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Maybe I'll get to them later…
Day 0: Travel day
Anyway. The flight from home to Frankfurt was very smooth. I had called the first airline a few days before to ask them to connect my flights from home to Singapore since I had needed to book them separately. In that case, I would be able to check my bag in all the way to Singapore instead of picking it up in Frankfurt and going through check-in and security again. Also, in case my first flight was delayed, I'd maybe have some leeway since the latter flight would know about me and could possibly wait.
However, the airline said they couldn't add two separate booking numbers to one trip. I sort of knew it couldn't be right since they were both Star Alliance members so I was a bit annoyed when hanging up.
I tried again when checking by bag in at the airport and she was so nice about it. She checked my bag in to Singapore so I wouldn't have to worry about it in Frankfurt but checked me/gave me my boarding passes for the entire route, i.e. also from Singapore to Hanoi. My superior is trying to implement this "complement of the week" thing… And she should definitely get that!
The flight to Frankfurt was just over the hours. I got my computer out though I didn't get much writing done, and slept part of the way too. Got to Frankfurt on time, found the gate for my next flight on the screens and was going to sit down and find something small to eat and maybe call home.
I went through security where they stopped my bag for not having taken out my camera. And apparently I hadn't stuffed my things well enough into the tray so my hoodie got stuck in the conveyor belt and they had to stop the whole thing to get the sleeve out. The woman who was checking my bag for the camera was trying to get the dirt from the belt off my hoodie, and (seemingly not speaking any English), sighed and seemed sorry that she couldn't rub it off. Way nicer than back home, I'm pretty sure the security staff wouldn't give a damn. And I just smiled and tried to convince her that it was ok. It wasn't that bad plus it obviously was my fault.
When I was approaching the wing where my gate is, there's this guy checking boarding cards and asking where passengers are going. I show him my boarding pass and he says "oh, you're flying Singaporean. It's a different terminal. This is for Singapore with Lufthansa. You need to go to B22. It's quite far. You should run."
Okay so…I understand flights heading for the same destination…maybe at even, half or quarter hours. But at 21.55?! Why would different airlines schedule flights at that exact time for the same destination?!
I had one and a half hours until my next flight so I wasn't quite stressed enough to run even though he told me to. I reached some other screens and they said it was an 11 minute walk so I thought I'd be fine. Walked quickly though. Had to take a train. Had to go security again. This time though, it was so much slower.
There was only one line and for the first 10 minutes or so it just didn't move at all. There weren't that many people ahead of me but the (lack of) speed at which the line moved eventually even got me slightly nervous. It didn't help that the police cut the queue with some people they seemed to be escorting. And when I was finally the first in line, the security guy told me with an almost annoyingly calm and slow voice "madam, please! Back off a bit."
I saw annoyingly slow because it slowed him down with serving the people in front of me.
This one guy had even pled if he could skip the line because he had a flight to Argentina and 10. I think we all felt how sincere he was and worried he'd miss his flight but the problem was that our flights were at 9.50 or 55 so we didn't feel like we could afford him in front of us.
I finally got through and then got to my gate around 40 minutes before departure. 11 minutes to walk from the other (wrong terminal wing) would maybe have been true if not because of the security check. I had taken me more like 40 minutes to get here.
I decided to wait a bit before boarding. It was too late (and far away) to try to find anything to eat, plus I'd probably get something as soon as we'd take off but I didn't want to get seated too early when I would be sitting for the next 12 hours or so.
There weren't too many people left when I decided to board, though there were still some. When the woman scanned my ticket, it gave an error saying I had to go to the service desk. So I talked to the woman at the desk next to the boarding entrance who asked to see my visa for Vietnam.
I got my phone out and showed her the e-visa application I had submitted late Monday night. I had checked the status in the morning but then it still said processing.
This woman told me this wasn't a visa.
"I know that. It's the application because the visa hasn't come through yet, but it should be by tomorrow."
