English is the Stupidest Language

One of the most common words to hear yelled at a westerner on the street is "Yo!" (as in yo-yo). Most often it's used by the xe-om drivers wanting to get your attention and persuade you into a ride to your destination. For a while, I couldn't figure out why they kept yelling out, "Yo!" Where did they learn this? Who says, "Yo!" unless it's an adolescent gone wrong?

And then about a week ago, I finally figured it out. Because the vowel pronunciation of Vietnamese is so different from English, they think "yo" is the correct pronunciation of 'you'. Wait until they try to learn 'they'.

Is recycling really a good thing to do?

As you all know, I'm a recycler. And as you all know, I'm a fanatic not only about recycling, but also about the amount that we waste as a society. I'm not sure if Saigon has an official recycling program as there are absolutely no recycling bins on the streets or in the guesthouses in the tourist area. However, this week I took a ride into a District 4, where I saw a 2-container recycle bin on the street. I thought it was strange since usually in poor countries, the tourist areas are where you see the recycle bins, not the local neighborhoods.

There is however, like in Izmir, an unofficial recycling program carried out by the Vietnamese poor. They collect soda cans, plastic bottles, cardboard and possibly tin, using the bicycle as their transportation and cargo means. They rummage through the trash bins on the streets (much easier here than in Izmir) looking for their pieces of gold. I never see them visit the guesthouses nor do I see any sign that the guesthouses bring them what the tourists throw out. (And remember, in 30 degree heat with high humidity, there are a lot of empty plastic beverage bottles being thrown out.)

On the street a while ago, I was carrying around an empty soda bottle. Not for any reason other than I hadn't seen a trash can. I happened to pass a woman going through one of the orange trash bins and I looked at her bicycle: one large canvas bag filled with plastics, one filled with cardboard and a third with something else. She looked up and I reached out my hand with the plastic Sprite bottle. She smiled, took it enthusiastically and said thank you. It was the second time this week I'd received enthusiasm from a recycler. But after I handed it to her, a thought ran through my brain: it seems so futile to give her just one bottle. How is this going to help her?

The Monsoon Rains

The monsoon rains here aren't those of Mexico or Florida. In the Americas, the dark clouds form, the rain falls for half an hour or an hour, the lightening and thunder join in, and then it passes on. The sun reappears and everyone is happy. Here, perhaps due to global warming, or maybe it's normal, the dark clouds form, the rain falls, there isn't much lightening or thunder, and the rain continues falling. Maybe it tapers off later, but most often it doesn't. The sun doesn't reappear either. But everyone is happy.

Yesterday, I had an appointment at 1:30 far from my hotel. As I walked to it, I saw a sandwich vendor and thought, "That's where I'll buy lunch when I return." Had I stuck with my original plan of buying the sandwich and eating it back in my room, I would have arrived at my hotel at about 2:47. But stupid me, I passed a street vendor selling sweet sausages and I was too tempted. So I sat down and had a plate of rice and sweet sausages. The sausages tasted good, but they were too tough - Sign number one that I'd made a mistake. Then, when I paid for the meal, I was charged 2.5 times what I'd paid for them at a different vendor some days before. Sign number two that I'd made a mistake. Then, as I continued walking back to the hotel, rain drops began falling. I don't have to tell you that that was sign number three. I say that these were bad signs because I had an important call to make at 3pm, but I'd left the number at the hotel. I made it within 10 minutes of my hotel before the rain came down like cats and dogs. It poured. And poured, and poured. It was about 2:49 when it began. As I stood under a store cover waiting, I watched the large clock on the Ben Thahn marketplace tick by. 2:53, 2:59, 3:04, 3:08. I scanned the sky for any opening - any sign that it would stop. There was none.

