View allAll Photos Tagged Expectations
Great Expectations - A Windy Day
Painting by David Brian Smith in the Painters' Painters exhibition in the Saatchi Gallery
20161209_5691x
Fortunately, the frog was on the other side of the glass.
I apologize for my lack of activity lately - a combo of work, a pony with a broken leg, and general exhaustion really got in the way of any creativity.
From the autumn 2016 trip to Vietnam:
If ever there were a good way to finish up a trip, this particular Sunday in October would be it. Before arriving in Hanoi, I honestly had exceptionally low expectations. A bit like Saigon, if you are to go online and try to look up a list of places to visit – basically a tourist’s stock photography checklist, as it may be – you don’t find much that’s appealing. Well…I didn’t, anyway, and as a result, I had pretty low expectations for Hanoi.
The charm and beauty of Hanoi, however, isn’t in any one particular place. It’s in the experience of the entire city. (I’d say the same for Saigon, but multiply that a few times for Hanoi.) On this day in the Old Quarter in particular, I kept finding myself thinking, “Oh, my God, I shouldn’t be this lucky as a photographer…” Today ended up being mostly about people, with a little food and historical locations mixed in.
As I mentioned in the last set of posting, today would start off a bit sad with Junebug leaving for China a day before I would. So, we were checked out of our room by 6:00 in the morning or so. The breakfast at the Art Trendy was wonderful. Buffet with a mix of made-to-order omelets mixed in. Strong work, Art Trendy, strong work…
When June left, I really had nothing to do since it was still six in the morning and I was temporarily homeless as I had to switch hotels. So…I sat around the lobby for about two hours (possibly slightly awkward for the poor girls working there, but oh, well; I had to sit somewhere).
Around 8:00, I finally dragged my old bones out of the hotel and walked the five to ten minutes down the street to the Aquarius, where I politely asked them to hold my non-camera bag until I come back around 1:00 in the afternoon to check in.
After that, I was finally off with my cameras to enjoy an early Sunday morning in the bustling Old Quarter. On the street where the hotel is situated are a number of restaurants where locals were jammed in to enjoy noodles, steamed buns, and the like. It was wonderful to be among that crowd (though someone tried to scold me ever so slightly for taking pictures of people eating).
Since this was right next to St. Joseph’s Cathedral – and it was Sunday morning – I found my way back into the church where we crashed the wedding the afternoon before and realized that I almost got locked into Sunday mass while walking around taking pictures. So…I stayed. I prayed. And my prayer was answered when I realized the side doors and even the back door were open. (Ok…I didn’t really think I was locked in a church, but it did feel like it a little bit.)
Upon exiting the church, a handful of frames under my belt, I walked along the lovely streets photographing shops and people. At Caphe, I piggybacked on someone else’s photo shoot – it looked like they were doing a promo for the place, or possibly just a personal shoot for five women, though I have a feeling it was the former. At any rate, I was quite pleased with that little set and am presenting quite a few of those here, even if they’re a little redundant.
My ultimate goal with this wandering was to find my way to the Hanoi Hilton. Now, I’m not taking about the hotel chain, of course, but rather the prison that U.S. prisoners of war sarcastically called the Hanoi Hilton during the Vietnam War. (This is the prison where Senator John McCain was interred while a POW, and there are one or two pictures to that effect here.)
This prison has a particularly interesting history (and morbid since…well…it’s a prison). It’s about a hundred years old and was founded by the French colonialists around the turn of the 20th century. During the first 50 years of its history, the French imprisoned Vietnamese insurgents and those who wanted independence. In the eyes of the French…renegades (hence the imprisonment). In the eyes of the Vietnamese – especially the current government – patriots and national heroes. If they were truly freedom fighters, then I would probably side with the current government on that one.
The French even had a guillotine installed here and overcrowding was a major problem. There were plenty of escape attempts, and more were successful than you may think, which is a little peculiar.
After the battle of Bien Dien Phu and the ejection of the French from the north (and before the U.S. got involved in the south), the prison changed hands and was under control of Ho Chi Minh. During the Vietnam War, it became one of the main prisons for U.S. POWs, as I alluded to above.
The propaganda claims that the Vietcong were absolutely humane and decent with U.S. prisoners, allowing them to observe their religious rites (Christmas celebrations, etc.), allowed prisoners to smoke and enjoy leisure (board games, basketball, etc.), and claimed they were well-fed.
