VIETNAMITAS-DINAMITAS

Traffic Jam!!!

There was no direct bus from Hong Kong to Hanoi, Vietnam, contrary to what Emi has been telling me. Luckily, we cleared that out before getting into China and got ourselves double entry visas for that country.  From Hong Kong there are only 2 options as far as getting into Northern Vietnam – going through southern China or flying. As you might imagine, flying was totally unacceptable for our budget, so it was bus or bus via China. It was going to be our first over-night bus trip, and what a joy it was to experience it with a Chinese transport company. It was paradise compared to all the other “sleeper buses” we took in South East Asia. The bus was new, spotlessly clean, and had real double deck beds wide enough space to accommodate 2 people! It also turned out that the roads in Southern China were very nicely paved and without much turns and curves so it didn’t feel like we were on a bus at all, which presented a perfect opportunity for watching a movie on our little Acer.

A Mobil Fruit Stand.

A movie and a few hours of sleep in we were at the Vietnam border. The border crossing was like any other, but the immigration control and the actual passport stamping was something special… First of all, you have to make it to the little window to hand in your passport, either by waiting in line, or just pushing your way through, as if the rest in line did not exist. Once at your target, somehow you start doubting if it is a good idea to turn your passport in because what you see through the window is a mountain of passports of all colors being stamped and passed over in all directions. You are supposed to submit your passport and wait at the other window where it is supposed to appear with all the necessary stamps and visas. Passport control, as most of us know, also implies “face control” where they match your passport photo with your actual face. Well, not in Vietnam! What matters is a passport and the entry fees you have paid, and there you go! Magically, our passports were into the chaos and back out and in our hand in no more than 30 minutes. The magic here must have had some connection with Emi’s 3 month beard. Contrary to Russia, having a beard and lots of body hair in Vietnam automatically makes you a super star. The Vietnamese of all ages and genders were staring at Emi with approving looks and fascinated smiles on their faces. They must have expedited out passport quickly and into the right hands just out of respect for his abundant hairiness!

Vietnamise Style U-HAUL.

Heading down to South East Asia we, of course, knew that accommodation, among other things, was very cheap there. Nevertheless, we were determined to continue with our couchsurfing home stays. This time, it was Katya from Ukraine who opened her doors for us. Katya, like many other expats in Vietnam, was an English teacher. As we learned later on, life as an English teacher in Vietnam is pretty sweet, with nice salaries and a prestigious social status. So, it is no wander that herds and herds of travel enthusiast, adventures and all sorts of cold hating white folks flock to Vietnam to spread the lingua franca of the current times. Somehow, this communist country places quite an important role on getting its population to master English. There is a great demand for English teachers and they are treated very well in Vietnam.

Farangs at Dolche Vita, no Less.

Nevertheless, despite the abundance of English schools and farangs (or gringos, or white foreigners) the Vietnamese don’t really speak English. I should correct myself, they all do try to speak it, but what comes out of their mouths is impossible to understand, so there is lots and lots of work for anyone whishing to try themselves in the education field. Weeks after our first entrance into Vietnam we were explained the basics of the Vietnamese language, after which it made it much easier to understand why the poor Vietnamese cannot, for the life of them, get their English sounding like they are speaking English. In Vietnamese, half of the consonants, that are perfectly normal to us, simply do not exist, and the Vietnamese can’t distinguish the sound of those consonants. So, for example, v, f and p sound the same to them!

Coca-Cola Delivery Truck.

Listening to all sorts of crazy expat stories while sipping another one of the 25 cent “bia hoi” bears I couldn’t stop thinking about our DC family’s dear friend Leo, who lived in Vietnam for 4 years. The whole time that we were in Vietnam, I saw Leo in every fair-skinned farang drinking a beer, eating a bun cha, or zipping around on a $5 per day rental motorbike. One time, I asked Leo why he left Vietnam, and he said: “I was going crazy, I had to leave”. I can only imagine the kind of trouble my dear friend and the rest of the farangs got and get into in Vietnam with all the money and the freedom of the young years on their hands… Oh my! The crazy mix of everything in the streets only hinted of the chaos Hanoi lifestyle could be.

A Mobil Coffee Shop.

