Vietnam - Chào(s)

Multilingual puns! Chào means "hello" <or something close> in Vietnamese!

Travel to Asia was, as always, terrible. 16 hours to Korea, a layover just long enough to hit a restroom, and then another 6 hours. All in middle seat purgatory.  Arriving in Ho Chi Minh City (hereafter referred to as HCMC or Saigon), there was another hour or so of immigration. Lou was waiting for me (with some friends), up in the reception area, which luckily meant she could direct me to her suitcase via text, because I'd totally forgotten what it looks like.

Driving to her place, my initial impression is.... very similar to China or Thailand, but with a way better nightlife - it's well past midnight, but there are still people chilling on the sidewalk at various bars/restaurants - though this falls off as we get away from the airport and into the residential districts.  Arriving at her apartment, we're faced with a gated alley in total darkness. If my GPS had lead me to an air-bnb here, I'd nope out and find a hotel, but my life is in Lou's hands, so we're going for it.

Lou's place is a classic Vietnamese single-room apartment. A concrete box approx 100sqft (10'x10') and 11' high, consisting of a futon, a desk, a sink, a washing machine, and a closet with 5' walls that contains the toilet and shower. Upstairs (well, up a ladder that hinges away when unneeded) is a loft with another futon and some wardrobes. The loft is just over 6' high, which is a blessing, because it means I only have to duck between for the support beams.   For a poor family, this would be home for 4-5 people.  This is a bolt-hole I've only experienced in cyberpunk literature: 4 walls, no windows, and a sheet-metal door secured by a padlock when you're away and a deadbolt when you're asleep.

I took a quick shower (squatting on the floor to fit), and passed out on my futon pad.

Day 1:

After some broken dreams where I had to employ superposition to fit into an apartment, I finally settled into real sleep and woke up rested at 8am. Maybe. I really don't know what time it is, or really what time even means anymore.  Today is grandpa's deathaversary, so we woke up early and headed out to the street. While waiting for our car, we had breakfast, gossiped with the local women running their shops, and I met my future mother-in-law if (Lou has anything to say about it). Soon, however, our car arrived and we set off into the countryside. 

I wrote previously about how China has lost it's authenticity and isn't the China it was 10 years ago... Vietnam may be that China. I think there are even more scooters here/now, than there were there/then, and none of them follow any traffic laws. They're more akin to birds flocking or fish schooling. I feel like I could survive among them, being one of the fluid whole. That said I could not drive a car here, our driver knowing the local unspoken rules of the road, letting people merge, honking vociferously, and flashing his four-ways or brights at various times. In contrary to the US where a quick flash means "go for it, I see you", in VN it appears to mean "don't think about it, I'll hit you".

Once we escaped the city, the countryside reminded me more of Thailand's industrial districts than China. It's definitely unique from either of them, but my mind can't help but to attempt to triangulate this country among it's neighbors.

I thought we'd arrived at the house, but after getting out of the car we instead headed off down a narrow gravel trail, sized for a single moped, cutting between a swamp and a lemon-plantation (which is really just an organized and replanted swamp).  About an eighth of a mile in we crossed a canal to an artificial island (at least some sort of absence of liquid surrounded by a concentration of liquid) to the house itself.  Open to the elements, lots of shade surrounding it, it makes a lot of sense for the climate it's in.  Around the house were animals (two dogs and a bunch of chickens), and fruit trees (papaya, kumquat, and banana).  I was immediately roped into picking some kumquats because I could reach higher than anyone else, and we paid our respects to Lou's grandfather - a memorial was set up with paper goods, foods, incense, and photos of him and his ancestors.   Then we settled in to wait for the incense to burn out, giving the spirits enough time to eat.... at least, that's the idea. In practice, we waited a bit and then relocated the incense and feasted. Egg rolls, chicken so fresh it was running around under that very table yesterday, noodles with shrimp, it was delicious.  I played the traditional game of not eating first so I could see how it was done, and they played the traditional game of making sure my bowl was never empty, and my cup was always full.

Mostly Lou's aunts and uncles, and a few neighbors from both the city property and the countryside -  including the English teacher I'm supposed to marry. Tamarins were ok but weirdly squishy and sticky inside; a chili pepper was acceptably hot on the first bite, but the second nibble made me want to cry. Lou's aunt chose me as her drinking partner, which mostly consisted of yelling Dzô! (pronounced YO!), or counting 1-2-3 and then yelling Dzô! It was fun. The whole experience was bizarre but charming and an amazing window into another culture. 

After the meal we wandered over to the local temple / community center / maybe someone's house? and then to the gravesite to see where grandpa was laid to rest. Finally, after a last round of drinks, it was time to head out. I rotated a few scooters for some of the aunties, and then we headed back to the car.  In contrary to the trip to the countryside and my first exposure to VN proper, the trip back can be summarized: "I hope we're close. I need to pee. This seems way longer. I need to pee soooo bad. I'm pretty sure I can't damage anything by holding my pee, just push through the suffering..."  When I was about to give up I finally reached to the rear-seats to wake Lou and ask for a status.... and luckily we were only two blocks away.  Anyways, I feel much better now.  