This is certainly how it’s presented in the prison/museum currently. If you were to go online, though, and try to find a contrary report, you would find that this was all coerced and staged to make it appear as if things were on the up and up. (For anyone curious, per my Vietnamese friends, the general education in Vietnam today is how terrible the French and U.S. were for colonizing and torturing the country and keeping it from its independence.)
So, what’s the truth of what really happened? Who knows? Outside of firsthand accounts, it’s impossible to know for certain and even then, memory can be a tricky thing. I tend to like to say the truth is always somewhere between two opposing viewpoints, no matter what the topic may be.
From an impartial and purely photographic point of view, the prison, currently a museum/memorial, is an interesting place to spend an hour or two. Some of the exhibits seem a bit cheesy, but some are quite tasteful and well done. There’s also an informational video. You’ll have to see this with a bit of imagination (the prison, that is), as at least half of it has been leveled for high rise buildings. At least there’s some tangible piece of it left to visit, including the main gate (Maison Centrale).
After about two hours here at the Hanoi Hilton, I walked over towards the Opera House to get a few daytime shots but, really, to get lunch at El Gaucho. I was looking forward to a proper steak. The prices were astronomical (though justifiable based on what I ate), though I just opted for a steak salad. It was so good I contemplated going back for dinner, but had other plans.
With a happy stomach, I went back to finally check in at the Aquarius Hotel and got my workout huffing up six flights of stairs each time I went out. I relaxed here for a few hours until 4:00 when a dear friend of mine came to town to see me.
Ngan and I had an ice cream at Baskin Robbins right in front of St. Joe’s before heading over to the Temple of Literature. This is a temple dedicated to education and, bless my soul, it’s a place where university graduates come for graduation pictures.
On this particular day – a warm, sunny, late Sunday afternoon – it was packed with college students. And it was beautiful to see that many people happy, full of hopes and dreams, and dressed in either cap and gown or traditional Vietnamese clothes. In short…I had a field day shooting for an hour here.
Around 5:00, Ngan had to head back to school, and I went back to my hotel. I had one more meeting. Hoa, who traveled around Thailand & Cambodia with me in May, flew back to see me this evening. She picked me up at 6:00 on her scooter and rode me all around Hanoi by evening.
She started by taking me to Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum (which I consider a lot more photogenic in its setting than the Great Gangster’s Mausoleum on Tiananmen Square). This one, at least, was in a parklike setting. At evening, it’s well-lit and you can find people relaxing in the grass in front of it. During the day, you can visit and there are quite a few buildings behind the mausoleum that you can also see.
After a few minutes here, Hoa took me by West Lake – the largest lake in Hanoi, as I mentioned yesterday – and just drove me around for over an hour, it seemed. My impressions that Hanoi (even out of the Old Quarter) seemed to be a good place to live – though I’d be concerned about the air pollution – and people here seemed to be happy. Also…Vietnamese really love their coffee.
We finally returned to the Old Quarter for dinner at one of the famous restaurants she recommended and she treated me to a wonderful dinner. I can’t recall what we ate (the Vietnamese names of it, anyway), but it was nice.
After dinner, she drove me over towards the Opera House and then, finally, we stopped by Hoan Kiem Lake in the heart of the Quarter and walked around the lake. It was getting close to 10:00 by this time, and I wanted to get back to the hotel to get a few hours sleep before waking up for my early flight in the morning. Hoa came to the airport with me to see me off.
If ever there were a great way to finish a great trip, this was it. I absolutely loved Vietnam – honestly, a lot more than I imagined I would, even with every single person I know who’d ever come here saying what a fantastic country this is – and would gladly come back. This seems to be one of the kinds of countries that you would never get tired of or, if you did, it would sure take a long time. With that, I’ll bid goodbye to Vietnam for now with the hopes that I’ll someday return to this land of amazing food, landscapes, and people.
As always, thanks for dropping by and viewing these pictures. Please feel free to leave any questions or comments and I’ll answer as I have time.
WPCA-51 passes through Folsom, NJ, on a storage run to Tuckahoe, NJ, with two High Hood GP38-2s, 1 covered hopper, and 17 tankcars.
