Hanoi: Red River Blues

Drinking coffee is a rite; a ceremony performed differently in every place according to its culture and customs. As any rite, it is a window to the local culture, and in the specific case of Vietnam it is a rather tasty opportunity to meet the energetic Vietnamese while they are relaxing at their favorite coffee shop. What better name for such an establishment than CaFe?

On Vietnamese Coffee

If studying the issue in a library, the prospects of enjoying the experience seem minimal. Like Laos and Cambodia, Vietnam was for a long time under the French rule. Beyond the architectural styles left by them in the main cities, their signs can be seen in every single angle of human activity; they have even successfully modified the local diet by introducing baguettes and coffee.

The coffee break was a totally foreign concept for the rice-eating local culture; it was adopted in the form of happily eaten mini-baguettes and extra-sweet coffee for breakfast.

First, the coffee was adopted as a drink, especially for the mornings, and much later – in the 1980’s – as a crop aimed to tempt Vietnamese peasants to populate the mountainous backbone of the country, till then an exclusively hill-tribes territory. The Robusta beans, more suitable than the Arabica as an altitude crop were chosen; twenty years later Vietnam became the third largest coffee producer in the world and the biggest among the Robusta growers.

The problem of this approach is that all the plantations produce Robusta beans which have fewer aromas and taste than Arabica, but more caffeine and texture. Thus, this is the usual secondary ingredient in coffee blends. Persistent rumors say Starbucks is the main consumer of this crop.

A careless traveler would probably dismiss the experience even before the first cup. "A stall market in Hanoi using pure Robusta beans cannot produce a good cup of coffee," he would probably think. Yet, reality is complex. For unclear reasons, Vietnamese people roast their coffee in the presence of butter. The process adds an exquisite aroma and taste, providing one of the most exciting coffee experiences in South East Asia.

Preparation

Vietnamese coffee beans are roasted to a very dark degree in the presence of butter. The aroma of the buttered coffee can be felt from the distance in the markets, even above the strong odors of tropical fruits.

The basic preparation technology in Vietnam is gravitational filtration using small metallic cups, as those used in parts of France, with a volume of a double espresso. These cups have a double bottom, both of them perforated, and the lower one, in fact the true bottom of the cup, has a screw to which the second one is attached, permitting the user to set the distance between them and choose the coffee flows' rate. Usually it is set so that the filtration process length will be between three to five minutes. The metallic cup is put over a glass one, about ten grams of coffee are added to it, boiling water are added and a metal lid is put atop.

The dark fluid flows down to the glass, usually over a white layer of condensed milk. At the end of the procedure two separated layers, black on white, are formed. The cover is then inverted on the table and the metallic cup put over it, so it will not wet the table. Some quick mixing causes the milk layer to disappear without significantly changing the black color of the coffee.

In settled coffee shops, to avoid the cooling of the coffee during the filtration, the whole glass is immersed inside a bowl of hot water, creating an impressive but not very efficient structure, since the glass would later drip water around; paper napkins are a rarity in Vietnam.

Cold coffee is produced in the same way, but the filtration is done by the seller, far away from the customer. At the end of the process the coffee is poured into a tall glass full of small ice cubes, cut off from a big ice block. Black coffee is less popular and is consumed with huge quantities of white sugar that helps the drinker to survive the drink’s strength.

Hot or cold, with milk or black, a cup of green tea always awaits the traveler at its end; "It washes the coffee taste out," I was told time and again.

CaFe?: The Coffee Shop

Drinking a coffee in Hanoi’s coffee shops is a feast to all the senses; discovering the tiny, romantic places is an adventure by itself, a quest requiring from the traveler most of his field exploring skills and stamina, but a quest offering a sweet reward at its end.

So many words until now and not even one address was given! Intrepid explorers are reluctant to give away valuable discoveries, especially when the addresses in Hanoi are not always clear. This was an awkward way for telling that CaFe? does not have an easy to find location. While walking away from the Hoan Kiem Lake along Dinh Liet Street, along the backpackers’ zone of the Old Quarter, there is a narrow street at the right side between Gia Ngur and Hang Bac roads; take it and just before its curve, a small coffee shop would appear at your right, that’s CaFe?.

Despite the simple beads-curtain separating it from the street, the interior is almost completely isolated from the noisy street; despite its lack of windows, the place is well aired and has a pleasant light diffusing in from unknown worlds. The small tables provide just the perfect surface for a writing session and the out-of-place massive wooden bar provides the exact atmosphere needed for a productive one.

