Our Man in Hanoi

v noisy

Marvin beat me to it.

I was just about to write about noise.  Your world revolves around noise here.

I was at a friends last night who, like Martin, has a dog next door that barks constantly.

My friends are environmental volunteers, animal lovers and vegetarians but they are starting to hate that dog.  Although not as much as the bloke who keeps it in a tiny cage day and night.

This weekend, I escaped the noise of Hanoi.  It's widely accepted expat knowledge that you have to occasionally or you'll go nuts. 

So I got out to V Resort.  It's a hotel, set in beautiful grounds at the foothills of the mountains in Hoa Binh. A huge pool, nice breezes, beautiful views.  It's very much a Vietnamese resort and that's cool, but something to bear in mind if you are a westerner.

Because, despite its isolation, wildly over amplified karaoke tends to blare out in the evenings.  Not entirely unpleasant and the decibels, at least from a safe distance, are still less than the usual Hanoi assorted cacophony.

In fact, we sat by the pool with drinks on the Saturday night and said"Ahhhh perfect peace".

Then we listed again and said:

"Well, except for the karaoke."

"...and the hotel extension building work."

"...and the screaming kids"

Etc etc.

The point being, that we had both been here so long that it seemed quite quiet in comparison.

On the Sunday, before checkout, we were catching a last couple of hours' pool time.

Then a works trip caught up with us.  Half the pool (not the two foot deep kids area, the proper swimming bit) was roped off.  Then 20 or 30 people in multi coloured head scarves denoting teams arrived.

All were shrieking, screaming and talking loudly at 100mph.  Worse, a guy with a megaphone arrived. 

There is something about amplifying voices here.  From what I have seen the lowliest, poorest, schools own, or at least regularly rent, impressive amplification equipment.  People who I work with, who haven't a clue how to use, say, a computer, know how to plug in, switch on, mix and amplify a microphone.

Stick a mic in the hand of an average westerner and he'll tap it nervously and look a little daunted.  Not here.

The guy poolside at V Resort, was using the megaphone to talk to people two feet away.  He was using it to carry out normal conversations.  And whenever he wanted wider attention, he sounded an ear splitting siren.

While I really didn't want to be the western wimp, I decided to go and, as respectfully as I could, speak to reception.  My pool had been taken, and any chance of just quietly reading my book was also gone.

As ever, the desk staff were so sweet, attentive as ever, incredibly friendly and honestly tried to be so helpful. But I couldn't for the life of me make her understand why it was an issue with me.

I told her I had spent a not inconsiderable sum in order to escape the Hanoi noise and to relax in peace and quiet.

By way of explanation she reminded me that there was so many of them and only one of me.

She told me that it would only be for two hours.

Two hours?  Arrrrrrgggh.

And as sympathetic as she tried her hardest to be, you could see that she didn't really understand my problem.

That is the way of the noise thing here.  I remember bouncing off the walls at work when there had been drilling next door all day.  I asked a colleague if it was making them nuts too and they said: "What noise?"

Strange, I just realised as i was writing this I can still hear building work.  I hadn't noticed it before. Now it's bugging me.

Neighbour's kids will play shoutey games at 6am and late into the night.  People in cafes will slowly work through every ring tone on their phone at the next table to you.  Then they'll check them all again or invite their friends to join in the cell phone jam session.

Or you'll trek to a tranquil beauty spot only to be joined by a group of people who will play Vina pop from their tiny MP3.  Tinny disco beats played by even tinnier speakers.  If the speakers are bust and vibrating then you will be the only one that notices.

It's not just the level of the noise that disturbs.  I've sat in bars only to flee on the sixth or seventh consecutive playing of the same record.

Of course though, it's the pace, noise and sher explosian of life that makes Hanoi, in so many ways, so appealing.  That vibrancy can be just beautiful.  Hanoi is so teenage, so full of life.  It's bursting at the seams with people and traffic. It's incredible.

And, it seems, the noise is all new.  All modern.  Karaoke is part of the culture but has been here less than a generation.  Long time expats never tire of telling you, as they gesture towards the revving motorbikes that, 10 years ago "... this was all bicycles".

So is the noise a celebration?  Is noise still so new, so different and such a reflection of positive modern times that it is hard for local people to be angry at it? Does noise equal prosperity? Is it joyfully replacing a dour silent existence of the bad old days?

Are Vietnamese people not only able to ignore noise but actually enjoy the absence of silence?

