Day 1: Seattle to Hanoi March 29, March 30

I am still astounded at how jet travel can so quickly transform your life. After investing some 20 hours or so on airplanes and in airports, you find yourself in a completely new land. This is my third trip to Vietnam and this time it all launches in the north via Hanoi. The city I refer to as the aloof older sister of Saigon is rapidly changing. More new buildings, factories, billboards, and scooters!

Crossing the huge Red River, we can see that commerce is alive and well here. Residents are apparently used to seeing foreigners invade their city and don't seem to mind. They seem more welcoming. People smile and wave as you pass them on the street. Standing on the veranda of the hotel, I breathe in the humid air and colorful sights. Tufts of cotton from the trees drift lazily down onto the scene. I love it here.

I am especially thrilled to have my youngest daughter with me this time. Marah is 15 and has been to Thailand but is as excited as I am about this trip. On the bus ride into town, she is quiet, looking out the window. At one point she says, "My heart is exploding." I wasn't sure if that was referring to jet lag or hunger or what, so ask for a translation. She says she is so happy she cannot stand it! I smile inwardly.

After washing off all the long miles with a refreshing shower, we are ready to hit the streets. It's Sunday and people are in a festive mood. Motorcycles laden with families of 3 and four zip by, the shops are buzzing, and the hazy weather cannot dampen the excitement. Our entire group hits the road in individual cyclos, my favorite mode of transport in Vietnam. Cyclos feature a padded seat mounted onto the front of a bicycle which is pedaled slowly about the city by a flip-flop-wearing driver. Cyclos may one day be a thing of the past since I have been told the government wants to rid Vietnam of cyclos because they are slow and don't look very "progressive." I am delighted to see they still exist! Gently and calmly, we wind our way through the chaos of the city.

Eventually we end up in a place I dream of often: the Old Quarter. It is a vibrant, kaleidoscopic maze of crumbling structures and shops. The Old City dates back to the 15th century and is remarkably intact. French architectural influences are everywhere--gables, ornate wrought iron balconies, balustrades, leuvered doors, etc. It reeks with charm. Down on the ground, though, it is pure Vietnam. The neighborhood features 36 short lanes, each specializing in the same thing! You can browse for ancient crafts such as lacquerware or banners or even grave markers. You can get impossibly lost here, even with a map, and that's the fun of it!

I cannot stop taking pictures. As much as I want to take in everything around me, my favorite site is my daughter Marah's face--jaw hanging open! I'm getting the idea this is all too overwhelming for her. At dinner, her face ends up in her pho, and I can barely get her back to the hotel. Marah crawls straight into bed, clothes and all, and is instantly out. What will tomorrow bring?

Marah's turn: I'm so hyped to finally be in Vietnam, it seems like I've been waiting to get here forever. The plane ride is long, and not as unbearable as I expected it to be; however it seems like a lifetime ago that I was at home preparing to leave. After a layover in Taipei and one last plane, we arrive in Hanoi. On the bus ride in, I felt extremely overwhelmed, in a good way. All the sights and the smells are so exciting and new to me. After checking in at our glorious 5-star hotel in the heart of the city, Son Michael tells us we'll be riding on cyclos for a city tour. The traffic in Vietnam is absolute chaos, the trucks, buses, motorcycles and taxis all come close to collision constantly. There are no rules, and being on the front of a tiny bicycle, completely vulnerable amidst the continuous honking and weaving of the traffic, is quite a rush.

The weather is damp and overcast as we weave through the crowded streets, my brain is in overdrive. I've been hearing about these sights for practically my entire life, but seeing them first hand is a whole different experience. As the ride goes on I find the cyclo to be somewhat frustrating, I want to get out and play on the streets, not simply drive past them! All in all, the ride was a perfect way to see the whole city, including the wonderful Old Quarter, in a short period of time.

After the group returned from the tour, we were scheduled to go out to dinner at a nice restaurant downtown. Upon the arrival at the restaurant, everybody is jetlagged, and I am beyond tired. I don't remember much...I was in a complete daze. I'm sure I fell asleep a couple times, and I wasn't able to eat; I was sincerely too wiped out to even imagine lifting a pair of chopsticks to my mouth. My mother finally realized my state of unconsciousness and we and half of the group went home. Barely making it up to our room, I climbed straight into bed, barely stopping to take off my shoes. I didn't wake back up for 12 hours.