Death By 10 Million Wheels

Vietnam conjures up images of things exotic, of conical hats and yokes, of silk and áo dài (Vietnam's national dress), of bloody wars and destruction, of temples and pagodas. What doesn't come to mind is getting run over so let's start with a few survival tips.

#1 - There are over 6 million people in Hanoi's metropolitan area and over 4 million motorbikes. It feels like the other way round, though, so it is important to never forget the main traffic rule in Vietnamese cities: there are no traffic rules; bikers can pretty much do whatever they want.

#2 - You, pedestrian, are at the bottom of the food chain. Pedestrian crossings are meaningless and sidewalks are not for you. They are parking lots for bikes so if you happen to be casually walking on a sidewalk and suddenly see a motorbike coming straight at you, do not despair. It is not a communist trying to slaughter you, capitalist pig. He/she just wants to claim the space you're unduly occupying.

#3 - The art of crossing streets: in Hanoi's Old Quarter, there are more than 50 streets and some 4 or 5 traffic lights which won't help you anyway because vehicles can run red lights at will (there are no traffic rules, remember?). So to cross a street, do like the locals and just go but do it slowly. Never, ever, run. It sounds counterintuitive but just remember that if you move slowly, bikers will have time to avoid hitting you. It will work and you'll feel like you've conquered Everest after you've done it the first time.

So now that you know how to survive, you can enjoy. The heart of Hanoi is its Old Quarter, a maze of narrow streets that make up one of the liveliest, busiest, most hectic places in Southeast Asia. The history of the quarter goes back to the 13th century when trade guilds established themselves in the area, each on a different street which was then named after the product sold in that street. The tradition continues to this day with each street specialized in a particular product but while most of the trades changed, the names didn't so you still find Sweet Potato Street, for instance. In a way, I like it because you still see romantic names like Sails Street or Brushes Street rather than Plastic Toys Street or Xmas Ornaments Made In China Street. Two streets are a must: P. Hàng Gai filled with stores selling silk clothes (some can be custom made) and P. Hàng Quat with numerous shops selling Buddhist wares.

Bordering the Old Quarter to the south is Hoan Kiem Lake, an oasis where you can get a break from the chaos of the Old Quarter. According to legend, in the mid-15th century, Heaven sent the Emperor a magic sword that he used to drive the Chinese out of Vietnam. One day after the war, he came across a golden turtle swimming in the lake who then grabbed the sword and disappeared in the waters to restore it to its divine owners. There were indeed turtles in the lake in the past but there is only one left now known as Cu Rua (Great Grandfather) who many Hanoians believe to be the legendary turtle or at least its direct descendant. You can catch this and other local lore at the Water Puppet Theatre on the northeastern corner of the lake. Water puppetry is an ancient art form that appeared in villages of the Red River Delta in northern Vietnam in the 11th century, using ponds and flooded rice paddies as stage. Nowadays, performances are held in a pool of water, with puppets controlled by puppeteers trained for a minimum of three years. Shows last almost one hour and are very dynamic, with puppets weighing up to 33 lbs (15 kg) gliding or bouncing through water. You won't see this in any other country so don't miss it!

Within driving distance of Hanoi is Halong Bay, one of Vietnam's crown jewels with over 1,600 limestone monoliths rising sharply out of the water. Translated as Bay of Descending Dragons, legend has it that when Vietnam was coming together as a country, the Vietnamese had to fight invaders. To help them, the gods sent dragons who began spitting out jewels and jade that turned into islands and formed a wall against invaders. After victory, the dragons decided to settle in the bay so when you look at the endless rows of karsts, you can actually picture the backs of countless dragons. And I must say, these dragons are smart...they chose a place where they wouldn't need to cross any street.

50 Shades Of Green

Picture mid-January in the northeastern US.It's so cold your face hurts, you wear so many layers that you look like the Michelin man, your skin tone is a ghostly pallor. I dare you not to think: why couldn't I be in a warm place? Warmth, of course, is relative and in those gelid and dark winter months, I often find myself thinking of California, particularly of San Francisco with its "balmy" 50°F (10°C) winters. Some complain that SF is the city of four seasons...every day. And while it's also true that summers tend to be on the cool side and fog is common, I think these are actually small prices to pay for 260 annual days of sunshine.

But it wasn't sun that attracted people to SF in the first place; it was gold. Discovered in the mid-1800's, it brought rapid population growth in a unique combination of fortune-seekers, sailors, immigrants and artists. And like any other mining town and port, SF had its share of permissiveness in bars and nightclubs that only grew after Prohibition: the "bohemian clubs" around the North Beach neighborhood became popular with marginalized groups (communists, anarchists, homosexuals among others), and the city's openness to all people and all lifestyles became widely known. As a result, SF is the most liberal place in the US nowadays. And perhaps because they are so open-minded, San Franciscans love novelty and the city is at the forefront of innovation: there are countless startups in the area, and locals are early adopters, often the first to get a look at new technology and apps.

