September in Hanoi

[Lucky Al]

Last night I slid back into bed after a trip to the toilet and my girl asked how I'd been sleeping. I said, 'Fine, how about you?' And she said, 'My dreams are full of furniture.' This morning after walking her to work I came back and sat in one of the new armchairs to wait for the fridge and TV to be delivered. At one stage I watered the new plants.

[Lucky Al]

I had thought it was funny yesterday when they delivered the plants on the back of a Honda Dream. Today the fridge and TV came on the back of a Honda Dream, too.

[Lucky Al]

After eight years stuyding in Seattle my girl just moved back to Hanoi to work as an anthropologist, and I'm here for a few days helping her settle into a new apartment. During her working hours, when I'm not at home waiting for workers or deliverymen, I walk or ride her Italian scooter around town, stopping to drink bia ha noi and gaze at girls in ao dai and girls in jeans and tank tops.

[Lucky Al]

[Lucky Al]

The apartment is in the neighbourhood of Truc Bach lake, which yesterday I saw is full of dead fish.

[Lucky Al]

Some of the fish I saw appeared to have spent their dying moments in attempting to escape the lake's vile waters.

[Lucky Al]

[Lucky Al]

The lake looks and smells much better from a short distance.

[Lucky Al]

[Lucky Al]

[Lucky Al]

It was over Truc Bach on the night of 26 October 1967 that the A-4 Skyhawk of John McCain was hit by an anti-aircraft missile. McCain ejected and parachuted into the lake. What a nightmare to be bombed in your home at night.

[Lucky Al]

But what a blast to shoot a bomber down.

[ether]

Nice shots Al. What a great place is Hanoi, hey? Loved that city when i visited about 5 years ago.

[Lucky Al]

Yesterday after noodles for lunch, my girl and I heading back towards her office when we passed a hairdresser. I said I wanted to get a haircut, and she said, 'Okay, but not at this place - it looks like a social evils place.' I looked at the hairdresser again and thought, 'Wow!' After walking my girl back to work I wandered around looking for a hairdresser that didn't look like a 'social evils' place, but in every one I came to I saw four or five women with painted faces and in slothful poses. My mind boggled and I cracked a fat, but I was strong and continued the search. Finally I came to a place on a corner where an old man lay sleeping in the only chair. I tapped him on the elbow, and with perfect aplomb, as if recognising no division between sleep and wakefulness, he rose and motioned for me to sit down. As he cut my hair, I wondered if he had been in Truc Bach on the night of 26 October 1967, and if he had been able to sleep as lightly then.

[Lucky Al]

This shot shows Pyotr, an Ossetian whose Vietnamese wife runs a restaurant a block from my girl's apartment. He's grilling shashlik. Five minutes after meeting for the first time the other day, Pyotr and I discovered that we had both studied at North Ossetia State University in Vladikavkaz, and Pyotr said, 'Tak, eto zdorovo! Davai vipem.' (Well, that's great! Let's drink.) Pyotr has only been in Hanoi for three months and is finding the heat hard-going, but he's glad that people don't shoot and tanks don't rumble down the streets here. When I saw Pyotr's three daughters, half-Vietnamese and half-Ossetian, the eldest two in their first year at university, my eyes almost fell out of their sockets, for they are about as beautiful and exotic as beautiful and exotic can be.

[Lucky Al]

Thanks Ether, glad to hear you liked Hanoi too. I'd better run now, but got a few more to post tomorrow.

[Lucky Al]

Yesterday after posting I went to let Pyotr know I'm flying back to Japan today, and he said, 'Davai vipem!' (Let's drink!) He had an order for shashlik at five, so between preparing us a salad and pronouncing toasts in the Ossetian style before downing shots of vodka and glasses of beer he ran back and forth from our table to the grill out front. 'Next time you come, Al, we'll eat and drink properly!' he said, shaking my hand and seeing me on my way.