No tales of adventure the last few days. We are starting to establish work routines. Ilene will hopefully write some about her job soon. The class I am teaching met for the first time last night. I started work on the next book on Monday, so I have been putting in a writing session in the morning and spend the afternoons on errands. Today I go in search of haircut. Wish me luck.
-Robert
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Classical concert
Last night we went to a concert at the opera house for the first time. (This picture is from a previous trip.) The occasion was to meet with another Fulbrighter who Ilene had so-far only corresponded with by email. She introduced us to a nice new restaurant I think I'll be spending a lot of time at and arranged for tickets to the concert, which was an east-meets-west kind of program. The Symphony Orchestra of the Ho Chi Minh City Ballet performed and guest soloists were from China, Korea and Japan. There were orchestral pieces composed by Chinese and Vietnamese featuring a kind of Vietnamese bamboo xylophone called T'rung and a Chinese lute called Pipa as well Terrega guitar piece adapted for Pipa. The event was a fundraiser for the Saigon Times Foundation, which supports "industrious students with disadvantages." It was a much better performance than what we attended on our last trip at the Conservatory, though this too was proceeded by a 15-minute lecture on the important connection between art and social values.-Robert
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Salsa night
Last night we painted the town red. Increasingly, Ilene and I feel like chaperons on these outings, though the young people we're running with don't need much looking after -- they drink the minimum and a late night ends at midnight. One of our friends has been taking salsa lessons and has become a regular at the Caravelle Hotel's rooftop bar where a Cuban band plays a couple nights a week. The crowd is a mix of hotel guests and young Vietnamese. The band jumps off stage to lure people on to the dance floor. The Japanese businessmen grab the asses of the hostesses. The middle-age Westerners try to get the phone numbers of the young ladies. The big screen TV runs a slide show of hotel services -- massages, drink specials, breakfast buffets, sightseeing tours. Every few minutes, a picture shows a smiling young man dressed in the costume of a Vietcong soldier popping out of one of the Cu Chi tunnels, one of the popular destinations for war tourists. Towering above on every side of the patio are the skeletons of the next generation of hotels and office towers. The sparks of the arc welders working late on Saturday wink inside.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Well fed
We had breakfast today at the home of our friend Tuan. One of his innumerable sisters runs a restaurant out of the front room, and she is a fantastic cook. She specializes in "broken rice" -- short-grain rice with a variety of heavier dishes with gravy, such as barbecue pork, stewed tuna steaks or hard boiled eggs. We had a sample platter and went away stuffed.
This kind of room facing the street is a combination formal receiving room and garage. (You can see the family altar and a motorbike in the background of the second picture.) It's pretty common to run some kind of small retail operation out of these rooms -- a quickimart or a small dining operation like this. She told us she has 100 customers per day, and basically what you see in the glass case in the background is the whole set up. Other sisters help at a stove in the kitchen in back, and the stock is delivered in small quantities by motorbike. I counted three deliveries while we were there. The breakfast rush is children getting breakfast on the way to school, and the lunch rush is laborers on break and some kids out from school.
I lost track of all the cousins in the household, but I do know the six-month old girl is the child of the brother whose wedding we went to in 2008.
Setting up house
I wanted to get some video or pictures to show the apartment before I told about it, but it's going to be a few days before I'm that organized.
So, we are in an old apartment building directly on a well-known traffic circle/landmark a little north of downtown. Very Vietnamese in style -- nothing like the towers built especially for the comfort of expats. 1 bedroom with a large living room and kitchen area and very simple furnishings and utilities. (The water is in cisterns above a drop ceiling and a pump turns on every time you use a tap or flush to keep the cisterns full.) We have tiny little washing machine and hang the clothes to dry out the back window. In front, we don't really have a view out on the street -- the unit is recessed a bit back in the building and the gallery outside our bedroom window belongs to the next unit, so we keep those curtains closed. In back we look out over a jumble of alleys. We like the location a lot, but it's a little noisier than I had hoped. Until I get used to it, I'll be waking up with the start of motor scooter horns about 5 a.m. If I really need a respite and feel like blowing a lot of money, a large Western-style department store with a bakery and movie theater is very close.
Our landlord is really sweet. She put in a lot of time helping the get the internet situation resolved and doing other little favors. She's a professor of law at a local university.
Between us, Ilene and I have carried 8 arm loads of essential supplies from the Co-op Mart a couple blocks away -- linens, brooms, fans, toilet paper, groceries, and everything else essential that wouldn't fit in the suitcases. It's looking pretty homey now.
That's been exhausting, and the week of traveling and apartment hunting was exhausting, and I guess I didn't realize it until now, but the month-long sprint preparing for the trip was exhausting, so we've hit the wall the last couple days. I've been laying on the couch eating Ritz crackers and special dark chocolates all day. Hopefully we can get some rest for a fresh start on Monday, but our social calendars between now and then are already packed.
Tonight my lack of language skills tripped me up again like it has in the past -- I accidentally ordered twice as much food as I intended, and at a pretty expensive place, too. It's always embarrassing to sit there and watch that second plate of food being carried out while it dawns on you how you screwed up the order. The good news is that I finally have an overload of protein in my belly, and I should be feeling better soon.
