But moving on, is a museum really a museum if it doesn’t have scaffolding? I think Dr. Olin “the smartest and hottest man Yash knows” Storvick I think would say, “No.” Here’s the story about the wonderful Dr. Storvick. When he was a wee lad attending Luther College majoring in chemistry, he thought he would take Greek and Latin to help with his chemistry. He discovered he loved the languages so much, he decided to triple major. Triple major. In chemistry, Latin, and Greek. How hot is that?!?!? He later became a Fulbright Scholar and studied in Greece. But because his wife was at their apartment in Athens with their two children, she didn’t get to travel and so he brought her back to Greece to show her around. And out of the kindness of their hearts, they took time out of their schedules to show us, college students, around Greece and we went to many, many, many museums. And some of them had headless statues, if you can believe that. I really should have found out if Dr. Storvick had single grandsons as brilliant as him. Chemistry, Latin, Greek, so hot. Yes, Linda, I have a crush on Dr. Storvick.
Now back to the Vietnam trip…Our first stop of the day was The Temple of Literature. It was the first university in Vietnam. Some buildings inside the temple had to be rebuilt due to the war, but the things left standing were incredible. Writings etched on stone from the 1400s. Sadly they were fading, but amazing to look at.
They had musicians playing in one of the buildings. There was one instrument where the woman just clapped her hands in front of one of the open pipes and each pipe made a different sound. Why didn’t they have an instrument like that for me to learn to play when I was growing up? Maybe Jory, Rowan, and Layla could learn how to play it….
Layla and I walked around the temple; people watched all the various nations congregating all over the place. We tried to have a conversation with some teens on a field trip, who were admiring Layla, but that didn’t work out so well. Some things hand gestures and facial expressions just can’t express or explain.
It was during a walk that we received our first ignorant comment. A Vietnamese woman came up to Layla, touched her face, and in her limited English said, “Light skin. Good.” Really?! You don’t know that much English, but you know enough to comment on skin color. God must be so proud of us.
Pardon me,
Your epidermis is showing
I couldn't help but note your shade of melanin
I tip my hat to the colorful arrangement
Cause I see the beauty in the tones of our skin
We gotta come together
And thank the maker of us all
We're colored people,
And we live in a tainted place
We're colored people
And they call us the human race
We've got a history so full of mistakes
And we are colored people who depend on a Holy Grace
Upon seeing my travel mate with beautiful pearls around her neck, we headed off to the jewelry section. I’m still not sure why there is a jewelry store at the Temple of Literature, but who am I to question it. A pregnant woman greeted us as we peeked inside and stuck to our side like glue. Surprise, she worked in the jewelry section, too. She told me about her son and explained to me Vietnam wasn’t big on diamonds and gold. She was right I realized when I passed jewelry stores I didn’t see displays full of diamonds, though I did see a Cartier sign on a store so they do sell some. She said Vietnam was all about the jade. Did you know real jade can scratch a mirror without harming the jade? Nope, I didn’t either but she showed me repeatedly. And somehow I ended up with some jade. I don’t know exactly how that happened, but it did. Before I left she told me I had to rub my hand on the top of the turtle, there were turtle statues everywhere, the tablets sat upon the backs of the turtles. The turtles she explained represented the woman and brought intelligence, wisdom, and a warm heart. Just as the jade wards off illness. The dragons, which were on the top of the buildings, represented the man strong and powerful. But the boys could also rub the heads of the turtles. The things you learn in a jewelry store in a temple.
On the second floor in one of the buildings they had shrines for the three kings, who truly made the Temple what it was, but strangely all of their statues looked exactly the same. Hmm interesting….
We left the Temple in search of a restaurant and we walked and we walked. This was highly unusual because you can’t go a block in Hanoi or Saigon without coming across a restaurant, I mean besides the ones on the sidewalk. But this time nothing except for a second floor café that seemed sort of shady and there didn’t seem to be any way to get to the second floor, so we kept walking. And as we turned the corner, we ran into a supersized, that’s right, KFC. Two days in a row. This time I thought I would shake things up a little and got fries instead of mashed potatoes and cole slaw.
