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Hanoi: Paris of the East!
Based on Hollywood movies, my image of Hanoi was dark alleys, spies, sound of guns and melodrama. The reality was, however, diametrically opposite. No immigration forms at the airport and only one snaking conveyor belt.
As we whizzed past verdant paddy fields on the highway to the city, one was mesmerized with the rolling landscape dotted with blue sky reflecting lakes. Being near the delta of Red river, the red soil combined with the green and blue to weave a fascinating nature’s tapestry. The houses on both sides had a narrow frontage, tunnel like depth, no windows, colourful pillars and balconies. Each house had a pointed glass attachment on the roof, the rotating rim of which provided air circulation.
After the official meeting of delegates and function of handing over of I.T. centre built by India, we set out to explore the myriad faces of Hanoi. Most coveted tourist spot was the Temple of Confucius, named after the 6th century Chinese philosopher. In 1076, Vietnam’s 1st University and Imperial Academy, where affluent and royalty studied, was established here. The building is depicted on the 10,000 Vietnamese Dong note. In the 3rd courtyard, there were 116 stone tortoise (holy symbol of longevity and wisdom) sculptures on which names of 1,307 successful royal students are inscribed. A huge group of giggling girls had queued up to touch the heads of tortoises and pray for success in exams.
The Army museum having remnant exhibits from wars with China, France and the US gave an insight into the history of Vietnamese struggle. Most fascinating was an outdoor exhibit of almost vertical USF 11 crashed plane, which obviously was the most popular photo site. In the premises was the 200 years old hexagonal flag tower, of red exposed bricks, symbol of Hanoi and included in UNESCO heritage site.
By now we were famished. Nok, a wiry dainty translator with the classic Oriental porcelain skin and a permanent smile, took us to the ‘Old Quarters’ in the old city portion. The buildings here displayed classic French architecture; small wayside restaurants with tables and chairs on the footpath and a sea of cyclo-scooters passing by. Nok’s excited description of the delicacies from dogs, snakes, ant’s eggs made blood curdle of both vegetarian and non-vegetarian in our group. Finally we settled for ‘Pho’ a simple rice noodle soup, a popular breakfast meal in Vietnam.
In Hanoi, one has to experience the cyclo-scooter taxi ride. The road we ventured had no zebra crossing and hordes of cycloscooters zig-zagging around us. Hanoi has 14 million population and 10 million cyclo-scooters. Focus on walking with small steps and do not worry about vehicles which would themselves avoid you, was her mantra.
Each one of us wore a cap like helmet and sat on the rear seat of the cyclo-scooter. Hanging on for dear life, as the scooters weaved through traffic at break neck speed. Relieved to be in one piece, we got down at One Pillar Pagoda. More than 1,450 years old, surrounded by a small pond with white and pink lotuses, there was a single staircase to the shrine. Devotees had offered fruits, food and even chocolates. Incense sticks were lit only in odd numbers. Here, number 4 denoted ill luck and death. In the surrounding garden was a mammoth Pipal tree, gifted as a sapling from Bodh Gaya tree by then President of India Dr Rajendra Prasad to the Vietnamese President in 1958. Just a tree, but it made us feel a connect to our homeland.
The black and white granite mausoleum of Ho Chi Minh, the Communist Party Chairman from 1951 to 1969, in Ba Dinh Square was a must see place. It was here that the Independence Declaration had been first read by him. Though inspired by Lenin’s mausoleum in Moscow, its architecture had a distinct Vietnamese stamp. The body housed in the building is sent to Moscow annually for embalming.
The visit to Hanoi was incomplete without seeing the French and Gothic building of Opera House, the biggest in Vietnam. It’s best to pre-book the tickets. The auditorium was jam packed with people in diverse apparels from different countries. There was an excited hush as the lights dimmed and the curtains opened. On one side sat the orchestra group in traditional Chinese collar dress and satin pyjamas. The stage was half submerged in water as this was a ‘Water Puppet’ show. It was a feast of music, songs and traditional stories. Though I had witnessed numerous cultural programmes in different countries, this show took my breath away.
The next day was a festival in the memory of the Dead, on which all dead spirits are believed to revisit Earth. The favourite food of the dead person was offered and no new or important work was done on that day. In memory of dead mother, a white rose is worn. This reminded me of the ‘shraadh’ observed in India.
As the plane took off, I felt a sense of connectivity which I was carrying back of the simple, hardworking and happy Vietnamese people who had struggled for years and today, along with modernization, are also striving to preserve their tradition and culture. The indelible memory of Hanoi, also known as Paris of the East would remain with me.