It will be hard for a first time Hanoi visitor to miss two unmistakable facts; the Vietnamese are a friendly bunch and they must be loving their karaoke. As you make the drive from the airport to city center you start seeing a series of Karaoke bars. My conjecture turned to fact when my hosts did confirm that karaoke is a national pastime and one of them is said have a family karaoke night every Saturday. With the average age of the country being put at 28 years that is no surprise.
Hanoi was part of the communist North during the bloody war between the two Vietnams. Today the entire country is communist and the sickle and hammer are ubiquitous alongside western brands. It isn’t entirely surprising when I am told that Hanoi is very conservative as compared to Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon); the American influence still holds. It was the fall of Saigon in 1975 that signaled the withdrawal of the US occupation of Vietnam. The Hanoi of today is like a Mumbai or Kolkata; a blend of colonial architecture and the present day unchecked urbanization. The city center with the old quarter bears the romance of a bygone French era. As you move away from the city it starts to get dilapidated and drab with modern day grotesque structures often with dangerously unauthorized extensions made to buildings. What stands in contrast though are the immaculately dressed smart young policemen in their jackets and ties. I wonder if this is their winter uniform.
This is the age of globalization (or at least it was until January 20th) so expat managers of multinational organizations would be posted to peddle their wares to a country of 90 million people. In deference to their demands and requirements condo communities are seen mushrooming away from the city. Those that are under development are replete with the usual hoardings of computer generated images of kids frolicking in the play area, metro-sexuals in the aerobic studios and families having quality fun time. Time can be a premium with the horrific traffic jams in the city.
My host tells me that both his parents were on the front during the war; his dad a soldier and mother a nurse. Even though the hostilities were over when he started school, they were trained to seek refuge in bomb shelters should a fighter jet were to fly over the city. It must have been the undying human spirit and uncompromising patriotism that triumphed over the might of military superpower at the hands of these seemingly docile and friendly people.
As I took the drive back to the airport, the car music system played local pop songs. In his broken English, the taxi driver asked me where was I from. I saw him struggle with his music system; the end result was Arijit Singh songs all the way to the airport!
The-White-Belt 