Water Puppets and Away From the Tourists

Hey, everybody.

Another weekend of walking….about 17 miles…mainly alone, which can make things much easier.

The main event Saturday was a trip to see the Thang Long Water Puppet Theatre, considered a national treasure.  I am not sure why.  The performance was…there…but not anything I would recommend.  The worst part is that the theatre is old, and the seats are built for people averaging about 4 ft. 6.  And in the seat next to me was a sumo-type from Thailand.  But the show is only about 45 minutes, consisting of 11 vignettes:

• festival drumming
• dragon dance
• prelude by the buffoon Teu
• buffalo fighting
• farm work
• village guardian god procession
• van singing
• horse race
• Quan ho singing
• Coconut picking
• Carp transformed into dragon

It would probably be fascinating to see backstage, as the puppets emerge from a bamboo curtain onto an indoor pool.  Once in a while one could see the rods by which people behind the curtain move the puppets.  Supposedly they require 3 years of training before being allowed to work a show.  But, for only $3, I cannot complain.

In the evening I joined the usual crew to hit a local restaurant a block away – fixed price menu at $20, $22, or $25.  We chose the midrange, which brought 11 courses to the table, including white asparagus & clam soup, fried squid, mango salad, poached fish, coconut ice cream, and green tea.  A nice sampling of local dishes.

After dinner we wandered to a jazz club about another block away.  Only stayed for one set…for some reason, the singers in bands here only do about 3 songs per set.  So, that one was not worth going back to, as the players were rather wooden in their efforts. 

Sunday dawned warm and brilliant, so it was time to avoid the damn tourists and explore a new section of Hanoi.  I headed northwest from here, seeking and walking across the Cau Long Bien (Long Bridge) crossing the Red River.  Those of you in my age bracket might remember that we millions trying to bomb this bridge out of existence in the 60s and early 70s, to no avail.  Apparently, though, no maintenance has been done on it since.

The bridge is just over a mile long, and constructed primarily of rust with a few cobwebs to hold everything together.  Crossing on foot is not for the faint-of-heart, especially since the guard railings were no higher than my knees in places.   It has seven “lanes”…a train track down the middle, two asphalt lanes in each direction for bikes and scooters (cars and trucks must use a more modern bridge 1 km. to the north), and a metre-wide cement pedestrian path on each side.  Scooter drivers were somewhat more polite on the bridge than on typical Hanoi streets, especially since many bike riders got off and pushed on the ascending sections.

But, crossing the bridge took me to the Song Hong district, a lower-income retail and residential district about 3 km. and 30 years from my hotel.  Very serene, save for the construction site of a new building.  It definitely gave me a look at a different aspect of Hanoi.  From the time I set foot on the bridge until I returned to the same spot, about 3 hours later, I did not see another non-Viet person.  I seemed to be quite a curiosity to the kiddies.

And that was it for this weekend.  I shall head out to lunch/dinner shortly, but seek and expect nothing spectacular.  More updates in a few days.  And I am more than halfway through this trip…leaving early on the 14th.

Photos of the weekend, and a video of me crossing the street while holding the camera at my chest, can be found at: https://picasaweb.google.com/110414898143254307072/October22011