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Lou made me download an app on my phone (possibly VN uber?), hand it to her, and then she started giggling. She wouldn't tell me why, just "we're doing local shit".  Months ago I told her I wanted authentic experiences, and I think she took that as a personal challenge.  Anyways, apparently local shit means "put on your flipflops, we're taking scooter taxis".  All in all, pretty casual. There was a moment where her scooter lost us in traffic, so I had to assume that our driver had the address in GPS or something.... which he did! To my surprise, it was a massage parlor.

We ended up getting the couples massage. Are Lou and I a couple? Nope. Was it a couples massage? Also nope. After a quick bout of suffering in our separate saunas, we passed each other in the hallway to separate  massage rooms.  The massage was actually great, I've never done a proper massage, and 22 hours in middle seats means my back is all knotted up. Then we once again passed each other in the hallways on the way to our separate hair-massage / shampooing / whatever.   That was less great. Overall not that objectionable, but it felt like a massage interspersed with going to the dentist. The worst part by far was when the masseuse worked up a good lather in my hair and then BAM, two handfuls of foam straight to the eardrums. I can't endorse this like the I did the first half.  Finally, Lou and I met up for a couples blowdry.

After that unexpected adventure, Lou once again started texting and not telling me what was happening. In for a penny in for a pound though, and I'm a few thousand in at this point so far too late to start second guessing. We got back on scooter taxis, but this time our drivers were Lou's sister Ut (pronounced Oat!) and my future-wife Giang (pronounced Zainnng).  They took us on a scooter tour of Saigon, and it was awesome. Definitely my favorite part so far. Giang is a much more aggressive rider, which made it that much more fun. As I said before, I think I could survive this on a bike. I definitely could not survive this with a pillion and she made it look easy, while pointing out the sights such as the national bank, post office, the super photogenic bridge). No pictures for this part, at least not from me, as I was holding on for dear life. As we approached downtown, there were festivals happening that really ramped up the traffic/chaos. All the things I love most in life. 

Eventually, we parked and headed into the festivities. The first one we stopped to take in was a practice session for the NYE celebrations. Martial-arts dance crews, banging techno, huge soundstage... it's gonna be a great production. Then we wandered through civic center (the iconic post-office, opera-house, and a statue of Uncle Ho), and made our way to random parkinglots where people self-sorted into various hobbies. There was the dog lot, the RC car lot, rollerbladers... just a fun night culture / street culture overall. Finally, we hit Bui Vien, one of the major "Walking Streets" of Ho Chi Min City...  which is essentially Pattaya packed into 4 blocks. TBH I've never been there, maybe Pattaya is only 4 blocks as well...

Ridiculously loud music, as clubs competed with their rivals across the street, and bars showing the soccer game competed with them. Dancers in skimpy outfits (mostly female, but a few dudes up there too), looking sexy and bored. Buskers trying to push you into their club or bar, almost physically at some points. And a few ladies of the night stalking the crowd and grabbing the hand of any lone man, especially if they're foreign.  That was the other strange point: after seeing no foreigners for days, this street was full of them. One of the buskers I totally ignored even shouted drink prices in euros (1e per beer).  Loud, obnoxious, crowded, but great people-watching.

Having survived the street and made it to the other end, the four of us ducked into an Indian restaurant. The food was cheap but good, and getting off the street to sit down away from the noise was a welcome relief. Afterwards, it was time to take the whole journey in reverse. Bui Vien was even louder and more crowded, but the magic of completely refusing to acknowledge buskers still worked, so not that bad. Eventually emerging on the far side, we ran into a crowd of police. Strange, but whatever. As we walked past they all mounted their motorcycles, flipped on their lights, and tore off down the street.  And a block later, we saw why.

All the scooters in Saigon had descended on the surrounding blocks, and were doing loops while blaring their horns, waving flags, and just generally celebrating the victory of the Vietnamese team in the Asian semifinals.  Imagine a dude standing on the back of a moped, twerking and blasting his vuvuzela, as his bro slowly rolls down the street in a pack of literally a thousand mopeds.  Anywhere they stopped pulled to the side, the police were on them to get them on their way. Apparently this is a thing every time VN wins, and it was chaos incarnate. Again, I love this shit. Apparently not nearly as much as Lou does, and we were forced to physically drag her away.  Thankfully, the marauding was limited to the city-center, which meant that we could avoid the convoys once we mounted up and headed out.

That left only another scooter ride across the city, a bit more relaxing as traffic wasn't as bad now that it was passing midnight. Tearing across a strange city with my "future wife," flowing through traffic like a dolphin playing in waves, it felt like nothing could be wrong in the universe.