From the autumn 2016 trip to Vietnam:
If ever there were a good way to finish up a trip, this particular Sunday in October would be it. Before arriving in Hanoi, I honestly had exceptionally low expectations. A bit like Saigon, if you are to go online and try to look up a list of places to visit – basically a tourist’s stock photography checklist, as it may be – you don’t find much that’s appealing. Well…I didn’t, anyway, and as a result, I had pretty low expectations for Hanoi.
The charm and beauty of Hanoi, however, isn’t in any one particular place. It’s in the experience of the entire city. (I’d say the same for Saigon, but multiply that a few times for Hanoi.) On this day in the Old Quarter in particular, I kept finding myself thinking, “Oh, my God, I shouldn’t be this lucky as a photographer…” Today ended up being mostly about people, with a little food and historical locations mixed in.
As I mentioned in the last set of posting, today would start off a bit sad with Junebug leaving for China a day before I would. So, we were checked out of our room by 6:00 in the morning or so. The breakfast at the Art Trendy was wonderful. Buffet with a mix of made-to-order omelets mixed in. Strong work, Art Trendy, strong work…
When June left, I really had nothing to do since it was still six in the morning and I was temporarily homeless as I had to switch hotels. So…I sat around the lobby for about two hours (possibly slightly awkward for the poor girls working there, but oh, well; I had to sit somewhere).
Around 8:00, I finally dragged my old bones out of the hotel and walked the five to ten minutes down the street to the Aquarius, where I politely asked them to hold my non-camera bag until I come back around 1:00 in the afternoon to check in.
After that, I was finally off with my cameras to enjoy an early Sunday morning in the bustling Old Quarter. On the street where the hotel is situated are a number of restaurants where locals were jammed in to enjoy noodles, steamed buns, and the like. It was wonderful to be among that crowd (though someone tried to scold me ever so slightly for taking pictures of people eating).
Since this was right next to St. Joseph’s Cathedral – and it was Sunday morning – I found my way back into the church where we crashed the wedding the afternoon before and realized that I almost got locked into Sunday mass while walking around taking pictures. So…I stayed. I prayed. And my prayer was answered when I realized the side doors and even the back door were open. (Ok…I didn’t really think I was locked in a church, but it did feel like it a little bit.)
Upon exiting the church, a handful of frames under my belt, I walked along the lovely streets photographing shops and people. At Caphe, I piggybacked on someone else’s photo shoot – it looked like they were doing a promo for the place, or possibly just a personal shoot for five women, though I have a feeling it was the former. At any rate, I was quite pleased with that little set and am presenting quite a few of those here, even if they’re a little redundant.
My ultimate goal with this wandering was to find my way to the Hanoi Hilton. Now, I’m not taking about the hotel chain, of course, but rather the prison that U.S. prisoners of war sarcastically called the Hanoi Hilton during the Vietnam War. (This is the prison where Senator John McCain was interred while a POW, and there are one or two pictures to that effect here.)
This prison has a particularly interesting history (and morbid since…well…it’s a prison). It’s about a hundred years old and was founded by the French colonialists around the turn of the 20th century. During the first 50 years of its history, the French imprisoned Vietnamese insurgents and those who wanted independence. In the eyes of the French…renegades (hence the imprisonment). In the eyes of the Vietnamese – especially the current government – patriots and national heroes. If they were truly freedom fighters, then I would probably side with the current government on that one.
The French even had a guillotine installed here and overcrowding was a major problem. There were plenty of escape attempts, and more were successful than you may think, which is a little peculiar.
After the battle of Bien Dien Phu and the ejection of the French from the north (and before the U.S. got involved in the south), the prison changed hands and was under control of Ho Chi Minh. During the Vietnam War, it became one of the main prisons for U.S. POWs, as I alluded to above.
The propaganda claims that the Vietcong were absolutely humane and decent with U.S. prisoners, allowing them to observe their religious rites (Christmas celebrations, etc.), allowed prisoners to smoke and enjoy leisure (board games, basketball, etc.), and claimed they were well-fed.
This is certainly how it’s presented in the prison/museum currently. If you were to go online, though, and try to find a contrary report, you would find that this was all coerced and staged to make it appear as if things were on the up and up. (For anyone curious, per my Vietnamese friends, the general education in Vietnam today is how terrible the French and U.S. were for colonizing and torturing the country and keeping it from its independence.)