With our bellies filled, we backtracked and went to the Vietnam National Museum of Fine Arts. The first few rooms were filled with artifacts which pre-dated Jesus’ birth and some from around the time of His birth. How can a top of a drum last for thousands of years? It’s unbelievable. The Vietnamese museum was very trusting some of the artifacts weren’t under lock and key; you could reach out and touch them and the statues if you wanted to. It was nice they were so trusting, but another part of me wanted to beg them to protect these priceless pieces at all costs.
Room after room was filled with statues and paintings from different eras. After seeing so many paintings, I started to play a game. As is the Vietnamese way, the titles of the paintings and statues were pretty straightforward. “Young Girl Playing,” “Fairies riding on a dragon,” etc… So the game was to guess the title before reading the accompanying plaque. My gosh, the game was hard.
I knew upon seeing soldiers walking on a bridge through the forest that the title of the painting was going to be “Soldiers on a bridge” or “Soldiers walking through the Forest.” But I was wrong, the painting was entitled, “Green.” Green?!? Yes, the forest is green but to call the painting green, ugh. Then just when I was sure the painting was called “Young girls playing,” the plaque read “Lantern Festival.” Yes, the girls had lanterns in their hands, but come on. I’m telling you the game seems easy, but it isn’t. It really isn’t.
It took a painting or two for me to get the Uncle Ho paintings. At first, I was like who is this Uncle Ho visiting the children. Then it dawned on me, Uncle Ho- - Ho Chi Minh City. I think I found the connection.
After seeing all the Museum had to offer, we headed back over to the Old Quarters in order to enjoy some ice mochas and such at Gloria Jean’s. I passed on the drinks, but did ask the kind woman at the information desk where I could find traditional Vietnamese outfits. She wrote down the name of the street for me so after the others finished their drinks, off we went to find this street while avoiding the main hub of taxis and motor bikes. (Did I mention that when I crossed the street to go to the Museum of Fine Arts that even the cop refused to stop for me and I was in the crosswalk?) Just as I was about to wonder if I had gotten the right directions, there in front of us was a shop selling Ao Dais. Cha ching! This year’s Christmas picture is going to be off the hook! After buying enough outfits, I looked across the street and realized we had found Ao Dai street. A block of shops selling the same thing. Really could someone explain to me how they all make money and stay in business?
For dinner, Nancy suggested this Italian restaurant. Its décor had a nice Italian theme and my lasagna was superb. It might have been the greatest meal I’ve had here, except I couldn’t enjoy it because someone took a five minute nap then woke up and there went eating time. Why couldn’t this have been a restaurant with baby loving waitresses and waiters?
At the end of the day as we were walking around the Old Quarter, I was holding my daughter in my arms, looking into her big brown eyes, and said, “I love you, Kailyer Shalea,” and then I paused for a moment and realized that wasn’t her name….At least she knows I love her sister.
Layout of the original Temple of Literature, before the wars and time ravaged some of it.
Pictures at the entrance of the Temple of Literature
A close up of the detail drawings above the entrance to the Temple.
Peaceful water ponds.
Yes, it's stagnant and still and thank God we visited in the winter.
The flowers almost distracted me. Almost.
Details about the architecture of the Temple.
Details about the students allowed to study at the first university in Vietnam.
The writings on stone.
Inside the Courtyard.
This is the view inside the courtyard if you were facing north.
This would be the view facing west. Hidden on almost the edge of the photo is the entrance to the jewlery store.
This would be the view facing north. You can see the entrance to another store. Who knew there could be so many places to shop inside a temple?
This would be the view facing south leading to the water ponds.
Inside the Temple.
An altar.
Altar with a king or someone in it.
An altar with two kings.
Details about some of the rulers.
And some more rulers.
Clothing the students wore.
And more clothing.
A writing block that maybe the students used?
The musicians inside the Temple.
MAY 31 - Rowan and Jory in their hard to find outfits. They had to put them on now because Jory's is already creeping up his arms and legs. I didn't take into account Jory not being a small Vietnamese boy.
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