Also on the US west coast but further north and not nearly as sunny is Seattle. On average, Seattle is overcast 220 days annually, and in some years the sun does not appear at all during winter months. Perhaps because the city gets so much grey, some inhabitants take it upon themselves to brighten up Seattle...by colorfully dyeing their hair. Lime green, anyone? But that's not the only way they try to brighten up the days, grey or not; music is another and there's a reason why Seattle was the birthplace of grunge in the late '80s/early 90's. Specially around Pike Place Market, there are a number of street musicians showcasing their talents. The good ones will catch your ears with the power of their voice or instrument alone; others less gifted will draw attention by playing guitar while hula-hooping and balancing a second guitar on their head. As the saying goes, if you can't dazzle with brilliance, baffle with bullshit.

Some say that the best of Seattle is coffee (and probably the reason they drink so much of it is to get a jolt in that grey weather) but I'll argue that the best of Seattle is the wild country around it, so lush because it rains constantly. Within a 3-hour drive, you can reach mountains, volcanoes, waterfalls, even a rain forest. I chose Mount Rainier National Park for a daytrip and confess that I was a bit wary as high mountains are finicky creatures that make their own weather and cloak themselves in clouds at will. I was very lucky, though; Mt. Rainier graced me with full view of its 14,411 feet (4,390m) and so did Seattle, with 4 sunny days out of 5. Unfortunately, five days were not enough to explore all I wanted in Seattle and surroundings. One place I regret missing is the Olympic Peninsula, where its Hoh Valley is said to contain the densest, wettest, greenest and most surreal temperate rain forest in the world with unimaginable shades of green. True? I may have to find out someday.

But the area is not just about flora; the fauna is also noteworthy, with orcas the most iconic in the Pacific Northwest. They are the best known and most studied orca population in the world, divided into three distinct groups: residents who live in the inland waters of Washington / British Columbia, and have been designated endangered; transients who move along the coast from Southeast Alaska all the way to Southern California; and offshore orcas who live in waters well beyond the coast. The largest of the dolphins and highly trainable, orcas were relentlessly kidnapped in the Pacific during the 1960s and early 1970s for aquariums and marine parks, with more than 1/3 of the resident population getting captured. Orcas in captivity have a much shorter lifespan (usually less than 25 years versus up to 90 in the wild), and even the largest tank in the world is less than 0.0001% the size of the smallest range of wild orcas. To learn more about orcas in captivity and how detrimental it is to them, watch the documentary Blackfish and next time you feel the urge to go to a marine park or anywhere animals are used for "entertainment", think of how your life would be if you had to spend it in a tiny enclosure.

Some Like It Soft

'Land of Enchantment' is a lofty nickname for a state. But New Mexico may well live up to it - its scenery is varied with landscapes ranging from aspen and snow-capped mountains standing over 13,000 ft (4,000 m) to wide, cacti-covered deserts. The state is one of the highest in the country with an average altitude of 5,700 ft (1,740 m), and the combination of high altitude and dry climate creates a light that has inspired artists such as Georgia O'Keefe and Ansel Adams. But there's more to New Mexico than its looks. The state also has one of the most diverse populations in the US with the highest percentage of Hispanics and the second-highest percentage of Native Americans, mostly Navajo and Pueblo peoples throughout 22 different communities. Unique indeed. So unique in fact that it is the only state with an official question: 'red or green?' They're not asking if you're a communist or an environmentalist; it's your choice of chile. If in doubt, pick Christmas and you'll get both.

Santa Fe, the state's capital, is one of my favorite cities in the US just because, as its nickname implies, it is The City Different (if you drive from Albuquerque, take Highway 14, the Turquoise Trail, instead of I-25. Much more scenic with some quirky towns along the way). The first difference you'll note is the architecture - the low, earth-colored, Pueblo-style adobe buildings with their natural materials and soft, rounded shapes seem an extension of the landscape. They are solid, with very thick walls, yet delicate and inviting, keeping you cool in summer and warm in winter as adobe stores and releases heat very slowly, a feature you'll enjoy immensely when it's 90°F (32°C) outside. The most popular adobe structures in the area are in the Taos Pueblo, 1.5 hour from Santa Fe. Built between 1000 and 1450, it has been inhabited ever since, with 150 people living permanently in the Pueblo nowadays. Currently it also houses art shops where you can meet the artists and even catch them in action. When there, don't miss the fry bread, delicious with cinnamon.

