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Thiranjala Weerasinghe sj.- One Island Two Nations
?????????????????????????????????????????????????Thursday, July 6, 2017
Occasional Stories: Eating Dog Meat!
I
had a terrible time during the first week of my stay in Hanoi. The year
and month were 1987 and February. This was my first visit to Hanoi or
Vietnam and had some official business to perform. My brief was to meet
with the Ministry of Education and select and agree upon where our
scholarship program could be implemented. This could have simply been
done through sitting in a ministry room and going through the relevant
papers, but my host thought otherwise.
I
was taken to almost every higher education institution called
‘universities’ and even had to speak to some potential recipients of
scholarships, of course through an interpreter. There were around 34
institutions in the Hanoi province if I remember correct. Therefore, my
days were hectic and gruelling. Hanoi is a nice old city, and Hanoi
meaning ‘the city of lakes.’
I was staying at Danchu Hotel and danchu means
democracy, I was meant to believe. But everything was quite nicely
regimented of course for my own sake. The days of February were quite
cool or rather cold and in the hotel, there was no proper heating. It is
a hotel obviously built during the French colonial times, but neglected
thereafter particularly during the war times and only now there were
new improvements after the economic reform programs two three years
back.
I
had to wake up early morning and get ready by 8.00 after having
breakfast. Then I was taken out. Every morning I was given an itinerary
for the day and I didn’t have any say on the matter. If we were in the
city area, I was brought back to the hotel sharp at 12.00. Then I was
asked to take lunch and have a rest and get ready sharp at 1 O’clock.
When we go out in the afternoon, sometimes it was late in the evening
when we came back. Dinner was taken out.
I
was not sure whether this strict regimentation was followed to impress
upon me or that is the way the government bureaucrats operated under
still an ‘orthodox’ communist regime. When I arrived in Hanoi, the first
thing they did was to take my passport on the pretext of some official
reporting, but that was never returned to me until my day of departure. I
was little annoyed about the matter but for the sake of politeness or
tact decided not to make an issue of it.
My
main host was Dong Ho and he was the Second Secretary to the Ministry
of Education. Then there were two interpreters, a young man and a young
woman, and they both were extremely nice in their own ways but awfully
obedient to Mr. Ho. I cannot remember their names off hand. Dong became
exceptionally friendly with me eventually and one reason for this change
perhaps was my patience and the other being my nationality.
I
understand that the Ministry has had a bitter experience previously
dealing with NUFFIC, an organization based in the Netherlands, a person
like me visiting but indulging in some espionage work or propaganda
against Vietnam using the information he gathered during his visit. That
is what they told me. This could be one reason why they were quite
careful about my visit as well.
One
unusual day, I was brought back to the hotel quite early, perhaps
around five O’clock in the evening. The two interpreters were rather
excited. Dong asked me whether I eat some meat and I couldn’t gather
what it was but nevertheless said “yes, yes.” I remember that the woman
interpreter had an amusing smile in her face, but I couldn’t understand
what it was.
I could have a decent rest that day and a second shower. I only had to get ready by 7 O’clock. What a luxury, I thought.
I
was in a fancy shirt and a mild pullover. I knew that we were going out
for dinner. Dong wore a tunic. The young woman interpreter was in a
colourful gown and a shawl and the young man, the other interpreter
finally was not there. I think we travelled for about twenty minutes
from my hotel. My notes say it was Tay Ho area or district in Hanoi.
It
was a square like place and in the middle, there was a small park with
colourful lanterns and some people were selling flowers, sweetmeats,
pots, decorations, paintings and curious. The place reminded me of what Thomas More described as a market place in his ‘socialist’ Utopia.
This was just after or the last days of their national Lunar New Year.
Most colourful were the mandarin plants in pots with full of fruit. They
were excelled in hybrid plants. On all four sides, there were small
restaurants built with timber and wood. I was taken to one of them and
at the entrance there were three other officers from the Ministry who
joined us. It appeared that they were subordinates of Dong from their
behaviour until all loosened up after some drinks.