So, we are in an old apartment building directly on a well-known traffic circle/landmark a little north of downtown. Very Vietnamese in style -- nothing like the towers built especially for the comfort of expats. 1 bedroom with a large living room and kitchen area and very simple furnishings and utilities. (The water is in cisterns above a drop ceiling and a pump turns on every time you use a tap or flush to keep the cisterns full.) We have tiny little washing machine and hang the clothes to dry out the back window. In front, we don't really have a view out on the street -- the unit is recessed a bit back in the building and the gallery outside our bedroom window belongs to the next unit, so we keep those curtains closed. In back we look out over a jumble of alleys. We like the location a lot, but it's a little noisier than I had hoped. Until I get used to it, I'll be waking up with the start of motor scooter horns about 5 a.m. If I really need a respite and feel like blowing a lot of money, a large Western-style department store with a bakery and movie theater is very close.
Our landlord is really sweet. She put in a lot of time helping the get the internet situation resolved and doing other little favors. She's a professor of law at a local university.
Between us, Ilene and I have carried 8 arm loads of essential supplies from the Co-op Mart a couple blocks away -- linens, brooms, fans, toilet paper, groceries, and everything else essential that wouldn't fit in the suitcases. It's looking pretty homey now.
That's been exhausting, and the week of traveling and apartment hunting was exhausting, and I guess I didn't realize it until now, but the month-long sprint preparing for the trip was exhausting, so we've hit the wall the last couple days. I've been laying on the couch eating Ritz crackers and special dark chocolates all day. Hopefully we can get some rest for a fresh start on Monday, but our social calendars between now and then are already packed.
Tonight my lack of language skills tripped me up again like it has in the past -- I accidentally ordered twice as much food as I intended, and at a pretty expensive place, too. It's always embarrassing to sit there and watch that second plate of food being carried out while it dawns on you how you screwed up the order. The good news is that I finally have an overload of protein in my belly, and I should be feeling better soon.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Settling in
Just a quick update to let everyone know that we're getting settled. A fuller description later. We don't have internet in our apartment yet, so our ability to get online and check email, etc. is limited to when we go to a cafe with our computers.
We signed the contract and paid for the apartment Monday night and moved from the hotel on Tuesday and started setting up our new place. It's been a long week of little sleep and lot of uncertainty and a lot of literal heavy lifting. More about the apartment when we have more time online.
Ilene and her colleagues had their first meeting with their counterparts at the university here re: the exchange/State Dept. grant and came away very enthused. She's scheduled to start work on the Fulbright on Monday morning.
More shopping for apartment needs, finding a gym, retrieving books from the consulate, etc. in the next few days.
-Robert
We signed the contract and paid for the apartment Monday night and moved from the hotel on Tuesday and started setting up our new place. It's been a long week of little sleep and lot of uncertainty and a lot of literal heavy lifting. More about the apartment when we have more time online.
Ilene and her colleagues had their first meeting with their counterparts at the university here re: the exchange/State Dept. grant and came away very enthused. She's scheduled to start work on the Fulbright on Monday morning.
More shopping for apartment needs, finding a gym, retrieving books from the consulate, etc. in the next few days.
-Robert
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Twain on Forex
The Portuguese pennies, or reis (pronounced rays), are prodigious. It takes one thousand reis to make a dollar, and all financial estimates are made in reis. We did not know this until after we had found it out through Blucher. Blucher said he was so happy and so grateful to be on solid land once more that he wanted to give a feast -- said he had heard it was a cheap land, and he was bound to have a grand banquet . . . . In the midst of the jollity produced by good cigars, good wine, and passable anecdotes, the landlord presented his bill. Blucher glanced at it and his countenance fell. He took another look to assure himself that his senses had not deceived him and then read the items aloud, in a faltering voice, while the roses in his cheeks turned to ashes . . . .
"'TOTAL, TWENTY-ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED REIS!' The suffering Moses! There ain't enough money in the ship to pay that bill! Go -- leave me to my misery, boys, I am a ruined community."
. . . . [The landlord] glanced from the little pile of gold pieces to Blucher several times and then went out. He must have visited an American, for when he returned, he brought back his bill translated into a language that a Christian could understand . . . . $21.70. Happiness reigned once more in Blucher's dinner party. More refreshments were ordered.
--The Innocents Abroad, Mark Twain
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Apartment hunting
It's been a hectic and exhausting first two full days, and today is mostly devoted to sorting through the storm damage and trimming our sails for the next few days.
Many uncertainties remain, but it appears we have an apartment that we will be able to move into Tuesday morning. Our friend Chung was a fantastic help acting as unpaid renter's agent, local guide and translator in a twelve-hour marathon yesterday. She set up appointments to look at several apartments with three owner's agents, and we crisscrossed District 1 in a total of 8 taxi rides. There were numerous misunderstandings, incorrect addresses, and surrealist rabbit holes. We made our selection and began serious negotiations, which resembled something like the game of telephone using actual telephones and a language barrier for spice -- Ilene and me to Chung to the agent to the landlord's sister to the landlord, who was supposed to be on holiday but I'm beginning to think is somebody's alter ego.
Once we came to terms, we piled on motorbikes (we also accomplished buying our own new helmets) and took a long trip out into District 2 to the landlord's sister's place, which was on the 14th floor of an apartment tower with a gorgeous view of the sunset and a serious AV set up. Cans of Ba Ba Ba and Pepsi were passed around and we sat down to write up a promissory note to sign a contract later when the landlord returns. During this process all of the misunderstandings that were seeded during the game of telephone bore fruit and the deal nearly fell apart. (Most worryingly, they insist on being paid in U.S. currency, which I didn't bring nearly enough of and which I thought was impossible to acquire here. I'm now told otherwise, so tomorrow's errand is to navigate of the international banks downtown. If I don't succeed, we're back at square one.)