Santa Fean celebrations are also different. On the 4th of July, for instance, besides traditional evening fireworks, the city also offers Pancakes On The Plaza. Now in its 38th year, the event attracts throngs from the city and beyond to the central square where for $7 (proceeds go to charity), you get a very filling pancake breakfast and get to chat with the locals. To burn some calories afterwards, walk over to Lincoln Ave to check cool vintage cars. Another very popular event is the Christmas Eve Farolito Walk on Canyon Road when small greased brown bags containing votive candles are placed along streets, adobe walls and even roofs, creating a path of warm yellow glow in the cold night. Those who have seen it say it's magical, an unforgettable celebration of the holiday spirit.

And then there's art - Santa Fe is the third largest arts market in the country, with nearly 300 galleries and dealers. The art core is Canyon Road, formerly a trail used by Pueblo Indians and now lined with over 100 galleries showcasing sculptures, paintings, photography, antiquities and much more. The most common work of art in the Santa Fe region is Native American pottery, found in almost every shop in town. My favorites are from the San Ildefonso Pueblo in black-on-black, and from the Ácoma Pueblo, thin walled pieces that feel like eggshells usually with an elaborate design on a white background.

In my view, art is what makes Santa Fe so unique and gives the city its soul. You can't help being inspired here...by the landscape, the soft shapes (both natural and man-made), the impressive works of art you marvel at on every corner. Santa Fe somehow turned the "time is money" motto so dominant elsewhere in the country into "time is art".

Seeing Red

May 20, 2013, a day that I’ll never forget just because…it never was. I went to sleep on the 19th and woke up on the 21st. It wasn't any alcohol or drug induced stupor...only a plane ride to Sydney. I didn't mind much; after all, I wish I could make every Monday disappear so painlessly.

Had I gone to Sydney some 200 years ago, I'd be going to prison. The city started out as a penal colony - in early 1788, the so-called 'First Fleet' landed at Sydney Cove (where ferries run from Circular Quay today) bringing seeds, animals, soldiers and 736 criminals from Britain. Over the next 80 years, some 165,000 convicts were brought to Australia but their ultimate fate might not be so dire: once they served out their sentence, they became free and were entitled to a 20-hectare grant of land.

Sydney today couldn't be further from its jailhouse days. Ranked as one of the top ten most livable cities in the world, Sydney is cosmopolitan, vibrant and home to one of the most iconic structures in the world – the Opera House. Conceived by Danish architect Jørn Utzon, its design mirrors the harbour on which it sits (though some locals jokingly say it looks more like the sexual congress of turtles): the shells covered in over one million off-white tiles mimic the white sails of the yachts on Sydney Harbour, and the glass walls of the foyers are angled so they can reflect the waters. It is a well thought-out, brilliant, groundbreaking design but so complex that it took years until the team figured out how to build the shells, required the use of computer-aided design (CAD) in structural analysis (one of first ever done), and opened the way for the elaborate shapes of some modern architecture. Brilliance has its price though: while initial projections placed costs at $7 million and construction completion in 3 years, it ultimately took 16 years and $102 million! Furthermore, controversy surrounded the project and resulted in Utzon's resignation in 1966, seven years before opening. He never returned to Sydney but was re-engaged in 1999 to develop guiding principles for all future changes to the building. He died in 2008 at age 90 and his son Jan, also an architect, has led renovation projects since then.

There is another well known icon in Australia, this one not man-made: Uluru, also known as Ayers Rock. Many say it is just a rock. While that may be true, it's one hell of a big rock - it is the world's biggest monolith with a total circumference of 5.8 miles (9.4 km) and while it rises only 1,142 ft (348 m) above ground, it is estimated to extend some 3.7 miles (6 km) underground. Just a rock, huh? But Uluru is more than just a rock in other ways. For the Anangu, the aboriginal people of the area, Uluru is a key element of Tjukurpa (Dreamtime), the sacred era when ancestral beings created the world and laid down laws for caring for one another and the land. The monolith is believed to have been created at the beginning of time, and virtually all its features are associated with a creation story. You can take the 6.6-mile (10.6 km) walk around the base of Uluru to see its geological features and learn the related stories. Photography is prohibited in some sections though as they contain 'scriptures' not meant to be disseminated. Also, the Anangu request that you don't climb the Rock. People still do but the truth is that doing so is comparable to climbing the altar of a Christian church.

Like Uluru is not just a rock, the outback is not just a desert. The term is usually associated with the red center of Australia, but in reality is used loosely to describe empty, vast and remote inland areas, and it is these qualities that make it so attractive. While the outback is increasingly drawing tourists and lodgings spring up here and there, there are still areas with no cell phone reception or electricity where kangaroos, wild horses and camels outnumber people, where you can sleep in open air looking at a sky so clear you discover stars you never thought existed, where the howls of dingoes lull you to sleep. Does the word dingo give you chills? I don’t think they can take your baby…they are too small for that. But they may take your shoes. Just like any other mischievous dog.

