Hồ Hoàn Kiếm - Lake of the Returned Sword

Hồ Hoàn Kiếm, also known as Hồ Gươm, or Sword Lake

 
A brief legend of history:

At this lake in Hanoi's historic center, the gods handed emperor Lê Lợi a sword that he wielded to expel the Chinese from Vietnam in the 15th century C.E. With sovereignty restored, Lê Lợi went back to the lake and returned the sword to the gods. There was a turtle involved.

Morning martial arts

In the present, the lake is a morning spectacle. Martial artists with swords and staves pantomime fights with invisible opponents, with complex choreographed steps. Old timers tip-toe at the water's edge, face the water, and slap their bodies with open palms from head to foot. Walkers and joggers make laps around the lake as the sunrise lights up the green water. People welcome the morning with exercise. Everywhere you look, they stretch, do pull-ups, hang from posts, wave their arms. Hardly any of them are younger than forty. Most of them are at or beyond the age of retirement. But growing old does not mean slowing down for them.

At night, the lake glows with blue, red, green, and yellow lanterns. The surrounding buildings are brilliantly lit as well. And the lake captures all the light, reflects it, and doubles the festive appearance. Around the lake, couples spoon on concrete benches, hawkers peddle fried dough, and bats flit in the lamplight for dinner on the wing.

Lake Hoàn Kiếm is lovely. It's not without a dark side. Foul street runoff, litter, and acid rain threatens to destroy the very symbol of Vietnam's independence. Giant softshell turtles that once thrived in the lake are now nearly extinct, despite attempts to breed them in captivity.

The pagoda on the lake's island is called Tortoise Tower. It's named for the god of legend--a turtle--that lent the emperor the sword that liberated Vietnam. It seems the turtle is an important figure to Vietnam's cultural identity, and it would be a shame if the species in this lake disappeared forever--not just for the turtle's sake, or for the balance of the lake's ecology, but for the pride of the Vietnamese. Today, the people who come down to the lake for their morning exercise or evening festivities seem to believe that turtles still paddle about in the green water. I hope they are always right.

Saigon Funnies

Open Late
They sure don't close early.

 

Electricians
The wires are a cobweb, but I'm not sure if the people are like the spiders, or the flies.

 

Offensive Cream
The fact that it probably reeks of menthol would explain the name.

 

Press
The button to flush this toilet is the size of the lid itself.

 

"Pork" Bun
It's so cute. I want to eat it, but I don't.

 

Bún Thịt Nướng

We had just pulled up plastic stools to the folding metal table. The lady who ran the place assembled our orders of bún thịt nướng. She set out green plastic soup bowls, lined the bottoms with handfuls of cripsy lettuce and fragrant basil, dropped heaping mounds of white, tender vermicelli noodles on top, then sprinkled pinches of green onion, toasted peanuts, and smoky grilled beef over the lot.

The lady who made our food was a serious sort who had had short hair, dyed to a black hue she might have had when she was 30 years younger. When she put the bowls in front of us, I was ready to make short work of it. Bún is ome of my favorite foods.

The way to eat bún is this. Pour a bowlful of garlicy-spicy-salty-sour nước mắm over the the pile. Mix the noodles, greens and meat like a tossed salad to coat with the sauce. Direct big bite-sized pinches towards mouth. Repeat.

I have on occasion seen people hold a chopstick in either hand when tossing a bowl of bún or other mixed foods. This way makes sense, because two utensils are quick to toss up a salad. So I decided to give the two-handed technique a whirl.

The lady who ran the place saw me with one chopstick in either hand. She pointed at my hands and asked a sharp question. Lu responded brightly, laughed a little, and told me the lady had asked if I knew how to use chopsticks.

This misunderstanding amused me. Feeling little devilish, I brought one of the chopsticks closeer to my eyes and scrutinized it, as if trying to find the power button.

The lady barked again. Lữ answered, almost apologetically, and the lady muttered something as she walked away. I looked up from my bowl, which I had been mixing with chopsticks in one hand, the proper way, I suppose. Lữ relayed the conversation.

"She said, are you sure he knows how to use those? I said yes, he does, he's just playing.

"And she said, if he's playing, I'm going to pull his ear."

An American idiom for fooling around is to pull someone's leg. For pulling the shopkeeper's leg, I nearly got my ear pulled in return. I guess that's only fair.