Inside Looking Out

I opted out of any planned adventure today.  It's been one of those let's-look-down-an-uncharted-alley-and-then-chart-it-ourselves kind of day.  Per usual, I rushed through breakfast and down the road to work.  And then I rushed through my morning, looking for any and everything with which to pack the time till it bulged at the seams.  And then something miraculous happened: LIFE.

I was most fortunate and very honored to share a birthday lunch with the handful of wonderful women who make the world go 'round at 54 Traditions.  They prepared a veritable banquet of platters stacked with fish and shrimp and noodles and bowls filled to the brim with salad and broth and fish head soup.  Even more savory than the meal was their company.  It was the first opportunity I'd had to really converse with and observe them casually joking and chatting.  I managed to pick up half their names and I think half of them picked up mine.  They are terribly friendly and generous and I look forward to getting to know them better.

Instead of embarking on a touristic, plotted adventure aided by a handy and conspicuous guidebook, I slowed down and dawdled.  I actually looked inside the shops that line the streets I walk everyday.  I noticed alleyways and the people down them and decided to follow their lead.  Getting slightly lost with no particular end location in mind, I meandered and mingled my way down a small river branching off the lake by which I'm living.  The cacophony of shouts and horns managed to be dampened with a distance of a few streets, and although not peaceful by any means, this small riverwalk allowed for a much-needed slow-down.

Down a street I'd never been. I like the contrast of old and new.

Pineapples, Amy!!! And baby ones, at that!

More old and new.

Little slice of paradise.

Roman let me accompany him to Blue Dragon, an organization with which he volunteers to teach street children English.  Trekking through the area, which is literally on the other side of the tracks in a village that was absorbed by the capital, allowed me to paint a more vivid picture of Hanoi.  Butchers set up their chopping tables in alleys and the streets are filled with fresh and cooked food. I tried fried corn cake; think funnel cake but embedded with corn kernels.  It was surprisingly sweet and tasty.

Meeting the people at Blue Dragon, both the workers and the children, was a perspective-altering experience.  I played Uno with a twelve-year-old girl who looked to be in second grade.  The immensely friendly social worker, with whom I chatted while Roman gave his lesson, informed me of the little girl's age and how her family was unable to provide enough food to catalyze her growth.  The work that Blue Dragon is doing is simply incredible, allowing these children (who would otherwise have been working on the street) to attend school and providing them with a safe, stable environment.  It really made me appreciate all that I and those I care about have been blessed with.

Today they were celebrating all the January birthdays.

This evening, Roman and I attended a viewing  of the 1987 film Wings of Desire (Der Himmel über Berlin) at the Goethe Institute.  It was suuuuper artsy but really good and filled with German existentialism.  If you're in the mood to question your existence while reading subtitles, I'd definitely recommend it.   To top off the massive amounts of food I ingested today, we stopped at the Goethe Institute cafe where I got the best creme caramel I've had thus far.

Today's highlight occurred while I was doing absolutely nothing during my whiling-away time.  As I haphazardly explored my surroundings, I stopped in at a little (like the size of a foyer) cafe, ordered a beer, and sat down.  I initially intended to use the time to read up on a site I'm planning to visit, but today was simply not a day for being overly productive.  Two men were playing a board game at an adjacent table.  It resembled checkers in appearance but seemed much more complicated strategically.  (Roman later informed me it must have been Chinese Chess.)  They were using pieces that looked like sushi sliced on the thin side, and half the time they would make a move, they'd slam the piece down with a very pleasant thwack.  I've no idea how it was played or who had the upper hand, but I'm immensely glad their game caught my attention and prevented me from ruining a lovely bottle of beer.