In downtown Hanoi there sits a giant electronic clock that ticks away down towards the 1,000 year anniversary of the founding of the capital. When I arrived over thirty days ago the clock stood at 502 days to go. The red electronic screen whizzed past as my taxi entered the Old Quarter and I clutched my backpack to my chest. I had no idea what the number meant at the time and was more concerned with survival. I had not slept the night before, having spent a day layover in Hong Kong with friends, and was exhausted when I stepped out of the airport for a taxi. There was no one to greet me and I did not hear any another English speakers get off my flight. I had read online it was easy to negotiate a taxi from the airport as long as you went for one of the clearly marked white ones out front and negotiated the price upfront. I found the taxis, was ushered onto into a cab, and negotiated what I thought was 50,000 duong. The taxi took off and I was barreled back into my seat.
The first thing you learn about driving in Hanoi is that when Vietnam opened its borders to trade 15 years ago and motorbikes and cars suddenly rolled in they were greeting a populace that had never driven before. This meant people tended to make their own rules. People crossed in and out of lanes on both sides of the road, wove around pedestrians, honked incessantly instead of using blinkers to pass. Only the younger generation tended to stop at red lights and even they cut the rules casually by turning left into the incoming traffic and making their way through. So during my taxi ride we honked and were honked at, wove around large trucks, were cut off by thousands of buzzing motorbikes, seeming to miss disaster by the slimmest of margins. I thought my driver was crazy but it turns out everyone drives like this. Amazingly I have never seen a single accident in the city. The Vietnamese might be very adaptable or just plain lucky.
When we got out of the taxi the hair was sticky, humid hot and I broke into a sweat. There was an overwhelming scent of cooking meat and I saw dozens of people sitting and eating in small child sized chairs on the sidewalk, the grill doll sized and being operated from the foot of an old woman's door. These were not poor looking citizens. All were casually and well dressed, talking on cell phones and laughing with each other. An elderly woman in a traditional rice farmer hat walked past with good balanced precariously in front and behind her, making her a human scale.The taxi driver demanded $15 US and I learned for the first time to be very careful what you negotiate. He was not able to drive into the small alley where my hotel was located, but a woman throwing her garbage saw me and guided me to my hotel. I learned for the first time how friendly the people were here, a trait I would see again and again. I reached my room and collapsed in my bed. I had never been to any place like this before, any place that reached out and grabbed you in such a forward manner.
Now, as the clock downtown stands at 467, I find myself very used to the madness that surrounds me. I am no longer surprised when a motorbike stuck in traffic jumps on a sidewalk or when I see street hawkers calling me over for sugar cane root on the street. The noise, the smells, the madness have all become as commonplace as the fog in San Francisco became for me with enough time. Vietnam is a very young country, with the average age of the population an astounding 25 years old, and I know when I return to visit in a few years it will be very different. When Dean Brand visited my first week in Hanoi he was astounded by the many changes that had occurred since his first arrival in the country in the early 1990's. So despite my comfort with the country I always find myself looking for new adventures, to enjoy the city in the moment as it exists right now, 467 days until its big birthday celebration.
Hanoi is a big city of 6 million people that feels like a small town, a village of winding streets and fascinating small nooks. It was a wonderful place to spend a summer and I look forward to seeing how we both change when we next meet again.
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