What I really wanted to talk about was our trip to the hospital. I thought I was required to have a medical, but it seems to depend on where your spouse is from.

Hospitals - nasty

Since Chi is from HCMC, I only had to have the ‘mental’ health check. This was just one of those ‘experiences’ which will stick in my mind. The only other time I’ve been to a Vietnamese hospital was when I got a health check for work permit requirements last year.

I had to sneak this photo as to my left were two more desks, one with the nurse processing documents, and one old guy who was reading a newspaper. His desk was exactly as bland as the one above - “What the hell does he do all day?”I was thinking. It looked like the office had been deserted for 30 years and they’d just come back to work. Once the nurse cleared our paperwork we were waved to the guy at the desk. He took my passport and had a good look at it. He began…”Are you, errrr, hmmm, from Northern Ireland?”. “No”, I replied sincerely, “I am from England”. “Hmm”. More scanning of my passport. “Errrr, are you, umm, still living in London?”. Once again I replied nicely, “No, I am working in Ho Chi Minh City”. This intense physcological profiling continued until he was satisfied that I wasn’t off my rocker. Safe to say, me and the misses both passed with flying colors.

So, we had the dossier of mindless red tape,otherwise known as the marrige application, all ready to hand in. Chi organised everything herself bless her and left me to simply drive around, pick things up, and smile when neccessary. She has been ‘overly generous’ (if you catch my drift) to certian members of officialdom. At the office where all types of registration takes place (births, deaths, marriages etc),located on Pasteur, we once again came face to face with our nemisis desk sucker, name unknown. We’ve been seperated by perspex with this man three times and not once has he made eye contact. He seemed very content with his level of malice which wasn’t just reserved for us but other happy soon-to-be married couples. After shuffling through our well prepared paperwork he throws the folder back at us and writes a list of what we still need to do. I tell him he’s not very helpful, he says “don’t understand”, at which Chi later quipped “doesn’t understand without any money”. Chi beavered for the rest of the day and furnished the folder with its required nonsense, we were then ready for a return to see Mr Happy. This time he had simply run out of things that were missing…..Chi had back-up copies of pretty much anything he could ask for all stamped and translated and notorized ready to shove down his throat if the chance arrived. Reluctantly he processed the application.

I’ve gotten distracted here - what I really wanted to talk about was the interview. As we’re leaving the office Chi says we have an interview scheduled for next week. We both laugh. An interview? To get married! WHAT! OK, whatever, lets play along…then I came across this article today: Vietnam Tightens Regulations On International Marriges

Extract:

Under the decree, within 20 days of the date of the receipt of marriage registration dossiers and fees, the Judicial Department of a city or province must conduct a person-to-person interview with both applicants.
The interview is designed to check whether the two applicants agree to the marriage of their own accord and how much they can communicate

So, hopefully, like the mental health check, we can get through this one as well (ow! that was my tounge in my cheek).

I recently discovered that most people use a company to organise all the documentation for their wedding applications for them. Not Chi, she organised everything herself. Apparently it’s quite tricky…..

We dropped into our favourite public office for our interview yesterday afternoon. The new rules. Firstly, again without eye contact, we were told that we needed to have a translator for me. Would have been nice if Mr Happy had told us that last time, but Mrs Happy informed us through what I can only describe as a forced scowl. So Chi calls up her friend from work and he comes down to the office to help us out. We sit and wait and eventually Chi gets called in. She had a 30 minute grilling - the only thing missing was the bright lamp and windowless room. I won’t go into the details of what he asked but it was all highly personal, and some of it, in my opinion, highly inappropriate. Stopping short of what color my grandfather’s living room is painted, Chi was asked if the people she had invited to her house and travlled to Phu Quoc with over Christmas and New Year in 2005 were really my family - she described her incredulousness to me. Is he serious? I can speak English. I saw them talking together for 2 weeks. I went to Phu Quoc Island with them for 3 days. I saw their passports. He looks exactly like his Dad for GOD SAKE! He then went on to describe to her what would happen if we failed the interview; once again Chi related her feelings to me and it requires some brain-racking to find synonyms for incredulous which I have already used…..ah yes, here we go, flabbergasted, dumbfounded, astonished and thunderstruck. How could we fail? We can communicate. We have no age gap to speak of. We have lots of evidence of our relationship. “Just for example….I have to tell you” he says.