As for the apartment itself, I'll tell more after we move in and get pictures. Suffice it to say that we avoided the lure of a foreigner's enclave and that the word "charming" will be often used -- whether sincerely or ironically remains to be seen.
As usual, jet lag has us dropping like stones at about 9 p.m. and waking up at 3 a.m. We lay in bed quietly out of courtesy to the rooster who lives across the street from our hotel, and when he starts his day we get up and start ours.
We acclimate quickly, though. We heard via Skype this morning that it's snowing in Connecticut, and it felt a little like news that aliens had landed. I couldn't quite imagine it. 28 Celsius and cloudy here, all day, every day, with humidity to beat the band.
-Robert
Many uncertainties remain, but it appears we have an apartment that we will be able to move into Tuesday morning. Our friend Chung was a fantastic help acting as unpaid renter's agent, local guide and translator in a twelve-hour marathon yesterday. She set up appointments to look at several apartments with three owner's agents, and we crisscrossed District 1 in a total of 8 taxi rides. There were numerous misunderstandings, incorrect addresses, and surrealist rabbit holes. We made our selection and began serious negotiations, which resembled something like the game of telephone using actual telephones and a language barrier for spice -- Ilene and me to Chung to the agent to the landlord's sister to the landlord, who was supposed to be on holiday but I'm beginning to think is somebody's alter ego.
Once we came to terms, we piled on motorbikes (we also accomplished buying our own new helmets) and took a long trip out into District 2 to the landlord's sister's place, which was on the 14th floor of an apartment tower with a gorgeous view of the sunset and a serious AV set up. Cans of Ba Ba Ba and Pepsi were passed around and we sat down to write up a promissory note to sign a contract later when the landlord returns. During this process all of the misunderstandings that were seeded during the game of telephone bore fruit and the deal nearly fell apart. (Most worryingly, they insist on being paid in U.S. currency, which I didn't bring nearly enough of and which I thought was impossible to acquire here. I'm now told otherwise, so tomorrow's errand is to navigate of the international banks downtown. If I don't succeed, we're back at square one.)
As for the apartment itself, I'll tell more after we move in and get pictures. Suffice it to say that we avoided the lure of a foreigner's enclave and that the word "charming" will be often used -- whether sincerely or ironically remains to be seen.
As usual, jet lag has us dropping like stones at about 9 p.m. and waking up at 3 a.m. We lay in bed quietly out of courtesy to the rooster who lives across the street from our hotel, and when he starts his day we get up and start ours.
We acclimate quickly, though. We heard via Skype this morning that it's snowing in Connecticut, and it felt a little like news that aliens had landed. I couldn't quite imagine it. 28 Celsius and cloudy here, all day, every day, with humidity to beat the band.
-Robert
Innocents Abroad
On every hand were bright colors, flashing constellations of gas burners, gaily dressed men and women thronging the sidewalks -- hurry, life, activity, cheerfulness, conversation, and laughter everywhere! We found the Grand Hotel du Louvre et de la Paix, and wrote down who we were, where we were born, what our occupations were, the place we came from last, whether we were married or single, how we liked it, how old we were, where we were bound for and when we expected to get there, and a great deal of information of similar importance -- all for the benefit of the landlord and the secret police. We hired a guide and began the business of sightseeing immediately. That first night on French soil was a stirring one. I cannot think of half the places we went to or what we particularly saw; we had no disposition to examine carefully into anything at all -- we only wanted to glance and go -- to move, keep moving! The spirit of the country was upon us. We sat down, finally, at a late hour, in the great Casino, and called for unstinted champagne. It is easy to be bloated aristocrats where it costs nothing of consequence!
--The Innocents Abroad, Mark Twain
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Ready, set, go
Thanks for checking in! Our flight departs in about 24 hours for our 2010 trip to Vietnam. If you're catching up with us for the first time, here are the basics.
Ilene will be working on two projects in Saigon. First is teaching at the University of Pedagogy in their foreign languages department, a.k.a. the Fulbright project. Second is establishing an exchange program between that university and hers, a.k.a. the State Department grant project. She expects to have several work-related side trips to conferences both within Vietnam and in the region.
I'm working less hard. I'll be starting another novel and working on that, but I won't be passing up any opportunities for adventure that will take my eye off that. I'm also going to be teaching an informal English class at a community center, and I plan to do some extensive solo trekking in other Southeast Asian countries. Roughly, I plan to stay close to Saigon until the end of March, and then embarking on side trips. (Goal: 50k words drafted by then and another 20k drafted before my return.)
We hope just living and working in Saigon will be an adventure, and we hope our friends there will invite us off the beaten path a lot. Expect to see a lot of news here about country homes and family celebrations and, as usual, clothing mishaps. We'll probably have a few words to say about the food and coffee.
We're staying roughly 6 months, give or take, probably longer for Ilene and shorter for me. See you sometime next summer!
-Robert
Ilene will be working on two projects in Saigon. First is teaching at the University of Pedagogy in their foreign languages department, a.k.a. the Fulbright project. Second is establishing an exchange program between that university and hers, a.k.a. the State Department grant project. She expects to have several work-related side trips to conferences both within Vietnam and in the region.
I'm working less hard. I'll be starting another novel and working on that, but I won't be passing up any opportunities for adventure that will take my eye off that. I'm also going to be teaching an informal English class at a community center, and I plan to do some extensive solo trekking in other Southeast Asian countries. Roughly, I plan to stay close to Saigon until the end of March, and then embarking on side trips. (Goal: 50k words drafted by then and another 20k drafted before my return.)