There were motorbikes everywhere and you never knew if the drivers actually knew how to drive them. As we found out, in order to rent a moto all you need is $5 to pay for it. No one is going to ask you for driver’s license, insurance of anything of the sort. I read somewhere that all international drivers license are actually illegal and are not accepted in Vietnam and Cambodia, but in reality, no one cares about any drivers license, and the police are usually afraid to deal with the farangs because they don’t speak English. Most of the locals also don’t have any kind of license and many even drive bikes without any license plates! But again – anything goes in Vietnam. Things like, transporting on a 2 person motorbike a cargo of 10 cages full of live chickens; a live pig; a dead pig; a stack of crates full of beer and coca-cola; a sheet of glass for a storefront; an entire kitchen and a kiosk to sell the goods at any stop; 4-5 people, some of them holding I.V. bags for the others (it is true!), and so on...

A Corner Restaurant.

Surprisingly enough, accidents happen a lot less frequently in Vietnam as one would expect. Once we have gotten a “steel horse” of our own, we realized that one of the reasons for that was that everyone drives very slowly there. It is perfect for when you are learning how to drive a bike, or when you are doing some sightseeing, but not when you are trying to get from point A to point B. However, the biggest challenge is probably not the speed, but what you might encounter on the road. While on a highway (or something of its equivalent) you might see people driving in the opposite direction in your lane; people doing a U turn in the middle of the road; water buffalos, cows and pigs crossing your way, or taking a little siesta; and of course, lots and lots of Vietnamitas-Dinamitas (as Emi likes to call the Vietnamese) all wearing air masks, and some sort of pajama looking protective jackets.

Taking a Little Siesta.

Hanoi, like most other Asian cities, is famous for its bad air quality, however, I have discovered that it can easily compete with Moscow, or Buenos Aires for example. To me, the air in Hanoi did not feel any dirtier than in any other big city. It is just that the Vietnamese feel that it is essential to wear a face mask (and often an all covering pajama-style jacket) in the city to try to protect your lungs from all of the dust and pollution you breathe in otherwise. It certainly looks very strange and involuntarily makes you feel nervous, as if you were in the epicenter of a major epidemic area. Nonetheless, I think they are doing the right thing by trying to protect themselves, and more often than not I feel like wearing a facemask on the overcrowded streets of Buenos Aires where fumes are literally choking during peak hours.

My Favorite Squid Stand.

Pajama fashion is a special phenomenon in Vietnam that deserves a special note. First, I thought that all of the pajamas that I was seeing all around us were out and about because it was an early morning hour. As the day went on, though, the outfits did not change, and the women of all ages continued parading around their multicolored and diversely designed pajama suits. From day to day they changed them, as one would change regular clothing, which indicated that the pajamas were their regular clothes. I never found out where this latest fashion came from and how it became widely accepted, but it was definitely entertaining to find yourself surrounded by pajama fashionistas in the middle of a huge metropolis.

No Worries! Trains don't Come Very Often.

Even though Hanoi is a big city it doesn’t feel that way, despite the never ending chaos in the streets. To me, the reason why it didn’t feel like a big city was because the people continue living the way they live in the villages – with all activities happening in the street, in font of their houses. In fact, in many houses the street is an extension of their living rooms. In most houses, the façade part of the building at the ground floor is a wide garage-like gate that stays open the whole day, as the inhabitants go on with their home lives in the living room space – eating their meals, watching TV, playing with children, or arguing. In some houses, the front entrance is blocked by an abundance of very low plastic table and chairs, which serve as restaurant seating. In Vietnam, most of the people eat in the street, since the food is really cheap and is available 24/7 on every corner.  We discovered that the low seating was not something exclusive to impromptu house restaurants, but was the way/ level at which the Vietnamese did everything. Somehow, for them it is more comfortable to prepare dinner, wash dishes, or do anything else in a squatting position, rather than to do it all standing at a normal size table.

PJs Galore!!!

It was all very different and very exotic and I constantly felt like I was in some parallel world where everything was done in a strangely distinct manner that I never knew existed. These few days in Hanoi ware like a brief introduction for what we were about to experience in those last few months of our trip. South East Asia was opening its doors for us and we were eyes and ears trying to absorb and understand what it was all about.