Hanoi: It's Complicated

Why did I like Hanoi?

It wasn't my interactions with the locals- overall they're brusque at best and downright rude at worst, and tried (and probably often succeeded) to scam me at every turn.

It wasn't the weather- it was stiflingly hot and rained cats and dogs for hours in the afternoon almost every day I was there. It became my habit to duck into the most charming cafe in Hanoi, La Place, where the second floor dining room looked out onto St. Joseph's Cathedral from the sidestreet of Pho Au Trieu.

Aside from the lime-mint smoothies at La Place, what did I like about Hanoi? Maybe it was the architecture, a crowded mix of obviously Asian and subtley European.

Maybe it was the blossoms growing in riotous colorful clouds down every street.

Or the coffee shop right around the corner from my hostel that served nothing except for velvety, almost chocolaty Vietnamese coffee and had a small white and tan dog that was always curled on one of the glass tabletops.

Or the songbirds twittering from their cages outside almost every shop and cafe (although they were just as likely to make me sad as charm me), their short songs competing with the strident blaring of motorbike horns.

Or little details, like confused tiles overlaid in an open door into a dark entryway, or arched windows with green shutters opened to dry clothes hung inside.

But I think it was probably what charms me about every city: lives being lived all around that I can't even begin to fathom.

And here, much more of it is done out in the open. Watching it happen is fascinating.

Plus there's the added layer of cultural differences. Why is this woman lighting and fanning a fire on a busy street? I have no idea. 

Besides, how can you not love a city where this is happening?