2) The city

3) The Independece Palace

4) TET 2007, Nguyen Hue and the Year of the Pig

5) TET 2007, Year of the Pig

6) Con Dao

7) Public Holiday

Helemts on sale

9) Sunset over HCMC

10) Phu Quoc

11) Marble Mountain

12) Hoi An

13) Hoi An

14) Hoi An

15) Xe Om in Mui Ne

16) Dalat market street

17) Nha Trang

18) At home

19) Fishing Boats, Mui Ne

20) Beach Street

This was the moment it all happened…

 

Chi’s brother, Jean-Baptiste, wasn’t shy or awkward at this emotional moment, rather dignified and mature. He held Chi as she greeted him. I am in the background, choking on the local pollution or something. Not sure. After the meeting it was five days of French style hospitality with Chi’s brother’s large family, meeting various Aunts and Uncles, culminating in an 18 person luncheon at the family home. We ate sumptuously, we (or at least I) drank copiously, with lunch blending into dinner, after meal spirits blending into aperitifs. We spent three nights in a chalet overlooking Geneva and Mount Blanc. A far cry from the dusty highways and manic streets of Saigon.

 

We even managed to sneak in a trip to Switzerland to wander around Lake Geneva and gawp at ridiculously expensive watches, suits and cars.

Thanks to the local knowledge of our hosts, Chi was smuggled into this exclusive corner of Europe over the border via a back road, no visa. Despite our attempts to attract the attention of the Swiss gendarmes , she returned to France successfully.

Previously, we had enjoyed several enjoyable but expensive nights in Paris.

 

In the Louvre, here’s what you face if you want to get close to the Mona Lisa. 

Through an arrangement with a friend, Dai was adopted by a French family. Here they are, in HCMC, visiting Chi’s house. Right is Chi’s mother, left her Aunt who cared for Dai through the first year.

Chi’s mother insisted that no money was involved, the only condition was that the families stay in touch, which they have done without fail over the years, sending photos, letters, cards and emails. The pain of such a decision was tempered by the knowledge that Dai was being bought up in a happy family, getting a good education and enjoying all the things he wouldn’t have had in Vietnam.

Meanwhile, Chi and her mother lived together. Chi revealed to me only yesterday that her mother had seriously considered a similar fate for her, but in the end decided against it. By Grade 6, Chi was shopping at the market and preparing basic meals for herself and her mother. By the middle of Grade 8, she was working at the Saigon Horse Racing track selling tickets at weekends.

Over in France Jean-Baptiste (Dai) was continuing his growth and education.

First day at school…

Today Jean-B is a strapping 15 years old and doing well at school. Chi is so immensely proud she is fit to burst.

A week today, Chi and I will fly to Paris. After three nights wandering the streets and savouring the atmosphere we will catch a train three hours south east to the town of Besancon. Here Chi will be reunited with her brother for the first time since he left Vietnam as a one year old baby. Discussion of this event is already banned in our house for fear of the waterworks starting. It will be an emotional few days for us when we drive to stay in Gex, the hometown of JB and family, up in the mountains of the Jura region just a few kilometers from Geneva.

For Chi especially, I hope this is the start of a great relationship with her brother and his wonderful family — the heartbreak she feels from what happened will I hope in some way be forgotten as they meet for the first time as adults. . The events 15 years ago shaped Chi’s entire life and personality — and all she wants most of all is a happy family. It’s something she has missed out on for so long.

It is also a handy way of making an entry for this months $100 prize on the blog competition over at Expat Advisory (see post below!). If you are a blog writer in Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos or Korea, GET INVOLVED (but write something low quality so I can still win). The $100 prize would boost your monthly income by $100 for a month - not bad.

An Everyday Journey - II

I climb from my bed bleary eyed and trudge to the kitchen to gingerly sip on some hot green tea, prepared earlier by my wife (she’s always up earlier than me). If it’s one of those days when I was too lazy to do some morning exercise, then a few stretches have to suffice. I need to get cracking – don the work clothes, pick the least smelly pair of socks and splash my face with water. Grab the keys, money, and the godforsaken parking ticket – always losing it.

