Long walk

I continue wandering and exploring all the nuances of Ha Noi.

It's delightful to explore distant alleys where people gather on sidewalks to eat white noodles, spring rolls, fresh greens and drink green tea.

Life on the street is filled with 1,001 motorcycles, hawkers of red star hats, t-shirts, bags, paintings, silk, traditional medicines, shoes, bamboo baskets, silver and twisted lanes filled with aroma and mystery. Designs of family realities, relationship blues.

Wear and tear, shed a travel tear, your heart all this shimmering noddle passion, a broth of conversation's hunger.

A street hawker said. "If you don't buy my cheap cotton hat with a red star, or a cheap wooden bracelet made by astranger, then the next time I see you while I am walking hot Ha Noi streets trying to make a living, then I won't know you. My eyes will be dark and lost in their future. I won't remember you. Ever.

"I will continue to walk. All day. In the heat. No water. No rest. To walk, to meet tourists. No pity. This is my social and economic reality."

Metta.

Wandering

How does it feel in hot, humid, steamy Hanoi? Delightful.

It's the poetry of the street. Diversity of life's energy. Fascinating documentary of modern tribal realities. Blond backpackers wear rubber flip-flops. Hard going through the mud and meadows of reality. Influences and migration.

Ha Noi Handicrafts is a fine place with friendly people. Feel free to see their site: 

I am Anon-o-mouse. Enjoy fresh tea near the lake at dusk. Dancing yellow lights. Fish are jumping.

Massage away your tension, anxiety, fear. Practice sitting and walking and breathing like a monk. Calm, serene and spine. This is a quiet simple dignity.

Metta.

Travel Monk

From the Temple of Literature to temples, art, the street. Delightful. Get a manicure and a facial after a day of exploring. Circumvent the planet with clean skin. Peal it all off. Shed old memories, dreams and potentials.

West lake - Ho Tay or Lake Mist or Big Lake. Legend: in the 11th century a Vietnamese Buddhist monk provided a great service to emperor of China. He received bronze, made a huge bell, rang the bell and a Golden Buffalo Calf in China, thinking it was his mother ran south and trampled the site turning it into a lake.

The Pho Lin pagoda is on a estuary on the northern shore in an area called Quan Thanh. It was recommended to me by Tran, the manager at Just Massage where I enjoyed a 90 minute shiatsu workout.

Pristine. No traffic. Water. Dragons. Lovely murals. Female monks sweep leaves. Burial chambers in shade.

Museum of History has a small petri dish filled with carbonized rice. Hunters and gatherers sweep in from southern China. Humans live in caves. Discover fire. Make stone bladed tools. Weave bamboo clothing. Use clay to make pottery.

Metta.

Temple of Literature

Sitting down in Hanoi. Before dawn Hoan Kiem Lake is tranquil.

Hundreds of residents walk the circumference, practice tai-chi, stretch, meditate, lift weights, play badminton, read morning papers, chat with friends, and relax. Women spin red fans as their teacher watches, instructing them in movement. Dance.

The Jade Mountain Temple sits on an island in the lake accessible by a narrow red bridge. Turtle Tower stands on a small island in the center of the lake. Orange light dances off the surface.

I walk to the Temple of Literature. Founded in 1070 as a Confucian temple and established at the first university or Imperial Academy in Vietnam in 1076.

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Metta.

Joy

Greetings,

A simple joy is being in Hanoi savoring delicious Chinese tea.

I am liberated from tolerating the tyranny at a private Catholic school in Jakarta. I completed my penance. A beautiful universe.

It feels fantastic to be back in the University of the Street. So it goes.

Metta.