They said they couldn't let me board without a visa. I tried telling them again that I had applied and that I my visa would be ready by the time I got to Singapore.
"I'm sorry. We're just following procedures. They're very strict. We can't let you onboard unless you have a visa."
They said I needed the visa before boarding this flight. I tried to argue that they couldn't expect me to present a visa for Vietnam, since they don't allow the application until like 5 days prior to arrival, but since there were two days between my departure from Frankfurt and my arrival to Hanoi, and the processing time for the visa was three days, I could almost impossibly have a visa ready prior to the first leg of the journey.
I said that Vietnam also has visas on arrival for people living in a country without a visa-granting authority (I'm reading "without a Vietnamese embassy"), and who is travelling through multiple countries prior to arrival to Hanoi. I would think I qualify for that, worst case scenario. But the airport staff told me those visas were only issued at a particular airport, and not the one in Hanoi.
Oh, and I guess this is where I remember to tell you that my trip to Denmark to renew my passport was completely useless because I haven't received it yet. The embassy only receives mail once a month, as if we live on the freaking North Pole or something, instead of a freaking Western AND neighbouring country!! And my passport wasn't in the March delivery despite having waited for more than a month…
So you can imagine how annoyed I was standing there, being denied boarding on the trip of a lifetime, thinking I would not have needed a visa and would not have gotten myself into this situation if the goddamn passport had arrived so I could travel visa-free!
All people had boarded now, or at least there weren't any people around anymore.
"You can travel tomorrow when the visa is through," one of the women told me.
"My trip IS tomorrow!!" I wanted to shout at her.
It seems someone read my thoughts though and the woman who had been supervising the whole process finally said "the only thing I can do is to let you on this flight. But you can get in trouble in Singapore if you don't have the visa yet."
"Yes, exactly, that's fine and I completely understand that," I replied, sighing that they finally understood what I had been trying to get at the entire time.
So at last I was allowed to board. Grateful, relieved, relaxed.
I had been looking forward to this part. It's been a while since I flew proper long haul. Love the atmosphere where people can get up to get something in the "kitchen" anytime. People standing up to talk to travel companions sitting elsewhere in the plane or just for the sake of stretching. Or getting proper food onboard and choosing your dish! Love it.
Thought I would make time and start blogging about all the other things I wanted to tell you about but somehow ended up not taking my computer out at all.
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I went through the huge collection of series and movies in the in-seat entertainment system, which included new movies like The Whale and Everything, Everywhere All at Once (or whatever it's called) and lots of other stuff. Lots of Bollywood and Chinese and Korean and other films and categories you could search by too. I decided to watch something light though, Moana, the Disney film.
I was seated in the aisle and the woman in the middle asked to get past sometime after dinner. I made use of having to get up to stretch a bit, find my tooth brush and went to brush my teeth. When I got to toilet to spit, I noticed that they had travel dental kits by the sink that you could freely take. Maybe next time if I can't be bothered to pack as smartly as I had now. (Speaking of which, my checked backpack only weighs around 11 kg. Travelling light for the win! So I have plenty of space to shop the next month!)
I don't know what time it was when I had finished brushing my teeth and decided to try to sleep. I'm guessing around or just past midnight German time. The cabin lights were out and window shields down even though it was dark outside anyway, and most other people were also trying to sleep so there was minimal light from other people's screens to disturb.
Day 1: Lawyers' reunion and pet attack
I think it was around 6 AM when I looked at the time so I must have got considerable sleep. So much I hardly believe it myself. Tried to sleep a bit more but was slightly cold despite the hoodie, scarf and blanket we had all been provided with. Thought of asking for an additional blanket but kinda couldn't be bothered to, and thought they'd probably wake us up soon anyway.