Down in the elevator and out into the parking garage. It’s cramped down here, likelihood is that my bike is buried behind three Hondas, each weighing as much as a baby elephant. It’s one of the worst things about living in these apartments that sit on top of a smelly canal which runs directly around the building. Fortunately, my pad is high enough to be above the whiff.

Sunglasses on. Helmet on. Out onto the street, immediately passing the countless array of coffee shops that smatter ground level around the huge apartment block. A few seconds later the full reality of the early morning traffic slaps me in the face as I join the flow. Straight into the routine: pull the throttle, glide, pull the throttle, glide, weave this way, weave that way. As soon as I’m moving, I’m stopped, firstly on the bridge just outside my residence. Some days, the water on the canal is so still I can see a perfect reflection of the small trees that line the bank. My drifting thoughts are abruptly shattered as the traffic groans forward with a monstrous communal roar. At this time in the morning, cream clad traffic cops override the signals, commanding red and green with the flick of a switch. Drivers wait on the starting line, suspiciously eyeing their imposing compatriots, waiting for the movement towards that magical gray switch box. And they’re off again — but not at any particular pace.

Queuing at just another junction, it feels like I could be part of a Hollywood disaster movie. It’s like the whole of the city is trying to escape a doomsday event behind them, using the same road. Ugly green buses crammed with people line the street while noisy motorbikes supporting all manner of pillion swarm like an army of ants. Cyclists join the fray, and seem completely unaware of the lunacy around them as they wobble their way up onto the peddles. A droning crescendo signifies another gargantuan effort by the masses — the process of inching closer to an unknown final destination is once again underway. The engines spew clouds of nasty chemicals into the air, clearly visible in drifting clouds. I hold my breath through the worst, for what good it does.

Down Hai Ba Trung, onto Nguyen Dinh Chieu. Not too bad this road, even in rush hour. I swing left onto Nam Khi Khoi Nghai. On occasion I share a nod with the boys at the motorcycle garage – sometimes, time permitting, I’ll grab an oil change and a bike wash here. Crossing over Nguyen Thi Minh Khai into District 1, the street leads down past the Reunification Palace. Traffic slows as people take time to gaze in through the gates. Some early morning tourists are wondering around in shorts, cameras hanging from necks. I’m catapulted back in time. How alien this morning chaos must seem to them, how normal it is now to me. Seeing them often returns that smell, that feeling, that taste of what it is to experience Vietnam for the first time. I can’t hold onto the nostalgia for long, I’m soon waiting to dash across the wide expanse that is Le Loi. On the street side, a breakfast noodle stand sits in front of a pastel yellow, rain worn wall. It’s the kind of scene common on postcards, but no time to dwell, must push on.

Eventually I break free from the shackles of the city center, passing the construction site of the city’s largest engineering project…maybe one day the tunnel under the river will really become true. At last, after twenty minutes, the Yamaha has a chance to stretch its legs. The bike turns onto Nguyen Tat Thanh. The sun has risen high and beams directly along the long stretch of this dangerous thoroughfare, reflecting off the asphalt. Heavy trucks sound their horns as they ruthlessly scream by. I pick up the speed, but not without caution, hunching over the handlebars keeping the kind of lookout that a circling hawk would be proud of. The world and his wife seem to participate in this frenzied up-and-down, from 40 foot juggernauts to 50cc machines carrying huge baskets of fruit; from the blue overalled, yellow helmeted construction workers on their Hondas to the slow moving labourers with their motorized wheelbarrows. The heat, dust and noise on this street doesn’t sit well – luckily it’s still a little cooler in the AM. To try this in the afternoon you may as well put yourself inside a tumble dryer on a hot wash, having rubbed detergent into your eyes before you climbed in.

I cross the bridge near the Tan Thuan Industrial Area, and motor along Nguyen Van Linh Parkway. Nearly there. Cruising to a halt at the junction outside FV hospital, I take the chance to lean on the handlebars. I watch the red light counter tick down from 30 as cars and bikes sail past me regardless. No matter, the final stretch of the journey – the last 25 minutes have been like wading through waist deep water, but now it’s like sprinting along a deserted beach, barely leaving a footprint. I take in the remaining green patches of land in this rapidly developing area whilst gulping down lungfuls of clean air as if I’ve just emerged from the desert and been handed an ice cold beaker of fresh lemonade. The light glints off the river which snakes away to the south through a landscape of tropical marshes.