My interview was much more humane, although that may only have been because the office was due to close at 5.00 and I sat down at about 4.30 (we arrived at 2.15). It may also be the norm, and the officials are much more interested in what she knows about me than vice versa. All I know is that this whole process has drilled my better half into the ground and she came out of it a little frazzled and definitely stressed out; it’s a little too premature to be relieved, we find out if the interview was successful on the 7th September.

Here it is in all it’s bureaucratic glory. We’ve finally burst free from the assemblge of red tape which has bound us since April. Although we’ll be celebrating tonight, in our minds it’s not done until the wedding party later in October. However, we are of course very happy to have gotten this over and done with! I feel I had to blank out some personal details because I am petrified of lonely Internet cyberloonies who will stalk me, yes, I’m talking to YOU. It was strange coming out of the office as a legally married man and then heading off back to work as did the misses. We did manage to squeeze in a matrimonial bowl of pho of which I took a picture in a bid to emulate those countless images on drool-worthy food blogs such as Sticky Rice.

Yes, one of the most popular posts from my old blog the final word (in Saigon).

Getting married in a communist country that is still developing is just as much fun as you are probably thinking it is.

I had five post altogether, so it is kind of a series. Here is the link to the links. Yes, I had to do it like this, back in my old school blogger days.

So, we leave the house and still the paparazzi wouldn’t leave us alone.

We drive to the Majestic Hotel, where we check into our complementary, windowless room secreted in the arse of the hotel, next to the staircase that leads to the health club. Call down the parents to join us in guzzling a bottle of champagne, and then head up to the restaurant in time for 6.00.

We stand by the doors and welcome the guests as they arrive.

Now it’s time for a caption competition: Am I thinking 1) ‘Who are these people?!’ or 2) ‘That looks like about 200,000 in that envelope, ok, you can come in.’

Here we try and copy our wedding picture. Not too bad, although my head is way off.

So I’m bouncing around the room when Chi says me - “Come on, the ceremony’s about to start”. I’m like - ‘huh?’. I put down my 12th ice cold glass of Tiger on the nearest table just as I get yanked by the wrist and the lights go out — a lady’s voice announces us and to my horror, on comes the intro to ‘Eye of the Tiger’. Duh k duk k duk k duk k DUK, DUK DUK DUK, DUK DUK DUK, DUK DUK DEEERRRRRR……..immediately I motion to the guy at the CD player that I will hang him if he doesn’t cut the music. Much amuesment, especially it seemed at the table where my family were sat. Funny that. Anyway, the M.C’s proceeded with a diatribe that would have made Cupid himself snap his arrows and clip his wings, whilst I did my best to ignore them and look cool on the stage. Then, we toast.

And then, we get smoked out by the dry ice. So romantic!

I hope you got the general idea, plenty more pics of the 150 guests who eventually turned out, but they slot into the ‘Nobody cares what you had for lunch’ category as easily as a warm knife slides through flesh…no, sorry,…..I mean butter.

Today is my new wifes birthday, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY HONEY! Here is a picture of you doing what you do best, smiling!

The car brought me and my parents to the alley that leads to Chi’s house, my helpers for the day followed up in a wagon behind. Traditionally, the groom brings eight trays laden with gifts for the brides family. Here’s me and my guys lining up in the correct order - my parents first, then me, then the rest. The trays also had to arrive at the house in a certain order, so the most important two went to my brother and sister, stood behind me.

The procession got going once a delegation from the bride’s house had straightened our lapels. Does this look like a sight that would halt half of Binh Thanh district in its tracks, cause it did.

Next we turn the corner and are greeted by Chi’s helpers for the day — here my sister and friends arriving.

Inside the arrangements are simple. I stand in the corner. My parents sit at the table with her parents. My boys line the wall sat on plastic stalls. The other half of the room is taken up with Chi’s relatives and friends. All in all around 30 people in a very small room on a hot day — number of fans avaliable : 1. Everybody is ready, and Chi comes from upstairs to join me. First I present her with the manly bouquet I had carried across town.

Next the trays were uncovered to reveal their sumptuous contents — fruit, wine, cake, more cake and some cakes.

Next, if memory serves correctly, we handed out symbolic cups of wine to the folks. My memory is only hazy due to heat exhaustion. It was the hottest wedding ceremony on record. 30 people in a brightly lit room in the middle of the day in Vietnam with no aircon — not a good idea — and of course there’s nothing like being the center of attention to add an extra bead of sweat to your brow. I was continually being handed small paper tissues to stem the flow, but even a 5 star bath towel would’ve struggled with that job.

