Week Three

Yes, it's always about starting over as I travel the planet.

"Make it new day by day, make it new," said a wandering Chinese monk sitting in a green garden as light shafted through bamboo leaves. Practicing calligraphy.

Winding down small gifts for Indonesians; orange, green, red, blue, and purple Tibetan silk khata scarves. Long, filled with eight auspicious symbols. Delicate and light.

I arrived three weeks ago on a thirty-day tourist visa. Stayed in an Old Quarter hotel for 2.5 weeks. Submitted my passport and $95 bones for a six-month visa extension. It came through this week.

I turned my attention to finding a room. The New Hanoian provides information on events, groups, classifieds, housing and jobs. Alyssa, a teacher friend from our China university days teaching in Nha Trang sent it along while I was in Indonesia. An excellent resource.

I'm in a new room in a new house in a new neighborhood near Lenin Park filled with your typical narrow twisted alleys, dead ends, byways, rusty gates, spilling bougainvillaea foliage, curious kids, workers pulling wheeled carts filled with discarded bricks and mud, slender looming homes (narrow for land tax reasons with 4-5 floors the max) of Ha Noi.

Sequestered inside intimate homes, palm trees, small ponds, it's a respite from the street, noise and gentle wind. A 4th floor balcony offers views of scattered red tiled and metal sheeted roofs, jumbled balconies, distant flashing red light towers, clouds and sky. New garden potentials. Delightful. It's an excellent base for my work, travels and future teaching opportunities.

Discovering new paths, the price of tomatoes and fresh greens. After showing up daily the women give me a fair price.

Two laid back roommates, a Frenchman working for a privately owned agricultural farm three hours north and a Vietnamese speaking Canadian teaching English and playing music with his band of wandering minstrels.

Metta.

Waterproofing a new bamboo hat for a customer.