Postcard from Hanoi
Drinking “fresh beer” while sitting on child-sized furniture, dodging a constant stream of motorcycle traffic, group aerobics by the lake before the sun rises: this is Hanoi.
The city in Vietnam’s north is remarkably cold: in temperature, in ambiance, in attitude. I layered on all the clothes I had, wrapping my scarf around my face, in an attempt to warm up from the biting wind and shield myself against the scams that seemed ever-present. The skies and streets in Hanoi are gray; Communist-red motorcycles, plastic furniture and buckets in primary colors, turquoise shutters are the only pops of life. Flights from Saigon only take an hour or so, but it seems a world away.
Limes and chopsticks at a street food stall.
Preparing the day’s food in the alley before sunrise.
Parents on after-school pick-up duty on motorcycles–and one awkward school photo.
Reflections in the water in the dead of night.
Two adorable girls sharing a steamed pork bun across the table from me.
Men perch on kid-sized stools to sip afternoon beers.
Two women gossip as motorcycles rush by on the street.
What’s your favorite photo of Hanoi?
