I am living in the Old Quarter of Hanoi, where life spills into the streets. Women sit huddled together in conversation over bowls of noodles, cooked in a pan at their side. The soft, almost melodic hum of scooters weaves through the crowds of pedestrians and bicyclists. I sit and observe over a cup of coffee, the best coffee I have tasted in months. Strong and slightly bitter, mixed to perfection with sweetened milk, which I ingest by the spoonful. I digress, my mind wanders, the common trait of a pensive observer…
Some sort of concoction of beans, fruit, ice and condensed milk, delicious! Such tasty street foods!
A day was spent at the Mekong Delta, a scenic river with lush green canals, home to many local farmers. A land of nature and tranquility. From a bus to a motor boat to a rowboat to a taxi to a plane to Hanoi…
It is here in Vietnam that
exhaustion has finally caught up with me. This is a rapidly moving city, everyone seems to be zipping by on a scooter, and to cross the street is quite an interactive experience. Perhaps it’s the intense heat or over-stimulation of the past four months, or perhaps the desire to simply call a place my home. My mind is filled with so many visions, at once they form a most elaborate composition of people and places…the world has taken residence in my head. These days in Saigon are spent indulging in bowls of Pho, those noodles which I love, and a little bit of shopping (I will save my energy for the tailors in Hanoi). And of course a great deal of culture. A heavy day of history at the War Remnants Museum. What is it that they say, be careful when discussing religion and politics? I would have to agree. Tomorrow the Mekong Delta…
The devastation that met so many Cambodians in the years of the Khmer Rouge’s rule is unthinkable. A day frought with emotion and much sadness as I visited the Tuol Sleng Museum, once the Tuol Svay Prey High School, turned Security Prison 21, the largest center of detention and torture in the country. The spaces where so many innocent lives were lost, chambers with rusty beds, wooden cells in which there was room only for grief. The survivors of this prison were taken to the killing fields of Cheoung Ek, which became the memorial of these 17,000 men, women and children who were so wrongfully executed. 129 mass graves, sights of a dark and somber past that will remain with me as I journey through history.
Thommanon is an intimate temple that exhibits much detail…have I mentioned how many temples I have seen? Perhaps enough for a lifetime, though I suspect more await in the days ahead…
My favorite of the temples is Ta Prohm, set in a tangle of trees, creating a mood of romance. Rightfully so, the King dedicated the temple to his mother. The light was perfect as it shone on this temple that was left in it’s natural state of collapse, in my view quite a beautiful state. I could have easily spent another week lost amidst the temples that create this ancient Angkor Kingdom, there are so many! Each one unique in it’s grandeur.