Of sky rises and garbage heaps

My calender indicates that I left Hanoi a mere 10 days ago,  a time span in which I have been fortunate enough to experience the hustle and bustle of HCMC, drive a moto through rain and ocher- coloured mud in Dalat, pay a short visit to Siem Reap and take in the imposing construction works of Hindu and Buddhist kings alike (or rather that of their subjects). Presently I am in Kuala Lumpur obeying my true nature as a fully fledged foodie, trawling lines of hawker stalls, and familiarizing myself with the intricacies of the mamak food culture. It is a thoroughly enjoyable activity I must agree.

The city seems to share a certain likeness with the urban landscape of Dubai, sky rises and luxury malls abundant in the city center. A great array of nationalities populate the streets, from locals to expats to the tourists such as me passing by for a few days.  Having splurged on a more upscale hotel, I and my boyfriend are set up quite nicely, fluffy bed, wireless in-room internet connection, daily newspaper delivered each morning. We walk the streets freely, eat whatever we want when we want, duck into air conditioned temples of consumerism when the heat becomes too much. I guess that’s KL.

From dusk the streets fill with peddlers, parading their ware on plastic tarps lain out on the ground, their children playing nearby. On the pavement the same beggar in the same spot, his face and head turned downwards, arms stretched out, hands forming a cup for good Samaritans to place some ringgits in. Down backstreets and alleys, heaps of garbage piles up, and worn-down housing projects hide from the eyes of most visitors.  KL too. There is also this:

http://www.nst.com.my/Current_News/NST/articles/20090720204545/Article

Fumes and speed

I did it. I drove a moto today.

My dear friend Nicole took me to Tay Ho area for some hours of driver’s ed 101. At first anxiety, apprehension, visions of crashes and body parts strewn across the road. Not entirely conducive to my willingness to mount the beast. Some instructions on gas handle and footbrake. Tryouts, up and down a single stretch of ridiculously few meters. Then cautious bubbles of an ingenue’s joy. Enter the changing of gears. Now a longer stretch with in-motion turns. In comes signaling. Again a longer stretch, engine spinning. Increase speed, change gears. Engine roaring. Exhilaration and astonishment at the feat.

Tomorrow driver’s ed intermediary anticipated with eagerness like that of a kid on Christmas morning. Perhaps my mentor can snap a shot for ye of little faith and disbelief (present company included).

Stream of consciousness

The goodbye girls

Nothing much to report at the moment other than the usual ramblings and antics of a mind slowly unraveling or perhaps re-raveling. Attempting to get work done but find it difficult to focus my mind. It is that thing, you know, trying to return to something you have already put passed you, it is done with and concluded. It is damn near impossible.

Bizarre feeling going in to office today, went in early to have the option to slip out before my colleagues arrived. Instead ended up staying there until the floor was practically filled up. After a series of greetings, inquiries about my trip to Bangkok and compliments on my new bob, I attempted to work for a few hours whilst two of my colleagues had an ongoing, lively, no downright loud discussion about 15 cm from my head. Gave it up and in plain sight ‘snug’ out, throwing some white lie at them, my back already through the doorway. How come it’s so difficult going back?

Walked around Hoan Kiem Lake yesterday evening. Love the cacophony of voices chattering, motos and cars honking away, street vendors peddling their goods to locals and tourists alike, the sight of the city in the glare from the neon signs, and colored lanterns and small lights in the trees, the freshness of the air brought in by the rains.

Saturday off to meet boyfriend in HCMC and then 3 weeks of travel. Looking forward to take in new experiences, places, people and last but not least foods with him. Smile on my face.

The small things and King of Toothpicks

Finally seem to have gotten my bearings on Hanoi again, spent the better part of yesterday just enjoying my own company, getting lost on my bicycle around the city. It’s been a while since I’ve had/taken the time to do that.

Armed with Murakami’s Norwegian Wood, my glasses (which for two years now have not been the sufficient strength) and a smile on my face, I went by my old house to see off a dear friend and consequently had my bicycle tuned up at my local Corner Repair Guy. Upon arrival he promptly offered me his seat in the shade and got straight to work on my bike.

I could not have been any more content, the sun casting a favorable light on Phan Dinh Phung, the familiar sound of motos on the road (these days Bangkok is almost all about cars, sky trains and buses), the green tree canopy above me. As a bonus the construction worker from across the street, whom old nice Repair Guy had been having a conversation with, started chatting me up.

