Saigon, Saigon

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So this is the first sentence of the first entry of the first blog I’ve ever tried to keep. Let’s see how long I can stick with it…

I certainly don’t expect to be updating this every couple of days but after such an exhilarating introduction to Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City, I thought it would be best for me to get that first entry under the belt or else I would be playing catch-up from the start.

To begin with, highlights from the 26 hours that comprised my travel:
*For my last American, "at home meal", I ordered a Texas Double Whopper (w/ cheese) from the Burger King in SeaTac’s international terminal, which was ironic because whatever it was that made up those 1300 calories was probably the food most foreign to my digestive tract since I ate that pig’s foot in New Orleans.

*When somebody barfs because of turbulence and then the person in the seat next to them barfs because of both turbulence and the other person’s barf splattered onto their jeans, I think we can laugh at that, right? I didn’t see this but apparently it happened a few rows back from me, judging by the wails and moans.

*I found myself wishing that I smoked (regularly, Gold 7) so that I could have joined stereotypical German man and stereotypical German woman in the trendy smoker’s room in the Tokyo Airport, which, by the way, I would place a close second to the Las Vegas strip for dazzling eye candy.

*We had a choice of seven movies on the first flight but the best one I watched was Waterboys on the flight to Vietnam, which told the plight of five Japanese boys who form a synchronized swimming team with hilarious results albeit mostly unintentional comedy, which explained why I was the only one on the plane laughing.

Everything that night after touchdown in Saigon went smoothly although I admittedly had a couple, "This is a big mistake!" moments on the 20 minute drive to my guesthouse downtown. Hien, the Vietnam program director/my ride back from the airport informed me on the offhand that several of the members enrolled in the current course actually spoke Vietnamese upon entering the program; one girl in fact lived in Saigon with her family. She assured me that I could, as had the only male in the current course, do fine getting by with hand signals and mouth noises, which led to the following exchange:

ME: So am I the first person here for the next course?
HIEN: (glances at her Vietnamese roommate up front, starts laughing nervously)
ME: I mean, when do the others get here?
HIEN: Well, um, see… it’s just you.
ME: I’m the only male?
HIEN: No, you’re the only person enrolled for the course this session.
ME: What’s the refund policy like on these visas?

Well, except for that last bit. But imagine that! 6,700,000,000 people on the planet and only one (1) of them thought to sign up for LanguageCorps Vietnam Program October - November session. It’s a bit of a thrill, really, although also a bit of a freak out as I had hoped to make connections and meet possible future-roommates/travelmates with others in my course. That said, I will be spending two weeks meeting and training with others in Cambodia (you know, that "popular" program) before returning here and so I’m sure I will still meet folks to travel with further down the road. Additionally, I am to be introduced to the members of the current course before my bus trip and I imagine they would be interested in rooming after I complete the course next month. It will work out.

I awoke after a cozy 90 minute sleep; I feel the past 36 hours have, in effect, tied a blindfold around my circadian pattern, spun it around in circles a few hundred times, and reduced it to a nauseous heap on the floor. The pillow felt like granite so I decided to walk off my fatigue and explore the city.

The first thing any foreigner walking around in Saigon will notice is that one cannot travel 15 feet without being asked to ride either a motorbike or cyclo, a little chair pushed by a bicycle. And it is never a modest question; rather, more as if they have just found you staggering through the desert with an empty canteen and would be honored to save your life with the grace of their wheels. "Sir! Sir, I am here for you, no more worries!" It’s funny, the Vietnamese seem quite unaccustomed to a Western traveler who would rather walk on his own two feet than be charioted around like a boy-prince; whenever I politely responded that I would prefer to walk, they scrunched their face as if I had just informed them that I intended to swim back to the states instead of fly.

