(Published in The Word, May 2011)
Hanoians are spoilt for choice in terms of lakes, but with precious few large green spaces to be found there is good reason to treasure our major green lung – Thong Nhat Park.
Dancers in Thong Nhat Park
Hemmed in to its west by the chaotic Le Duan and to the south by the ever-cacophonus Dai Co Viet, the east side of the Thong Nhat Park (previously called ‘Lenin Park’) is an altogether more pleasant affair. True, Nguyen Dinh Chieu and the Van Ho’s are no match for the charm of the French Quarter or the intensity of the Old, but they reward those who venture down them with enough to warrant a visit. It’s the park itself that’s the major draw however.
Every morning from dawn people arrive to dance, excersise, meditate, or simply chat over an ice-cold tra da. And so, at 7am on a balmy April morning Linh Phi Nguyen Thuy and I set out at the park’s east gate to talk to some of the local characters.
Park life
Striking gold immediately, we meet 75-year-old Mai Thanh Tan, a retired primary school teacher, in her usual spot on the lake’s eastern shore. Tan is one of a 20 strong group of friends who meditate every day. Enigmatic and serene, she steps forward when we ask who among the group has known the park longest. Tan trumps the rest by some margin – she helped build it.
Reminiscing, she tells us how in 1960 she was “one of the many who came together from all around the local area to raise this park”. Tasked with bringing soil in from outside the grounds, she recalls, “it was hard work, really hard, and the days were long,” but when asked if her memories are fond, she becomes bashful, crossing her arms behind her back and looking to the floor. “I’m very proud to have been part of all this, to represent the people and all for no profit,” she says, “yes, I am very proud”.
Tan only has to wander around the corner from her home on Van Ho II to reach the park, while Luu Thi Xuyen treks some 3km on foot every day to join her friends to dance in the shade of the trees. When meandering along the park’s many paths, visitors will hear the music of six or seven dance groups. “We pick a group according to the style of dance we want to practice or learn,” says Xuyen. Today her group is learning the Cha-cha-cha. They’re close-knit friends who met and bonded through a love of dance.
Dancing here isn’t free, but Mai Anh tells us, “it’s not expensive; it costs me VND30,000 a month – that’s VND1000 a day to make me very happy”.
Before leaving the park we stop for a drink at one of its many small cafes. Here we get taking to Phuong, who at 53 has been coming to the park every day for 13 years to take aerobics classes. Phuong explains that each aerobics group has its favoured spot and that disagreements can ensue when territory is encroached upon. But not, of course, with her group. She explains, “if people come and take our spot we don’t say anything, we just make sure we are there earlier the next day.” The old cliché of Germans and Brits abroad with their sunbathing towels springs to mind.
For some younger people the park is a relic of the past.
“I’ve only been here twice in my life,” Huong confides. “I think in the past people came here for entertainment from all around. Now it’s old, it doesn’t attract people in that way. For some it’s a forgotten place.”
Come back here at 5pm however and you’ll encounter scores of young people running and, at the weekend, the lake is awash with young lovers in swan pedalos.
Pre-theatre Bia Hoi
In front of the park’s East gate sits the imposing, four storey Bia Hoi. Outside, an aged gentleman plies his trade fixing bikes. Closed for the colder months, its roof-top terrace is now open for business. It’s a Bia Hoi, so don’t expect grand things, but here you can sit in the sunshine, out of the smoke, and enjoy a cold one.
Next door, at the Cheo Hanoi Theatre we meet Hanh, the stage designer, who explains that Cheo is a traditional form of Vietnamese musical performance. After graduating, Hanh had a number of options but she chose to work in the Cheo theatre because she “wanted to preserve the tradition of Cheo theatre.” She reasons that, ”Cheo is unique and therefore important to my country and its heritage.”
Classic mopeds and an Aladdin’s Cave
Further South, past a several fabric shops and a top-drawer Bun Cha stall, a collection of classic Peugeot mopeds is watched over by Quang who has worked on this small alley for 20 years. He’s seen little change in that time, bar the increasing number of foreigners who come to gawp at his bikes.
“They come and they look but they never buy – perhaps we could export them to England together and get rich!”, he jokes. Quang speculates that these beautiful Peugeot 100 series mopeds were first brought to Vietnam by the great and the good from Europe in the 60s, while today they remain the plaything of the rich.
Hidden deeper down Van Ho II, following a row of small hairdressers-cum-manicurists, is another of Hanoi’s many wondrous curiosities. Behind a fence nestles a jumble of ceramics, furniture and trinkets, all shrouded in a thick layer of dust. Nobody is on hand to sell, but it’s fun to wander in and poke around.
It’s astounding but sadly true that a few years ago a large hotel corporation hatched plans to build a hotel in Thong Nhat park – yes, in the park. Unsurprisingly the local people were up in arms and the media was behind them. Protests ensued and were ultimately successful – the hotel giant was beaten back and the park remains a place for the people who love and cherish it.