The eye-catching waitress does not speak English, nor does her husband; but that did not bother us, it just added to that wonderful dislocation in the time-space coordinates that this place offers.

Noodles soup is a popular food all over East Asia, with regional variations which take advantage from local ingredients and tastes. Thailand’s "watdiao-nam" is an almost do-it-yourself dish allowing the customer to choose most of the ingredients, while the Vietnamese variation usually limits the choices only to the kind of meat and the rest is determined by the region the shop is in or has originated from.

Vietnam offers the most social version of the dish; sitting on low street benches or packed as a sardine in a hole-in-the-wall shop, it is impossible to have a soup there without creating immediate and close contact with the locals. These are about the only places where relaxed Vietnamese can be spotted and thus they offer a good opportunity for socializing with them. Moreover, it is the perfect situation for learning how do they spice up the dish and the proper eating techniques.

The Vietnamese variant of the dish is called "pho," and the customer can choose only to the kind of meat to be used, the other ingredients are determined by the region the shop is in or has originated from.

The main ingredient, creating a background to the whole creation, is the broth, which is prepared by simmering oxtails and marrow bones for 24 hours in a big bowl boiling over a charcoal stove, along with onions, star anise, ginger and cinnamon bark which create the wonderful mixture of flavours in the broth. Another bowl, or another partition in the former one, is filled just with water and is used to heat the precooked translucent rice noodles. Those, after being drained, are put into the eating bowl. Depending on the place, thinly sliced onions and chopped coriander leaves go in next, along with ginger shavings. Next comes the meat, which defines the name of the dish; the main variations are chicken, and then the dish is called "pho ga," and beef, which results in "pho bo." There is a spicier version called "bun bo Hue" which is made of noodles, beef, pork, lemon grass and whole chillies. Crunchy bean sprouts go atop everything.

The thin slices of meat are added raw and cook in the hot broth in front of the customer’s eyes. However, it is possible to specify the degree of cooking of your beef: ask for rare ("tai"), well-done ("chin") or fatty ("gau").

For spicing, on the table are spring onions, red chilli sauce, vinegar with garlic slices and small lemons’ wedges. Sometimes there is an additional plate heaped with different herbs that can be added to the bowl: "ngo gai" (sawleaf herb), "rau que" (Asian basil) and rau ram (coriander). A smelly sauce called "nuoc nam," made from fermented fishes may appear on the table but it is not recommended, since like its counterpart in Thailand and Laos can contain harmful parasites.

The combinations are endless and provide a good opportunity to vary the taste of the pho with each meal, which is transformed in such a way into a culinary adventure. The soup is eaten with the help of chopsticks, used to pick up the solid parts, and a deep, short, Asian spoon for drinking the soup.

The dish costs usually five thousand Dongs, around a third of a dollar and is served all over Hanoi, day or night, usually on street stalls in every alley or in tiny establishments along the streets. Ankle-height stools by not much bigger tables are the usual furniture of the place, and since the tables are shared by all the customers, eating a soup creates a wonderful opportunity to meet Vietnamese which do not work in the tourism industry.

A recommended place is near the Hoan Kiem Lake along Dinh Liet Street, along the backpackers’ zone of the Old Quarter, just before the junction with Gia Ngur Street. The hole-on-the-wall establishment offers a few basic tables which make the experience a bit more comfortable than a stall on the street. The quality of the dish is good, the place is very clean and the patrons are friendly.

Unlike any other trekking peaks I’ve done, the Fansipan was mainly a cultural experience. A common language sometimes can create an illusion of understanding between people from different cultures, while in fact each side uses that language symbols differently, according to his own culture.

Plans and Misunderstandings

We planned the Fansipan climbing from Hanoi and spent a significant amount of time trying to gather information from the traveling agencies regarding the general conditions of the trek: "Don’t worry, it is very easy but very cold," was the usual answer; it left me worried.

My limited knowledge of Vietnam kept telling me that it cannot be cold - not even at the 3143m summit – the highest point in Vietnam.

I knew my point of view was that of somebody who lived most of his life in a Mediterranean climate, while most Vietnamese have lived mainly in tropical or subtropical ones; their being more sensitive than me to temperatures below fifteen Celsius was expected and understood.

Later on, when we reached the top, I felt perfectly well in my thin T-shirt while the Vietnamese were shivering under their overcoats – despite the mild eleven Celsius degrees there.

I expected that still while in Hanoi; but I kept asking myself what they were missing to tell me; what were the problems they did not care about but that would for certain worry me, maybe even critical problems for the success of the trip. Unfortunately, I found the answer only once at the mountain itself.