Maybe.  But not entirely.

Because I do recall leaving an expat bar late at night.  Music was playing loud if not hugely so.  And just as we were leaving a massive stone plant pot broke in front of me on the pavement.  Looking up, it  had obviously been hurled from several stories.

It transpired that it was thrown by an irate neighbour who was tired of the bar's noise.  Likewise another expat i knew suffered banging on the walls from his neighbours if he was watching films with too many explosions.  So when does a noise annoy?

As ever with Vietnam.  No answers. Only questions.

And a headache.

* I should point out that V Resort is actually not bad at all.  It's one of the few out-of-town but easily reached spots from Hanoi and isn't too badly priced.  The pool is beautiful.  I will be back. It's still a hell of a lot quieter than Hanoi.

sweating like a phat bloke at a cup final

They only went and bloody won it.

Hoa Phat Hanoi, the object of my affections, relegation dodgers and, for the most part, just a little crap…well, guess what? They won the cup.

Beautiful. Just beautiful.

We’d blagged a lift with the supporters’ bus down to Ninh Binh to watch the game which started at three. By five, we were looking at each other incredulously. The Phat had won the cup.

Only three weeks earlier we had walked away dejected after an end of season hammering and the prospect of no games till January.

Suffering, as ever from a lack of information, we’d thought that was it. Then out the blue we heard they were in the semi final. Then, in that game, somehow they pulled back a two goal deficit against Danang.

Then we were in the cup final. Albeit against the league leaders and last year’s league and cup double winners. Surely we had no chance.

But we only went and bloody won it.

Cup final day was magical. As ever nothing was straightforward. The trip to Ninh Binh should take an hour and a half but, for varying reasons, our day was elongated to a 10am start and a 10pm finish.

On the way we had tried to guess what the crowd would be. We reckoned that Hoa Phat were taking 400 fans, the southern-based opposition would probably bring less. Including locals, maybe a couple of thousand would be there all told.

And then we got there. Awesome. I’ve yet to see official figures but I reckon there was 40,000. Just beautiful. What an occasion. The only downside being we were given a south facing, uncovered terrace on what must have been the hottest day of the year.

I hadn’t thought to bring either hat or sun cream. I had genuine concerns of being hospitalised by the heat with my pasty skin taking a hammering. In the end I wrapped myself, in every sense, in a Hoa Phat flag.

But that sun was hellish. Horrifically dehydrated I sweated buckets. It ran down my legs, it stung my eyes, it soaked the flag. With the Vietnamese blokes beside me literally moaning in the heat, what chance did a lardy white boy like me have?

But maybe, on the pitch, the heat levelled it. Because while our all conquering opponents wilted, the mighty Phat rose to the occasion. Pulling back a one goal deficit before hammering the winner with 15 minutes to go.

And as the sun started to mercifully cool and as the final whistle approached the Phat fans started to find their voice and the drums sounded, the trumpets blew and we sang our way to victory.

We saw the cup presented and we got back on the bus and thought we were headed for home. Of course we weren’t. We were going for food and rice wine. The whole supporters club were guests of the Hoa Phat directors.

And we ate, we sang, we danced and we toasted. The drums were set up and the trumpeters played in between rice wine shots.

Man, I love this country.

Then, incredibly, I was invited to say a few words. I kept it brief and talked through a translator. It was so short that I can remember every word of it. This is how it went.

Since I was a very small child back in England I have watched my football team, Newcastle United (translated).

I am now 35 and in all that time I have never seen us win a trophy (translated)

I have been watching Hoa Phat Hanoi for one season and I am very lucky (translated)

Because after such a short time I have already seen them win the cup (translated and general uproar)

Thank you Hoa Phat. And thank you everybody for a fantastic day (translated and more general uproar).

But there you go. That word again “lucky”. There is something about this place. Ever since I came here I have been the luckiest guy in the world. In the grand scheme of things, watching my home club fail to win anything and my adopted club win it at the first attempt – well it doesn’t seem like much.

But it somehow feels like a sign. Like me, Hanoi, KOTO, Hoa Phat etc, like it was all meant to be.

Life’s good. It’s all good. I love Vietnam. Love the Phat too.

* The rest of the pics are here.  Celebration movie here and taking home the cup here.

loving the phat

We thought it was all over.

A truly awful last day of the season and a terrible performance by local football team Hoa Phat Hanoi saw us walking away from the ground a week ago cursing their abject crapness.