We hope just living and working in Saigon will be an adventure, and we hope our friends there will invite us off the beaten path a lot. Expect to see a lot of news here about country homes and family celebrations and, as usual, clothing mishaps. We'll probably have a few words to say about the food and coffee.
We're staying roughly 6 months, give or take, probably longer for Ilene and shorter for me. See you sometime next summer!
-Robert
Monday, August 11, 2008
Friendliness and other last thoughts
We're back home now and missing Saigon a lot.
We're both reluctant to attempt any kind of summary about our trips--to say that "Vietnam is a land of" anything in particular. But it's fair to say that, despite a political and economic environment where people find it difficult to use all of their skills and ambitions, Vietnam has tremendous gifts. Particularly in the familiar and easy way that people get along, whether it's parents and children or strangers in a cafe.
At the speech contest where we were judges, we asked one teenager a follow-up question on her speech about the importance of a strong national identity. She had said when people think of Italy, they think of its fine art and she gave some more examples like that about other countries. We asked her, "What do you hope people in other countries will think of when they think of Vietnam?"
"Friendliness," she said. That idea wasn't in her prepared speech, but it came to her instinctively. And our experience supports her hope. Friendliness is what we think of when we think of Vietnam.
We're also reluctant to attempt a summary, because we expect to have an ongoing relationship with the country and our friends there, with as many more trips as our budgets and schedules will allow. We anticipate returning in September 2009 for a five-month stay. So, there will hopefully be more posts on this travelogue at that time. Please check back to see.
-Robert and Ilene
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Last goodbyes and back home
We started back home on Wednesday, Saigon time. It was a late flight, so we spent the day making the rounds to our regular haunts and saying goodbye. Many of our friends met us at the airport to see us off, just like in the days when a plane trip was a big deal.Except for a small tribute that I had to pay at Vietnamese customs to let some of my souvenirs through, we had an uneventful journey from Saigon to Tokyo to Washington, D.C. to Hartford. We had the same experience as on the way over of excellent, friendly service from the Japanese airline and security personnel and appalling rudeness and cynicism from the U.S. airline and T.S.A. employees.
Despite starting out at bedtime and traveling for 30 hours, I had my usual trouble sleeping on the plane and arrived home a zombie. I made a quick inspection of the house (all OK) and slept for 12 hours straight in a glorious absence of construction and motorbike noise. Now I just have jetlag and culture shock to get over, and if you happen to see me in the next few weeks, I hope you'll forgive me any weird muttering or outbursts.
-Robert
Our favorite restaurant in Saigon, vegetarian, Vietnamese or otherwise
UPDATED: Unfortunately, we're going to have to find a new favorite place. Tram Huong is no more. We're back in HCMC for our 2010 stay, and we headed straight here for dinner, but found it had closed up.We had lots and lots of delicious food, but one restaurant emerged as our favorite place to go over and over. We loved the variety, the quality, the quiet, the price and the super friendly family that runs it.
It was a favorite based on its own merits, I think, but I may be prejudiced a little by the fact that it was our own discovery, unknown by any guidebook or any friend, and we never saw another tourist within two blocks of the place.
But I don't think success will spoil them so I'm glad to draw attention to it, and I hope you'll consider a trip to Tram Huong at 150/26 Nguyen Trai in District 1. (If you don't know how the addresses work, that means it's at #26 in an alley that starts at #150 off Tram Huong street . The other end of the alley is on Le Lai Street. If you're in the backpacker's ghetto, the easiest thing to do is to walk across September 23rd park to Le Lai. If you're downtown, you'll want a cab.)
It happens to be a vegetarian restaurant, which is what made the sign catch Ilene's eye initially. I assumed that means the family are committed Buddhists, and that probably has something to do with the very peaceful vibe.
We ate there probably three times a week, always ordering enough to take leftovers back to the hotel, and we never did exhaust all the choices on the menu. Some favorites included the different versions of grilled tofu gluten, the five-color stir fry, grilled eggplant, pumpkin soup, fresh springrolls, fried springrolls, banana blossom salad, enoki mushroom soup, simmered jackfruit, lemonade, orange juice and cafe sua da. We usually ordered the small versions of 3 or 4 dishes and spent about $5.
-Robert
Friday, August 1, 2008
Favorite places-Sozo
I don't love Sozo for the cuisine particularly-- though everything I've had there has been tasty--but for the vibe. It's a great relaxing place, with really friendly staff. Plus you feel good spending money there, because it's an enterprise that provides job training and educational opportunities for impoverished families. If you're in the backpacker's ghetto and need a light refreshment, try Sozo instead of Highlands coffee or any place like that.I particularly like the verandas on the second and third floors with views of the traffic on Bui Vien Street. They have some computers so you can check email and a small library of left behind books.
I know they have a menu of Vietnamese food, but I never looked at it closely because I always went straight to the cakes and brownies and sandwiches, which were the closest approximation to baked goods at home. I also liked getting a package of chocolate chip or peanut butter cookies from the case in front to take away whenever I was passing by.
-Robert
Monday, July 28, 2008
Street children in Saigon
Vietnam has an incredibly young population. The median age is 26 years, compared to 36 in the U.S.
And to western eyes the large number of children here are much more apparent. For one thing, they have a lot more independence--getting themselves to and from school, for example--and with very few playgrounds, gymnasiums or youth programs, the sidewalks are where they spend their free time. Just a few minutes ago on the way home I cracked up watching two kids playing inside the glass booth of a street side ATM machine.