Good things come to those who wait; I received compliments on my youthful, pretty looks, and was treated to a flexing of biceps whilst Construction Guy repeatedly stressed that in spite of his impressive physical strength and surprisingly full head of hair, he was actually 56 years old. I, in turn, as the rules of the male-female encounter ritual rules prescribe, returned all the compliments whilst occasionally returning to my book. Within half an hour, I had a new tire on my bike, the brakes tightened and a marriage proposal in the back hand in case I should tire of my (according to Construction Guy’s gesturing unnecessarily) tall Western boyfriend. Life is good.

On a completely unrelated side note (but part of what made yesterday so great) I really wish I had more time in Hanoi to map out the quality of toothpicks at different eating establishments in the city. Went to Tamarind, enjoying a particularly cheesy lunch and the discovery that wearing glasses that make you see the world in a slightly blurry way, also (for me at least) endows you with something of a invisibility cloak not unlike that of a certain short person with hairy feet and toes (yes, I see the irony in that this description could well be of myself).
It’s a “I can’t see you, ergo you cannot see me” kinda logic I’m getting at. But I’m digressing from the subject matter at hand.

Upon finishing my lunch I asked for a toothpick and received the mother of all toothpicks, made out of plastic, sky blue with a pointy hook in the one end and a flossing device in the other! Amazing.
I considered for several seconds to wipe it off and discretely place in it my bag but the waitress (having been hovering around me for the last 3 hours) removed my plate, napkins, lemon wedge, and toothpick wonder in one fell swoop. Which accounts for why this post does not feature a pic of this revelation of teeth hygiene instruments.

At com binh dan with friends today I also encountered a specimen of high quality, albeit one made of wood but very pointy in both ends and unusually sturdy. It made me lament the loss of the Wonder Pick even more… Perhaps I can pass on the torch to someone out there, creating perhaps the world’s first Toothpick Olympic games?

Into the breaches

Tuesday I’m off for Hanoi once again, albeit for a brief stint to finalize the report that was so abruptly abandoned due to some strange cosmic chain of events sending one disease after another my way. It is back to reality, and quite frankly a bit daunting.

Bangkok has been hectic, emotional, eventful and pretty damn good, with brief moments of lazing about, indulging in such activities as having (my first ever) manicure/pedicure and shopping like Paris Hilton on speed, at the favorable lower prices which the rate between the Thai and Danish currency allows us, eating whatever we wanted at whichever time we wanted.

But somehow, regardless of time spent having people serve and pamper me, (which by the way I am not sure I will ever feel quite comfortable with) time or at least my inner mechanism regulating the sense of time does not seem to have slowed down yet. My sister having to teach me to sleep in beyond eight o’clock being a sort of testimony to that.

I will have to make a strong effort to alter my mindset to work mode, rebooting to the days when community-based organisations, demand-driven approach, and multi-pronged development strategy resided in my vocabulary with ease and regularity in use.

Beyond work-related duties in Hanoi, friends, meals to be had and an atmosphere to be taken in awaits.

Transitions/Transformations

The blog started out as a travel blog, to document and capture thoughts, emotions and experiences from my four month long internship in Hanoi, Vietnam. Small transformations have taken place, amateurish fiddlings with the layout, colors and such and even a shift from Danish to English.

Recently it’s been host to some very personal and private thoughts revolving around my sister and I meeting up with our dad in Bangkok for the first time in 29 odd years (my birth certificate indicating Dec.28, 1978). In addition in my own completely unordered, scrambled fashion I seem to have been taking stock, that is emotionally, of my time spent here in Vietnam, reflecting on all the experiences it has brought with it and the great people that I’ve made here.

It seems appropriate and natural somehow to make some visible change to indicate that the blog has evolved from its initial purpose. So without further a due, welcome to Hanoi, and beyond.

Thank you’s or soothing the crazy

For the first time in 4 months, there sitting atop the basket of greens and herbs accompanying my lone late-lunch bun cha, a generous helping of bean sprouts, taking all the time in the world picking out a bottle of white at Fivi, swaying and singing along to the supermarket version of ‘You don’t have to say you love me’, whilst uniform clad Vietnamese staff shake their head at me, watching a 3 year old boy mesmerized by the chicken running free at the side of the road, my beautiful friend Josie going “Oh poo” as a response to a matter requiring much careful consideration, and knowing I’ll revisit Hanoi very soon, even for only a brief appearance.

