Day 1 in Hanoi.
I picked her up from the airport in a cab but had to leave straight to work. There was no time to easing her into the bike so I had to put the old stick straight on the back, nervous wobbles and all.
I can't understand how a purse, a magazine, some crocheting and a pack of cigarettes warrants such a trolley bag.
I dropped her off at the Little Hanoi, a famous landmark cafe which is easy for both of us to find. We had some lunch and she was happily left to her own devices for the day.
The Little Hanoi was also the pick-up point that evening. As I pulled up, this is what was waiting for me. It was standing there with 2 locals who were attempting to form meaningful, mercantile relationships with her. She said "these are my friends!" as I tried to yank the "non" (which is what the pointy hat is called) off her head.
At the time, I was in too much shock to take a photo - hurrying as I was to flee the scene - so I waited till we got home.
She didn't see me pull up. I should have just driven away. Called her mobile saying that the traffic was bad and she should get a cab. But this would mean her arriving home in this state. And this is something I don't need the Jones's to see.
"You just wore this to embarrass me when I picked you up, didn't you?"
-- "No no. Not at all."
"I don't believe you. It's not possible."
-- "I bought it hours ago. I've been wearing it all day.
"You - wha - are you serious? For how long?"
-- "I dunno. Hours. It's been great."
"Where did you even get it?"
-- "From my friend here."
I tried to ignore her new friend, who was now smiling at me and trying to sell me a lighter. Or postcards. Or heroin.
"Just get the fucking thing off and get on the bike."
-- "No I won't! I'm wearing it home."
"Good luck trying to get the helmet on it."
-- "Oh. I didn't think of that."
"I promise if you keep that thing on your head, I'm going to deliberately crash. I'm not sure whether the goal is to kill myself or you but either way this has to end."
-- "Alright alright I'll take it off!"
For the rest of the trip, the Non was wedged between us on the bike, spiking me in the back:
"Did you see any other tourists wearing one of these hats?"
-- "I don't care. I liked it. It was my goal for Day 1."
"Well from now on, I will be vetting the daily goals."
--- "You will not!"
"Oh really? How are you enjoying this traffic? Care for a little crash?"
--- "Alright alright."
I asked a few other questions about the Non. Apparently, it's difficult to see street signs while wearing it so she was constantly getting lost. I hoped that this also meant people couldn't see her. I soon realised that this brim was no guarantee of anonymity. People here are very short and most could have still seen her grinning face.
"Brother can you spare me a dime?"
There has since been a stern lecture about the Non and it won't be making its way out in public again.