Another reason you notice kids more is that life here isn't separated into nuclear families in individual homes apart from the workplace. Almost any building you see is a combination home and shop or restaurant, and if the children aren't working in the family business, then they are playing in it. The typical shop does double duty as a nursery and the shopkeeper is also a childcare provider. At our favorite restaurant last Sunday afternoon, we waited for our meal while listening to the big sister in a loft above the dining room singing a lullaby to a crying baby while mom was busy in the kitchen. The baby had better luck tuning out the street noise and falling asleep than I do.
The worst part about Vietnam for us is seeing the number of children essentially employed as beggars. It's over 20,000 in Ho Chi Minh City, and at least two families of them work on our street.
One is a pair of sisters, about 12 and 8, who I assume go to school since I only see them at night and on school holidays. They walk a regular circuit between three hotels and one expensive restaurant on the block. They have a slouch-shouldered way of walking from one entrance to the next, never changing the expressions on their faces. The older one leads the younger one, and when someone exits one of these buildings she flips the cotton cap she wears off her head and holds it out. When she gets the shake of the head no she flips the cap back on her head again and moves on. Everyone on the street--the man who manages the taxi cue, the woman who runs the coffee stand, the heavily made up young women, only a few years older, waiting in the doorways of the beauty salons--ignores them, and they ignore everyone right back.
The other group on our street includes a little boy in a vintage wheelchair. His brothers push him up and down the street like demons, bouncing him over the curb and into traffic in a way that terrifies me to watch. When they see a tourist, they race toward him and use the wheelchair to block the path. The other day I came back to the hotel and saw them parked on the sidewalk in front, peering through the glass doors. I braced myself, but they ignored me when I went passed, totally focused on something inside. When I got inside, I realized that they were watching the television mounted on the wall, which was showing American professional wrestling.
Some children assist their parents or other family in begging (or selling gum or lottery tickets.) Babies ride on their mother's hip, holding out their hands like they've been trained, and when they're old enough to walk, the adult spots the mark from a distance and nudges the child to go make the solicitation.
Last week I saw a girl about 9 years old helping a man old enough to be her great-great-grandfather. He was blind and playing the flute as he shuffled down the street. He wore old pajamas, and the top had a large hole near the hem which the girl used as a handle to pull him along, holding out her hat in front of her as they went.
One time I saw a boy about 14 years old taking care of his older brother who appeared to have Downs syndrome. This was at the small playground in the park near us where every night more children then you can imagine pack into it and somehow all get along. The two teenagers sat on the curb nearby watching the crowd carefully, and whenever a child or parent left behind a plastic juice bottle or water bottle, the younger one got up to retrieve it. The older one sat and guarded an old plastic fertilizer bag they used to collect their haul, and when his brother returned with a new bottle, he got up and squashed it underfoot.
Most street children don't go to school at all, and those are the kids we met while tutoring for an organization called Thao Dan. Our group of kids was between 7 and 13 years old and they can't read or write in Vietnamese, but the older ones speak English as well as almost anyone we've met, having picked it up on the street.
When our class at 5:30 in the evening, their day was just starting. Their jobs are to hustle in various ways in the backpackers ghetto from dinner time until the last drunks drag back to their hotels about 3 a.m. Then they travel back out to their homes in remote districts of the city and sleep until the next afternoon. The social worker at Thao Dan tells us that their parents keep them out of school to work like that.
The kids we met this way are amazing. On the one hand they were completely unfamiliar with the habits of taking turns and listening to the teacher and not touching the teacher's stuff. On the other hand, they seemed desperate for whatever it is we were doing with them. When Ilene read a picture book to them last night, I never saw children so entranced. They beg us to come back the next day and they cling to us when we are there, fighting with one another over who will sit next to us. They are full of energy, shouting out answers, proud to show off what they do know, never too shy to guess when they don't know. And they all have a disconcerting confidence for their age, like they are 10 years older.
When we dismiss class, which is held in a borrowed room in the neighborhood People's Committee office, they show off how they know to shake hands and shout "See you later! See you tomorrow! See you next week! See you next year!" They run out the door and by the time we exit, they've already merged into the economy of the street. We see them in front of the bars and cafes along De Tham and Pham Ngu Lau working their hustles.
Last week, we were having dinner nearby and a boy about 11 years old who we know and who is my favorite one in the class came in selling cigars. For the most part, restaurant owners let anyone come in to pester the customers as long as you have something to sell. The typical routine involves going from table to table and holding the merchandise in front of each person's nose until they shake their head no about three times and then moving on. About half way through the dining room our student spotted us and just gave a grin to acknowledge me but didn't come to our table and didn't do any of the friendly showing off he does in class. He ducked out quickly like he was embarrassed for me to see him that way.
Of course, on the street like that each night, they are incredibly vulnerable to all kinds of exploitation. When I pass motorbike drivers who whisper to me "You want very young girl?" I know that before long these kids may be who they are talking about. So when I see the backpackers chatting with the kids like they are mascots or characters in a heartwarming movie about lovable street urchins, it makes me pretty fed up with tourists.
Ilene and I can't help wondering if the more English we teach them the more valuable they become to their families on the street and the less likely they are to go to school. With more time, we would . . . . well, without the language and local knowledge and the contacts, there's not a lot we can do that would be effective. Are we going to persuade their parents to send them to school? After nine weeks, we're still not much more than tourists ourselves, and undoubtedly I got more interesting stories out of our classes than they got education. For now, this is an issue that I know a little bit about but haven't found a real way into. As with everything here, I observe without really understanding what's going on.