And so, I was forced to re-enact what I'd done so many times in the MC rains. I ran into the rain, crossing semi-flooded streets, getting completely drenched, and wondering how I was going to get upstairs to my room in the hotel without getting the hotel all wet. People watched as I ran, rain jacket free (when I bring it, it doesn't rain. When I don't...), my hair dripping wet, my shorts and tank top soaked. When I arrived at the alleyway where my hotel was, I was surprised; the alley was flooding. I hadn't seen it like that in the previous 2 weeks of being there. I continued running to the hotel and all I could think of was what I'd witnessed a few days before:

walking down the alleyway towards the main street, I had seen a woman pour a pan of oil into one of the drain holes into the ground. I couldn't believe it (well, actually I could). It had boggled my mind. Lord knows how many others did the same thing.

And so now I was having to put my feet through dirty water because the locals willingly clog the pipes. I arrived at the hotel, got upstairs, made the phone call, dried off and then returned downstairs. When I looked out the door, the water in the alley had risen considerably; I was lucky I had arrived when I did!

An hour or two later, after the rains had stopped and the alley flooding had receded, I left to go find some food. I walked in the opposite direction this time. When I got to the end of the alley, I was shocked. The main street directly in front, and as far as I could see to the right was severely flooded. It was impossible to cross to the other side, though some motorbikes and bicycles were passing by. I wish I had had my camera with me, but I didn't. So there are no pics of the Great Flood.

Wildlife in the City

Saigon is a city of 7 million people. Even here, in such a large metropolitan city where everyone is squeezed together like cows in a pen waiting for their fate, Saigon has a bounty of wildlife. There are lizards (or perhaps geckos). There are roosters. (Okay, maybe they're just lost looking for their owner.) And most commonly found (especially after dusk) are rats and roaches. Unlike Mexico City, Saigon rats are fearless and commonly appear where people can easily see them. To give you an example, this afternoon as I was dining on a plate of rice and meatballs, a good-sized rat scurried under the sidewalk table of a Vietnamese diner and rested next to his shoe. Since he was sitting diagonal from me, I tried to warn him (luckily he was wearing closed shoes), but then the rat scurried back from where he came. When the man realized what I had been pointing to, he just laughed. A few moments later, a western couple sat down on the other side of me, the rat appeared again. The western guy got spooked, jumped up ("I hate rats!" he proclaimed) and tried to warn the Vietnamese man the same thing I had. As he soon discovered, the Vietnamese really didn't care. Since I however, was wearing sandals, and the meatballs weren't cooked, I thought it better that I be on my way. And so I departed.

Street Vendors

As you know, while I was in Hanoi, I visited the Vietnam Women's Museum.  While there, I viewed a short documentary which I found to be quite informative.  It's called Street Vendors - Their Voices and was produced by Rolf Jensen, a university professor and expert on Vietnam.  This is what I see everyday on the streets of Saigon.  If you've been reading this journal with interest, I highly recommend that you click on the link below and watch the 5 minute documentary.  It is subtitled in English and easy to watch.

 http://vimeo.com/31806802

Bright Lights, Big City

Saigon isn't an esthetically beautiful city. Its buildings are a mix of cement constructed hotels and tall apartments, some left-over French architecture, a few Chinese influenced structures and a few new, stylish high-rises. However, at night, once the sun goes down and the lights come on, the downtown area isn't visually boring.

Downtown HCMC - This bldg. changes color.

This hotel does too.

The lights on this night club change too.

This is the tallest bldg. in HCMC.  It reminds me of the IXE bldg. in DF.

One of several neon advertising signs in downtown HCMC.  It's like NYC!

Saigon Nightlife

Once the sun does goes down, the lights come on, and the temperature drops one or two degrees, the Saigonese come out to play. There's a very long park close to where I'm staying and at night it's full of life. There's a large play area for kids, a few covered areas where you can find a group of ladies doing aerobics or some sort of tai chi and another group taking dancing lessons, people playing badminton (without a net, though this is usually during the day) and countless young students either hanging out or playing Jianzi (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jianzi), which is extremely popular here. (It's essentially their version of hacky sack.)

Away from the immediate downtown area, you'll find countless street vendors selling all kinds of food for dinner, juice vendors, dessert vendors, etc. The Vietnamese love to eat on the street and you'll find them sitting on plastic, children-sized chairs at short tables. (There may be a direct connection to the love of squatting.) There's not a lot to do here in Saigon, but it's not a boring city either.