Booking

We booked everything in Hanoi; with hindsight, having traveled independently to Sa Pa would have been better; booking the trek from there was significantly cheaper and such an approach would have added elasticity to the whole schedule and allowed a longer stay at Sa Pa itself – a charming and refreshing resort town.

The Train from Hanoi

The first part of the trip was done on a night train from Hanoi to Lao Cai, a land border cross
to China. Unluckily, the Chinese do not allow a quick look at their side unless having a valid visa; visas are not issued there.

Despite having booked the trip in advance, our sleeping compartment was not reserved and we found ourselves sitting all night in a very crowded and uncomfortable hard-seats car. Soon after boarding it, each seat became a nest of food recipients, envelopes and utensils; the insufficient fluorescent lights bathed everything with the longing to be elsewhere.

A pretty young woman was sitting across the isle from us. At certain moment she caught my eye and smiled; slowly and deliberately she began powdering her face with talcum, a typical beautifying action in South East Asia. Her deliberate slowness created the effect of watching a chameleon moving from shadows to light. "Don’t stare at her," my companion snapped while placing – by mistake – her elbow on my ribs. The silent witness of my treacherous look put away the talcum, smiled for a last time and looked away.

Sa Pa

From there it was just a couple of hours up in a minivan to the attractive village of Sa Pa, located at an height of 1650m in front of the Fansipan Mountain. The town is populated mainly by Hill tribes belonging to various Hmong people. The town survives on the tourism industry, which is based on Vietnamese people reaching the place for its coolness (compared to Hanoi) and foreign tourists arriving for a trek and a visit to the Hmong villages and markets.

Trunk Bridges over a Suddenly Unstable Earth

Next day, just after sunrise, we climbed into a jeep with our guide and a porter that took us below Sa Pa, next to some hill tribes villages scattered in a small valley at the Fansipan base.

The car left as by a small trunk bridge over a current that delimited the Fansipan Mountain. As most of the bridges we saw later, it was built from a tree lying across the water, with some holding device at one side, usually made of branches. Some of those bridges were partially submerged, all of them were slippery.

From across the valley the mountain looked perfectly solid and normal, if somewhat greener than expected: until that day it was my cultural assumption that a mountain is rock-solid and dry. However, what started as a nice walk on electric green grass rapidly changed into a 500 meter steep climb on wet, slippery mud. In one dangerous spot there was a two meters high step on mud, with a huge landslide at its side going down for a few hundred meters.

After surviving that step it began raining slightly, rain that accompanied us, with short brakes, all along the trek. Trying hard not to slip on the mud, we entered a forested area, where we moved down, sometimes walking just on the wet roots of the trees lying upon the bare rocks.

Up and down again, we arrived at the night camp at 2200 meters. The tents were already there, some usurpers were kicked out, a roofed fire showing the proper respect to the surrounding rain was made and a basic meal was cooked. I tried to dry my shoes, but the main result was their partial meltdown. I felt as if I had just passed a scuba diving training day, feeling wet and miserable in my futile attempts to dry myself. I got asleep thinking that Vietnamese worry neither about water nor mud and thus we weren’t warned about that.

Next day we began walking just before sunrise; we immediately crossed a wild stream that spoiled my almost dry shoes. This day included climbing to a fake summit at 2800 meters, then a short way down and then the final approach to the summit, through a bamboo forest.

Since the way was very narrow and muddy, the walk among the bamboo was very difficult: with unusual cruelty they cut our hands each time we held them searching for support when slipping on the mud. When we fell on them, we swung up and down, until we managed to hold the ground again: we had found the inspiriting source for a well known scene of a recent Chinese-Hollywood co-production.

Around 14:00, we arrived at the summit, which is marked with a small aluminum pyramid, only to found that the rain and the fog obscured any available view of the area.

In an effort to arrive before dark, we almost run all the way back to the night camp, to where we arrived a little after sunset, to a well deserved night rest.

In the morning of the last day, we started the long way back to Sa Pa. When we arrived at the stream by the mountains' base, we used it to wash the external layers of mud covering us; the internal ones took more serious efforts over the next days. From there it was a short walk to the house of the porter, a Black Hmong, which offered a nice cup of tea, a motorbike ride back to Sa Pa and a short look to yet another culture.

