The United States of America elects a new president and Hanoi lies under water. The hostel bar is open and backpackers raise a glass.
The centre of town, where a traveller can find the French Quarter, the Old Quarter and many of the tourist sights, is not flooded, though there is rain. The hostel is here too along with most of the city's affordable hotels and guest houses. We are relatively dry.
I am glad not to be under water. A cold has knocked me down and I spend a lot of time relaxing with a tea or a coffee, waiting for better health - occupations that would be infinitely worse if accompanied by streams and puddles.
With a lot of sitting around, I talk to the Vietnamese staff at the hostel. "The water at my home is up to here," says one, levelling her hand out at the shoulder of her five-foot-nothing frame.
"Really?"
I've seen the news with everyone else: cars half-driving, half-floating through puddles that really aren't; locals polling their rafts down major streets. But this girl doesn't look wet. She doesn't look like she nearly drowned getting to work.
The images of disaster are stuck on the TV screen. An old woman down the street is selling pho with green onions and chillis and duck. A stall around the corner lays out pork and onion fried in thick, greasy batter. It's happy hour at the hostel: two beer for 20,000 dong - $1.30 Canadian.
The usual suspects enjoy a drink. The English football fan, red-faced, stumbles as he goes for a smoke. The angry Australian, who speaks like a piece of propaganda, stabs the air and sips her beer when she makes a point. The newly-graduated university students make the most of cheap drinks.
The centre of town, where a traveller can find the French Quarter, the Old Quarter and many of the tourist sights, is not flooded, though there is rain. The hostel is here too along with most of the city's affordable hotels and guest houses. We are relatively dry.
I am glad not to be under water. A cold has knocked me down and I spend a lot of time relaxing with a tea or a coffee, waiting for better health - occupations that would be infinitely worse if accompanied by streams and puddles.
With a lot of sitting around, I talk to the Vietnamese staff at the hostel. "The water at my home is up to here," says one, levelling her hand out at the shoulder of her five-foot-nothing frame.
"Really?"
I've seen the news with everyone else: cars half-driving, half-floating through puddles that really aren't; locals polling their rafts down major streets. But this girl doesn't look wet. She doesn't look like she nearly drowned getting to work.
The images of disaster are stuck on the TV screen. An old woman down the street is selling pho with green onions and chillis and duck. A stall around the corner lays out pork and onion fried in thick, greasy batter. It's happy hour at the hostel: two beer for 20,000 dong - $1.30 Canadian.
The usual suspects enjoy a drink. The English football fan, red-faced, stumbles as he goes for a smoke. The angry Australian, who speaks like a piece of propaganda, stabs the air and sips her beer when she makes a point. The newly-graduated university students make the most of cheap drinks.
I join some of them for sight-seeing in the morning. Under mostly cloudy skies, we see the Ho Chi Mihn Mausoleum and the Hanoi Hilton prison - both very interesting. We stop at the war museum for a bite to eat and a drink, where the trees send water down our backs as we look at the day's photos.
Next day, the 5th, I sit with a guy from New York and watch Americans decide who will lead them. There are no surprises early on. We get reports, between election results, of continued flooding in Hanoi and rain throughout the region.
Other backpackers join us and Pennsylvania tips in Obama's favour; we suspect something special will happen. A cheer hits the ceiling and we order a round of beer when CNN declares a winner just as results from California come in.
In his speech, Obama says that America has voted for change. I turn and head into the noon-day sun that has just begun to peek through the clouds. It is time for some fresh air.
Next day, the 5th, I sit with a guy from New York and watch Americans decide who will lead them. There are no surprises early on. We get reports, between election results, of continued flooding in Hanoi and rain throughout the region.
Other backpackers join us and Pennsylvania tips in Obama's favour; we suspect something special will happen. A cheer hits the ceiling and we order a round of beer when CNN declares a winner just as results from California come in.
In his speech, Obama says that America has voted for change. I turn and head into the noon-day sun that has just begun to peek through the clouds. It is time for some fresh air.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment