A Life Less Ordinary

Now that I’ve just arrived at my final destination (Siem Reap), I can safely say that Hoi An was my favorite part of Vietnam. Even though I was alone, the won and its compact 3×4 block core was the perfect to get lost for a few days and feel alone. There were often as many westerners on the streets as locals, which could be a bad thing but I chose to interpret it as Hoi An really being worth it. Hoi An is an ancient fishing village some 3 hours south of Hue, which was Vietnam’s capital during imperialist times. What makes Hoi An so unique, however, is its remarkably untouched old quarter, which hasn’t seen redevelopment (or any changes short of electricity, plumping) for a number of years. I spent the first day getting oriented, buying a rain poncho, and visiting some of the more noted historical sites.
The first site I visited, sort of by accident, as the Cantonese Assembly House, built in 1786 and almost completely unchanged since its construction by Chinese seafarers. I then found The House of Tan Ky, a unique 18th century Hoi An landmark known for its interesting combination of various Asian architectural styles. There are Chinese symbolic carvings, Japanese inscriptions and myths in the design of the courtyard, and typically Vietnamese changes to accommodate the shop-front that the house used to have. I then meandered through the shops and art galleries (a generous term) of Tran Phu St to the most famous of Hoi An’s landmarks, the Japanese Covered Bridge. This bridge was finished in 1593 to connect Japanese traders in the western city to the Old Quarter. It has suffered some damage and was renovated and is still a beautiful landmark, even if it doesn’t really serve its original purpose.
More than the sites, Hoi An is known as a mecca for tailoring all types of clothes, from women’s jackets to men’s ties and everything in between. Words cannot describe the oddity of a scene the main streets are in Hoi An, buildings with glittering Christmas lights and dangling Chinese lanterns in every color. There are bright silk dresses and gray and black suits on mannequins that nearly invade the street. Galleries selling jewelry, laquerware, and of course art are everywhere, catering to a fairly wide array of tastes. I bought a piece of art (My first ever) for my apartment in Washington and I’m pretty jazzed about it; it’s an abstract version of Hoi An reflected on water, but it looks as if Hoi An was magically turned into Times Square due to the mix of colors. It’s hard to explain. Nonetheless, I visited two tailors in Hoi An (wished I went to more), Yaly and Phuoc An. I had the same things made at both, a suit and shirt combo. Yaly was always crowded and my attendant, Cynthia was very nice, but always seemed rushed. The resulting suit was probably the better made, but it was also the most expensive. Phuoc An was much different, calmer and bigger and my personal guide, Cam, was incredibly sweet and helpful. We eventually got to be pretty comfortable, so she was asking about things totally unrelated to Hoi An, like how America is and if I have siblings. She was pretty nice. The suit I had made at Phuoc An was a little slimmer fitting, which is all about personal taste, but it was also cheaper and I absolutely preferred the atmosphere of Phuoc An to the frenzy at Yaly. In any case, ended up with more clothes than I came to Hoi An with, so mission: Success.
More than anything in Hoi An, the pure atmosphere of walking down the lantern lit streets was the most alluring. The numerous restaurants were also a big treat. I sampled everything from ginger chicken on a rooftop plaza overlooking the river and a sea of red lanterns as well as peanut pork rice paper cakes in a little household courtyard mentioned for that exact dish. My favorite meals for the first time in Asia, were actually those containing the local specialties, the “white rose” and crispy wantons. I had the white rose at the well known Mermaid Grille, and they were delicious; basically a series of small shrimp filled dumplings formed into the shape of a rose and it was the sauce that made it spectacular. My other favorite was a wanton meal I had at Mr. Dong’s, a stand in a series of stalls amongst picnic tables near the water. The wanton was almost Mexican inspired, with green onion, chili, chicken, carrot and spices on a crispy wafer. It was easily the best lunch I had, all for about US$2.50.
I think the most enduring part of Hoi An for me was the simplicity of it all. There weren’t thousands of motorbikes through whom you had to navigate just to cross the street. There wasn’t a constant movement of elderly ladies balancing fruit on two shoulders attempting to force them on me for a cheap photo op. I could wonder the streets without my iPod and still feel entirely in my element, without constant noise. The shops all held treasures, even if many of them were replicates of another shop down the street, you could talk to the shop keepers and meet their children and then feel good buying something at (God forbid) full price without feeling you just got yanked around. The nightlife was exactly what vacation nightlife should be, relaxing; with full dinners and a few cocktails or beer on a wicker chair on a stoop listening to fellow tourists laugh or watching the river boats glide by. The only thing that would have made Hoi An a little better was the right company, but that is for another time.

Also, I wrote this on the bus yesterday, but I wanted to add in a very big HAPPY THANKSGIVING to everyone back in the states and elsewhere. Enjoy the turkey and mashed potatoes, I legit just had vegetable fried rice, which I swear to God if the Cambodian celebrated their first meeting with the French, that would be the meal. It was good either way, though I’ve been warned that we’ll be celebrating t-giving again at GW in January. Already looking forward to it. What I’m most thankful for at this moment in time is technology, allowing me to keep in touch with the people who mean the most to me through calls, blogs and other forms of communication. I’m also extremely thankful to have such supporting parents, who not only allowed but encouraged me to run wild here in SE Asia and helped me with everything they could. So it’s cliche, but the simple things are the most important and what I’m most thankful for this year, family, communication, and the joy of being able to look forward to coming back to MSP and DC.