The morning ride to work may only take around 30 minutes, but in that time I travel through the heart of a bustling city rush hour to it’s very edges where I can see the green countryside coming to meet sparkling, still vacant apartment blocks which now scatter HCM’s first true suburb – it’s a vision of the future yet come to pass.

Ohh shall I, shan’t I, HOW MUCH! 40,000 VND a piece actually.

In action:

In my opinion, I think they are PATHETIC - pathetic is one of my family’s favourite words. And rightly so. Chi generally agrees, my students seem split down the middle between PATHETIC and stylish/fashionable/acceptable on a practical level (keeping sun off face etc). Not having that.

Possibly even worse : the hat helmet. For the boys…

And for all your helmet needs, here’s the guy you want to see….

Out back, a couple of huge pigs. Uncle rears and sells them, along with brewing wine and selling that too.

Grandma’s land : Tropical. You can just make out her house in the background.

The family : Grandma sits with five of her eleven children (two different husbands). Four of her daughters stand in a line behind her, and one son standing behind Chi. Chi’s mother is second from Grandma in the line, although it could be any of those aunts considering the resemblance!

I asked Chi what her family did during the war. Were they troubled by it or involved, especially considering where her mother’s family lived in Cu Chi? She explained that her grandmother and family lived in the residential areas of Cu Chi which were away from the fighting. She casually mentioned that she suspected her grandmother and friends sold heroin to US soldiers. Many sources claim that up to 15% of servicemen were hooked on heroin by the end of their service. For anyone who hasn’t, pick up the story of Frank Lucas, the movie ‘American Gangster’.

Chi’s father is from countryside near Ben Tre in the Mekong Delta, where he has a fish farm. His father, Chi’s grandfather, was Chinese and boasted four wives. Being south of Saigon I guess they were largely unaffected by the war. I’d be interested in learning more of her family tree, but I’m not sure this is a well known concept or if local authorities keep the kind of records you’d need to go beyond the living relatives and their knowledge. But I’d be interested to hear of the heritage of some of the reader’s families out there…

Finally, I had a morning totally dedicated to driving around the city, researching for three or four upcoming blog posts, and snapping the photographs. I saw before me the captivating scenes of city life in the grip of a festive fever, Saigon in full boisterous flow. It has been one of those days that reminded me - no matter how much my clothes smell of petrol or how much grit I comb out of my eyebrows, no matter how many articulated lorries blast their horns at me, no matter how sunburnt my nose gets from long drives, no matter how many times I nearly get killed by (a. bus b. bad drivers c. taxi), no matter how badly the canal below my apartments stinks of poo, no matter how many beaver sized rats I send scurrying from nibbling on my break cables down in the parking, no matter how many people point at me and yell ‘You’ just because I am white (I could go on), no matter, it’s water under the bridge. Saigon is the boss, I am just a permanent visitor. It’s learning to appreciate it everyday as when you first saw it, that’s the trick.

So - pictures people, pictures.

I head out of my apartments and weave down a busy lane. It’s 10.30 and usually the fruit sellers are packed up and gone. Today, they are all there, and more than usual - the sidewalks are jammed (I have to chuckle after the recent debate on street traders). Out onto Hai Ba Trung, flower sellers are everywhere, the street is ablaze with bright yellows. A crowded bakery flushes it’s jam onto the street (TRAFFIC not strawberry).

The small park in Tan Binh is transformed into a market for hoa dao (peach blossom) and kumquat bushes.

It’s time for not only a tree, but a new, well, anything it seems. Flowers cover the large area in the background, in the foreground a man is selling terrapins. Remember, a turtle is for life, not just for new year and then to be found a week later wedged in the water filter.

New jeans…

Down on Nguyen Hue, the usual floral displays the length of the street attract the crowds.