But I can say that the people at Thao Dan seemed eager to have the help we could offer, and I assume that means there's some value in it. If you're in Saigon and want to volunteer, I suggest stopping by a bookstore and buying a pile of the simplest math and English books you can find and a box of pencils and stopping by the Thao Dan office. If you're on your way to Vietnam, fill the extra space in your luggage with coloring books. They run a lot of other programs besides these ersatz classes--street outreach, shelters, drop-in centers--and they're always building their supplies for gift baskets they distribute during Tet.
When it comes to charitable donations in Vietnam, it's hard to know what to do to make sure a gift will be used as intended. There is no such thing as a 501c3 here, and there aren't the same systems for financial control and accountability that we are used to at home.
But Thao Dan passes the sniff test for me and Ilene. We generally have the philosophy of "do your givin' where you're livin'," but we are starting to consider Saigon our second home, and we're doing what we can to support Thao Dan. If you're interested in supporting their work from afar, we suggest an electronic money transfer service called Xoom. Or you might consider supporting the work of an organization with a presence in your home country such as (in the case of the U.S.), The East Meets West Foundation or Save the Children. Or if you have experience with any charities here that you recommend, please share it in the comments.
We hope you've enjoyed reading our travelogue. We actually have some more fun posts to catch up on even though our trip is over, so keep checking back.
-Robert
And to western eyes the large number of children here are much more apparent. For one thing, they have a lot more independence--getting themselves to and from school, for example--and with very few playgrounds, gymnasiums or youth programs, the sidewalks are where they spend their free time. Just a few minutes ago on the way home I cracked up watching two kids playing inside the glass booth of a street side ATM machine.
Another reason you notice kids more is that life here isn't separated into nuclear families in individual homes apart from the workplace. Almost any building you see is a combination home and shop or restaurant, and if the children aren't working in the family business, then they are playing in it. The typical shop does double duty as a nursery and the shopkeeper is also a childcare provider. At our favorite restaurant last Sunday afternoon, we waited for our meal while listening to the big sister in a loft above the dining room singing a lullaby to a crying baby while mom was busy in the kitchen. The baby had better luck tuning out the street noise and falling asleep than I do.
The worst part about Vietnam for us is seeing the number of children essentially employed as beggars. It's over 20,000 in Ho Chi Minh City, and at least two families of them work on our street.
One is a pair of sisters, about 12 and 8, who I assume go to school since I only see them at night and on school holidays. They walk a regular circuit between three hotels and one expensive restaurant on the block. They have a slouch-shouldered way of walking from one entrance to the next, never changing the expressions on their faces. The older one leads the younger one, and when someone exits one of these buildings she flips the cotton cap she wears off her head and holds it out. When she gets the shake of the head no she flips the cap back on her head again and moves on. Everyone on the street--the man who manages the taxi cue, the woman who runs the coffee stand, the heavily made up young women, only a few years older, waiting in the doorways of the beauty salons--ignores them, and they ignore everyone right back.
The other group on our street includes a little boy in a vintage wheelchair. His brothers push him up and down the street like demons, bouncing him over the curb and into traffic in a way that terrifies me to watch. When they see a tourist, they race toward him and use the wheelchair to block the path. The other day I came back to the hotel and saw them parked on the sidewalk in front, peering through the glass doors. I braced myself, but they ignored me when I went passed, totally focused on something inside. When I got inside, I realized that they were watching the television mounted on the wall, which was showing American professional wrestling.
Some children assist their parents or other family in begging (or selling gum or lottery tickets.) Babies ride on their mother's hip, holding out their hands like they've been trained, and when they're old enough to walk, the adult spots the mark from a distance and nudges the child to go make the solicitation.
Last week I saw a girl about 9 years old helping a man old enough to be her great-great-grandfather. He was blind and playing the flute as he shuffled down the street. He wore old pajamas, and the top had a large hole near the hem which the girl used as a handle to pull him along, holding out her hat in front of her as they went.
One time I saw a boy about 14 years old taking care of his older brother who appeared to have Downs syndrome. This was at the small playground in the park near us where every night more children then you can imagine pack into it and somehow all get along. The two teenagers sat on the curb nearby watching the crowd carefully, and whenever a child or parent left behind a plastic juice bottle or water bottle, the younger one got up to retrieve it. The older one sat and guarded an old plastic fertilizer bag they used to collect their haul, and when his brother returned with a new bottle, he got up and squashed it underfoot.
Most street children don't go to school at all, and those are the kids we met while tutoring for an organization called Thao Dan. Our group of kids was between 7 and 13 years old and they can't read or write in Vietnamese, but the older ones speak English as well as almost anyone we've met, having picked it up on the street.
When our class at 5:30 in the evening, their day was just starting. Their jobs are to hustle in various ways in the backpackers ghetto from dinner time until the last drunks drag back to their hotels about 3 a.m. Then they travel back out to their homes in remote districts of the city and sleep until the next afternoon. The social worker at Thao Dan tells us that their parents keep them out of school to work like that.