So, what’s the truth of what really happened? Who knows? Outside of firsthand accounts, it’s impossible to know for certain and even then, memory can be a tricky thing. I tend to like to say the truth is always somewhere between two opposing viewpoints, no matter what the topic may be.
From an impartial and purely photographic point of view, the prison, currently a museum/memorial, is an interesting place to spend an hour or two. Some of the exhibits seem a bit cheesy, but some are quite tasteful and well done. There’s also an informational video. You’ll have to see this with a bit of imagination (the prison, that is), as at least half of it has been leveled for high rise buildings. At least there’s some tangible piece of it left to visit, including the main gate (Maison Centrale).
After about two hours here at the Hanoi Hilton, I walked over towards the Opera House to get a few daytime shots but, really, to get lunch at El Gaucho. I was looking forward to a proper steak. The prices were astronomical (though justifiable based on what I ate), though I just opted for a steak salad. It was so good I contemplated going back for dinner, but had other plans.
With a happy stomach, I went back to finally check in at the Aquarius Hotel and got my workout huffing up six flights of stairs each time I went out. I relaxed here for a few hours until 4:00 when a dear friend of mine came to town to see me.
Ngan and I had an ice cream at Baskin Robbins right in front of St. Joe’s before heading over to the Temple of Literature. This is a temple dedicated to education and, bless my soul, it’s a place where university graduates come for graduation pictures.
On this particular day – a warm, sunny, late Sunday afternoon – it was packed with college students. And it was beautiful to see that many people happy, full of hopes and dreams, and dressed in either cap and gown or traditional Vietnamese clothes. In short…I had a field day shooting for an hour here.
Around 5:00, Ngan had to head back to school, and I went back to my hotel. I had one more meeting. Hoa, who traveled around Thailand & Cambodia with me in May, flew back to see me this evening. She picked me up at 6:00 on her scooter and rode me all around Hanoi by evening.
She started by taking me to Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum (which I consider a lot more photogenic in its setting than the Great Gangster’s Mausoleum on Tiananmen Square). This one, at least, was in a parklike setting. At evening, it’s well-lit and you can find people relaxing in the grass in front of it. During the day, you can visit and there are quite a few buildings behind the mausoleum that you can also see.
After a few minutes here, Hoa took me by West Lake – the largest lake in Hanoi, as I mentioned yesterday – and just drove me around for over an hour, it seemed. My impressions that Hanoi (even out of the Old Quarter) seemed to be a good place to live – though I’d be concerned about the air pollution – and people here seemed to be happy. Also…Vietnamese really love their coffee.
We finally returned to the Old Quarter for dinner at one of the famous restaurants she recommended and she treated me to a wonderful dinner. I can’t recall what we ate (the Vietnamese names of it, anyway), but it was nice.
After dinner, she drove me over towards the Opera House and then, finally, we stopped by Hoan Kiem Lake in the heart of the Quarter and walked around the lake. It was getting close to 10:00 by this time, and I wanted to get back to the hotel to get a few hours sleep before waking up for my early flight in the morning. Hoa came to the airport with me to see me off.
If ever there were a great way to finish a great trip, this was it. I absolutely loved Vietnam – honestly, a lot more than I imagined I would, even with every single person I know who’d ever come here saying what a fantastic country this is – and would gladly come back. This seems to be one of the kinds of countries that you would never get tired of or, if you did, it would sure take a long time. With that, I’ll bid goodbye to Vietnam for now with the hopes that I’ll someday return to this land of amazing food, landscapes, and people.
As always, thanks for dropping by and viewing these pictures. Please feel free to leave any questions or comments and I’ll answer as I have time.
My actress friend Cassie Bradley, taken during a studio shoot in Manchester last weekend.
Cassie is currently appearing in 'Husbands and Sons', a co-production between the National Theatre and the Royal Exchange Theatre (which ends its run tonight).
On Saturday evening, I saw the play and it was terrific, very intense with excellent performances.
You can see more of my pics of Cassie in my Cassie Bradley set.
I know it has been a while. I just didn't have any idea's for photo's and didn't even had much interest in photographing for several weeks. I'm fine though! Hope you are as well!
Grey military jacket—Forever 21
Old Navy ivory turtleneck—thrifted
Ivory silk scarf—vintage
Silver medallion necklace—Cato
Fragile grey skinny jeans—Ross
Grey/taupe/ivory scarf—thrifted
Sporto boots—Ross
See more at www.styleartisan.com.