It was tough deciding on breakfast; omelette with cream cheese and chicken fillet or Asian noodles with marinated beef. I thought I'd probably regret getting the omelette but still decided on the protein richer option. It helped that everyone around me had also ordered the omelette but I don't think I would have regretted anything anyway because it was so good. The omelette was okay but with the cream cheese, it sort of felt like the texture of cheesy tortellini. There were some cooked tomatoes too but the best part were the mushrooms. Wow, the mushrooms tasted more mushrooms than I could even cook them myself.
The pilot announced we'd soon be landing in Singapore where it was 30° C with some rain.
I had forgotten what it was like but oh, how I love that feeling getting off the comfortably cooled airplane and stepping onto the air bridge and you feel the sudden change in temperature. The heat and the humidity greets you with its sweaty arms and I couldn't help but smile to myself.
The second impression that made me smile was the vending machines from which you could buy hot, ready to serve meals. I don't remember having seen one of those since dad and I were in Japan in 2008!
The rest of the airport was as clean as I remembered it from when I was last there with my parents in…perhaps 2007? With palm and other trees inside.
For a moment, I got nervous that the woman at the border control would stop me because of the visa thing but she didn't even ask about it. I just went through, without even having to queue to get through.
I used to airport's free WiFi and found out that my visa had, like I was sure it would on time, come through. So now I could definitely relax and know I'd be fine the rest of the way.
I texted home and to my friends that I had arrived. They had scheduled dinner but warned that they had been extremely busy and stressed with work since we last met and that, consequently, they had aged a lot.
I had already downloaded Grab at home and inserted my payment methods, an Asian app for ordering all kinds of things including transport, kind of like Uber, and food, like…whatever those fast food apps are called, and goodness knows what else you can do with it. Works in both Singapore and Vietnam and maybe Laos too. Haven't checked… Anyway, so I ordered a car to take me to my friend's.
It's a somewhat weird feeling arriving to Southeast Asia. Back home, I'm not used to thinking of myself as different, even though I am. And people, particularly at the airport back home, think I'm just another tourist. Here, I think of myself as different, but I'm not. I could be anyone. I could be local. Especially in Singapore where everyone speaks English anyway (though I'll admit, I can't quite pull the "Singlish" accent. Maybe I could have back in uni when I was always with my Malay and Singaporean friends). The only thing that possibly distinguishes me from the locals is if and when I walk around with my camera.
The drive was around half an hour to my friend's place. Some traffic on the way but no major congestions. Just so green. Trees everywhere. Some rain on the way but not too much and not the entire time.
My friend greeted me on the fourth floor of the 25 or so floor building and welcomed me inside a dining and living room in a really nice, homely flat. I got to leave my bags in the guest room and then he showed me the study, the kitchen, the bathroom. We sat down to have a drink, chat, catch up. I tried a yuzu sake non-alcoholic cocktail, though it was a tough choice (I've forgotten what the other options were though). But he said non-alcoholic cocktails had gained a lot of popularity in recent years so I felt like I should try that.
We established it must have been around 8 years since we last saw each other when he visited me with his at the time girlfriend, now wife, and his parents in-law.
I took a shower, and brushed my teeth to be fresh when our other friend from uni would arrive. It's at that point that the humidity hits you because you feel like you'll never get dry. I definitely needed to put something cooler on than the long pants.
Our other friend arrived and so did the food. The pet cat also finally decided to make an appearance. My friend and his wife warned us he could be a bit naughty, biting, but he seemed nice enough.
They had intended to cook for me but they mostly cooked Western food and thought it'd be more appropriate with Singaporean food and had thus decided to order, and I definitely appreciated that.
We got…like everything. Beef, pork, fish, vegetables, nut… something. With rice. Everything was so good. We ate with forks and spoons. Different sauces with everything. I even tried the fish, though I don't usually eat fish, particularly this far from home but it was really good and interesting. I say interesting because parts of it was so firm that it kinda felt and tasted like chicken.
