SE Asia 2014 Day 2

---

Up at 6:30, much refreshed. Breakfast at hotel; very nice mixture of Vietnamese, Chinese and western food. Fresh fruit is fantastic. A.J. and Kien deliver a briefing in the lobby at 8:15 and we are on our way at 8:30 for a full-day tour of Saigon.

As the bus struggles through the morning traffic, we get close-up views of the endless flow of motorbikes. A.J. mentions that the country counts some 13 million motorbikes, the most per capita in the world. (Vietnam's total population is 90 million.) The first contrast I notice with China is that most motorcyclists are wearing helmets. Kien tells me that helmets are mandated by law. Weirdly, children are exempt, so we see kids perched on the handbars or the cargo without helmets (shudder). The helmets range from regular motorcycle helmets to bike helmets, to hard hats, and even to steel helmets presumably left over from the war. Two people on a bike is common, but there can be more, although apparently that's technically illegal. As we saw in China, there are some spectacular displays of ingenuity in terms of the loads, which can include precariously balanced boxes and bundles, ladders, building materials, and baskets of food. Many riders are wearing face masks, which is understandable, given the fumes. What's less understandable is the girls are often bundled head to toe in almost burka-like fashion. It strikes me as odd in this heat, but Kien explains that, for women, lighter untanned skin is considered attractive, so many women do everything they can to avoid the sun.

First stop is the city's Chinatown in the Cholon district, the centrepiece of which is an enormous market, partially inside and partially outside, crammed with small shops stuffed with a huge variety of – well, everything. There are discernible themes running through the rabbit warren of stores, in the sense that like stores are clustered together: shoes, or children's clothing, or cooking utensils, or hair accessories, or nuts, or spices, and so on. Workers are constantly moving merchandise around on their backs or with small carts, pushing firmly but not rudely through the crowds winding their way along the narrow passages. There is some attempt at the hard sell on the part of shopkeepers as we move through, but nowhere near the aggressive tactics of vendors in China or the Middle East.

It strikes me that the signage in this Chinese market is all in Vietnamese, even though the conversation is a mix of Chinese and Vietnamese. I query Kien about it, and he explains that the government, concerned with maintaining the prestige of the Vietnamese language, has decreed that the language of signs must be Vietnamese. Apparently, even the use of English, which used to be common, is similarly now discouraged. I share a summary of the language and signage issue in Quebec. Kien seems interested by the idea of federally mandated bilingualism.

Next stop is the Thien Hau pagoda in the heart of Chinatown, dedicated to the goddess of the sea who protected the first Chinese who settled in this area. It is redolent with the pungent smell of long incense sticks burning as offerings to the goddess. Beautiful Chinese friezes and carvings decorate the roof, walls and lintels.

Our next stop is the FITO museum of traditional medicine, which houses a collection of over 3000 items related to the development of traditional Vietnamese medicine. Our hostess, who displays genuine enthusiasm for her subject, shows us around while delivering prescriptions for a wide variety of aliments. Lots of twitters when she discusses the remedies for "male" issues. Quite an interesting visit, with the bonus of good views of the city from the top floor of the 5-storey building.

Excellent lunch at a local restaurant. Highlights include spicy fish and spring rolls. The spring rolls are presented protruding from a hollowed-out pineapple lit from within by candles.

The afternoon is spent visiting some of the signature sites of Saigon. First is the Reunification Palace, the former presidential palace where the surrender of South Vietnam was signed. The U.S. helicopter still parked on the roof evokes memories of the end of the Vietnam War. We also tour the Notre Dame Cathedral, the old Saigon post office (formerly a train station) and the City Hall.

On the way back to the hotel, we pause at a coffee shop to de-stress and cool down. Small digression: Vietnamese love their coffee. There's a coffee shop of some kind on every second corner. Vietnamese like to debate who serves the best coffee. Their coffee is generally strong but not bitter, and most Vietnamese take it black.

Back to the coffee shop. The one we're at is actually a Californian transplant called something like the Great Bean Brewing Company. Most of us order something iced; for me, it's an iced mocha latte. As we sip our beverages, Kien tries, mostly in vain, to teach us some simple Vietnamese words. Vietnamese is a tough language with six different tones. (Chinese, in contrast, has four.) That means that every syllable can change the meaning of the word in potentially six different ways according to the pitch pattern of the vowel. Eventually, Kien addresses the Vietnamese word "pho." To my ears, it sounds like the English word "far" with a falling intonation but neglecting to pronounce the "r." Kien explains that the one-syllable word can mean several different things according to the tone, and two of them are rude. One is "whore" and the other he is too embarrassed to explain.

After a chance to recuperate back at the hotel, we head out again for dinner. The restaurant is called Koto. It is actually a not-for-profit enterprise that offers training and opportunities for disadvantaged youth. The food is quite good. I especially like the taro and soybean curry.

The 11-hour difference with our homeland is once again playing havoc with our systems, and we are happy to return to the hotel. I use the opportunity to catch up with this blog. Tomorrow will be an early start.

---