At a public meeting in Knutsford in October, Northern’s Regional Director apparently said that there would be no Class 142s on the Mid-Cheshire line after the December timetable change. Well, as Arnie might say, "He lied" and here's 142043 about to leave Hale on 23 December 2019 with 2H35 18:01 Chester to Manchester Piccadilly to prove it. The driver looks a bit puzzled as to why someone is taking a photo of this most reviled type of train.
Lyn Totson (altered James Dean Ken) and his wife, Trish (generic Barbie) take a summer stroll. Trish is due any moment, and the proud papa-to-be can hardly wait.
That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight, I'm
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no, I've said too much
I haven't said enough
I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try
But that was just a dream
That was just a dream
But that was just a dream
Try, cry, why try?
That was just a dream
Just a dream, just a dream
Dream
R.E.M.
The star of Bethlehem was a star of hope that led the wise men to the fulfillment of their expectations, the success of their expedition. Nothing in this world is more fundamental for success in life than hope, and this star pointed to our only source for true hope: Jesus Christ.
~ D. James Kennedy, Christmas Stories for the Heart
## EXPLORED DECEMBER 24, 2008 ##
--------------------------
People's Park
Davao City, Philippines
Going to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Annex in New York City was a very media influenced and gendered experience. Surrounded by videos, photos, and the belongings of iconic stars with their music blaring in your ears, you are taking in the media and messages of the Rock world. Though we do not always think of it when we are listening to our favorite songs, there are definitely major gender divides in the world of music and Rock and Roll. However what I find most interesting is how in the world of Rock it becomes okay and almost encouraged to “transgress” or experiment with the accepted gender lines, at least when it comes to appearance. Rock and Roll has always been considered a rebellious style and kind of music so I suppose it is only natural that they rebel in this area as well.
When you walk into the museum you are given a small device that plays that adjusts to play the appropriate music as you are walking about the museum. So if you are looking at Michael Jackson’s leather jacket “Bad” will be ringing in your ears. As you walk about the museum you will find that the voices you hear are predominantly male. While Rock and Roll has certainly made a lot of progressive strides it still tends to be a male dominated style. Some of the sections are more overwhelming male than others. For example, the first females we saw were a few feet inside the exhibit and they were given their own section. They were the divas or the women famous for their big voices. People like Tina Turner and Aretha Franklin, who was actually named Rolling Stones best singer of all time. However, when you strolled over to the blues rock section with legendary bands like The Rolling Stones or Led Zeppelin there was not a woman in sight. Similarly in the hall dedicated to great guitarists, there were the likes of Hendrix and Eric Clapton but no females. And I must admit when it comes to rock music it is tough to think of an iconic female guitarist. However, when you look over the art inspired rock with the likes of Blondie and Coldplay things became much more gender neutral. There were lesser known female bands as well as some iconic female figures. The singer song writer section was similarly more balanced though still male dominated. Surprisingly the most gender neutral exhibit was the “icons“ exhibit with people who had changed the face of Rock Music. As it displayed images of the huge memorable names in music, there seemed to be just as many females as there were males. With the likes of Madonna, Janis Joplin, and Arehta next to Prince, Dylan and Michael Jackson.
There are all kinds of gender messages in the way these exhibits are set up and displayed. As there are very few female bands it seems to suggest that woman are more likely to or are more successful at performing solo. Also the lack of female guitarist compared to the exhibit dedicated to women just for their voices seems to suggest that women are better singers while men are better instrumentalists. However, when it comes to performers the museum suggests that women can put on a show just as well as a man can, if not better. Likewise in the people who have changed the face of rock and roll Madonna matches Michael step for step and it seems that although Rock is a male dominated genre it is one that has been clearly shaped by both genders.
