Hello Hanoi!
June 15, 2022 (Wednesday)
To my surprise, I had no issues when I arrived in Hanoi International Airport. It might have been because it was 12:30 AM and/or we were the last plane arriving, but I was grateful for the smooth transition. Moving through the Visa processing line was simple and unobtrusive. I even received a smile from the agent stamping my Visa. Once I picked up my bag from the carousel, I did not have to fill out a customs declaration form like most countries, and I walked through customs without even a second glance from the uniformed persons working both lanes. Outside the airport, there was a driver holding a sign with my name, and approximately 40 minutes later I was standing in the rain outside of the volunteer house. The muggy heat enveloped my body like a warm embrace (much like Thailand) as the smells of Southeast Asia bombarded my senses.
Initial Observations
There was a locked gate barring entrance to the house. The driver rang the doorbell and shortly thereafter, I was greeted by a young Vietnamese woman who led me inside and up five flights of stairs to Room 501. While carrying my belongings up the five flights of stairs, I observed the first floor of the house was cluttered with all sorts of teaching books, miscellaneous pens and pencils, art books, picture cards, desks, and shelving units overflowing with similar items. Starting at the second floor leading up to the sixth floor, every level had two rooms, one on each side of the staircase, and one bathroom between each of the rooms. The second floor contained the common room on one side and the kitchen on the other. The common room contained two couches, a metal table seating six to 8, several individual cushioned lounge chairs and an opening to a deck with extra seating. I was told this was where we could “hang out”, eat our meals from the kitchen, and if needed, prepare lesson plans. The kitchen contained a water filtration system, dishes, refrigerator, and a small area where the cook prepared our breakfast, lunch, and dinners. The third through sixth floors were similar in design to the second floor but were dedicated bedrooms containing two to three sets of bunk beds, two small armoires, lockers to secure our belongings, and tables. I later found out there was a roof where the laundry machines were kept and a small deck for overlooking the city.
After lugging my belongings up the five flights of stairs, the young Vietnamese woman (an intern from the local university) directed me to Room 501. She turned on the lights, and there were three sets of bunk beds pushed against each wall. Two men were sleeping on the bottom bunks and the third bottom bunk was mine. A pink construction paper cutout heart was lying on the pillow and read “Welcome Giuseppe to CSDS!”. I plopped down on the single mattress exhausted from the all-day plane flight.
Reflection: My initial thoughts or impressions prior to closing my eyes were more associated to emotional reactions such as scared, excited, second-guessing, lonely, hopeful, confused, and attentive to the new sounds of Hanoi. For me, traveling abroad is the ultimate challenge; an opportunity to live in the moment. An instant where I safely face fight, flight, or freeze as opposed to confronting it in a law enforcement setting where choice was stripped from me and replaced with duty and sacrifice. In this way, I am allowed to delve deeply into who I am by setting the time and strategies that best work for me, and evolve or better yet progress within the parameters of my choosing. Fear becomes a construct rather than a means to an end; it’s shadow dissipates through exposure to healthy engagement, conversations, and experiences. I think that is why the darkness no longer clings to me. I know it shall pass like all other past and future endeavors leaving me the opportunity to live in the now without regret (past) or expectation (future).
New Day-First Day: Sleep eluded me. I expected it and didn’t fight it. I walked down to the second floor where I met several volunteers eating breakfast consisting of toast, your choice of blackberry or strawberry jam, peanut butter, an assortment of fruit, and my favorite instant Nescafe coffee. This basic breakfast was provided daily by the Center for Sustainable Development Studies (CSDS) organization. In addition, there was a “Nanny” who cleaned the dishes, cooked lunch and dinner for the house, and ensured the second floor was clean. We had to fill out a form in the morning notifying the Nanny if we were going to eat lunch and/or dinner because she went to the market on a daily basis to buy enough fresh food to cook for everyone. Further, she went so far as to save the meal for the person if we gave her enough notice that we would be late.
Initially, everyone was congenial, asked basic questions about where I was from and what I was doing in Vietnam. They were curious considering I was twenty years older than most, and I was the only one from America. Most were from the UK and the rest from France, Ireland, Mexico, and Germany. It was a cacophony of varying dialects competing for primacy amongst each other. I could see their insecurities brimming from their youth. For many I learned it was their first time away from home, and yet there was an innocence as they tried to fit in and find who would accept them. On the other hand, I also felt a strong sense of courage and wanderlust emanating from each of these unique individuals. These were to be common themes throughout the next several days; observing the various groups fluidly absorb some personalities, reject others, or seek attention from exploits and stories that were to be judged superficially during side or closed-door conversations. Within a short amount of time, I felt like I was in a petri dish of social acclimation and human drama.
Fortunately, I was able to escape the introduction period and elongated conversations I have found is common in these types of situations. Two interns named Moon and Ming agreed to show me around the neighborhood. We walked to the local jewelry story and exchanged my USD for Dong providing me the opportunity to interact with the businesses. Any other currency besides the Dong is not accepted and cash is king here. On a side note, if you’re curious, $300.00 USD gave me approximately 6,800,000 Dong which is a shit ton of money in this country! A bottle of water costs 9,000 Dong, a cup of coffee 35,000 to 55,000 Dong, a 30 minute Grab motor scooter ride 60,000 Dong, a one way public transportation bus ride to my school an hour away 10,000 Dong, and a meal from one of the local restaurants is in the range of 110,000 to 150,000 Dong. Back to the neighborhood tour. Moon attends the local university which is located approximately half a mile from our house. Fortunately, there is a temple on the university grounds, so it gave me my first opportunity to interact with the local Buddhist customs.
Temple Hua Thanh Chuah:
We walked through the open gate which was seemed to reflect a strong Chinese influence based on the design structure, Chinese symbols, and surrounding architecture. The temple was devoid of any persons including monks. The worship area had a modest figure adorned inside the worship area but more in the Taoist image of the Buddha. This meant the Buddha was thin, had facial hair, and the clothing resembled a Chinese robe. Another aspect that took me by surprise, there was no sitting area designated for devotees. Persons wanting to pay their respect stood and bowed three times with their hands in the praying position, but there was no expectation of where the hands were in relation to your head or body. In addition, the roof and sculptures scattered throughout the pavilion had curvatures at each corner like a pagoda. I asked Moon if there was a place to meditate and she stated the temples in Hanoi were primarily used for major holidays. I now understood why there were no places dedicated to individual meditation or interacting with others. To be honest, I was surprised by the lack of engagement because I was not expecting a disconnect from the spiritual element I thought was ingrained in the Asian culture. Upon further investigation, I learned ancestor worship was a more accepted form of religious connection for those in the city and rural areas. In general, Buddhism was more a supplemental element but not primary to how the Vietnamese people function on a daily basis. It seemed my time in the temples would be limited to interacting with the unique architecture, abundant well manicured gardens, and various sculptures depicting the lesser gods of Buddhism.