We sat chatting about everything and nothing, which reminded me of old dinner parties we had had back in uni. To me they looked exactly the same as we did back then. They are both what I would call "hardcore" lawyers, working until late every night (or even morning!). So we, the ladies, let them go on for a bit about legal talk about firms, common acquaintances etc., while we chatted about non-legal stuff.
For dessert, we got gula melaka. Apparently some rather typical thing with crushed ice, coconut milk, and tapioca and coconut in brown sugar. Very delicious actually. And on top of that, our friend had brought Japanese cream puffs.
We talked until late and my friends needed to go to sleep since they were also off to the airport in the morning for a one-week holiday in Borneo. My friend warned me to not let the cat out of the kitchen if I needed to go to the bathroom at night.
My troubles, however, did not seem to be not letting him out. It was when I was getting out of the bathroom and had to get out of the kitchen. The cat was by the door...and I had to turn the bathroom lights off when leaving obviously but then I couldn't see the cat, I only heard it and my friends I was staying with had said to our other friend, earlier that evening, that 'at least he's not meowing!'
'Oh, why? What does that mean?' he had asked.
'That means he's going to attack you.'
So...let's just say it wasn't very comforting when he started meowing in the dark.
Got a little scratch on my knee. Heard him prepare for another attack. Only had my bag of toiletries to 'defend' myself with. Tried to get out of the kitchen without seeing anything and just hope that the cat hadn't also got out.
Day 2: Little India, dried fish skin and ramen
I fell asleep right away but woke up at around 5. Tried to fall back asleep. Couldn't. Jet lag I figured. Eventually had to go to the bathroom again but brought my phone with me this time - and the toiletries bag again just to defend myself. And just figured if I was quick enough, then he could only meow but not attack. So I got out safe. Worked a bit on my social media search, as I noticed that the article that was being written about me had got published.
Funny story. An acquaintance of mine, when she did her search for her biological mother a few years ago, had posted on her page something along the lines of 'thank you to...for writing my story'. When I checked the guy out, she wasn't the only mutual friend of ours, but he was also friends with a good Vietnamese friend of mine and his wife. So I thought I have to get in touch with this guy! Turns out they're in-laws! And he was more than happy to write my story.
So suddenly I had received comments and e-mails to the e-mail I had created, saying they had read my story and were so touched by it, and wishing me the best in my search. So I was checking that out and some stuff... Fell asleep maybe around...6.30 and was absolutely not in the mood to get up when my alarm rang at 8.30.
I eventually managed to get up though. The cat was much nicer now but I still kept a safe distance. I left at the same time as my friends who were headed for the airport. Got an extra key so I could get my bag later, and would just hide the key and their friend and catsitter could get the key when she came back.
My friends had lent me their metro card so I could take the metro, which was like just around the corner. I decided to head for Little India rather than China Town, since I figured Vietnam would have its own China Town while probably not anything Indian.
The metro was super smooth and easy to navigate, and unlike the London Tube or whatever, it was air conditioned, so it felt really nice to go down there despite the humidity and heat outside.
I arrived to Little India and was pretty much in a market the moment I stepped out of the station. A fowl smell of raw...poultry or whatever, that I recognized from other markets around the world hit me. Strangely, since I didn't really see any raw meat around. Then as I continued along the stalls, it got mixed with a sweet smell of some fruits I didn't recognize. Then there were (fast) food stalls, or perhaps what you would call a food 'court', where people sat eating along the hallway. |
Then I walked past this stall that had Indian sweets that I had forgotten existed, but when I saw them, I immediately recognized them; they taste like marzipan but instead of being made of almonds, they're made of cashews. My friend and I bought quite a few of them and some other sweets when we were in India, and they had those other types of sweets as well. I wanted to get some but thought I'd find another stall, plus I didn't have any cash.
Quite sadly, I didn't find my way back to the place, and I didn't find any other place that sold them after I managed to find an ATM. Maybe that's for the best. I would have eaten it all! Maybe I can find some when I come back.
