Southeast Asia

Part 1 – Taipei and Hanoi

I began this missive a dozen times since my departure but my days have been so full there’s been no time to write. I scribbled the first words at the beginning of the 16+hour flight on Cathay Pacific to Taipei, my first business class flight ever, while stretched out like a queen on a comfortable divan, with a glass of champagne, a bowl of warm almonds, a big screen TV and two, or three great Chinese meals. I found time to nap, allow my glass to be refilled several times, and watch four movies- but not to write. The business class experience has spoiled me forever, but at my age that’s not such a long time.

I picked up my journal again in Taipei where I attended the 29^th. Asian Composers League Festival. Here I was treated to five days of non-stop live music , between 1:30 in the afternoon until 9:30 at night; works by a select group of eminent composers from Australia, New Zealand, Singapore, Malaysia, Turkey, Israel, Indonesia, Japan, and Korea, performed in the gorgeous National Concert Hall of Taipei, by the finest musicians of the country. As if that wasn’t enough, I got to meet and talk with the composers over long, leisurely buffet breakfasts in the hotel dining room each morning. It was a joyful experience as well as a great privilege, but left me no time to write.

Next stop, Hanoi, where I rendezvous with my friend Patricia, from France, who’s joining me on this long-planned, seven-week Southeast Asian adventure. Another Franco American invasion!

For four glorious days we walked around different neighborhoods of Hanoi, mostly in the old quarter, looking in boutiques with beautiful goods and clothing, visiting crowded street markets, gobbling ubiquitous noodle soup, munching flavorful grilled beef and vegetables and spicy spring rolls at street stalls, and dining in a couple of fine restaurants where Vietnamese and French cuisines are combined with masterly skill. We visited a few recommended tourist sites and spent a lot of time sitting in cafes watching the world go by.

Hanoi is an unending river of motorcycles that somehow manage not to run you over as you cross the street. People are warm and friendly, quick to smile and help us out, but I carry a heavy albatross of guilt with me and, when asked, am ashamed to admit I’m American. I gaze at beautiful smiling faces of men, women, children and especially old people, and think about the unforgivable things we did to them and their country. I can’t get it out of my mind. Yet, as far as I can see, they hold no grudge. As one of our guides said, “That was the past. Now we move on.”

Our last night in Hanoi we went to a rock concert featuring rock bands from Tokyo commemorating the recent disaster. The hall was filled with thousands of enthusiastic people. A young Vietnamese girl offered me some fruit. We danced in place and smiled in recognition of each other. Peace and unity is the feeling I get as the crowd gyrates wildly to the intense music. Rock and roll joins us together. Then why do we need to make war?