Now we knew that they had done just about enough to avoid relegation, but information on Hoa Phat is a problem.  Their marketing isn't up to much.  It's almost as if the games are a secret.

So, anyway, we had managed to learn that it was all over till January.  No Phat till the New Year.  Ouch.

But then on Saturday I was woken up by a text message bleeping it's way through my hangover: THE PHAT PLAY SEMI FINAL TOMORROW!!!

What?  That shower?  How did they get as far as the semi-finals?

No matter.  Yesterday at 3pm (that day's random kick off time) we headed down to the stadium.  True to form within minutes we were two nil down to Danang. Our shortlived cup dreams were being shelved. 

And then, well...something incredible happened. Because the Phat, somehow, pulled back the two goals.

Better still...they scored two more on top of that.  Eventually, amazingly, winning the game four three thanks to a hattrick by the now legendary (and pictured above right) Williams De Santos/ De Santos Williams/Dos Santos Willams (local papers can't quite decide).

Thrillingly it appears we are now in the cup final.   Just as awesomely we managed to talk to Williams himself after the game (well shout at him from 30 yards), apparently the game is "soon" and within an "hour and a half of Hanoi".

Gotta love the Phat. 

Any more information on the Phat appreciated.  Esepcially anybody who knows anything at all about where the hell the final is going to be played.  We will be there.

Up the Phat.

* Picture nicked from Vietnamnet.

Update:  Apparently the game is this Sunday,somewhere in Ninh Binh.  Looks too like we might have wangled ourselves onto the supporters buses.  Phat and proud.  More Williams action from Sunday's game below.  Pic nicked from Thanh Nien.

good luck Dee

I love it when people get a little over emotional and all "I Love Vietnam" in their blogs.

I got a goodbye note yesterday from Dee, a VSO-er and occasional blogger based down in Saigon.

She's been here on a short term contract.  Today I read her last Vietnam blog post and it brought a lump to my throat.  It appears she has been on the very same journey as I have.  That "finding yourself" cliche is such rubbish.  But doing what we do, and meeting the people you meet, well you get new perspectives on life.  You realise that so much of what you thought back home was so important, actually means so little.

To put it in context, next week my two years with VSO are up.  The three month extension is in the pipeline but the finish line is in site.  I am mulling over what next.  Maybe a proper "development" job in the long term. If that is the case, then it will definately be overseas.  In the meantime,  probably staying in Hanoi and doing a few odds jobs to keep a roof over my head.

But I agree entirely with what Dee says and, in particular, this quote she includes:

"Security is mostly a superstition, it does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it....life is either a daring adventure or nothing" Helen Keller.

Just superb. And to add to that, like the great man said, two choices, fear or love and there's a quote I come back to, time and time again.

Last night I was talking to a KOTO colleague who is also coming to the end of his time too  We looked back on some of the great days. Christmas 2004, the field trips, Ba Vi 2005, the two winter appeals, seeing the cyclo guys over the finish line.  Just the most fabulous days of my life.  And if I am pushed I can't think of a single day in my old life that compares to any one of those.

And going back to that Keller quote, yes, there is no security.  No, I can't imagine me be able to retire in luxury.  But, what I hope there will be is adventure after adventure.  Because what you learn doing this isn't just the group hug stuff, it's that life can be different.  Life doesn't have to be the safe or the cliche.  And even the most ordinary people like me can do this. 

I've lost count of the number of people via email, or on trips home, who have told me: i would love to do what you do but I have bills to pay, or promotion to get, two more years and I might make senior management etc etc etc.  If you want to do it, then just do it.  Make it happen.  Sell the house, write that resignation letter, pack up the kids and bring them too. Dee's got it.  Not everyone does.  I'm the least religous man in the world but, hey brothers and sisters, I've seen the light. 

Hallelujah

how green is our valley?

There are times, working in Vietnam, when you suggest something and people look at you like you have just stepped off a space ship.

You become aware of glances between Vietnamese colleagues. The "what is this guy on?" look.

This has happened time and time again over the litter issue.

Before both field trips I have organised, I've taken care to give a program to the trainees.  Just a brief itinerary and a few dos and don'ts.

Always in the don'ts is "do not drop litter".  I underline this in the general meeting.  And I repeat it before we set off.

And then, we stop the bus for a break in some beauty spot and a troop of kids leave the bus and throw all their rubbish on the ground.