I did find some chicken masala with roti or whatever bread it was. Found a temple and took my shoes off to enter as there was lots of music coming from inside. I got a sneak peak inside but I was wearing shorts and a tank top so I didn't feel appropriately dressed to go inside.
Then I needed to head back to my friends' place. So it was a super short visit.
When I got out of the metro, it had started drizzling. They had built a roof over most of the way to the building, but I ran the last way. The cat was much nicer now so I even filled its water bowl. Then booked a cab, locked the door, hid the key.
It started pouring while on the way to the airport. So much I was wondering how the driver managed to see anything out the window. So maybe, at least for that day, it was good that I only had those few hours in the morning to look around. I would have got completely soaked otherwise.
It was Saturday so the traffic was smooth. Check-in was easy. The lady was kind enough to tell me that I needed to print out the e-visa and pointed me to a service desk just a few meters away that would print for me. Cost 2 SGD (Singaporean Dollar). I bet we don't have any service like that at home.
I was starting to get slightly hungry so I looked for something to eat. I had some, but not excessive time, and considering how slowly I eat, I didn't want to sit down to get anything, though they had a food court with lots of really delicious options. But I found a 7-eleven where I got some iced jasmine tea (wow, it was good! Unsweetened.) and I just had to try this thing they had: dried fish skin. Spicy! They had non-spicy too but if you know anything about me since I got back from India...spice is the love of my life.
They also had mushroom jerky(!) but it was so sweetened, I decided not to buy that. At least not now. And dried salmon skin. But I just went with 'normal' dried fish skin. What made it even more confusing was that it, or the spice or whatever, was called 'salted egg', or in my case 'spicy salted egg'. So...salted egg dried fish skin. What does that even mean?!
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So it warned on the package that it was 'dangerously addictive'. I took a first bite and...it tasted quite fishy. Then I had another bite, a mixture of being hungry and of wanting to give it a second chance. And let's just say that I can now strongly agree with the warning statement.
I finished watching a film on the plane that I hadn't finished on the last flight, Official Competition, with Penelope Cruz and Antonio Banderas. Slept a bit. Wrote a bit. Then we were served with some food. Smaller boxes than on the long-haul though. Beef stew and...some other thing which I think was chicken and fish. So I went with the beef. Quite delicious. And a very chocolatey ice cream afterwards. I don't really remember ever having got ice cream on any of the other long haulers I did with my family back in the days but seems to be a thing now.
It was also cloudy in Vietnam. Colder. I would guess around 22 degrees. I had booked a cab through the AirBnB I am staying with and needed to message my host when I was outside so she could tell the cab to drive up to the short-term meeting spot. The WiFi was considerably slower than in Singapore and kept disconnecting as well.
We drove out onto a 4 or even 5-lane highway with mostly cars. There were a few drizzles in the air. The closer we got to the city, the more motorbikes (read scooters) there were. The driver asked me on the way if I wanted Wifi. It was as if he had read my thoughts because I had forgotten to save the instructions for getting to, or finding my room. He activated hot spot so I could surf, and as soon as I opened the instructions and realized it was a PDF, I remembered that actually I had downloaded them. So I thanked him for the WiFi, said I didn't need it anymore, but I don't think he understood. He left it on at least, but I felt car sick looking at the phone, plus I rather wanted to look outside. After all, this is where I'll spend the next month or so.
We ended up in a tiny street and the driver pointed me to an open blue metal gate. I paid and thanked him for the ride, found the instructions on my phone and found my room. It's small but got everything I need, so to speak. I was fairly exhausted but still decided to take a look around to maybe find some dinner.
There are lots of places around. Typical places where people sit on tiny chairs on the pavement or in small 'dents' (because you'd hardly call them rooms, at least not in a Western restaurant-setting) in the buildings. Some of the really 'traditional' places where people sit outside and do the dishes in big buckets or tubs. Other places slightly more upscale, with normal-size chairs and tables.