The atmosphere is undeniable. Tomorrow is New Years Eve, which means a lunch that would floor a crew of rutting Rhino back from a hard days work at the swamp (E Blackadder). Evening time means hitting the town with the greatest natural advert for Honda and Yamaha ever, a scene which one of my friends teaching down at VUS (Tom) said ‘must be one of the wonders of the world, there’s nothing like it in any other city’. That, my friends, is fuh real.

On New Years Day I will be heading to Cu Chi in a minibus with assorted sundry to Grandma in law’s house - undoubtedly pictures and anecdotes will arise. See you then, and happy new year!

People queue. British people are famous for queuing. We queue just to get into another queue. We queue to ask about where we should queue. We separate queuing people with ropes and guide them with signs. We spilt queues when they get too big and start them again on somewhere else. We zig-zag queues to accommodate all the queuing people. Personally I had forgotten about this phenomena. However frustrating a queue may be, I prefer it to total and utter disorganization - i.e. Viet Nam. Not to say Vietnamese are disorganized, it is all for a reason…

Mounting experience with Vietnamese bureaucracy, most recently the registration of a motorbike, has exposed me to the systems within it. And the one rule of Vietnamese bureaucracy is : I don’t know if there are any rules actually. Registering a bike seems like it should be a formality. It isn’t. Arriving on a narrow main road deep into Binh Thanh District, a shop on one side of the street is the ‘fixer’. Despite being a privately owned business, ALL bikes being registered must visit this place first (or one of the shops offering the same service). I’m sure the following scene is repeated throughout the city. Around ten young men work in the shop, along with the older administrative staff. They take off the front panel on the bike where the serial number is and prepare some paperwork for the police station across the road. Of course, no queue here. Just a ‘who can shove to the front and get someone’s attention first’. With roughly three new motorbikes arriving every minute, it’s a lot of fun. Once they have done their bit and claimed 80,000 for ‘insurance’ (although I am not holding out hope of a payout), you can take the bike across the road to see the police, who read the number. Again, the ‘queue’ is just a stressful crush of bikes attacking a small portal from all angles. After this it’s back across the road to the shop, where they offer to attach your numberplate to the bike (and make a killing by overcharging, a local garage will do it cheaper).

Stress. A queue is stressful, but a non-numbered, non-queue, non-order system? Which would you prefer? Some are catching on - Vietnam airways have a numbered ticket system, but you often see customers unfamiliar with it. In the government office for registration of births, deaths and marriages there is a numbered ticket system. In the office for registration of business licenses, there is not. What there is : no air conditioning and a small waiting room crammed full of, on estimate, about 200 people everyday, all with no system as to who is next.

Corruption. The guys in the motorbike registration ’shop’ pay the police to provide this service. We ‘pay them’ as does the garage who sold the bike to us. Essentially, it is around 20 jobs and a lot of money changing hands simply so a lot of money changes hands. The whole registration system could be overhauled, computerized, not even touched by the consumer. Bikes should be plated by the time they reach the showroom — but then who’s going to make any money out of that? The guys in the business registration office — they are on (seriously) low salary, so they have to make more money somehow. How are you going to get served quickly? You have to know someone. How do you know someone? You get an agent to help you. They do the paperwork, and as part of their job, they should have a contact (who obviously they pay). Problem is, some wily people change the staff in the office every three months, so you’ve got to be on the ball. We had an agent, but after a recent staff change he was stuck and Chi waited one whole afternoon and a morning before being served. The staff in the office have another trick up their sleeve to make money - they pass on your details to the newspapers. By law, a new company must make three announcements in a newspaper. Suddenly, the same day as your application was processed, newspapers start calling asking for you to place your announcement in their paper. Says something about your rights of privacy here as well! So, once again, an overhaul of the system would mean a lot of people (office staff, agents, journalists) lose out on a lot of business. It is not so easy to dismantle the apparatus of corruption, millions will be affected.

It is only the government who can set an example, starting first with their administrative offices, and show the people that they respect them, they are honest and they are professional. After being talked to (once again) like a piece of discarded rubbish by a customs official at the airport, a guy probably younger than me but feeling extremely powerful in his green uniform, and after experiencing all of the above, it is clear to see that Vietnam still has a long way to go. And I’m not even referring to my own standards, my wife and her friends discussed the bike registration system last night, lamenting the fact that it has not changed a single bit in the last five years - “no improvement” they murmured sadly. Someone, somewhere, has to be motivated for change but, stuck in a system of payoffs, kickbacks and shortcuts, who would risk their livelihood, no matter how they make it, to battle such an enormous system that pervades almost every aspect of society?