By pure knee jerk instinct I snapped and angrily told them to pick it all up.  They looked at me like I was nuts.  Although they were following what I was saying, I asked a colleague to translate to make sure.  She was frankly embarrassed to do so.

Eventually, I managed to grab a couple of kids and got them to help.  One suggested it would be better if we threw the rubbish, not on the roadside but directly into the scrub on the mountain behind.

Strangely in a way they were being tidy.  They were actually tidying the bus.  They could quite easily have sat amongst the mess but they tidied their sitting area and threw the rubbish outside.

It seems that there is a number of reasons for this.  Firstly, in the city, your rubbish goes in the gutter.  That is the system and a little old lady comes and sweeps it up.  In the country though there is no little old lady but the rubbish still gets chucked.

When you go for food you drop your bones on the ground, you stub your cigarette out on the floor and the peanut shells add to the mess. A lady comes and sweeps it onto the street. Rubbish isn't bagged so much as just moved on.

Maybe it's the same situation as to when I sit in a Vietnamese cafe and the record is jumping, the speakers are shot, the track has repeated five times and I am the only one who has noticed.  Not just noticed but going out of my mind and ready to kill someone if the music doesn't change.

Maybe litter is a blind spot, like noise pollution is a deaf spot.

And pollution is the one thing that worries me about Vietnam's future.

Sure, Vietnam will become more westernised.  Kids will get fat.  People will swap rice for burgers.  Youth crime will go up. Etc etc etc.  Maybe these are just side effects of development, perhaps you don't get one without the other.

But the pollution.  The litter.  The noise.  Vietnam is the most wonderful country I have visited but it could kills its own tourist industry.  And surely tourism is Vietnam's big hope.

When I spent time in Central America, Nicaragua was just beautiful.  Later I entered El Salvador - similar histories, sizes, wealth, geography and landscapes.  But El Salvador was just covered in litter.  It looked awful.  Really horrible.  What was the difference in the culture or education of these two countries to make such a contrast?

If the KOTO kids are anything to go on there is a huge education job to do before even the concept of environmental damage is understood.  I can understand that when people and countries are struggling, then the first concern is food for the table and the last concern is the environment.

But Vietnam is hopefully moving beyond that.  I guess old habits are dying hard.

One final thing to add.  The message does get through.  Later on the field trip I watched half a dozen kids walk out to go sit on a rock in a nearby field and hang out.  An hour or so later I saw them come home with the same Coke cans they had taken out.  They went in the bin.  A big step forward.

The following day when we were playing in the stream, one of the kids waded after a plastic bottle that had been washed away from our group.

Progress I guess, and we made sure our bottle-retriever won Field Trip Trainee of the Day and we made sure we explained why to everyone.

Small victories but I'm still waiting to see litter signs in Vietnam and the TV commercials.  Surely there must be some recognition, at some level, that this is a problem.

*Footnote: These thoughts were put in my head after filling in a form to give feedback on Vietnam.  If you're visited  then you should too.  Go here.  But it struck me that while parts of Vietnam are beautiful they are not so unique.  What makes Vietnam so very special is its people.  Its strengths are: first second and third, it's people.  That's it. Friendly, hard working, positive and (this gets missed a lot)  the most fantastic sense of humor,  And the worst thing: it's not the service (better than most give credit for) and its not the transport (the hassle is part of the adventure), it's the litter.  And its getting worse.

musical help and phat football

Ever since I invested in an Ipod I've now got a whole chestful of CDs worth of music, that are still at my parents' place, downloaded and to hand.

Not sure how I ever lived without it.

Coupled with Limewire and a subscription to the Q Reviews podcast, I can keep up with, and get my hands on, pretty much any tune.

But when I was home I saw a newish Newcastle band on TV called The Motorettes play an absolutely blistering cover version of Alan Hull's very very brilliant "I hate to see you cry"

It was always one of my favourite songs so ever since then I've been trying to find it.  Now I understand it is available on the Motorettes' new album, so theoretically I could buy it via itunes.  Except I can't,  because anything that requires a credit card doesn't bloody work in Vietnam.

So...if anyone knows how to get this tune then let me know.  And download it yourself first.  Your ears will thank you. Sorry, but it's been doing my head in and I can't stand the thought of waiting till Christmas, when I'm next home, to buy it over the counter.

You're good people. Thank you.