Lastly what I found very interesting was the clothing and the style. Here Rock and Roll throws all gender expectations out the window and goes for the loudest, the brightest, and the wildest. Most of the early 1960’s clothing seems to be suits for men and dresses for women. While they are usually mod style suits or short dresses they are still relatively conservative. As the decade progressed into the 70’s and 80’s the fashion got really wild. Most notable has to be the long and big hair for men. Normally associated with women and not worn by anyone outside of the Rock and Roll world or those aiming to be a part of the subcultures, men proudly wore long hair in the 60’s and into the 70’s and had big tweezed out wild hair in the 80’s. In fact the bigger it was the better. As glam rock took center stage, men in rock began to break all preconceived and expected gender notions by wearing bright make up, tons of glitter and sparkles, and outfits that looked like they belonged on a wild woman. Walking around the museum it is almost hard to tell which gender the clothes were for. On of the guys from Cream has thigh high leopard print boots, while princes suit sets are tight flared pants and bedazzled cropped jackets, even Johnny Cash’s cow boy boots are black suede with flowers stitched up the sides. Most notably the Rolling Stones proudly wore one piece jump suits, low cut in the front and flared at the bottom that strongly resemble dresses. While most are bright and covered in sparkles one of Mick Jaggers is white with little blue flowers, it looks like a night dress a grandmother would wear but when Mick wears it, its Rock and Roll. Likewise Madonna’s square suit jackets, top hats, and sometimes military style jump suits take on masculine qualities while still playing up her sex appeal. She transgresses too by overtly displaying her sexuality with pointed bras and tight corseted one pieces. While rock like any thing else has its gender divides and stereotypes, at least in its fashion it is a rebellious place where transgressing is the norm and anything goes.
Agora começou o ano, né?! kkkkkkk
Muitas expectativas, espero que tudo dê certo esse ano!
Hoje vi um filme que estava louca pra assistir; sabe aquelas coisas que você começa a ver em todo lugar?! Tava vendo "Grandes Esperanças" em todo lugar, e hoje passou na TV e eu conseguia assistir, agora quero ler o livro!! A foto não é como a da Lolita, sobre o filme, mas achei que o título combinava!
Obrigada por tudo pessoal!! =DDD
Click here to learn more about Camp Humphreys
U.S. Army photos by Victoria Choi
By Victoria Choi
USAG Humphreys Public Affairs
CAMP HUMPHREYS — Summer vacation has come to a close and Humphreys American School (HAS) welcomed children back here on Monday morning, Aug. 27.
All elementary and middle school students with their parents were welcomed by HAS Principal Joyce Diggs and Colonel Darin S. Conkright, United States Army Garrison Humphreys Commander, at the bell-ringing ceremony. This traditional gathering is an opportunity for students, faculty, staff, and their families to formally usher in the year and welcome new members of Camp Humphreys community to the campus.
“The ringing of the school year brings the whole school together and starts the new (school) year in a good cheerful way. That is the way in which we welcome each other,” said Elena Johnson, the school librarian.
In his speech, Conkright emphasized the importance of reading and physical fitness for students.
“Anytime you can read and you have chance to, do it. It is much more fun than watching TV,” he said. “If you do those things, everything else in life is easy, I promise,” he added.
At the end of the brief ceremony children, parents and teachers yelled out ‘Yeah’ while HAS principal and the Garrison Commander rang the bell which represents the official opening of the new school year.
After the ceremony, students proceeded to their classrooms and got the opportunity to get to know their new classmates and teachers. They also got introduced to teacher’s rules, regulations and expectations.
“During the first day there a lot of administrative things that need to be done. But once we get through that we get right into educational components. I think it was wonderful that we had a sunny day and our garrison commander came and rang our school year for us. I think it was wonderful way to bring the school and the community together,” said Carlon Munroe, the elementary school teacher.
“The school provides great support and I believe kids are excited to be here. They are eager to learn and it is great. It is the best we can expect.”
Adapted from Charles Dickens by Lucinda Stroud
Directed by Jane Jones
Art by Mikey Mann
January 16 - February 14, 2016
pcs.org/expectations
Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, adapted by Neil Bartlett
Putney Arts Theatre, 8-12 November 2022
When I was planning my trip to NYC, the friend I was visiting asked me what I wanted to do - the only "must do's" on my list were go and see dance (the reason I booked my ticket in the first place) and go and take photos at Grand Central... I did both :) and a ton more!!
From the autumn 2016 trip to Vietnam:
If ever there were a good way to finish up a trip, this particular Sunday in October would be it. Before arriving in Hanoi, I honestly had exceptionally low expectations. A bit like Saigon, if you are to go online and try to look up a list of places to visit – basically a tourist’s stock photography checklist, as it may be – you don’t find much that’s appealing. Well…I didn’t, anyway, and as a result, I had pretty low expectations for Hanoi.
