Portraits of my girl

A couple of shots of Louisa Vy at 9 months old. Her face is really looking like her mum's side of the family now despite people also saying she looks like me...

Vietnam driving test

Since returning I've been warned by friends that the police are much more likely to stop you and also refuse a friendly offer of wink-wink-nudge-nudge-put-that-in-your-pocket-and-we're-alright yeah? Although I've met some who say nothing much has changed in the 12 months I was away, some are the living evidence that it has changed (just a little). So, for the effort required to get a license, I thought better to get one rather than have my bike confiscated for a month - a big inconvenience. Anyway, being a lazy sod who has had enough paperwork to deal with in this country to last a lifetime, I paid someone to do it all for me - the hanging around and getting things translated and notorized anyway. I did have to go to the British embassy and be ripped off for one stamp (over 20 quid). Once all is ready and a brief medical that a man who was actually having a heart attack at the time could pass, the application is submitted at the office on Ly Tu Trong and you recieve the date of your test.

The test location is in Q.Tan Phu heading out of the North-West of Saigon - the unsealed road leading to it is harder than the actual test. The test is notoriously easy, and here I will document the photographic evidence. The course takes about 3 minutes to complete and consists of the following.

The figure of 8, where no one I spoke to knew if you were allowed to touch the yellow lines or not, you are not meant to put your foot down during the test either.

Exiting the figure of 8, attempt the 'straight line' (I agree, if you can't do this you really shouldn't be on a bike) and then on to the slalom. I say slalom.



Then it's on to the fearsome off-road track...



And that's it.

So after practising it is then a question of waiting for the test to start on time (or not). Luckily foreigners are afforded the luxury of going first and your names are called out. Three 'judges' sit at their desk trackside. Unfortunately, and this is a big tip for anyone with an upcoming test, you are not allowed to do the test wearing shorts. 75% of the foreigners turned up wearing shorts. Fortunately, my friend Craig happened to have his test on the same day so I stepped into his jeans whilst he donned my shorts. An unlucky Frenchman trudged out of the makeshift foreigner changing rooms in baggy trousers and a shirt two sizes too big for him, much to the amusement of the locals. It was all in good humour. The judges didn't pay a blind bit of attention to what was actually happening on the track, you could have driven into the coffee shop scattering chairs and tables and ending up with motorbike on top of you and had time to get up and resume the figure of 8 without them noticing. You finish and go and stand in front of the desk and they say 'Pass - good, very good!'. Will collect the plastic in 3 weeks.

Swine flu asides

At coop mart they are handing out useless surgical masks when you spend over 200,000 VND. Chi just refused to take one point blank. "Don't give that to me...", she said, ah that's my girl, not caught up in this non-existent pandemic.

A man came to change the toners in our Xerox wearing a mask. Chi asked "Why are you wearing that mask, are you scared of the swine flu?". "No", he replied, "I am wearing it because I thought you might be scared that I had swine flu". That pretty much sums up the madness that the WHO and the media have stirred up. "Take it off - in this house, no masks" quipped the wife.

The family keep whispering irritatingly ignorant points of view rebroadcast parrot fashion from the radio. "Don't take the baby around, it's not safe". Neighbours of the mother-in-law gossip to her - "Don't go to district seven, they have SWINE FLU there", Chi's friend not allowed to visit (despite being a grown adult). Two of our chefs from Connections Vietnam barred from working by their husbands because they might get SWINE FLU. People nattering on Facebook about WHERE TO BUY TAMIFLU (the proven to be dangerous and completly ineffective drug) in HCMC and if the vaccine is avaliable yet (untested and highly toxic, don't we ever learn anything?). Are they all crazy?!

How about less panic, fear and blind adherence to corporate media and more exercise, fresh air, healthy diet, vitamin D and good sleep. It's called an immune system people.

And yet we all have to go on, no matter how mad the world is.

But if anyone tries to take my temprature and certainly Chi's, look out because we can't garuntee where the thermometer will end up!

Saigon In Minature

I'm sure many of you have seen this as it has been popping up in magazines and on blogs but I'll repost it because it is just so cool. Saigon using time lapse and time shift photography.

Dam Gio

Dam Gio is the occasion in Vietnam's ancestor worshipping culture where family gather to remember those members of the family who have passed away. It was organised at my mother-in-law's house and was a relatively quiet affair with just Chi, her mum, her father, myself, one Aunt and Uncle and their daughter and two friends attending. In the past I imagine it was a much more sacred occasion. Some traditional aspects were still observed such as the burning of hell money and notes.