Oh, for those of you wondering out there, (a few enquiries having been made already), a little reassurance is in order I guess: I’ve not gone completely off the deep end yet, at least not in any significant or different way than what you’ve always known me to be.

Turn off the noise

By this time Thursday I will be on a plane to Bangkok, somehow not moving that far, in relative terms, considering the short duration of the flight, but moving me emotionally, mentally far far away…and then again.

The last two weeks I have been in this strange state of mind, experiencing violent surges of excessive happiness, sadness, anger, frustration, joy and tenderness, maneuvering rapidly across back and forth on the entire spectrum of emotions that humans are capable of having.
Spending time with my friends I find myself looking at them, smiling at the quirks and oddities that make me like them so much. I savor every moment spent here, and consequently, simultaneously morn the fact that soon it will all end. During this brief, intense span of time I have made such strong connections with people which I realize, in moments of sanity, that I should treasure and be grateful of instead of weeping over the fact that soon it will take more effort to sustain these friendships. Perhaps I should attribute my emotions to plain old laziness and just snap out of it.

My sleep is that dreamless kind, where you wake up in the middle of the night overwhelmed by a sense of desolation or melancholy, almost a perfect imitation of the feeling I have during that recurring feverish dream, which has followed me since childhood.

I suspect this approximates how it is to be mentally disturbed, unable to control the noise in my head, and unexpected reactions set off by the most inane, unrelated small events. Except that apparently really crazy people do not know that they are in fact crazy. There might be hope for me yet.

Meeting my father has entered the realm of reality, the date set to this Saturday. It excites me, makes me anxious, and then comes the sadness. My brother will not be here to take part in it, to feel exactly how only he can feel about it, to cry, to scold, to ask questions that have been asked a million times before inside his head, to come to terms with the answers given, to find closure and to find his father. I will have to come to terms with this, and I will. As I will with leaving Hanoi and beloved ones behind.

From the bottom of the food chain

The scene is set. An office of an international NGO somewhere in Hanoi, a table, and four people convened to discuss the terms and details of the months ahead. Introductions are made, courtesies exchanged, details about the assignment to be solved is discussed. And then, the statement: “So if you have any questions or need any feedback, don’t hesitate to ask the team even though you, as an intern, is at the bottom of the food chain.”

Need I mention that the expression on my face following that remark was not one of unambiguous joy?

This statement was made at my very first meeting with my team at Care, and I am happy to report that it has not been entirely symptomatic for my experience here in Vietnam as an intern. However it did set a tone for my time here, which I believe has influenced the extent of interest, feedback and cooperation that I have gotten from both my supervisor, and senior supervisor.

However some times things take a turn for the unexpected. It all seemed to coincide with me having dengue fever, and consequently measles. Personal get-well calls from the senior supervisor, a surprising level of consideration for me missing my deadline, and then an invitation for Ia (my co-intern, housemate and favorite demon-child) and I to dine with the country director and the country coordinator from Care’s office in Denmark.

Suddenly we’re at a restaurant boasting an Italian/Mediterranean menu with prices quoted in us dollars, drinking house red wine by the carafes, eating lovely pasta dishes that taste like pasta should actually taste, and exchanging witty banter and sharp observations about the state of the development world with the big shots.

Conclusion: progress has been made, we’ve moved up in the world – at least for the last one and a half weeks of our internship…

Fear, tremblings, and trepidations

A friend recently inspired me to build my character. As we go through life, often we find ourselves in situations where we, for fear of criticism, rejection, anger, or any other reaction that may be unpleasant to deal with or cause us momentary pain, hurt or humiliation, hold back and decline from telling the truth or saying how we really feel. I suppose it is in some ways one of the conditions of being a human being, and having to navigate through life; we’re taught how to interact with each other from childhood, ensuring that relations run more smoothly and perhaps minimizing the frequency of grave misunderstandings, conflicts and confrontations between people.

An unfortunate bi-product of this is that sometimes we end up playing these odd games, pretending to feel differently than we really do, or taking all kinds of evasive action to camouflage the actual nature of our opinion or stand on something.

But every now and then I guess it is time to step up to the plate, take a very deep breath, and with great fear, tremblings and trepidations, go ahead and tell the truth.

It’s a rewarding feeling, and whilst inevitably you do care what the response will be when the smoke clears, it just feels great in its own right. So as I was saying, I’ve taken the jump, and I feel stronger and more confident for doing it…