Into Pieces

It was a grey winter day in early 1989. I was on a 30+-hour train ride (those only the young and penniless take) from Vienna to Athens and at about 2 am, we reached Yugoslavia. The border officer told me that I needed a visa even though I was only in transit so I got the undecipherable stamp on my passport. I could, however, make out 2 dates: Jan. 29, 1989 and Feb. 6, 1989. In Athens, I happened to come across the Yugoslavian embassy so I went in and asked if I'd need another visa on the way back since the one I had appeared to be valid until the 6th. "You're fine", I was told. On my way back to Western Europe in the afternoon of February 4, the Yugoslavian border officer told me that I needed a visa so I showed him the stamp from the week before. "No good, you need visa". "Wait, your embassy in Athens told me I could use this one to go back". "You need visa!" For $5, I didn't think it was worth the argument, so I got another stamp, all the time thinking "Can't these people get their act together?"

No, they wouldn't be able to keep it together. I didn't know at the time but tensions were already brewing in Yugoslavia, a federation that encompassed 6 republics and 2 autonomous provinces. After the fall of communism, ethnic tensions that had grown throughout the 80's rose even more, stoked by a stark contrast between the Serbian goal of more centralization and the other republics' desire for greater autonomy. As republics proclaimed their independence, ethnic Serbs who lived within their borders and wanted to remain with the Yugoslav federation initiated armed resistance with the aid of the Yugoslav People's Army. Nowhere was the conflict bloodier than in Bosnia & Herzegovina, a country that housed 3 ethnicities: Bosniaks, Croats and Serbs. The latter placed Sarajevo under siege from April 1992 to February 1996, the longest of a capital city in modern history, ending with over 11,000 civilians killed and 56,000 wounded.

The end of the war came with the Dayton Agreement that created a unique government system of two entities, each with roughly half the country’s territory and its own constitution: the Federation of Bosnia & Herzegovina controlled by Bosniaks and Croats, and the Serb Republic. Presidency of the country has 3 members (one Bosniak, one Croat and one Serb) elected for a 4-year term, one of whom is the chairman and head of state. Chairmanship is rotated among the 3 members every 8 months.

I confess that I was a bit apprehensive as the plane neared Sarajevo. Not for any security concern – Sarajevo is as safe as any other European capital -, but I wondered what I was going to find in a place that suffered so much physical and psychological damage a couple decades ago. It had snowed the night before I arrived so the white blanket made the city look peaceful. Scars from the war, however, are still seen everywhere: new graveyards, bullet-riddled or crumbling buildings especially on the stretch of road around the Holiday Inn known as sniper alley during the war. Despite that, Sarajevo is a city that makes you feel at ease very soon: not too big, uncrowded, easily navigable, friendly people. The best part of Sarajevo is undoubtedly Baščaršija (pronounced Bash-charshiya), the bazaar in the heart of the old town filled with small shops where you can catch artisans at work, particularly in the metal engraving area. After the end of the conflict, artisans started using war objects as raw materials and you can find odd souvenirs such as fruit baskets made of army helmets or pens made of bullet shells. Shopkeepers are not pushy so you can browse comfortably.

Radiating from Baščaršija, the Ottoman influence fades and the hand of the Austro-Hungarian empire becomes evident as streets widen and classical-style buildings appear. Sarajevo’s architecture in fact reflects the country’s history as the boundary between the Islamic and Christian worlds: it is a blend of Ottoman and classical with a dash of communist concrete and a growing post-war contemporary element. Varied and visually interesting.

A short flight from Sarajevo is Belgrade (really short…25 minutes). Capital of Serbia and another major player in the Yugoslavian independence wars, Belgrade has had its share of destruction: it was battled over in 115 wars and destroyed over 40 times, the last during WWII. As a result, the center of Belgrade reflects its more recent past, a mix of grandiose neoclassical buildings and Soviet-style concrete. And even though the city was bombed by NATO during the 1990’s independence wars, the attacks were directed at specific targets and didn’t cause widespread devastation, something that locals seem to appreciate in a twisted way.

But more than history and architecture, it was the people who made me wonder. In both countries, they were friendly, warm and seemed genuinely interested in making me feel welcome. Yet I couldn't help but think that, should there be another war, many of those same people wouldn't hesitate to kill another person even if the only reason was a divergence of opinion/ideas. Of course this is not exclusive to Bosnians and Serbs; it happens everywhere in the world. Strange creatures, we humans.