Xin Chao from Hanoi!

The moment that I set foot on Vietnamese soil, I immediately began wondering how I could possibly extend my contract here as the "Vietnam Liaison Officer" with the Federation of Canadian Municipalities (FCM) and the Association of Cities in Vietnam (ACVN).

On the approach in the plane from the air, Vietnam revealed herself to me through the clouds - a very exotic looking country with lush deltas and small rivers snaking through green, fertile countrysides. Approaching Hanoi, my curiosity was further peaked with the appearance of zooming motorbikes (called xe om) on dense networks of tiny streets flanked by tall five to six story buildings painted in brilliant colours. Everybody appeared to be in a rush to somewhere important and every building had a personality. Upon deplaning, even though I've experienced this before in Central America and East Africa, the heat and humidity surprised me and greeted me like an invisible wall. At the immigration line, the officials were harmless, but their military uniforms were nonetheless quite intimidating.

Thuy (pronounced 'Twee'), my colleague at the ACVN, met me at the airport and presented me with a very large bouquet of lovely fresh flowers. Then, we were whisked away in a waiting taxi to my hotel in the Ancient Quarter, where all of the action is located. For 24 days, I stayed at the "Sports Hotel" (where I never played any sports - except for dodging several breakfast invitations from a lovesick but sweet and well meaning front desk clerk - if this in fact is considered a "sport").

The Sports Hotel is located on Hang Bac street. Each street in the Ancient Quarter is named after a particular specialty (ex: Hang Gai is 'Silk Street', Hang Giay is "Paper or Shoe Street', and so on and so forth). In particular, Hang Bac means 'Silver Street' - where you can have rings, earrings and jewelry made. All of the jewelry that I own is silver, so I thought this was quite fortuitous, or tempting, whatever your take is on that one.

Thuy and I made chit chat on the way into town, and I found out that she was only 26, married, and the mother of a young child. She patiently answered all of my geeky urban planning questions in perfect English, pointing out the new gated community on the periphery of town (called the "International Village", financed with foreign investment), in addition to explaining the lack of public transporation, and the growing state of urban development of Hanoi.

After watching a very tall, thin man and a very short, larger man huff and puff and grunt as they hoisted my over-packed suitcases (hey, a girl needs her shoes!) up 4 flights of narrow stairs at the very comfortable guesthouse (there was no elevator), Thuy took me to change some dollars (hurrah for the almighty Canadian Loonie!) for Vietnamese Dong. First, though, we had to cross the street - my first lesson for successful living in beautiful Hanoi.