- Friday, the morning after we nearly floated away in our flooding house, I jumped on the motorbike to ride to work. Part of the ride occurs on Nguyen Huu Canh. a divided ten lane road. Three lanes of cars and two lanes of bikes, each with medians in between. It's a big road. As I rode along I noticed a man crossing the street. You don't see a lot of people crossing this street at rush hour. Moreover, you only rarely see a grown, nay old, man crossing the street stark naked. He was probably in his seventies (sorry Dad) and carelessly sauntered through the morning rush hour traffic wearing nothing but his skin. When he reached the sidewalk, he was enfolded in a blanket by a waiting...person (relative? friend? undercover police officer? Who's to know...). And I was left wondering if we'd accidentally slipped into an alternate universe while we bailed out our house the night before. I actually meant to mention it in the post I wrote about the house flooding, but I guess I was traumatized because I completely forgot.
- The other day I watched a girl ride a bike. That's not interesting. What was interesting was that it was a girl no older than five riding an adult bicycle. Had she been standing next to the bike, the wheels would have come up past her shoulder. Her legs weren't long enough to reach the pedals for one entire revolution. So she would push down, then let the pedals spin on their own until they reached her feet again -moving her feet backward and forward to meet the rising pedals on the opposite side. She did this effortlessly. It was amazing. Not only could she do it without crashing the bicycle, but was riding on a small road in which we were driving. She rides like this in traffic.
- I went with Reyna and her class to a "shopping mall" so the kids could play Laser Tag for their final end of year party. The Maximart, which housed the Laser Tag venue, was the most depressing mall I've ever seen in my life. Most of the items for sale appeared used, but were being sold at new prices. Most of the merchandise was faded or dusty. The mannequins were horribly sad looking (see previous post). Basically the same pouty girl in different crappy wigs and clothes. I started to take photos of them, but then realized a grown man snapping photos near an arcade transcends cultures on the creepy scale. The highlight of the entire experience was the "shuttle ride." A small child climbs, or is unwillingly placed by a Kodak-moment-seeking parent, into a plastic space shuttle. The shuttle then revolves around a central axis at the speed of ketchup, while the child holds two "steering" handles. I find that there is almost nothing in this world more fun than watching a small child be totally underwhelmed by a ride. The silent, vacant expression really is priceless. While there, I never saw a kid point and say "I want to go on that!" or it's Vietnamese equivalent. Parents just foisted the ride on them, knowing they lack the verbal acumen to say things like "this sucks" or "what the fuck am I doing on this lame ride." The whole scene was priceless. I swore to myself that I would make a video of this pathetic ride, but decided making videos of unknown Asian kids might land me in Maximart jail -which I'm certain is a place that smells funny and has copious amounts of peeling paint. I tried to get Reyna to do it for me, but she was busy keeping an eye on her seven crazed tween students. I settled for owning the air hockey table instead.
- We have started having our clothes made at a tailor in our neighborhood. It's inexpensive, and the clothes are all custom made. A men's shirt costs about $7 -not counting fabric (fabric is bought across town -about $2 for enough to get a shirt made). The shop is on the left-hand corner of a T intersection. One day I was waiting for Reyna to try on and pay for whatever she was having made. I was sitting on the motorbike by the curb. One of the shop workers told a little kid to do something. The kid, about 8, turned on his heel, marched out of the shop and into the street where he was immediately mowed down by a motorbike turning left. The motorbike stopped, made sure the kid got up, then screamed at him and rode away. The kid shook his head and continued on his errand. The guy that had told the kid to run the errand never noticed even though the whole episode happened less than 15 feet away.
- I had to drive across town at rush hour on a Friday to run an errand after work. The road through D4 between D1 and D7 is narrow, and gets choked with cars and motorbikes especially during rush hour, and even more especially during rush hour on Friday. If you didn't need your motorbike to get home, you could walk the 2km stretch faster. You basically walk your bike the whole way. It's so awful you can almost feel the lung cells mutating into cancer cells from the exhaust fumes. I was walking my bike when I was passed, going the wrong way on the street, by an elderly man riding, weaving would be a more accurate description, and barefoot on a bicycle. Why was he weaving? He was riding slowly because of the traffic, but also because he was only holding the handlebars with one hand. In the other hand he was holding a naked baby. It was a boy.... A week later I saw a woman riding a motorbike with two kids in her lap, one sleeping.
- Recently we took a trip to Nha Trang. One of the best parts of going to Nha Trang is they have a brewery right on the beach that serves beer other than light lagers. The bar is called Lousiane, and though the food is only so-so, the beer is surprisingly good. It's the kind of place that makes you wonder why there aren't more places like it in, you know, cities. Lousiane also features a swimming pool. So while the adults hang at tables and get tanked, the kiddies can swim in the pool. Win-Win. One afternoon while we were enjoying a frost beverage, we watched a man carry his young son to the pool for a swim. I suppose swimming hadn't been on the original "to do" list for the day, because this father chose to take the plunge wearing boxer briefs. Now, I don't know how many times you've seen wet boxer briefs, but they tend toward "clingy" once they come into contact with water. In the US, he wouldn't have made it to within a hundred yards of a pool wearing only underwear. But in Vietnam? Swim away! We then got to watch him parade his kid around the restaurant while waiting for his drippy undeez to dry. We were subjected to a tour of every fold and crevice.
- And finally when you visit the domestic departures area in the HCM airport, be sure and pick up a three pack gift of "wellness drinks." Made with authentic ginseng, seahorse and gecko....yum. As the Vietnamese say, "It good for health." Makes a great gift for everyone on your holiday shopping list! Quantities are limited, so order now. Make sure you avoid the small children playing badmiton in the terminal. One smack in the leg with a racquet and you won't look nearly as great in your new swimsuit.
It's officially rainy season at my house as I endured my first full soaking while driving home from the ferry terminal yesterday evening. When I woke up this morning, twelve hours after I peeled off my wet clothes, everything was still wet. I've always felt there are various levels of wet. Swimming being the wettest you can be. Followed by having rain pour on you while you're dressed. Showering barely even registers on the scale. I think we can all agree on that. After living in the desert for four years, worrying about getting wet every time you walk outside takes some getting used to, even after a year.
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