I found a place with normal chairs that seemed to have something that looked quite delicious. Nobody spoke English though and the menu was only in Vietnamese. When I asked what it was, they had to use Google Translate. Not the best translation, I think it turned into 'inside organ storage'. But 'organ' was enough for me to smile politely and decide on finding another place. I took another look at the dish someone was eating on the way out, and thought to myself that even knowing that it's organs, it still looks a lot more delicious than the organ-stuff we have back home.
Eventually I sort of gave up on finding anything because most places didn't even really have a menu (either, I'm guessing they just had one thing that people ordered, or then the menu was on the wall behind the counter so then you can't even point at anything without pointing at everything) so I ended up in a Japanese restaurant just across the street from my AirBnB. At first, I sort of panicked because they only seemed to have sushi, sashimi, raw fish basically, which I don't like. But then, thankfully, the last page was with ramen. So I ordered one of those.
After dinner, I just headed back to my room with the intention of going to sleep at a reasonable time. It was more like...past midnight. I was too tired to work on my social media campaign but apparently not tired enough to search for salsa socials. It definitely made me even more alert when I learned of a 3-day salsa (/bachata/kizomba) congress next weekend! And only like half an hour walk from where I'm staying. I couldn't believe it.
And to top it off, after the salsa festival, there was an optional cruise on Halong Bay (where I wanted to go anyway) on a private boat and then on a private island, with both nights obviously ending with dance socials! My Gooood. The first night on the cruise was fully booked but I managed to book one of the very last spots on the private island. So excited!
Day 3: Old Quarter, Festival of Tourism and dining like a local
I had slept like a rock and was still heavily asleep when the alarm rang but when it did, I immediately felt awake. Got up, did some more work (contacted interpreters, posted some stuff and more), wrote... Doing a search for ones parents, researching possible travel (or salsa) activities AND blogging could easily be a full time job! So I wasn't out the door until around noon, when I was pretty much starving. Decided to head to the Old Quarter. It was only around a 15 minute walk away, but it was gray and drizzly. I had originally taken my cardigan, but returned to my room to leave it at home and take my light jacket instead. It was a good choice, because I could use the hood to not get wet. Not that it got wet. It's as if it's so...warm or humid that the pavement wasn't even wet. But still enough to be annoying in the face. Enough to make me wonder whether I should rather try to find some museums or something so I could stay inside.
I walked past a street food place that seemed to have really yummy nem, Vietnamese spring rolls. So I ordered three of them to go. They were cheap, like you would hardly get one spring roll for that price at home, even though you'd buy them frozen, in a package of 20, in a cheap supermarket. But everything sounds so outrageously expensive because they're in the tens of thousands if not hundred. 10,000 VND (Vietnamese Dong) per spring roll. That's around 40 cents/0.4 €). And that even included salad and some drink!
I approached the Old Quarter and got to some metal fences blocking off traffic. I squeezed through the gates and could now see the, probably, most famous lake in Hanoi with the recognizable pagoda in the middle. On the blocked road, there were kids driving around on toy cars and vehicles. There seemed to be some festival or something. Also think I heard some fun rides somewhere. I went to find a bench by the lake though where I could eat my spring rolls.
I've tried better nems; the crust was nothing special but the content was delicious though. Didn't really dare eat the salad since raw vegetables are usually rinsed in tap water which is unsafe, at least for us who aren't used to it (though I accidentally had iced water at the Japanese restaurant. In my defence, I didn't realize there was ice in the glass until I had already started pouring...) I was going to drink the tea afterwards but goodness, that was not tea. It had had a picture of a strawberry on the lid, so I thought maybe flavoured strawberry tea...but it was more like...hot strawberry super sweet syrup? I don't know. Way to sweet though. Threw it out.