Oh and thanks to the people who sent me belated Hoa Phat Hanoi football info.  The season may now be over but check out here, here and here for all things HP.  You'll see that despite being inflicted by rank crapness the mighty(ish) Phat managed to avoid relegation by the skin of their teeth. I'm dreaming of superstar foreign imports arriving by the boatload during the closed season.

In the meantime, the UK football season has started again.  My boy Shola Ameobi (I adopted him while he was still a reserve and championed him through a sustained period of increasing crowd derision) got the winner for Newcastle against Wigan.  Roll on the New Year when I get to see Newcastle on the telly and Sunday trips to see Hoa Phat at their lovely yellow stadium (I guess it probably has a name).

Later kids.

a cultural fusion thing

Art is a big thing here in Hanoi. 

In certain parts of town you can hardly turn a corner without stumbling upon another studio.

As you might imagine in Vietnam, its not just about beautiful originals, you can also get a rather nice Mona Lisa.

Anyway, it seems only fair that while Vietnam is knocking out French masterpieces my Dad, back in Corbridge in the UK, can do a couple of water colours with a distinctly Vina flavour.

The above, I presume, is inspired by my pic below. The rest are as a result of his trip here with my Mum late last year.  Nice job.

I'm always tempted by the pictures here but I never really like buying things here because I'm aware that one day I'll have to pack them up, pay for shipment, or simply give them a way when I move on.  But one day maybe I'll settle somewhere and hopefully I'll have some pictures of Hanoi to remind me of my time here.

the good life, a great field trip

Last Tuesday will go down, for me, as one of my greatest days at KOTO.

Having arrived in Sapa the previous night the field trip was underway.  A total of 79 people made the trip, including 64 trainees.

We had risen early.  Always watching the pennies we had hoped that the kids could walk in their sports shoes.  To put it midly the weather wasn't up to that.  It had been bucketing down. 

On the way up, rivers were overflowing and the buses had to avoid the mudslides. So after breakfast we set off to Sapa market to buy wellies for all. 

Meanwhile the kitchen trainees set to making over 150 sandwiches for the trip and bagging them up with a selection of fruit for the picnic.

And still the rain came.

There was no point waiting for a break in the weather.

I had taken care to quitely brief all the staff.  The only way through this was to out smile the trainees.  keep up morale in the face of the soggy elements. And so - umbrellas up and wellies pounding - we set off.

And the rain got harder.  it was touch and go for a while whether we could carry on.

But the kids for the most part were stars.

They trudged along in the torrential rain still smiling.  And for the kids finding it touch we laughed and joked.  Sung in the rain (with tap dance steps).

Those wellies were soon to be problematic. In no time started to rub and blisters were arriving quickly.

At one point a waterfall had formed on a cliff face.  The mass of water falling down threatened to wash away the people walking through below.  Maybe later in the day it would become impassable.  But we made it through.

We turned off the road onto mud tracks.  Now it was my time to find the going hard.  No wellies that fit me in Sapa.  I was in training shoes and looking like Bambi on ice on the thick downhill mud.

And then it started to brighten a little.  Letting up just as we stopped for lunch.  Picnics out, and sarnies being munched, the smiles continued.

In the afternoon it drizzled.  And the going got a little tougher.  The steps got heavier.  The blisters more painful. Our party snaked right up hillsides.  The fitter walkers at the front and staff bringing up the rear while motivating those that flagged.

And of course we made it.  To our evening stop that is.  We were staying in an ethnic minority village.

And as the kids realised that this wasn't just a rest break they visbly relaxed.  They found their beds.

Once they had kicked off their wellies and changed into dry clothes they organised themselves to start work on dinner.  They make some fantastic food at the KOTO restaurant with a commercial, if somewhat improvised and dilapidated kitchen, but here they were using more basic tools.

Martin our chef consultant came out to see me where I was taking a breather outside the hut.  "Have you seen the kichen?" he enquired.  I ducked in.  It was awesome.

In a little over an hour they had prepared and cooked food for every last one of us.  Tofu, stir fried beef, rice by the tonne, veg, eggs.  And more besides.

And as the weather calmed we settled down to eat together.  Morale was high and you could see the trainees were proud. I was proud too.  So proud of them all.

I sneaked off to enjoy a cigarette, alone with my reflections of the day. Our  KOTO entourage included two of my very best friends from home. 

Their trip to see me had accidentally coincided with the field trip.  The prospect of missing either was unthinkable so they came too. And again I was proud. 

Proud that they could see the kids give such a good account of themselves.  Proud of what I was involved with here.  And glad that they could see it too and understand why I love it here and love what I do.