Those are real $100s by the way.

One good thing about all these occasions, a massive lunch and great food. Duck curry and grapefruit salad with bread, soft noodles and veg.



Lou had had enough by the end of lunch...



Chi's father had made a surprise appearance. He lives in the Mekong Delta In Ben Tre on a fish farm where he grows shrimp, crabs and rice, residing with his second wife and two children from that marriage, 14 and 11. Methods of communication between father and Chi are, lets say, like 1930s England. During our time in England, Chi wrote him a letter to inform of our daughter's safe delivery. No email, no mobile phone. On return, after about 6 weeks, Chi dug out her mother's old address book and started calling people down in Ben Tre trying to track him down - it's like calling the village post office which is the only place with a phone and asking after Jim the farmer who lives three miles away. The local shop assured Chi they would let her father know the news that she was back - lo and behold there he was at Dam Gio when we arrived at the house - no phone call, just shirtless, cigarette in hand and with a bucket full of king prawns and crab from the farm. There's something so romantically appealing about the simplicity of this life!

Petrol Station Madness

Having discovered Tuoi Tre's new English language website, Vietnews Online, I also discovered this story from Friday regarding a new 'decree' the government is 'mulling over' concerning retail fuel prices being set by the traders and being tagged to world crude prices. What really jumped out at me however was the following:

Another modification in the draft decree relates to the area size of filling stations. Area for parking must now be at least 20 meters in width and 10 meters from the pavement to fuel pumping machines.

The ministry estimates hundreds of filling stations in Ho Chi Minh City will be closed due to this new requirement.

Imagine the chaos if 'hundreds' of filling stations had to shut down...the roadside sellers of petrol will love that...or it could lead to more modern, larger and well equipped stations. What they should do is build bigger stations for cars/trucks only and leave the little ones for the bikes. I will try to follow this story and see if it develops any further.

Langkawi and Penang, Malaysia

Langkawi is a short hop from the Thai border and a 1 hour flight from KLIA. Journeying from Ho Chi Minh City is very easy with Air Asia and having taken off from Tan Son Nhat at 9.00am we were in our beach-side accommodation by 4.00pm. After the two hour flight from HCM to KL we hopped off the plane and onto a domestic flight from the same terminal just two hours later..all worth considering for a short break from Vietnam. Langkawi was typical of those Andaman Sea Islands - lush, green and blessed with beaches. Due to the short length of our stay we didn't explore the island very much despite it being quite small, rather opting to stay by the main resort beach of Cenang. The beach itself reminded me of Phuket - georgeous really, long, wide, a good sunset view, good enough for swimming, not too busy and fun come dusk when the locals emerge. A huge range of accommodation as well, from plush high end resorts to 40 ringget a night fan rooms. We opted for the Beach Garden Resort, German managed, about $70 a night. We'd stay there again.





Although the beach is similar to Phuket, the beachside street isn't. It's a much quieter, laid back environment rather like Koh Lanta or Phu Quoc. The road that runs through Cenang has the usual plethora of restauratants and shops selling all kinds of crap - even red bull singlets...anyway, I was less impressed by the piles of rubbish that appeared for collection at sundown and also the waft from the drains of an evening - relatively minor things but I am trying to be critical here. Back by the beach everything is as you'd expect, a lingering sunset and cool breeze.

Some more pics





Lou enjoying another meal:



Once before have I had a boat ride as bad as we did from Langkawi to Penang, and it was also in Malaysia (Borneo). Three hours of the full washing machine treatment had Chi reaching for the black plastic bags ominously hung from the ceiling all over the boat. Little Lou seemed fine until with about 30 mins till landfall she erupted like Krakatoa - who'd have known her stomach could contain so much foul smelling goo. Let's just say there was a substantial pile of laundry to be done that evening.

Georgetown in Penang is famed for its hawker food and we were not disappointed, with my misses in a wonderland of Malay, Indian and Chinese cooking. Mix this with a lot of colonial history and architecture, and you have an interesting town. From Penang it was a 50 minute flight back to KL.

Some pics from Georgetown, Penang.

Kway Teow Goreng, $1 per plate.



The best chicken satay I ever had..about 60 cents for 4.



Early evening hawker stalls lined up ready for action:



And finally, the old boys in Saigon could learn a trick or two from these colourful cyclos: