Hanoi

We must have been quite a sight staggering into the lobby of the stately Sofitel Metropole in Hanoi, our bodies loaded down with multiple packs and bags, still sporting the t-shirts, shorts and flip flops that we'd put on that morning in Mui Ne, panting and sweating from the final leg of a journey that had seen us traversing the misty, winding streets of central Hanoi in search of our hotel, stuffed to the gills inside a minibus loaded floor to ceiling with luggage and passengers, only vaguely certain that we were heading towards our intended destination, holding tightly to each others' hands on our flight from Saigon as our pilot made turns that felt as though we may corkscrew into a barrel roll at any moment, searching the teeming streets of Saigon for an internet cafe that would allow us to print our boarding pass in the 95 degree heat, fully loaded with our packs and bouncing along the open highway in the tour bus that we climbed aboard that morning in Mui Ne. "This is like an episode of the Amazing Race," said Tara as we moved from one hurdle to the next, feeling a wonderful sense of accomplishment in completing what would be in another context the most mundane of tasks -- catching the right bus, finding a computer that will print our documents -- but this is one of the most enjoyable experiences of traveling: to step firmly outside of your comfort zone and trust in your instincts and in the kindness of strangers to help you along your way.

So we were very happy and relieved to arrive finally at our hotel where we were greeted graciously with a room upgrade, a box of chocolates and a bouquet of roses in celebration of our honeymoon, even though our appearance wasn't quite in keeping with the "elegant, yet casual dress code" that the Metropole requires in all public spaces. It was quite an experience to stay in the elegantly restored colonial era hotel that was located just a few blocks from the Old Quarter of Hanoi with its narrow, winding streets, food stalls and street vendors who brought a whole new meaning to "fresh and local" with their buckets of squirming river fish, scampering tiny blue crabs and bag loads of hopping, croaking toads. Inside the Old Quarter you can find yourself turning the corner from a modern scene of buzzing mopeds and florescent store fronts to a narrowing, stone paved alley that feels lifted straight from the medieval era of the city's founding, one thousand years ago. At the center of it all is Hoan Kiem Lake, with its murky, emerald waters and mist that hangs like ghosts around the mossy stone pagoda resting in the center of the lake. Lanterns hang in the trees along the shore and young couples gather in the evening to sit on stone benches and watch the lights dance across the water.

We found Hanoi to be endlessly fascinating and spent much of our time just wandering around the city, shopping in merchants stalls and storefronts, eating delicious meals that ranged from a simple bowl of Pho to gourmet Vietnamese fare that was unlike anything we've ever tasted in the states. Tara enjoyed shopping for hand woven silk items and I got a great deal on a custom tailored pair of wool and cashmere dress pants. We drank freshly brewed Bia Hoi on tiny plastic chairs in makeshift storefronts surrounded by a lively mixture of travelers and locals. We explored the thousand year old Temple of Literature where students of Confuscianism have studied since the founding of the city. We were able to combine our love of food with our desire to support local NGOs addressing the issues of poverty and inequity that are an unfortunate reality within Vietnam's rapidly developing economy through a couple of organizations that operate restaurants and training programs for disadvantaged youth and street kids, preparing their graduates for employment in the high end restaurant and hotel industry. These organizations, called KOTO and Hoa Sua are similar in mission to Seattle's Fare Start and worth checking out if you ever find yourself in Hanoi.

Our last night in Hanoi, we went to the water puppet theater to watch a performance of live music and puppetry. Water puppet shows originated in the Vietnamese rice farming culture, providing a form of art and entertainment during times of flooding. The puppeteers stand in knee deep water, hidden behind a stage and control the hand carved wooden puppets by long reeds of bamboo concealed beneath the water. The puppets are elaborately carved and painted into figures of humans, animals and dragons, and act out playful, humorous scenes set to a traditional Vietnamese folk music that centers around a single stringed instrument that sounds like a mesmerizing cross between a theremin and a banjo.

After the show, we took one last walk around the lake in the misty Hanoi evening, joining countless other couples who had come there together to look out across the shimmering surface of the water, and I wondered at the mysterious allure of this city that holds so many seemingly opposing forces -- the ancient and the modern, the Eastern and the Western, the communist and the capitalist -- and yet maintains an ever shifting harmony that is truly enchanting and can only be felt by being there within it.