The charm and beauty of Hanoi, however, isn’t in any one particular place. It’s in the experience of the entire city. (I’d say the same for Saigon, but multiply that a few times for Hanoi.) On this day in the Old Quarter in particular, I kept finding myself thinking, “Oh, my God, I shouldn’t be this lucky as a photographer…” Today ended up being mostly about people, with a little food and historical locations mixed in.
As I mentioned in the last set of posting, today would start off a bit sad with Junebug leaving for China a day before I would. So, we were checked out of our room by 6:00 in the morning or so. The breakfast at the Art Trendy was wonderful. Buffet with a mix of made-to-order omelets mixed in. Strong work, Art Trendy, strong work…
When June left, I really had nothing to do since it was still six in the morning and I was temporarily homeless as I had to switch hotels. So…I sat around the lobby for about two hours (possibly slightly awkward for the poor girls working there, but oh, well; I had to sit somewhere).
Around 8:00, I finally dragged my old bones out of the hotel and walked the five to ten minutes down the street to the Aquarius, where I politely asked them to hold my non-camera bag until I come back around 1:00 in the afternoon to check in.
After that, I was finally off with my cameras to enjoy an early Sunday morning in the bustling Old Quarter. On the street where the hotel is situated are a number of restaurants where locals were jammed in to enjoy noodles, steamed buns, and the like. It was wonderful to be among that crowd (though someone tried to scold me ever so slightly for taking pictures of people eating).
Since this was right next to St. Joseph’s Cathedral – and it was Sunday morning – I found my way back into the church where we crashed the wedding the afternoon before and realized that I almost got locked into Sunday mass while walking around taking pictures. So…I stayed. I prayed. And my prayer was answered when I realized the side doors and even the back door were open. (Ok…I didn’t really think I was locked in a church, but it did feel like it a little bit.)
Upon exiting the church, a handful of frames under my belt, I walked along the lovely streets photographing shops and people. At Caphe, I piggybacked on someone else’s photo shoot – it looked like they were doing a promo for the place, or possibly just a personal shoot for five women, though I have a feeling it was the former. At any rate, I was quite pleased with that little set and am presenting quite a few of those here, even if they’re a little redundant.
My ultimate goal with this wandering was to find my way to the Hanoi Hilton. Now, I’m not taking about the hotel chain, of course, but rather the prison that U.S. prisoners of war sarcastically called the Hanoi Hilton during the Vietnam War. (This is the prison where Senator John McCain was interred while a POW, and there are one or two pictures to that effect here.)
This prison has a particularly interesting history (and morbid since…well…it’s a prison). It’s about a hundred years old and was founded by the French colonialists around the turn of the 20th century. During the first 50 years of its history, the French imprisoned Vietnamese insurgents and those who wanted independence. In the eyes of the French…renegades (hence the imprisonment). In the eyes of the Vietnamese – especially the current government – patriots and national heroes. If they were truly freedom fighters, then I would probably side with the current government on that one.
The French even had a guillotine installed here and overcrowding was a major problem. There were plenty of escape attempts, and more were successful than you may think, which is a little peculiar.
After the battle of Bien Dien Phu and the ejection of the French from the north (and before the U.S. got involved in the south), the prison changed hands and was under control of Ho Chi Minh. During the Vietnam War, it became one of the main prisons for U.S. POWs, as I alluded to above.
The propaganda claims that the Vietcong were absolutely humane and decent with U.S. prisoners, allowing them to observe their religious rites (Christmas celebrations, etc.), allowed prisoners to smoke and enjoy leisure (board games, basketball, etc.), and claimed they were well-fed.
This is certainly how it’s presented in the prison/museum currently. If you were to go online, though, and try to find a contrary report, you would find that this was all coerced and staged to make it appear as if things were on the up and up. (For anyone curious, per my Vietnamese friends, the general education in Vietnam today is how terrible the French and U.S. were for colonizing and torturing the country and keeping it from its independence.)
So, what’s the truth of what really happened? Who knows? Outside of firsthand accounts, it’s impossible to know for certain and even then, memory can be a tricky thing. I tend to like to say the truth is always somewhere between two opposing viewpoints, no matter what the topic may be.
From an impartial and purely photographic point of view, the prison, currently a museum/memorial, is an interesting place to spend an hour or two. Some of the exhibits seem a bit cheesy, but some are quite tasteful and well done. There’s also an informational video. You’ll have to see this with a bit of imagination (the prison, that is), as at least half of it has been leveled for high rise buildings. At least there’s some tangible piece of it left to visit, including the main gate (Maison Centrale).
