Hangzhou and Shanghai

Probably the highlight of our recent China trip was our last day spent in Hangzhou, exploring West Lake and surrounds. This thousand year old lake is one of the most famous tourist attractions in China and is surrounded by lovely landscaped gardens, pathways, bridges, pagodas and temples. And as the photos shows, the lake is right next to a prosperous city of 4 million plus people. It was created from a lagoon in the 8th century, and gradually beautified and developed over the next centuries. When Marco Polo visited in the 13th century he remarked that Hangzhou was one of the finest and most splendid cities in the world. (And when you visit you will be reminded of this fact many times). As China's fortunes lagged in recent centuries it wasn't so well kept, however over the past decade it has been restored to the pristine state we experienced it in. From what we saw, one of the many signs of China's wealth is the impeccable state of their tourist attractions, another example being this temple below.

On one side of West Lake is the bustling city, and the other rolling hills and tea plantations, and the occasional temple like this one. I've never visited a city where you can go from busy downtown to tranquil countryside in a matter of minutes. It makes for a great tourist destination.

Shanghai was great too, such an interesting combination of old traditions and modern development. One of the most intriguing experiences we had was wandering through this gathering of people on a Saturday afternoon in People's Park in central Shanghai. There must have been about a thousand people there all with the one goal in mind, to find a spouse for their son or daughter. My friend had told me about these match-making events but I had no idea that it would be on this scale.

It seems that each parent comes with an A4 sheet of paper like these, detailing the essential characteristics of their child, so you can just browse the sheets of information until you find one that looks like a good match. The atmosphere was very convivial. I did wonder if some people just came for the social aspect, or as with real estate and the way people visit open houses, some were not seriously looking, just generally interested in the market.

China bound

Later this week we will head to Shanghai and some nearby cities.

This is my favourite photo from a trip to southern China we did a couple of years ago. It captured a very sweet moment involving this little girl. We were walking the cobbled streets of this quiet old town near Yangshuo. It was mid winter, as evidenced by her puffy quilted jacket and boots. I remember this way of dressing well, some of the children were so tiny and so puffed out with quilted layers, they looked like little Michelin men.

It was so cold and the streets were deserted as we approached her house. We heard the reprimanding tones of a mother from within, and then saw the little girl scurrying out of the house with a mischievous look. There were some more cries from inside, but she chose to ignore them as she tucked into her corn cob with relish, and looked away wistfully into the distance. 

I think small moments like these are one of the best things about travelling, and may be the things that stay with you years later. I hope to have some more next week.

Happy Teacher's Day

Today is every Vietnamese Teacher's favourite day of the year. They may receive flowers, as this earnest young lady in the poster is, from the little outstretched arms in the foreground. Or they may receive other gifts and cards expressing sincere gratitude and best wishes, and will most likely be contacted by some of their former students. Actually, this day used to be a holiday for all teachers, they would just stay at home and old students would visit to pay their respects. These days, it's a day of celebration held at the school.

On this day Vietnamese students always extend their kindness and hospitality to foreign teachers too. As I'm not teaching here anymore, it was a little sad not to be involved in any of the celebrations this year, though I did receive some messages from my old students. 

The importance of this day is indicative of the deep respect for this profession in Vietnam. It is a shame though that this reverence could not be reflected in higher salaries. They earn around $100 dollars a month; hundreds of thousands earn less than this in Vietnam, but compared to other professions it is low, so they commonly supplement their income by privately tutoring students after school. Thus, many teachers end up working long hours, and the average class size is about fifty students.

They certainly deserve a day to be honoured!

Cafe Culture

As I’ve noted before in this blog, cafes or ‘coffee shops’ as they’re often called here, are very popular for Vietnamese of all walks of life. Students – of which there are many, with over half the population under 30 – like to go in big groups and sit on a fruit shake for an hour or five. Well – heeled types come to the more expensive ones in District 1 to pose and play with their latest hi-tech accessory. And anyone with a laptop likes to take advantage of the free wifi, which is pretty much a given these days. Hanging out in cafes is high on the list of freetime activities here in Saigon. They are generally quite big, often covering multiple levels, and those aimed at the younger generation have flashy interiors and loud techno/dance music. But there are a few places that are starting to do their own thing.

The ‘Hi End’ Café has 3 branches around central Saigon. The name may conjure images of something sleek and luxe, but this café is far from that. It’s a study in cream, beige and brown. The tables are covered with what look like old pieces of checked picnic rug. In the evening the lights are turned right down and each table is candle lit. It might sound a little drab, but what is distinctive about this place is not what can be seen. It’s that each of the Hi End cafés has a hand made sound system, which with its assortment of valves, speakers etc. takes up most of the back wall….

As can be deduced from my inadequate description above, I’m not someone who has ever put too much thought into the technicalities of sound systems. I would probably not care too much about this feature of this café, that is, if I had not experienced its effect. This contraption produces a purring, warm, velvety sound, which along with the low lighting and somewhat log cabin-ish interiors creates a unique and very intimate atmosphere. And the choice of music is befitting of the retro stylings of the sound system. They play a selection of jazz, folk, and various crooners and balladeers, mostly from at least 30 or so years ago. Nothing anywhere near abrasive, just smooth sounds, at the perfect volume to set the mood but not distract. No wonder there were so many canoodling young couples here. If you’re like the average young Vietnamese person, living in a small house with extended family and very little personal space, I could see why you’d be lingering here with your darling.

