Hello again!
The Vietnamese government is holding us (possibly overnight) so I have a few minutes on-line here in a port hotel lobby before boarding the ship either today or tomorrow.
My trip over was uneventful; I had forgotten that flying economy on THAI is like flying first class on domestic flights in the USA (e.g., an open bar on the flight and real silverware). I arrived in Bangkok, Thailand after 17 hours and made a mad dash across the airport to my connecting flight with no time to spare and another 2 hours in the air. As I looked out the window after the flight landed I was surprised to note an international airport with only 2 runways and 4 airplanes. I was keenly aware that the relationship between our country and Hanoi defined the young adulthood, and all of the college years, of my husband and many of our friends, all of whom have never been dearer to me.
With the other passengers I signed an oath I had not sneezed or coughed at any time before or during the flight. On the ground we had to pass a line of military personnel who observed us (checking for illicit sneezes?) and one passenger was "invited" to accompany a military officer. I had changed into my Project: HOPE t-shirt, per instructions, and draped my stethoscope around my neck in an effort to ease my passage through immigration. Despite my efforts I was followed by someone in uniform who appeared to be taking notes.
In the terminal I was approached by a man who said he was there to collect me for Project: HOPE. I was relieved until my antennae kicked in and I realized the Project: HOPE t-shirt made me an easy target. While he was trying to get me to enter a taxi I demanded to see his ID and I think smoke began to come out of my ears because he backed away - slowly. I started to question drivers about the fare, and between the variety of different fares quoted, and being followed by military personnel, I became exasperated and decided to walk to the hotel. I ducked behind security to enter the office of the head of the airport, who surely would have done a "spit take" if he had had liquid in his mouth. Despite his shock at seeing me in his office he graciously supplied directions to the hotel and reassured me regarding safety.
Interestingly, as I headed down the road to only one of two international airports in this country, during the 1.5 kilometer walk I counted only 1 truck, 2 cars, and about 7 mopeds (small motorcycles). The hotel, a remnant from French colonial occupation, lacked door locks and housed rodents. I promised Project: HOPE I would remain flexible so I gulped twice and headed out to go explore the city. To my great good fortune, I ran into 2 other volunteers (a pediatrician and our public affairs officer) and they relayed the welcome information that Project: HOPE decided to relocate us to a different hotel in central Hanoi. The shuttle ride was filled with rice paddies surrounding us, water buffalo in the street, and landscape dotted with gorgeous remnants of French colonial architecture interspersed with bombed out buildings.
We were greeted by the head volunteer, recently returned from his honeymoon, who told us he met his wife on the same mission a few years earlier, in which he had to medivac his now-wife out of the country because she had contracted dengue fever. Definitely could have done without that tidbit of information.
After checking into the hotel I accomplished 2 of my goals: I photographed 2 Communists who had fought against the USA waving the American flags I brought, and more importantly, I toured the Hanoi Hilton prison, which was emotional and which I would prefer not to describe.
I walked around Hoan Kiem Lake with the famed tortoise pagoda that serves as the emblem of the city (the myth is that the emperor received a divine sword to protect the city and after accomplishing his feat a tortoise rose up and nabbed the sword to return it to the heavens). I toured the Old Quarter, in which each street is named for the major commodity it sells, including the flower market street, the fruit market street, the silk street, the rice street, the paper street, and the votive object street. I explored St. Joseph's Cathedral, Thu Le Park, West Lake, the huge Ho Chi Minh statue and mausoleum, and the one-pillar pagoda.
I walked until my shoes literally began to separate at the seams and then I rented a rickshaw and rode around town for an hour (and saw Asian tourists engaged in identical rickshaw tours, all of us smiling and waving at each other). One funny thing that happened is that when the rickshaw driver took off he drove straight into the oncoming path of a truck. My life did not flash before my eyes but I said out loud, "well, at least I got to see Hanoi" (chuckle).
Make no mistake, Hanoi is a relic of French colonialism. The architecture is exquisite. The French pastries and baguettes rival those in Paris and I am inexorably addressed with a respectful "Madam." When I insisted on buying a coca cola for my rickshaw driver several people gathered and began to smile and shout out, "Nice Lady! Good Lady!" it was lovely.
I was up this morning shortly after 3 a.m. I met up with several group members, each more interesting and more wonderful than the next and from all over the USA in jobs ranging from physician to photographer to physical therapist to nurse to dentist. After a 2-hour flight we arrived in the port city of Qui Nohn on the Gulf of Tonkin.
Although the Vietnamese embassy in Washington, D.C. issued our passport visas nearly a month ago, the Peoples' Committee want to "review" everything and thus, we just learned, we will spend the night here in Qui Nohn. "Flexible" is unquestionably our leit motif.
I was told it may be a few days until we may use the on-ship email and there is a chance that blogging will not fit the security profile. If this is so, I will say an early "good-bye" and again ask that you pray for the success of this important medical and diplomatic mission (the Vietnamese want to reestablish a relationship with the USA and our government has chosen to do this via civilian medical personnel providing much-needed health care). We are here to serve. The conversation and laughter are constant, the good will is high, the sense of adventure higher, and the line to use this computer grows.
I carry you, my family and friends, in my heart.
