Lost generation of Hue

March 2016 in Hue, Vietnam

Wherever I go I always bring a pen and a pad with me so I can make a note of my impressions and observations just as/when they happen and whether it is a keyword or full ‘ready to go’ sentence, I write it down, to keep my memory à jour. In the evenings I get it all into the computer so by the time I am ready to leave destination in question my post is ready to for publishing, well, almost.

This is not how it went in Hue (and places that followed). I am already in Cambodia, after having visited both Saigon and Mekong Delta, and still haven’t even started on my Hue post. Mental block for sure … for in Hue I was about to lose it.

So let’s get it over with so I can move on … it all started so well.

Even though I skipped Hue on my way South, the life took another course. I couldn’t get out of Hoi An without going back to Da Nang and since I had to go back North anyhow, why not travel a little further and visit Hue (after all). So I took a train from Da Nang to Hue instead of Nha Trang which was my planned destination.

At first sight, Hue made a very nice impression on me. Already on my way from the train station to the hotel, I was inspired by all the sculptures what I saw and wrote the blog – in my head. What an interesting place, how should I title it? They were so many options: Art city? Sculpture city? Riverbank? Party town? Not to mention the number one attraction – The Imperial City, a.k.a. the Citadel. Little that I knew .. this was the least of my problem.

Hue is all the above and more. But first, at least for me, Hue is the town of hawkers and there is no sculpture/riverbank/party in the world that can diminish the hawkers’ rule.

It is not as I wasn’t ready. “I read all about it“. Vietnam is infamous for its hawkers. And quite frankly I didn’t think it was too bad at first, in fact, I found it rather manageable. Until Hue, that is.

I could not manage hawkers of Hue. Their never-ending calls felt like an invasion of my personal space. Their arrogance and unfriendly attitude made my body cringe. Their hash and unpleasant tone of voice made me sick to my stomach. How many times a minute can you politely reply ‘No, thank you‘ to an arrogant and unfriendly call ‘Hey you …. ‘ and keep your sanity intact? 10? 20? “Hey, you“????

Ignoring them doesn’t work. They demand response. They will keep on yelling, each yell will be louder and harsher until you respond. If you happen to run into a bunch of them, they will all yell at you, one after another – in case you have changed your mind during the millisecond it takes to sneak by one and confront the next one.

Being constantly called upon by hawkers the second you enter the street gets to you bad. Add to that the calls of taxi/motorbike/cyclo drivers and before you even know it you are on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Rock bottom? Not quite.  Things can still get worse.

On my way to the Citadel, the two of them jumped off their scooter in the middle of a very busy bridge where you even may not stop and literally attacked me, yelling and screaming and pulling on my clothes. At first, I became very concerned thinking something must have happened. Silly me. Nothing happened. All they wanted was to push on me some of their merchandise. What a nerve. That incident outraged me beyond belief and right then, in the middle of that bridge, my system said ‘no more’. From then on I locked myself in my shell, built a wall around me and treated them as thin air. No reaction on my part.  They became invisible, and they hated it. But I loved it. Oh, how I loved it. Yes, I am not ashamed to admit they brought the worst out in me.

When I got to the Citadel, I was so looking forward to a walk in the sanctuary free of hawkers. I needed time off and was in a hurry to get in. Stop – not so fast. The ticket guy stopped me and directed me to another ticket booth on the other side of the gate. He was selling tickets to locals only, at a lower price, and I needed to buy the more expensive one – for foreigners, 30 meters away.

Another booth. Another cue. Wrong day. It was the last drop. I told him what I thought of this policy and left.

Institutionalizing dual pricing is imho below one country’s dignity. No wonder the same practice is being executed by vendors. We are not talking here about big money. It is the principle. I’d rather give that money (and more) to people who need it than help the few rich getting richer. But it wasn’t even the dual pricing that got to me but the two separate cues on either side of the entrance, one for locals and one for foreigners. It is nothing short of apartheid, pure racism and I have no intention to be a part of that. Then and there I decided to cut my Vietnam visit short.

In my bid to avoid spending the last day locked up in the hotel room I rented a bike and went to explore beaches of Hue that were some (as I was told) 12 kilometers away with zero tourists and hopefully no hawkers. As it turned out the beach was twenty-something kilometers away, and I did hear occasional yell but it wasn’t too bad.

My inspiration was the map to the right. I envisioned biking on a small country road between the sea and the river/lake/ or whatever body of water it may be. It wasn’t just a silly dream. I saw the exact scenario from the train and was hoping for the same. Imagine what a fantastic experience it must bike between the two bodies of water.

Unfortunately that ‘country road’ was a few kilometers wide stretch of land or rather rice fields and the sea was nowhere to be seen. There were times I was about to give up thinking I would never reach the sea before the night. It is too far. But I kept on biking.

Eventually, I got there. Almost. For there was a huge, steep dune along the coast separating the sea from the ‘rest of the world’ thus making it invisible from the road. I hesitated. Do I really want to climb that? I did. Once on the top of the dune, I took a long look and few shots. Then I began walking down .. not to the sea but back to my bike.

So, did I make it or didn’t I? What I made for sure was at least 55 kilometers biking. Not too bad for ‘an older lady’ like myself.

“Every cloud has a silver lining.” And so does Hue. The Hue’s silver lining is its youth. The new generation that will soon be in charge of the city seems to see things differently from their parents. They study English every chance they get. They sense it is not all right to have dinner interrupted countless times by hawkers and try to keep restaurant patios off limit for them. They even speak differently. Their voices are friendly and soft. They appear genuinely interested and helpful without alternative motives. There is hope then? There is.  Give it 10 years.

 

Citadel – from the outside

 

 

The beach – bike ride

 

 

Riverbank and its sculptures