I wandered a bit further. Through some gates with the Olympic sign on them that seemed to be related to the festival, yet it was all in Vietnamese, so I have no idea if it really was. I was still hungry so I found some more street food. Or rather, it was a small shop with postcards that I looked at, but then that also happened to have some wagons with street food. A young guy who spoke decent English helped explain what the different things were. I tried a cheese-wrapped sausage (also wrapped in some...dough or whatever), tofu and...I have no idea what the other thing was. He said it was beef and mango but I'll be honest and say I could taste neither. Not to say that it wasn't good though, it was all perfectly decent.
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I continued exploring the tourism festival (read fair) which had lots of stalls with both tourist info (local but also international, like Korean, Japanese...), food and various goods. I also ran into some dancing groups and a breakdancing battle championship. Jokingly thought to myself that I could steal some of their moves for my next zumba class.
Eventually, I wandered out of the enclosed fair area and into the 'real' Old Quarter. There were only a few cars but lots of scooters. There are pavements but most of them are used up by parked scooters so you kinda end up walking in the street anyway. And it reminded me of India because you can't really expect to cross the street in one go by looking to both sides. You have to take one lane at a time, stop in the middle of the street until the next lane is clear.
There were so many small shops in the Old Quarter. So many tourists as well, but the great thing about the Old Quarter is that the locals are (still) there too. They are still eating on tiny chairs on the pavement. Still selling things a tourist would never ever buy, i.e. things only locals would buy. Like I've written about before, here they have almost entire streets only selling one thing. So I passed several shops in a row that sold only zippers in whatever colour you could possibly imagine! Or buttons. Yes, buttons for your cardigan or whatever. Another street for just shoe laces. Another for scooter repairs. So obviously, these are not targeted to the tourists.
I spent maybe 2-3 hours getting lost in the Old Quarter before I decided it was time to head back. I was meeting the journalist who had written my story for dinner at 7. I had asked if I could offer him dinner as a thank you, to make sure I wasn't doing anything culturally unacceptable (I saw on AirBnB that some listings said 'if you're a couple, you have to be married, otherwise we cannot host you...or maybe that was in Laos now that I think of it...oh well, anyway, better to be sure before deciding to do something completely inappropriate!)
I felt snacky on the way back so I decided I needed more protein. Found a seemingly very popular restaurant (again, read people sitting on tiny chairs in the street) that were barbequing meat on small skewers so I got some of them. (Oh My God...so good!). Also found a small shop where I got some tea bags to have in my room.
Got back around 5.30 PM. Decided to take my computer down to a café next door where I had seen lots of people sitting with their computers or books so I thought that'd be a good place to sit and chill for a while since otherwise I'll get sick of the white light in my room. Decided to try an iced milk tea with pearls (tapioca). Quite good, though I'll probably just get some normal tea the next time.
Then the journalist came to pick me up on his scooter at around 7. He had an extra helmet, though I wonder how much protection it would provide if something were to happen. But hey, nothing is as crazy as the motorbikes in Uganda, so I've got to say that I still felt pretty safe.
It was really fun to ride and both slower and calmer than in Uganda for sure. I don't know how far we rode, maybe 5-10 minutes. Then we parked right outside a very local-looking restaurant, though at least it had an interior, and normally sized chairs. He just left the scooter and we put the helmets on hooks on his bike, and then some restaurant employee took the scooter and set/parked it to the side.
He ordered for us. Two bún chả which was like barbequed meat in a soup, with rice noodles and greens on the side that you put in the soup. Again, the barbeque was just brilliant. There were chillies, but I, perhaps strangely, decided to refrain from them.
I had to use the bathroom before leaving, and apparently he paid for us while I was away.
'But that…like defeats the whole point. I was taking you out as a thank you,' I said, humbled.
'Oh, come on, don't worry about it, we're friends!' he said as we went outside. We got some tissue to wipe off the rain on the scooter, then got back up.
'I can get this. You can get the tao phó,' he said.
