Leavin On A Midnight Train

This morning finds us in Hue, Vietnam's historical capital about 600 miles south of Hanoi and once again online. Yesterday afternoon, we decided to go a little touristy on our last day in Hanoi and finally succumb to the repeated solicitations of our friend Ting to take us on a "cyclo" (what is mostly known around the world as a rickshaw) tour.

Our first stop was the historic Hoa Lo prison (known to most Americans as the Hanoi Hilton), where downed American pilots, including John McCain, were held for the duration of the war. It was pretty surreal to see this part of well known American history from the enemy perspective. Since this is a big tourist attraction, the government has filled it with propaganda shots of pilots laughing, drinking beers, playing volleyball and eating Christmas dinner, all the while assuring us is wasn't so bad to be an American inmate. While undoubtedly tainted by our perspective, we were surprised at the very limited exhibits on the American-Vietnam war. By constrast, the museum primarily depicts the gruesome conditions in which Vietnamese prisoners lived under French rule, giving particular attention to the political prisoners of the early communist revolution (1900-1939) in Vietnam. As most of these patriotic exhibits were only in Vietnamese, we headed out to meet Ting (dutifully waiting as he charged by the hour) to take us to our next destination.

Meandering through the modern business district of Hanoi, we arrived at a very distinct and ancient complex, the Temple of Literature. I know, the name makes it sound like some ill-fated literacy campaign from elementary school, but the temple was actually Vietnam's first university, built in 1076. Inside the walls were beautiful gardens and pools, various pagodas, and dozens of turtle-shaped stellae dedicated to each mandarin who received a doctorate from the university.... oh and of course, the gift shop located in a 16th century terra cotta roofed pagoda (at least its not the Starbucks in Beijing's Forbidden City, I guess).

Ting then ignored our requests to end our tour, and insisted he take us to a great lunch spot. Intrigued by the prospect of what was promised to be a locals-only meal, we caved. To the contrary, we arrived at Indochine, a hang out for French expats. But to Ting's credit, it was fantastic.

Ting then finally relented, and took us back to the hotel (circuitously through the French Quarter) so that we could pick up our train tickets and luggage. We dragged our feet leaving the swanky hotel, loitering among several Chinese business people at the bar, where we collected our thoughts on the days to come and braced for the overnight train adventure we were about to embark upon.

We headed to the station early (totally unneccessary. This is Asia, everything turns into a churning mass of pushing). As we saw our fellow passengers, we wondered, half amused/half nervously, which two might be in our sleeper car. After paying 50,000VND under coercion by uniformed men to have our luggage carried for us on a cart, we were at least gratified that the man in fatigues and red arm bands DID cut to the front of the line on our behalf pushing and swatting old ladies and children to show us our berth.

There we anxiously awaited our berthmates, hoping it wouldn't be the pee-smelling woman from the terminal, or a swine-flu victim. Foolishly, we entertained the thought that we may be the only ones in our cabin. A few minutes later, in walked a well-groomed Da Nang native with a well-appointed suitcase (sigh of relief), his valet carrying three gigantic plastic tarps full of unknown goods (negates sigh of relief). He grinned at us from above his patriotic t-shirt(American patriotic, that is....eagles, and stars and stripes) and began both exitedly/forcibly chatting us up.

After handing out sesame candies, reading Adam's book over his shoulder and asking reading comprehension questions (a great ordeal for Katie to watch) and telling us about the Vietnamese train engine business, his brother in Nebraska and a little about his country, our friend suddenly decided he was finished with us and abruptly nodded off. Adam and I checked our watches...there was still well over 12 hours left on the journey. Katie then quickly followed suit nodding off on Adam as he read in the already tiny bunk.

Despite these small quarters the gentle rocking and rhythmic clacking put us right to sleep...for the first five hours. It wasn't until Adam awoke to use the bathroom ( NOT recommended to come late to the party with a shared bathroom on an overnight train...in a third world country) that things took an usual turn. Upon opening the door, Adam encountered two young female train workers about to knock. Through a series of unintelligable statements and unsucessful pantomimes from all parties involved, one of the women finally just angrily pushed past Adam into our cabin. and climbed into the empty top bunk. Adam shrugged and headed to the bathroom. The second worker followed suit, not into Katie's unoccupied top bunk but also into the one with her coworker. When Adam returned to the cabin he did not at first realize the total number of adults in a 6.5 ft x 6.5 ft cabin had ballooned to five.

The remainder of the night's sleep was fitful and puncutated by the sounds of a possibly tuberculotic man violently hacking, snorting and spitting somewhere in our train car. Undoubtedly not helping his state, he was sure to take every opportunity to get off the train and smoke at each of its stops. Adam and Katie whispered to each other in the darkness and proclaimed to a higher power that they would happily take an additional two (or maybe even three) clean, quiet cabinmates in their already over croweded car, so long as to avoid all close contact with that man (and others like him).

At morning's first light we both awoke to excitedly take in our first glimpses of the Vietnamese countryside: rice paddies, red clay, sampans and all. We arrived in Hue 15 hr and 30 minutes later, 600 miles south (and below the DMZ) at 0800 this morning. This overnight train ride was the adventure we hoped (and thankfully not the one we feared). Exhausted but excited to see this new city we checked into the Camellia Hotel Hue.