After about two hours here at the Hanoi Hilton, I walked over towards the Opera House to get a few daytime shots but, really, to get lunch at El Gaucho. I was looking forward to a proper steak. The prices were astronomical (though justifiable based on what I ate), though I just opted for a steak salad. It was so good I contemplated going back for dinner, but had other plans.
With a happy stomach, I went back to finally check in at the Aquarius Hotel and got my workout huffing up six flights of stairs each time I went out. I relaxed here for a few hours until 4:00 when a dear friend of mine came to town to see me.
Ngan and I had an ice cream at Baskin Robbins right in front of St. Joe’s before heading over to the Temple of Literature. This is a temple dedicated to education and, bless my soul, it’s a place where university graduates come for graduation pictures.
On this particular day – a warm, sunny, late Sunday afternoon – it was packed with college students. And it was beautiful to see that many people happy, full of hopes and dreams, and dressed in either cap and gown or traditional Vietnamese clothes. In short…I had a field day shooting for an hour here.
Around 5:00, Ngan had to head back to school, and I went back to my hotel. I had one more meeting. Hoa, who traveled around Thailand & Cambodia with me in May, flew back to see me this evening. She picked me up at 6:00 on her scooter and rode me all around Hanoi by evening.
She started by taking me to Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum (which I consider a lot more photogenic in its setting than the Great Gangster’s Mausoleum on Tiananmen Square). This one, at least, was in a parklike setting. At evening, it’s well-lit and you can find people relaxing in the grass in front of it. During the day, you can visit and there are quite a few buildings behind the mausoleum that you can also see.
After a few minutes here, Hoa took me by West Lake – the largest lake in Hanoi, as I mentioned yesterday – and just drove me around for over an hour, it seemed. My impressions that Hanoi (even out of the Old Quarter) seemed to be a good place to live – though I’d be concerned about the air pollution – and people here seemed to be happy. Also…Vietnamese really love their coffee.
We finally returned to the Old Quarter for dinner at one of the famous restaurants she recommended and she treated me to a wonderful dinner. I can’t recall what we ate (the Vietnamese names of it, anyway), but it was nice.
After dinner, she drove me over towards the Opera House and then, finally, we stopped by Hoan Kiem Lake in the heart of the Quarter and walked around the lake. It was getting close to 10:00 by this time, and I wanted to get back to the hotel to get a few hours sleep before waking up for my early flight in the morning. Hoa came to the airport with me to see me off.
If ever there were a great way to finish a great trip, this was it. I absolutely loved Vietnam – honestly, a lot more than I imagined I would, even with every single person I know who’d ever come here saying what a fantastic country this is – and would gladly come back. This seems to be one of the kinds of countries that you would never get tired of or, if you did, it would sure take a long time. With that, I’ll bid goodbye to Vietnam for now with the hopes that I’ll someday return to this land of amazing food, landscapes, and people.
As always, thanks for dropping by and viewing these pictures. Please feel free to leave any questions or comments and I’ll answer as I have time.
St James, Cooling, Kent
These children's anthropomorphic gravestones provided Charles Dickens with the inspiration for poor Pip's dead brothers in his novel Great Expectations. In fact, they are to members of the wealthy Comport family, some of whom lived at Cooling Castle, today home of the television personality Jools Holland. The opening scene of Great Expectations, when Pip meets the convict Abel Magwitch, takes place in Cooling churchyard.
As I never saw my father or my mother, and never saw any likeness of either of them (for their days were long before the days of photographs), my first fancies regarding what they were like, were unreasonably derived from their tombstones. The shape of the letters on my father's, gave me an odd idea that he was a square, stout, dark man, with curly black hair. From the character and turn of the inscription, "Also Georgiana Wife of the Above," I drew a childish conclusion that my mother was freckled and sickly. To five little stone lozenges, each about a foot and a half long, which were arranged in a neat row beside their grave, and were sacred to the memory of five little brothers of mine - who gave up trying to get a living, exceedingly early in that universal struggle - I am indebted for a belief I religiously entertained that they had all been born on their backs with their hands in their trousers-pockets, and had never taken them out in this state of existence."
Charles Dickens, Great Expectations, 1861