Unsurprisingly, paperwork is a big part of the process of getting licensed in Nam. My wife may have prepared all the documents for the marriage certificate, but the business stuff was a step too far. We had a company arrange everything for us. First, you must apply online with the Investment Project Department. Once they reply with an approval of the name and nature of business, then you have the privilege of waiting for a really long time in a unbearably crowded, unorganised and unairconditioned office on Le Thanh Ton. If you’re lucky, as my wife was, you’ll be asked to come back the next day after an entire afternoons jostling for attention. Apparently, they change the staff every few months at the office to avoid business agents (those helping people to start up) becoming too ‘friendly’ with the government staff. Our agents ‘man’ was no longer working there, hence the long wait. When you finally emerge from the bowels of the building, looking like a businessman who just survived a plane crash and subsequent mauling from a leopard before emerging from the jungle, at least clasped in one hand is the legal document that made it all worth it, a business license.

The friendly, pleasant, and customer orientated staff at this delightful office have another network going as well. When they get hold of new business details, they phone up their mates at various newspapers. As by law, a new company must announce itself by way of one of four or five government newspapers, there is some competition as to which rag gets the juicy details. Cue unsolicited phone calls from journos to home and mobile at whatever time of day they feel like, and so the country ticks on.

Now, it’s a jolly saunter down to the local police station, whistling ‘Always Look On The Bright Side of Life’ as you go, double skipping past cheery mechanics as they wave their oily hands in a toothless greeting, nodding approval at screeching schoolchildren, and finally laughing off the twisted ankle from the pothole in the road (better take the motorbike next time). Mr policeman will make a stamp for you. This is very important. You need it to stamp things, so now you can make paperwork too!

After this, get yourself over to the exhilarating tax department and get issued (as if you don’t want to) with a tax code. Now dealings are handed over to your local tax center. From here, paperwork is needed to apply and pay tax for the first year, and also the first quarter, totaling 1,800,000 VND. Then, the jovial tax lady pays a visit to your office, just to make sure you’re not fibbing, and you really have a company. Best to hide the choccies before she comes over, she likes them she does! Finally you can buy the mythical (but actually real) book of red invoices, the VAT book.

Now, that’s all the boring stuff.

Our company is yet to start operating, but is oh so nearly ready.

First, you need an idea. I know! Tourism…let’s jump on that gravy train. I know about traveling. I know about backpackers. I know about Vietnam. Makes sense doesn’t it? Tourists need something a little different from what’s on offer. So first, come up with some ideas and a name. We toyed for a while. I liked ‘Kims Tours’, but it was already taken (for the slow ones, that was a JOKE). Eventually we went with ‘Connections’ (Kết Nối). Next, ask a nifty friend to design a logo. I wanted some hands shaking with the Viet Nam flag incorporated into the design. My designer just kind of snorted in an effort to control himself, which was better than laughing in my face, but he used his talent to work with my idea and draw me up our logo.

Next, you need some publicity shots (luckily, the designer is a photographer as well…..)

An office helps, why not use your house. If you buy a fax machine, you officially have an office (I think it’s in the dictionary).

Then, you need some business cards. Sounds easy doesn’t it?

Then, get a website done. Here’s where you can find out what the hell a company does, that is, if they just seems to waffle on in some unofficial blog without ever really saying what they do. www.connectionsvietnam.com (you are the first to see it and it isn’t even out of testing you lucky sods! - so excuse some minor errors for the time being, most of it is done now).

Lastly, get a cheapo sign printed and blu-tac it to the door. Now you are definitely a certified company ready for customers. All you have to do now is find some. Hello? Hellooooooo……?