Next, the rings went on

And then the old man was called on to make a speech. Fully unprepared, he did a good job, despite the cause of my amusement in this picture, heckling from my brother.

So that’s about it. Here’s what it looked like from above.

And here’s my boys tucking into the wedding cake — from right to left — Bernard and Richard from the Raiders, Gabe who is a teaching colleague, my brother Jamie, my old school friend and best mate who somehow managed to make it to Vietnam James, and finally captain of the Raiders Pierre.

Cheers boys!

Part 6 & 7 to follow this week.

I recently discovered that most people use a company to organise all the documentation for their wedding applications for them. Not Chi, she organised everything herself. Apparently it’s quite tricky…..

We dropped into our favourite public office for our interview yesterday afternoon. The new rules. Firstly, again without eye contact, we were told that we needed to have a translator for me. Would have been nice if Mr Happy had told us that last time, but Mrs Happy informed us through what I can only describe as a forced scowl. So Chi calls up her friend from work and he comes down to the office to help us out. We sit and wait and eventually Chi gets called in. She had a 30 minute grilling - the only thing missing was the bright lamp and windowless room. I won’t go into the details of what he asked but it was all highly personal, and some of it, in my opinion, highly inappropriate. Stopping short of what color my grandfather’s living room is painted, Chi was asked if the people she had invited to her house and travlled to Phu Quoc with over Christmas and New Year in 2005 were really my family - she described her incredulousness to me. Is he serious? I can speak English. I saw them talking together for 2 weeks. I went to Phu Quoc Island with them for 3 days. I saw their passports. He looks exactly like his Dad for GOD SAKE! He then went on to describe to her what would happen if we failed the interview; once again Chi related her feelings to me and it requires some brain-racking to find synonyms for incredulous which I have already used…..ah yes, here we go, flabbergasted, dumbfounded, astonished and thunderstruck. How could we fail? We can communicate. We have no age gap to speak of. We have lots of evidence of our relationship. “Just for example….I have to tell you” he says.

My interview was much more humane, although that may only have been because the office was due to close at 5.00 and I sat down at about 4.30 (we arrived at 2.15). It may also be the norm, and the officials are much more interested in what she knows about me than vice versa. All I know is that this whole process has drilled my better half into the ground and she came out of it a little frazzled and definitely stressed out; it’s a little too premature to be relieved, we find out if the interview was successful on the 7th September.

I’ve gotten distracted here - what I really wanted to talk about was the interview. As we’re leaving the office Chi says we have an interview scheduled for next week. We both laugh. An interview? To get married! WHAT! OK, whatever, lets play along…then I came across this article today: Vietnam Tightens Regulations On International Marriges

Extract:

Under the decree, within 20 days of the date of the receipt of marriage registration dossiers and fees, the Judicial Department of a city or province must conduct a person-to-person interview with both applicants.
The interview is designed to check whether the two applicants agree to the marriage of their own accord and how much they can communicate

So, hopefully, like the mental health check, we can get through this one as well (ow! that was my tounge in my cheek).

What I really wanted to talk about was our trip to the hospital. I thought I was required to have a medical, but it seems to depend on where your spouse is from. Since Chi is from HCMC, I only had to have the ‘mental’ health check. This was just one of those ‘experiences’ which will stick in my mind. The only other time I’ve been to a Vietnamese hospital was when I got a health check for work permit requirements last year. This was quite a similar looking place so I took a few snaps :

The office we entered looked something like this:

I had to sneak this photo as to my left were two more desks, one with the nurse processing documents, and one old guy who was reading a newspaper. His desk was exactly as bland as the one above - “What the hell does he do all day?”I was thinking. It looked like the office had been deserted for 30 years and they’d just come back to work. Once the nurse cleared our paperwork we were waved to the guy at the desk. He took my passport and had a good look at it. He began…”Are you, errrr, hmmm, from Northern Ireland?”. “No”, I replied sincerely, “I am from England”. “Hmm”. More scanning of my passport. “Errrr, are you, umm, still living in London?”. Once again I replied nicely, “No, I am working in Ho Chi Minh City”. This intense physcological profiling continued until he was satisfied that I wasn’t off my rocker. Safe to say, me and the misses both passed with flying colors.