Tao phó is dessert. He had tried to pronounce the difference between pho (the national dish, you know the soup, and phó. Sure, I can hear it, but now I've already forgotten how to pronounce the differences). Tao phó is soy milk with tofu. And in our case, with lotus and he ordered jelly in mine too. And some soy milk pudding that came along with it. You could also order other toppings, like coconut and sesame seeds and whatever else. The place was right around the corner from my place so I had walked past it several times and seen that it was a popular place, and it must have been since it was also the place he had found when searching for a good tao phó place in the neighbourhood.
Interestingly, he's a journalist who reports on politics and international affairs so he's interviewed and met with ambassadors and travelled with Vietnamese delegations with the PM and ministers. So not too far from my own history having worked for the Ministry for Foreign Affairs, particularly in the communication department. But he had also written stories like mine before, not just for my acquaintance and me but also others. And of success stories. He told me one girl had found her biological mother in three days!! THREE! Using social media. Although, if I understood it correctly, she had 'found' her, i.e. she had actually passed away. But she met with her half sister instead and they had wept like babies. I better get on with my social media campaign (except FB just unpublished my page for some goddamn reason!! Don't have time for this mess!)
He told me to keep him updated on the search, then I walked the few meters back to my place. Except I headed a bit further, around the corner, to a massage place I had seen on the way back from the Old Quarter that looked quite nice.
The place was locked but the lights were on and two girls were still sitting inside. One of them jumped and screamed when she saw me. The other got (jokingly, I think) annoyed how much of a scare she had got, so she had got scared too. They came to open the door and then a very interesting process started of trying to see if I could book an appointment. They had the price list in English but they didn't speak a single word. They didn't understand "tomorrow" or "open" so eventually they called a colleague (or boss I believe) to whom I explained my errand over the phone.
I had seen they had 60 and 90 minute massages; foot and full-body. They also had 'buy 5 tickets, get one free'. Again, it sounds outrageous to pay over 2.5 million (!) in any currency but when it's dong…and for six 90-minute massages! I can maybe get 15 minutes of that price at home… And I've been extremely stiff lately so I decided to take the offer. I realized later that I won't necessarily stay in this AirBnB for both of these weeks before I go to Laos, not to mention when I come back! I also realized, only when I got home, that oh no, what if it's one of those super painful massages like my parents had when we were in Phan Tiet when I was 10? All the parents in the adoptive group talked about because, somehow, despite the first one saying it had been sooo painful, the rest of them had followed suit and gone too.
They didn't have enough change though, so they had to call their boss again to find out some way to solve and explain to me how to solve it. We decided I'd pay 2 million now, and the rest when I came for my first appointment. And somehow I managed to book with them tomorrow, at 10. I'm guessing that's 10 in the morning. I say guess because I arrived at 9 PM, and they said I couldn't get a 90 minute massage (since, as I said, they didn't understand the word 'tomorrow') and pointed at the clock, so I think they meant because they were closing at 10 PM.
So. Sorry for the long post. I'm writing for myself as well so…can't help it. So massage tomorrow. No other plans (so far). I've found an interpreter who was either going to help me on Tuesday or find someone else to help me if she's busy. The journalist recommended some places to go (not in Hanoi) so I may try to go out of town before the dancing commences this weekend.
In the meantime, if you care to 'read' (see) the article, you can find it here: https://dantri.com.vn/the-gioi/co-gai-thuy-dien-goc-viet-dau-dau-mong-uoc-tim-lai-me-ruot-sau-31-nam-20230322181514117.htm (According to my new friend, the journalist, this is the second most read paper in Vietnam!)
As I said, FB unpublished my page so…not much use in sharing that at the moment. But if you know any Vietnamese people, regardless of whether they actually live in Vietnam, please do share the article with them and have them share it. It would really mean and help a lot. After all…if one person can find her family in three days(!), it says a lot about the power of sharing on social media.