Creating Linguistic Trunk Bridges

The climbing became an inspiring episode; a lesson on how to ask things, on how to find the trunk bridges leading us across different cultures. Vietnamese do not worry about muddy grounds; I do not worry about fifteen degrees Celsius. Being aware of cultural differences can make the trip experience easier; otherwise, the slippery trunk bridge would be found for sure before its end.

"What’s this?" and "Where am I?" were my first reactions. The classical boxy building certainly did not belong to South East Asia. The orderly line of people awaiting the entrance could not possibly be the same serial killers driving and riding the "motos" at illegal speeds (and mostly on the wrong direction) around the congested city.

Communist Cemeteries

Visiting cemeteries is a worthwhile activity for intrepid travelers in many places; the Recoleta Cemetery in Buenos Aires is an excellent example of a cemetery transformed into an historic type of attraction. However, in certain places this has taken eerie dimensions.

Communist regimes did present themselves as atheists; they praised valueless societies, but never considered that the vacuum they created artificially would be filled by false idols. No other societies in human history made a point of embalming symbolic leaders and afterwards showing them off to the people as the Communist did.

They never tried to explain this weird – if not sinister – practice. The USSR had Lenin. In Beijing, Mao Zedong can still be appreciated. Hanoi still displays Ho Chi Minh. Nobody remembers why. The crowds are probably the same ones rushing afterwards home with a pirated copy of the last horror film. "The Body Snatchers IX" would its title probably be.

Unintended Symbol

Communism made a point of destroying ancestral customs and religions. It was a matter of historical justice that their tyrants were prey to their own medicine. Ho Chi Minh stated in his will and last testament that he wanted to be cremated and his ashes to be scattered across the country.

"The same way you didn’t respect your ancestral traditions, we are not respecting your will," is the subliminal message of the site.

The Shrine

The pseudo-temple can be visited during the mornings. A long queue awaits the visitor. At its end are booths were bags and cameras can be left; though my recommendation is not to bring them at all. Officially, the visit is free of charge, but the policemen taking away the bags request an unofficial fee; moreover, there is a serious risk the bags – especially pricey cameras and phones – would get lost. Modest clothing is required for entering the place.

The queue enters the mausoleum and surrounds the embalmed body by three sides before exiting through a different door. The corpse is separated from the crowd by a thick glass; the room is heavily refrigerated creating sharp contrast with the steamy streets of Hanoi. Strangely, the similar mausoleum in Beijing is heavily heated; however, in both cases the air within the glass is controlled so that the body is better preserved.

Ho Chi Minh lies on a platform, only his head and hands exposed; on a regular basis he is send to Moscow for maintenance procedures. The small, inert body is a live (dead?) metaphor regarding the impossibility for tyrants to win their fight against human rights. There he lies, his last will publicly violated. "You violated us, we violate you," the crowds are silently whispering.

On The Surrounding Grass

A line of conical hats floating over a field of electric green grass was the unusual sight waiting me outside the mausoleum; the women were tending the grass and provided the most human sight in the area.

Hope was in the air, their hats and culture would survive all vicissitudes.

Few cities in South East Asia possess a more eclectic reality than Hanoi. The cradle of a regional empire that absorbed the Cham and other cultures, a South East Asia colony for a millennium, a French one for a while and finally the home to one of the few Communist regimes in the world, Hanoi provides beneath its thin shiny plastic cover a fascinating kaleidoscope.

The Yellow River is as important a culture cradle to the Chinese as the Red River is to the Vietnamese, along it Hanoi was placed. The intrepid traveler may spend a month exploring the crowded city, with its parks, lakes, buildings and monuments; all of them are well documented and easy to reach; however, its main gift for the traveler is its ambience. As all cultural qualities, it is everywhere to be found and still easy to miss. Where do you search for something that is everywhere? A good place would be one of those tiny local’ colonial coffee shops; a group of exercising elders by the lake is another one. Other obvious places are the many noodle soup stalls with their ankle-height benches. Beauty is in every direction the explorer turns his head to.

Dangers

Regardless its qualities, Hanoi is still a dangerous city - even if less than Saigon; the explorer should behave sensibly.

Hanoi is already north enough to have four seasons with summers that are hot and humid and cool and dry winters. During the rainy season beware of sudden floods around the lake area. In a few minutes, the area can be covered knee-deep with water - avoid dinners in places below the street level.

Drivers in Vietnam are spectacularly dangerous, try avoiding any kind of contact with them. Downtown Hanoi is suitably small for walking; to travel further away moto-taxis are the best, after warning the driver to take things easy. Once, a Vietnamese told me: "French drive at the right side of the road, Britons at the left one, and we? We drive wherever we like."