The kids we met this way are amazing. On the one hand they were completely unfamiliar with the habits of taking turns and listening to the teacher and not touching the teacher's stuff. On the other hand, they seemed desperate for whatever it is we were doing with them. When Ilene read a picture book to them last night, I never saw children so entranced. They beg us to come back the next day and they cling to us when we are there, fighting with one another over who will sit next to us. They are full of energy, shouting out answers, proud to show off what they do know, never too shy to guess when they don't know. And they all have a disconcerting confidence for their age, like they are 10 years older.
When we dismiss class, which is held in a borrowed room in the neighborhood People's Committee office, they show off how they know to shake hands and shout "See you later! See you tomorrow! See you next week! See you next year!" They run out the door and by the time we exit, they've already merged into the economy of the street. We see them in front of the bars and cafes along De Tham and Pham Ngu Lau working their hustles.
Last week, we were having dinner nearby and a boy about 11 years old who we know and who is my favorite one in the class came in selling cigars. For the most part, restaurant owners let anyone come in to pester the customers as long as you have something to sell. The typical routine involves going from table to table and holding the merchandise in front of each person's nose until they shake their head no about three times and then moving on. About half way through the dining room our student spotted us and just gave a grin to acknowledge me but didn't come to our table and didn't do any of the friendly showing off he does in class. He ducked out quickly like he was embarrassed for me to see him that way.
Of course, on the street like that each night, they are incredibly vulnerable to all kinds of exploitation. When I pass motorbike drivers who whisper to me "You want very young girl?" I know that before long these kids may be who they are talking about. So when I see the backpackers chatting with the kids like they are mascots or characters in a heartwarming movie about lovable street urchins, it makes me pretty fed up with tourists.
Ilene and I can't help wondering if the more English we teach them the more valuable they become to their families on the street and the less likely they are to go to school. With more time, we would . . . . well, without the language and local knowledge and the contacts, there's not a lot we can do that would be effective. Are we going to persuade their parents to send them to school? After nine weeks, we're still not much more than tourists ourselves, and undoubtedly I got more interesting stories out of our classes than they got education. For now, this is an issue that I know a little bit about but haven't found a real way into. As with everything here, I observe without really understanding what's going on.
But I can say that the people at Thao Dan seemed eager to have the help we could offer, and I assume that means there's some value in it. If you're in Saigon and want to volunteer, I suggest stopping by a bookstore and buying a pile of the simplest math and English books you can find and a box of pencils and stopping by the Thao Dan office. If you're on your way to Vietnam, fill the extra space in your luggage with coloring books. They run a lot of other programs besides these ersatz classes--street outreach, shelters, drop-in centers--and they're always building their supplies for gift baskets they distribute during Tet.
When it comes to charitable donations in Vietnam, it's hard to know what to do to make sure a gift will be used as intended. There is no such thing as a 501c3 here, and there aren't the same systems for financial control and accountability that we are used to at home.
But Thao Dan passes the sniff test for me and Ilene. We generally have the philosophy of "do your givin' where you're livin'," but we are starting to consider Saigon our second home, and we're doing what we can to support Thao Dan. If you're interested in supporting their work from afar, we suggest an electronic money transfer service called Xoom. Or you might consider supporting the work of an organization with a presence in your home country such as (in the case of the U.S.), The East Meets West Foundation or Save the Children. Or if you have experience with any charities here that you recommend, please share it in the comments.
We hope you've enjoyed reading our travelogue. We actually have some more fun posts to catch up on even though our trip is over, so keep checking back.
-Robert
Cooking class
Yesterday we took a cooking class at The Vietnam Cookery Center. It was dorky and expensive but we had fun, even if we didn't necessarily learn a lot. All the prep work is done in advance and a platoon of staff delivers ingredients in front of you in little bowls so all you really do is assemble them. I think with the recipe book they provide I'll be able to make some tasty dishes, though. The best part for me was that we made caramelized fish in a clay pot which became my favorite dish on my first visit.You can do the class only or the class with a market visit. We were already very familiar with Cho Benh Thanh, so we could have skipped that. Then it's a fairly long ride out to Ben Thanh District to the cookery center. They have prep stations set up for about 20 people with the head chef in front. They walk you through making a salad, a main course and a soup, and then you retire to a big dining table and eat all that for lunch as well as rice and desert which they make for you.
They have a good shtick of making it sound like a tough course, mixing in lots of trivia and having a graduation ceremony at the end where the chef makes a big show of signing the diplomas. All-in-all, it was easily the most professionally run and least disorienting tourist experience we've had here.
-Robert
Going away party
Sunday night we threw a party at a banh xeo restaurant to try and say thank you to some of the people who have been so helpful and kind to us during our visit. We tried to do something special, but of course you can't spend enough money to repay the generosity we've experienced. We were very sad to say goodbye.-Robert
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Favorite places--Pizza
One in a series of posts about our favorite places in Vietnam."Favorite" is the wrong category for this discussion. Pizza in Vietnam should be regarded only for its medicinal value in cases of mild homesickness. Bread and cheese are two ingredients too uncommon in the cuisine here to expect them to be done well. And there's so much cheap, terrific, fresh Vietnamese food that for the same money, you could try 3 neighborhood cafes until you found a lunch you liked. So why bother?
Well, because sometimes after a certain number of weeks of unfamiliar experiences--good or bad--on a hot day when the honda om drivers seem particularly relentless, you crave the sensation of something familiar on the tongue. And if you're familiar with the sensation of room service pizza from the Executive Suites off I-80 in Erie, Pennsylvania, you're in luck. You can get that here.