So I reflected on my life in Vietnam and just how lucky am I. It had been, against all the odds, the most wonderful day. That evening we scrunched into two huts.  Boys in one and girls in the other. But not before the kids had sung, danced, and entertained us all long into the night.

And we woke, with aching limbs, on the Wednesday morning to bright blue skies and wonderful views.

When it does stop raining there can be few more beautiful places in the world than Sapa. After a bowl of noodles, the Vietnamese breakfast of champions, we set off again back to our hotel.  The wonderful line of KOTO kids once more snaking through the valley.

The day remained as beautiful as it started. Smiles everywhere.

The weather for the two days had turned out to be perfect.  Real hard work, teambuilding, sense-of-achievement stuff for the Tuesday.  And bask-in-the-glory Wednesday sunshine.

For the rest of the field trip the kids enjoyed free time, culminating in a laugh riot talent show. But nothing will beat that memory of the Tuesday in the rain.  Staff, kids and volunteers all pulling together against the elements.  A slick, smiling, mud plodging, creative cooking, KOTO machine. 

Once more I realise just how lucky I am to have this experience in my life.

And finally a word about the staff that helped out.  Somehow, by default I had found myself in charge.  I had already visited Sapa to check it out with a colleague.

Together we worked on fleshing out an itinerary and making it happen.

Before we set off I appointed three captains, all KOTO graduates to run the trip.

They were awesome.  So much so by halfway through the first day I was telling them: "You decide", when they asked me a question.  They'd get into a huddle come up with a plan and they got on with it.

These three, now working in front of house, training, and marketing, are the fututure of this organisation and they were amazing.  Very very gratifying.  The were the embodiment of the Know One Teach One motto.  Again, I was so very proud.

All the rest of the Sapa pics here.

trekking back to happiness (oop ba oh yeah yeah)

At KOTO all seems good right now. Very good.

Experience should be telling me to watch out for a crash landing but I'm enjoying the good morale while I can.

There are a few smiles around the place right now. The mickey taking is back.

Class nine are settling in well after joining us in Spring this year. They're a bunch of fantastic kids who are going to be a strong unit.

There's this one kid who just breaks my heart. I'm personally unaware of her background but all of the kids here have had it tough. She's tiny and with one of the most amazing faces I have ever seen. God knows what she has gone through but there is a real sadness about her.

But I'm starting to see that sad face crack. Her big eyes are starting to twinkle and just occasionally her down-turned mouth cracks an all too brief smile. She's relaxing in the KOTO environment and gaining confidence. That smile is like a ray of sunshine coming out from behind a storm cloud.

Elsewhere excitement is rising. Tonight the restaurant will close for just over a week. First the staff are finding time to get together to plan for the future.

And then on Monday (get this), 87 of us are going on field trip.

Buses have been provided by incredibly generous sponsors. Hotels rooms have been gifted at discounted rates.

We're going trekking in Sapa. We're taking the kids to the mountains. And when you stop to think about the significance to these kids it is humbling. These kids who have had so little are going on holiday - a rare treat for anyone in Vietnam.

It's a four day break and when we return there will be much to do. 

Whisper it quietly, but after the longest struggle known to humanity, progress is being made on the new KOTO restaurant. Keep it here for details. 

At the end of this month I officially finish my two year posting. I'm in the process of organising an extension to see me through to Christmas (and hopefully gaze upon the wonder of that new restaurant).

In all honesty I am tired and need a break too (and as wonderful as it will be, having 87 kids with you is not a break), but the building momentum and enthusiasm will see me through till Christmas. With maybe a short break in late October if I can.

Back with Sapa pics in a week or so.

 

Pic above was taken by (and features) KOTO trainees as part of something called the Women's Peace Project.  The full set can be found here.

that cyclo guy again

You may remember the fabulous cyclo guys.  Well one half of the team, Adam is settling into semi-retirement in the Westlake area of Hanoi.

However, as a man of impeccable character, advancing years, and an unsurpassed knowledge of Vietnam and its tourist industry, he's putting his time to good use with a new blog aimed at tourists.

He promises to answer any Vietnam-related travel queries for free.  Not bad.

So anyway, that new website. Go here.  For what it's worth, he more than gets the Our Man in Hanoi seal of approval for his services to KOTO.  His cyclo exploits (read from the beginning here - it's quite a tale) have made his something of a legend in these parts.