An Old Capital

The Co Loa Citadel was founded around 200 BC on the site of modern Hanoi. In 1010, Ly Thai To - the first ruler of the Ly Dynasty - moved the capital of Dai Viet Kingdom to the site of the Dai La Citadel. Shortly after, he claimed to have seen a dragon ascending from the Red River, he renamed it Thang Long (Ascending dragon).

In 1397 the capital was moved to Thanh Hoa, (or Tay Do, the Western Capital); then Thang Long became Dong Do (Eastern Capital). Shortly afterwards, Vietnam was invaded by Chinese troops and remained occupied between 1408 and 1428. The Hanoi became the capital again and was renamed Dong Kinh (The Eastern Capital – usually known as Tonkin, the name uses the same Chinese characters as Tokyo).

Since then until 1802 it was the capital, then the Nguyen Dynasty moved the capital southwards to Hue; in 1831 they renamed it Ha Noi ("Between Rivers"). Hanoi returned as the capital of French Indochina from 1887 to 1954 – except for when the Japanese occupied it between 1940 and 1945. Since 1954 and until 1976 it was the capital of North Vietnam and afterwards became the capital of the unified country.

Architecture

The dominant architecture of administrative buildings is mainly French, with a few megalomaniac Communist structures scattered among them – like the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum. The lakes and tree-lined boulevards create a notable European look. The most beautiful French buildings in town include the Sofitel Metropole Hotel, the Presidential Palace, the Grand Opera House, the St-Joseph Cathedral and the State Bank of Vietnam.

Attractions

The main cultural, economic and political center in Vietnam, Hanoi hosts an astounding amount of religious and cultural buildings; luckily, most of them are near downtown.

Hanoi Opera House

The Hanoi Opera House was built by the French between 1901 and 1911, as a small-scale replica of the Palais Garnier, the oldest opera building in Paris. It gave its name to the nearby Hilton Hanoi Opera Hotel which wanted to avoid being called Hanoi Hilton, for the connection of that name with the Vietnam-USA War.

The Old Quarter

Located near the Hoan Kiem Lake, the Old Quarter is also known as the 36 Streets Market. On each street there were shops specializing on a given trade, which usually gave the name to that road. Most of the trades have survived – if sometimes only for their touristic value – and include silk trade, jewelers, clothing, traditional artisans, grave-stones and others. The area includes today the main tourists’ center in Hanoi, hosting a myriad of hotels, travel agencies, internet kiosks and related shops. Many restaurants and food stalls operate in the area.

The Temple of Literature

The Temple of Literature was founded in 1070 as a Confucian temple. Most of the Van Mieu architecture seen today dates back to the Lý (1010–1225AC) and Tran (1225–1400AC) dynasties.

In 1076 it was established as the Imperial Academy, were Vietnamese administrators and royalty studied their trade; it functioned as such until 1779. Within the temple are 82 (out of the original 116) stone steles keeping the names of the university laureates.

One Pillar Pagoda

The One Pillar Pagoda is a Buddhist temple in Hanoi regarded together with the Perfume Pagoda, as one of Vietnam's most iconic temples.

It was built in 1049AC by Emperor Ly Thai Tong, (1028-1054AC) who was childless and dreamt that he met the Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara, who gave him a son while seated on a lotus flower; soon afterwards he was blessed with a child and constructed this temple in gratitude.

The wood temple was designed as a lotus blossom and built on a single stone pillar 1.25m in diameter. Savagely, the French destroyed it in 1954 during their retreat after having lost the First Indochina War; later on it was reconstructed.

Flag Tower of Hanoi

Built as recently as 1812, the Flag Tower of Hanoi survived the French colonization and became one of the city symbols. It has three tiers and a pyramid-shaped tower with an inner spiral staircase leading to the top; it is 41m tall with the flag at its top.

Water Puppet Theatre

On the Hoan Kiem lakeside operates the Water Puppet Theatre, displaying an ancestral type of art typical of South East Asia. The performers stand in a pool of water while operating puppets in a variety of traditional plays.

Hanoi Hilton

The Hoa Lo Prison (the name means Fiery Furnace; the area features many wood stoves stores), was a prison used by the French for political prisoners; It was built by the last in 1904. American POWs were kept there during the American-Vietnamese War and sarcastically called it the "Hanoi Hilton." Nowadays it is a museum commemorating that war.

Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum

The Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum defines the style of modern Hanoi; the boxy structure keeps the embalmed body of Ho Chi Minh and much of the Vietnamese Communist ethos.