Sunday, November 21, 2010

And Isn't It Ironic

The irony isn't lost on me that less than thirty six hours after I publicly proclaimed my love of Hanoi something should happen to test that.

I had joined my two friends for a lovely evening at Son Tinh and the three of us had a wonderful time. I even sang a duet with one of the waitresses ("Because you loved me" by Celine Dion)I left the restaurant in a wonderful mood and big bouquet of flowers (not a result of my performance)

As I was driving I was doing two things: 1. singing "Because you loved me" out loud because it was stuck in my head 2. thinking about how I love driving after midnight because the streets are so calm.

Not even a mere block from my home is where the action happened. It came from nowhere, a felt a sharp tug at the purse on my shoulder as two Vietnamese youths were whizzing by. They didn't get my bag (which contained no cash anyway)but the jerk and movement caused me to slam to the ground followed by my bike. The flowers scattered everywhere. I screamed, an older gentleman rushed outside and began PICKING UP THE FLOWERS as I shakily and gingerly got my bike to my house. My wrist was in agony and I could already feel my knee swelling up. I managed to hold it together until I got into my house and once on the phone with my father the tough girl facade crumbled as I sobbed down the phone to him. I've always been a Daddy's girl. I don't think there is a man in the world who even comes close to my father in terms of quality and excellency. (This is part of the reason why in relationships my standards are so high and why I refuse to settle for anyone sub par or tolerate any kind of nonsense)

What I am upset about, is not the fact they tried to steal my purse. That kind of petty crime transpires worldwide. I actually believe Hanoi is extremely safe and that serious and violent crimes are not prevalent here. No, what bothers me is the manner in which my purse was targeted. I was DRIVING, THEY were driving at a high speed. It is almost inevitable that I would fall. And falling hurts, I could've been seriously injured. Luckily, i wasn't, i walked away with a very swollen and slightly fractured wrist and lots of bumps and bruises but nothing serious. but I learned something from this:

1. The realization that I do need and should get health insurance
2. A little bit more street smarts. My bag will no longer be thrown over my shoulder, and will not contain all of my credit cards
3. Irony is abound. This happened two days after I wrote my "I love you Hanoi" blog and the day after I started renting a motorbike, which is now damaged.
4. My brother really loves me. A lot.
5. This kind of thing results in lots of attention. Facebook and twitter generated the buzz and the wrapped wrist I am sporting immediately makes me the center of attention wherever I go. And we all know I like attention. ;)

In love, I don't like to play games nor do I like tests. Hanoi, I am very angry with you for trying to test my love like this. I am a very loyal person, I won't just walk away at the first sign of trouble. I haven't lost my faith. I'm in it for the long haul. If anything, my inclination to defend the city so ardently and rationalize the action only reaffirmed what I have slowly been realizing...I love this city. Truly, madly, deeply. For better or worse. Plus, I can now check "victim of attempted mugging" off my to-do list.


  1. Dust off your resume, brush up your TESOL/ESL stuffs and head down south to the delta if your love for Hanoi ever turned sour. TTU is hiring, and from the looks of thing, native English speakers are being sought out.

    Check out the pic of their campus. I've never thought I'd live to see the day when there's a college in VN bigger and swankier than the crummy state school I went to. :(

  2. I really sympathize with you. Some days I step out the front door happy to be alive in Hanoi, feeling confident because I know some streets, I know some Vietnamese, and then something happens 10 mins. later and I just turn around and drive home in a bad mood and turn on the TV just to hear English. Hang in there, the privelage of living in the capital isn't always granted.
    The West Lake Review