I did take one short cyclo ride with a man named Fung down to the market, who said: "First half hour, NO MONEY!" I did not think for one moment that he would actually give me a free ride, but he produced a sort of scrapbook he had kept filled with comments from former tourists who had ridden with him and he had circled in pen all the times they had written "NO MONEY!" This was hilarious because upon closer inspection, the phrase was more often than not part of a sentence reading: "Fung is a good guy but he will rip you off!!! Don’t listen to him when he tells you "NO MONEY!"(circled) This man left me with empty pockets, etc. etc." Fung apparently underestimated English speakers' ability to also read the language but he made me laugh so I told him he could take me to the market for 10,000 dong, roughly 65 cents.

Being pushed in a little chair on a pedal-powered bike in the middle of a throng of motorbikes is, I imagine, somewhat akin to being pushed in a little chair on a pedal-powered bike in the middle of the bull charge at Pamplona. The advantage of taking a cyclo is that it is a lot easier to chat to the driver while riding, which led to the highlight of my day when, near the end of our journey, I casually mentioned to Fung that we should take a picture with his bike once we arrived at the market. I’m guessing all Fung understood was "picture" because he shouted "Yes, yes!", stopped the bike in the middle of moving traffic, hopped off, grabbed my camera, and stood in the street lining up a photo of myself sitting in his cyclo. As I sat there face grimaced, braced for the impending collision with one of the numerous motorbikes swerving to miss us and giving Fung dirty looks over their shoulder, I thought to myself: If I can get out of this alive, that is going to be a great Facebook profile pic.

The number of motorbikes in Saigon is, in a word, absurd. In fact, a German girl I walked around with for a while taught me a game called "Try to take a picture of the street with no motorbikes". It took me four tries. For the Bainbridge Islander, if you can imagine that moment unloading the ferry when all the motorcycles come off at once, sometimes close enough to rub elbows, that might give you some perspective if you could mentally place several huge bags of rice on the back of every other bike and multiply the entire thing by infinity. The funny thing is that they all seem to work together to achieve a common goal, namely, not dying. Nobody goes too fast. Nobody swerves when cut off. I cannot be the only foreigner who was amazed not to see one accident all day.

As you might imagine, all these motorbikes make crossing the road positively thrilling. I spent the morning learning that when trying to get to the other side of a street that is teeming with induced roadkill, the right approach is quite counterintuitive. Instead of waiting for a lull in traffic and then sprinting across screaming OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!! as I did my first couple of tries, the proper technique is to just step out and slowly walk right into the thick of danger. Think: Jews crossing the Red Sea. If you walk slow enough, motorbikes are better able to judge your position and will always manage to avoid you with inches to spare. I saw two Vietnamese girls crossing the road arm-in-arm literally shuffling their feet along as if they were trying to erase footprints in the dirt. Sometimes it actually feels like a sort of teamwork between the pedestrian and driver to make sure that the passing is as excruciatingly close as possible. My proudest moment came when I found myself waiting to cross the street and a Vietnamese man was waiting to do the same on the other side. It was I who actually stepped out first and as traffic slowed to go around us, the other man walked past and gave me a smile and a nod, as if to say “Yeah, you got the idea”.

That’s all I am going to write for the moment, the next entry I add should have news and pics from Cambodia so stay tuned!

Lots of love to everyone, you are missed already.

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Comments

[Crystal]

im very impressed!!!
WOW!!! I'm honestly impressed you have started your blog already. Great job Thom! I must say so you seem to be quite the natural at this blogging thing I especially appreciate the photos that come with. :-) keep the entrys coming... I mean you cant forgert you do have me living vicariously through you. Take care and be safe! Xoxo, -Crystal Ps-I still want a trinkette! Pss- Don't procrastinate seeing the doctor sir for that shot!!! Have a good time in Cambodia! Your incredible!!! -CLT

[Lynn]

impressive!
Dear Thom, Your dad turned me on to your blog. You write beautifully, very entertaining-I can hear your voice and feel like I'm traveling with you. I'll be checking your blog frequently, Arthur and I hope to head to your part of the world next year; maybe we can hook up with you at some point. Keep healthy! Lynn