I had days like that a few times (Ilene has more patience) and tried a couple pizza places. By no means did we make a comprehensive tour, and we never did get around to Annie's, which is touted in the guidebooks and online forums as the best in town. We did try a place that we were told was the favorite of Vietnamese kids. In fact it was the only time on the whole trip we ever had to wait for a table. But it was terrible. I can understand why the kids were so eager to squirt ketchup on it.
The place that I tolerated the best is called Cappuccino's, at 86 Bui Vien. Service is super slow (I assume because the toaster oven can only hold one pizza at a time), and the only patrons are tourists, so it's a good a place to practice your English.
Pictured are the Greca and the Tres Colores. They weren't that bad, and after one or the other of them, I could leave with my belly full and ready to take a fresh run at life in Saigon.
-Robert
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Wildlife spotting in Cat Tien Park
The wildlife spotting at Cat Tien National Park was less than advertised. The kinds of large mammals--wild water buffalo, large cats, elephants, primates and of course the Javanese Rhino--are just highly unlikely to be something you encounter on the typical guided tour that stays close to the park headquarters. In fact, one guide told me that no one had EVER seen the rhinos in person--that they've only been spotted via camera traps.Nevertheless, we had a lot of fun and did see a lot of smaller wildlife, including one very close call with a monocled cobra. We also spotted one real-life example of the mascot of this website, the Asian Civet Cat, as well as lots and lots of civet poop.
We used Sinhbalo Adventure Tours and again had a great experience with them. They driver and our guide--Huy--picked us up at our hotel early on Friday and then picked up another traveler--Hermann, a high school P.E. teacher from Austria. We drove about 4 hours to get to the park entrance. First you take a simple ferry boat across the Dong Nai River. We checked into our room, which was about the equivalent of a mountain lodge in a national park in the U.S., except you share it with more lizards. We had a delicious lunch in the canteen and then a siesta. My one complaint is that for all the trouble and expense I would rather have gotten underway on our first hike sooner than 2:30.
Gearing up for the hike includes putting on leech socks and leech repellent. The socks are similar to gaiters, made of cotton and worn inside your shoes and over your pants. Then you smear the repellent like a barrier around your calf. They were absolutely necessary--long pants alone won't cut it. Ilene and I and everyone one else we hiked with found at least half a dozen leeches on their clothing. The leeches I pictured beforehand I guess are aquatic leeches and didn't resemble these at all--at least not before they had a chance to fill with blood. They look like very tiny worms, and they stand upright waving one end in the air and they have an amazing ability to spring from that position. Anticipating them was creepy, but in the end they were harmless.
Huy joined us for the hike but handed us over to a ranger--Trung--who was very knowledgeable and friendly and did a great job of spotting various insects and identifying trees and bird cries and so on for us. I wasn't able to record the names of most of the trees. One large variety is called a Vietnamese Redwood. Much larger than those are a kind of tree where the roots stay near the surface and make spectacular ropey waves. That's the kind the two of us are standing in front of in the picture above. Another neat plant was taro, which are the very large green leaves pictured below. The coolest thing is the strangler vines. They set their roots into the top of a tall tree and then start sending the vines down and taking over. Sometimes you find a kind of woven basket of vines in the shape of the tree that used to be there before it died and decayed.
It was in the middle of the first hike that we encountered the cobra. We were walking in file, with Trung and Ilene ahead. They apparently stepped over it, because I first spotted the movement as I was stepping over it. I got a good look at it behind my heel and then me and Hermann, who was behind me, were both yelling "snake!" It was between black and dark grey and about as thick as the handle of a tennis racket. I got one glimpse of its head and then it was straightened out and moving really fast toward the brush. I kept trying to move my eyes ahead to see its head again but it moved so fast I only kept glimpsing near the tail. I estimated it about 1.5 meters and Hermann says 2 meters. Trung never saw it, but based on our descriptions, he says it was a cobra. When we spotted another much smaller and harmless snake later and hollered, Trung about jumped in a tree.
After dinner, we had the night safari. You pile in the back of a jeep rigged with benches, and a ranger drives quite recklessly down the paved roads while another ranger stands in back and shines a powerful spotlight into the trees and grass. When he sees a light reflecting back out of the eyes of something, he raps the hood of the truck, and the driver screeches to a halt. The animals mostly just watch warily unless we're too close, and then we have to look fast as they scamper. We saw a civet cat this way, one mouse deer, and a couple dozen sambar deer.
The next day we took a jeep to a drop-off point and from there took a 10km hike to the crocodile swamp and back. We spotted a couple interesting birds on the way and also while resting at the ranger station at the swamp. We encountered some macaques, which our guide spotted but we never did. We could only hear their cries and see the tree tops rustling.
We were back at the camp by lunch time, and after that and showering, we ferried back over to meet our driver. We had a good time getting to know our guides along the way. Huy and his wife had twin boys five months ago, and they hope to move to her parents' house in the provinces to open a pharmacy, which is her profession. Trung is a genuine conservationist who has worked 15 years in jobs like this. He is the one person we've met with some ind of academic expertise whose English was good enough that we could learn about it. He hitched a ride back to Saigon with us, because he had an English exam, which he needs to pass to get licensed to be a tour guide, which he would like to expand into. We dropped him off at a crossroads in the suburbs so he could have dinner first with some family and then we plunged into the city traffic for the last push and were home in time for an early dinner.
-Robert
Snakes and leeches!
We're safely back in Saigon from our hike in the forest, without even a mosquito bite, but with a tale to tell about narrowly missing much worse. We'll write after we catch up on sleep. In the meantime, enjoy the photos in the slide show on the right.
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