Hitting the pavement in Hanoi (Train Street-Old Quarter…)

Train Street 

I took a Grab taxi (the online app common throughout Asia for transportation) to Train Street which is near the Old Quarter in Hanoi. I’ve seen pictures on the internet depicting a vibrant communal area filled with vendors, restaurants, and tourists living and interacting in the midst of an active train track running through the narrow neighborhood. According to local stories, prior to the pandemic, Train Street vendors would have their stalls filling the area and when the train was imminent, they would hurriedly move their belongings out of the way. Unfortunately, reality and stories clashed providing a stark contrast to expectations. Walking through the area, I observed a smattering of tourists meandered about the train tracks taking pictures while being accosted by those trying to make a living selling beer, beverages, trinkets, and food. I decided to sit down at a patio facing the train tracks hoping the train would come chugging past me and ordered an “egg beer”. 

Egg Beer: The bartender spoke broken English and laughed when he brought out the drink. The drink itself was served in a small glass filled halfway with water downed beer and the other half (head) was a thick creamy sweetened egg foam. Without warning, the bartender took my straw and started stirring the mixture stating it would be better to drink it this way. I was more concerned his fingers were touching the place where I would soon be placing my mouth. In retrospect he was right; the egg concoction sweetened the light beer and provided a unique food experience I never could have imagined. 

After paying my tab of 60,000 Dong ($2.58 USD), I walked the rest of the train track. All the vendors slapped their hands or cat-called exclaiming the train was arriving in an hour in an attempt to make me stop and buy whatever they were selling, yet it never came. Nothing of what I had read about Train Street was my reality, but it was another experience, another place, another box to be checked in the long list of never-ending sights to behold. Later, I asked several locals why Train Street seemed abandoned. I was told the pandemic had decimated the tourist industry and there were not nearly as many people visiting Hanoi.

Old Quarter – Monday through Thursday

The heart of Hanoi pulsated with a vast array of sights, sounds, smells, and what appeared to be boundless places to explore. Endless side streets ebbed and flowed from the main street arteries. Some have described it as a marketplace, but that would be an understatement, an oversimplification after visiting Chatuchak Market in Bangkok, Thailand. The Old Quarter is a combination of neighborhoods, businesses, markets, restaurants, hotels, spas, massage parlors, bars, nightclubs, and much more depending on how much you can absorb. It is overwhelming and simple in its design. There is a vastness about it that punctures the psyche and provides a jarring reminder there is always another nook to explore, cranny to look around, and opening to look through. In addition, the bartering for all things in Hanoi is the expected normative practice. For example, a street vendor asked 100,000 Dong for a bracelet and by the end, we agreed for two bracelets for 35,000 Dong. In this way and at a certain point, I finally accepted the moment and gave into the chaos. Cultural acclimation happens through the external pressures at different points, at differing times, and within the funds of knowledge one has acquired which for me has provided an accelerated acceptance of Vietnamese culture and norms. 

Fortunately, the Old Quarter does not stop giving to the tourists and its people. On Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights, the area becomes the Old Quarter Night Market at which point authorities cordon off the streets to traffic after 7:00PM and pedestrians are allowed to roam about. Beer Street is a focal point for most tourists and locals, and supposedly farmers from surrounding communities outside of Hanoi arrive to sell their goods. 

Shrimp Fried Bread:Throughout Hanoi street vendors are numerous, which was to be expected, but I struggled to find food that seemed consumable. I walked past stalls with raw meat simmering in the noon day heat, live fish being quartered on the sidewalk, produce and exotic fruits (lychee, mango, plums, apples, guava) and empty restaurants. I knew from prior experience to avoid the restaurants that were empty, but it seemed every restaurant was a vacant tomb. In addition, the coffee shop on every corner had menus in English and Vietnamese but the restaurant menus were only in Vietnamese. I was becoming hungry. Finally, I observed a scrumptious looking shrimp bread (fritter?) lying neatly tucked away in a street vendors basket and it happened to be whispering my name. I paid the 15,000 Dong and watched intently as she dropped the cake dough into the dark oil. It fried for approximately one minute (hopefully killing all the bacteria so I could stay vertical for the next several days), and it was handed to me wrapped neatly in a napkin. I devoured the soft bread containing crispy shrimp all the while savoring the balanced nuances of oil, bread, and crustacean(s).