New Years in Hoi An
A very lucky New Years in Hoi An
The rain poured violently like bullets. I couldn't help but think of Forrest Gump's monologue on the rain in Vietnam. At this rate, the New Year’s fireworks would be cancelled, undoubtedly. People darted in vain to find shelter under thin awnings and overhangs. It was a rain both cold and piercing. A mile walk back to the hotel. No jacket or pancho. My new camera sadly exposed to the elements. Just my luck.
Half an hour earlier, I stumbled out of our hotel in Hoi An, tired but excited. The night was forecasted to be clear skies. Neither hot nor cold. The air was perfect, gentle; still. We woke up at about 11:00 p.m. to throw on some clothes and head to the riverside. We had gone to bed around 9:30 p.m. and probably would have slept the whole night until sunrise, but New Year’s demands a countdown party and after all, I am still in my twenties dammit! I'll sleep when I'm dead, right?
We trudged along some empty Hoi An roads. Desolate and... Strangely... clean? Clearly some preparations were being done in the old town. Anticipation for the New Year’s Eve party was higher than I'd expected.
As I passed through the now quiet streets, the city's charm felt reminiscent of New Orleans. Low-rise buildings filled with character and color. French colonial balconies bathed in the soft light of lanterns. As we neared the river, the vibes became raucous and festive. A celebration for everyone. I had a good feeling about this night.
Unlike New Orleans, the town has been "yellow" washed. In many East Asian cultures, yellow symbolizes royalty and prestige. Of course, this seems to be true in Vietnam as well. I was surprised to learn this piece of information. In fact, when it comes to Hoi An, I think of luck before royalty and prestige.
In fact: Hoi An has never been a capital or site of any royal acclaim. To my knowledge, there is not even a palace in Hoi An and never has been. Yet the town is almost universally beloved by all its visitors who are quick to share their great experiences and lavish praises. Fortunate to have visited such a place. Fortunate such a place still exists.
Hoi An had been a major trading port in Asia for several centuries and many of its iconic yellow buildings and famous sites reflect its historic global connections. A famous covered bridge built by the Japanese in the 18th century. Old Buddhist temples built by wealthy patrons. Countless 18th and 17th century Chinese merchant homes now repurposed to serve as beautiful tailor shops and cafes. French architectural elements and, of course, balconies from the 19th and 20th century colonial period. The city is a living museum. Lucky to have survived so long.
Just like many traditional Japanese cities, Hoi Ans' structures are largely made of wood. Unlike so many historic Japanese cities and sights, Hoi An was miraculously spared total destruction by fire well before fire prevention planning was a thing. How did it survive? Sounds like luck to me.
The American war saw the annihilation of most historic sites in the nearby ancient Vietnamese capital of Hue. The terrible destruction was the byproduct of epic sieges by both Vietnamese and American forces that all but wiped the city off the map. And Hue was far from the only place in Vietnam to face near total devastation during the war. Yet, despite brutal fighting in other nearby areas of central Vietnam, Hoi An survived the war practically unscathed. How could we call this anything but luck?
When the rain started on this New Year’s Eve, it came as a surprise. The weather had been ideal leading up to this and now it seemed the weather would snuff out the fireworks only ten minutes before midnight. Surely the candle lit lanterns, sent to float in the "river" of Hoi An for good fortune, would capsize or be extinguished. Bummer. I got out of bed for this?
But then, as quickly as it had come, the rain abruptly ended, just five minutes before the countdown. Excitedly lanterns were lit and deployed into the river. Local and tourist smiles were brightened by the gentle radiance. The countdown began. Fireworks were launched. With a bang and a glow, 2018 began.
Joy, hope and, of course, a little booze permeated the Vietnamese and foreigner alike. The energy was electric optimism. Dancing ensued. The party had started.
As we walked back towards our hotel from the river and back into the beautiful corridors of Hoi An, children came out of their homes. Dressed in their onesy pajamas and classic rice cone hats, they poured into the street with noise makers. They played music and games. A light drizzle had started, but no matter: a year of good fortune had started off on the right foot in Hoi An!