It may be surprising to arrive in this Asian metropolis to find a bevy of chic cafes and restaurants, serving up cuisine from all corners of the earth. The growth of the scene has been spurred by the burgeoning number of tourists visiting the city, and also the band of nearly 100,000 thousand expats who live here. Divided into geographical locations, the majority of eateries are clustered in the city centre along Dong Khoi, Dong Du and Mac Thi Buoi Streets, with another pocket five minutes away along Thai Van Lung and Le Thanh Ton Streets. The backpackers area of the city also boasts a wide selection of restaurants and bars, centered around De Tham and Bui Vien Streets.

The abundance of East Asian restaurants around Thai Van Lung and Le Thanh Ton can be traced to the vast number of Korean and Japanese residents. Whilst the French influence is still evident at places like Le Jardin, new fusions are also encroaching, including Cuban, Spanish, Mexican and Middle Eastern.

Aside from the dearth of East Asian restaurants, almost any other kind of Asian food can be found in District One, including excellent Chinese, Thai and Indian options, with Malaysian, Cambodian and Taiwanese thrown in as well. The Vietnamese scene is naturally expansive. The range includes traditional street food vendors typically serving one or two snacks, small street side restaurants often serving a specialty such as pho or seafood, mid range restaurants with enormous menus and good value, and finally finishing with 5 star luxury fit for a king. Vietnamese food is often reinvented in higher end restaurants to be more suitable to the foreign palette, so bear this mind and be aware that the real taste of Vietnam is not as simple as dining on Dong Khoi St.

The western selection consists of the inevitable, a collection of ‘pub’ style menus serving burgers, ribs, and cooked breakfasts, along with healthier options which champion posh sounding salads and exotic fruit smoothies. There are some real gems that take a little digging to uncover, usually secreted in Saigon’s alleyways, away from the main road.

Coffee shop enthusiasts will not be disappointed either. Despite no Starbucks, Vietnam has its own version, Highlands Coffee. Highlands is a popular choice for its cheap set lunches and home produced selection of coffee, and usually occupies a busy city centre location. Illy Café is another chain which on top of its own stores also ‘provides’ the coffee at many other smaller locations – when you see the small red Illy sign hanging outside you’ll know this is the case.

Other Vietnamese style coffee shops are large, brash roadside extravaganzas, places to see and be seen for the trendy Vietnamese patrons. You won’t run into any of these in the city centre, although they are dotted across other parts of District 1 and especially District 3.

This central area of the city also houses numerous bars usually frequented by Saigon’s foreigners-in-residence. The Aussies have a couple of places to hang out in Café Latin and Blue Gecko. Underground is a London themed bar. All these could be labeled as ‘pub’, but the most recent diversion of Saigon’s nightlife has followed the trendy route of wine bar / club, such as Manna on Dong Khoi St. Don’t be surprised to pay a price that is definitely not aligned with the local currency, more the international dollar rate. Other than this, there are the hotel bars, such as Level 23 at the Sheraton or the infamous Saigon Saigon at the Caravelle, both of which command a spectacular view over the city.

Post midnight, options become limited. The most famous of all Saigon nightspots is Apocalypse Now, a disco in every sense. The wine club crowd will be making their way to Q Bar, a small but popular late night bar, or Lush, the upscale version of Apocalypse. Some may head over to Pham Ngu Lao to continue festivities.

The Pham Ngu Lao St area is a typical travellers den, the ‘Khao Sarn Road’ of Ho Chi Minh City. Inevitably there is a plethora of restaurants, bars, and cafes, as well as ubiquitous accommodation and travel agencies. The eateries of this area differ slightly from the their town centre counterparts; restaurants are cheap and open air providing much better value for money, although of course quality may be compromised. The bastions of the areas nightlife are Go 2 and Allez Boo, large street side bars where backpackers gather to shout over the music and play pool until the early hours. The area has a handful of smaller hole in the wall bars each retaining their own loyal band of patrons. Le Pub and Bobby Brewers provide a more stylish venue, catering to those who prefer the atmosphere in the ‘Pham’ but also enjoy a classier environment than a plastic chair on the street. These kind of establishments may signal the future of the area.

For a taste of true Vietnamese nightlife you could try America in the Windsor Plaza, or Volcano. By the selection of $7000 plus motorbikes in the parking area, it’s deducible that the people inside aren’t short of a few bucks, and they like to show it off too. The dancing is frenetic, the music loud and the atmosphere highly strung.