupying valuable real estate. And currently, as a walker or sometimes motorbike rider, those SUVs are what puts the fear of god in me.

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Posted on by Suzanne Buchko 0

yes, morning

Morning. 

Two things.

We are in the middle of the mid-autumn festival.  I’ve read about it and expect the streets of pop up shops, kids toys and general junkies, and then stages filled with traditional dance and performance.  Well, there was a lot of little pop ups fulfilling the expectation, but the performance . . . . Julia was in heaven!  The stage that we were close to (and there are at least three stages) was a performance contest with singers and back up dancers doing a version of K-pop. Julia loves, loves, loves K-Pop.  And excuse me if I am unaware of a vibrant V-pop industry, but my information about pop music in general is from Julia.  Perhaps now, I will hear more V-pop during our days.

The music and performances were fun.  It took us awhile to find the right perch to see it from and when we did, we found screaming girls and young people who were singing along with some of the singers.  

So . . . so far, we’ve found karaoke in Hanoi and now k-pop.  This is an unexpected journey.

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Posted on by Suzanne Buchko 0

a few more days in Ha Noi

This is scribblings from at least two days.  Just impressions and pictures without much pondering.

Cafe sitting. Finding a place a few doors down from our alley to sit for breakfast.  Lots of light streams in from a sky light three stories up.  

Sitting after breakfast.  Not at all my plan. To the extent that what I’ve thought of is a plan.  I wanted to be out moving during the early morning avoiding if we could the hottest heat of the day.  As it is, we wait for our friend in this pleasant cafe close to our house, but by the time she comes and we go walking, we will be in the hottest part of the day.

I haven’t settled into the length of a days without strict structure.  Not yet.  I am still wanting accomplishment.  Boxes to tick off.  

But sitting in the light is a good thing. 

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Posted on by Suzanne Buchko 0

Ha Noi

After the pristine guest house and ways in general of Tokyo, we plunge into Ha Noi’s old quarter.  I was here 20 years ago with Jennifer who was adopting Mai how was a mere 6 months old at the time.  Ha Noi is both insanely busy and chaotic and daring and completely unknown, and then, it is like coming home.  I recognize the chaos, the grittiness of a place build over and over upon itself.  The layers of history, of living, of what is decaying underneath what is thriving.

And we’ve been here since 2 a.m.

We are staying in a very funky place—the absolute opposite of Guest House Wagokoro in Arakawa.  

Autumn House is down a very deep and dark and narrow alley.  A house of three narrow floors—one room per floor—the only “window” in each room is a floor to ceiling french door that opens to a tiny balcony and another back alley.  Right now it feels a bit unnerving, but give me a few days to see how I feel.  

20 years ago, I stepped out of our hotel and a shot of terror ran through me at the idea that if I was not careful I would could make an unthinking turn and never find my way back to the hotel.  This morning I am not as fearful, but I do carefully take a picture of the entrance to our alley and note the building across the street.

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Posted on by Suzanne Buchko 0