We follow the signs to the ‘Princess and the Pea’ café, down a quiet alley in District 1, into a nondescript building and up four levels. Before the final flight of stairs to its entrance, shelves of footwear indicate that shoes are to be removed. It’s the first sign that the Princess and the Pea is fairytale theme meets Zen simplicity. We enter a space not much bigger than a living room. There are no chairs, just thin square cushions and low tables. It feels a bit dark and sombre, but then I start to notice the details. The drink coasters are squares of floral printed cord, and the same fabric is used on the lamp shades, which are not actually attached to lamps. To accommodate the modest space, the “lamps” are 2 dimensional wood fashioned to look like a 3 dimensional lamp, and attached to the wall with a light bulb behind them. Surplus mini size cushions are stowed away in the tiny tables. A more literal tribute to the fairytale is found at the end of the room; a dozen child size mattresses piled up with a bamboo ladder resting against them. And embedded into each table is a photo of a somewhat androgenous looking figure, crashed out on the pile of matresses, with wild hair and limbs akimbo. There are also tasteful fairytale themed prints on the purple walls.

I suspect the pint-sized waitress may be playing a role in the fairytale too. Her manner of serving us is gentle and respectful, but she doesn’t say a word and keeps her distance, like an obedient servant.  And she is dressed in a floral printed peasant style dress (which I notice is the same fabric as the curtains). Overall this cafe has a restrained vibe, but with sweet and whimsical flourishes too. I admire the person who has used a small space so cleverly and to such good effect.

These cafes are unique and inspiring, and successful, given the full tables when we visited. It’s refreshing to see something different. And as I wander around central Saigon, seeing other new hand painted signs leading down alleys and up narrow staircases, there maybe a few more to come.

Rain, Bikes and the Bitexco Tower

A few months ago, I wasn’t so happy with was going on weather-wise in Saigon, but now with the rainy season set in, I have nothing to complain about. Something I read the other day calculated that it rains 2 out of 3 days during this season in southern Vietnam, and that does sound about right to me. Though that would be more of an average, because sometimes you can have a week without it or 10 days of showers every day.

Most often, the clouds build in the mid afternoon and it rains at about 4, or the sky may tease for longer and it won’t rain until the evening. It’s amazing how fast the clouds can build, the sky darken and threaten, but then it’s all over without a drop of rain. Though it might not rain where you are, if you’re lucky to have a big sky vantage point you’ll see that another district is getting dumped on. I do love the rain that is a thorough dumping, bouncing off all surfaces and making everything glimmer.

When it’s not raining the cloud cover drops the temperature a few degrees, so I also find it to be good bike riding weather, which has become a regular weekend activity these days; sometimes heading out to a certain destination or others just in a general direction with an unexplored district in mind. But then intriguing alleys may lead to detours and you never know where you might end up or what you might see along the way. It’s a good way of finding new local restaurants, tucked away pagodas, crumbling colonial buildings that are surely not long for this world, markets and shopping streets specialising in a certain obscure product.

Of course the traffic can be a little overwhelming, but also negotiating your way through it can be strangely meditative, if you’re in the right mood. It can also be irritating, which is why I’m only heading out on the weekends. I think that if I was riding during weekday peak hour and putting up with Saigon traffic shenanigans every day, this activity would lose its appeal.

My vehicle of choice is the trusty and ever popular Martin 107 bicycle. Ridden by all types in Vietnam, from monks, to construction workers, to school children, the young and old. The standard product comes with a basket and gears are unheard of, which is fine. Saigon, on the edge of the Mekong delta flood plane, is hill-less and rarely very windy.

Actually, I’d never thought that much about the lack of wind here, but when I read someone else mentioning this, I thought about all my leisurely bike riding and realised that it was true. What I was reading was an article about the construction of the near complete 68 floor Bitexco Financial Tower. You cannot miss this new construction in Saigon, as it’s about double the height of the previous tallest building. It soars hundreds of metres beyond anything else, very impressive but also sticking out like a big, somewhat lonely, sore thumb at the moment. In the article the architect was addressing concerns over the safety of it’s unusual jutting out helipad, positioned adjacent rather than on top of the building, and he cited Saigon’s lack of wind as a reason to have no fear that any helicopter was going to go veering off and chopping its way through the building.

The other reason I like bike riding in Saigon is because I can meander and explore without getting lost. Sure, I might not  know exactly where I am for a while, but if I keep riding I’ll come across one of the main roads after not too long. And if that doesn’t work, all I need to do is locate the Bitexco tower and head in its general direction to find my way home.

Ha Noi

The celebrations in Ha Noi have got me thinking about Vietnam's northern capital, a place of lakes and literature, where the people are seen as more conservative than their cousins in the south.

I like this photo of these old timers having a chat by Hoan Kiem lake. This lake is right in the centre of town, next to the famous old quarter. Although it draws many tourists, you'll still see the older folk of Ha Noi there, comtemplating the water or taking some gentle exercise. I always wonder what they think of all that's happened in Vietnam in their lifetime. The stories they could tell.

Unsurprisingly, given Vietnam's history, the differences between north and south and thus Hanoi and Saigon are quite pronounced. A southerner may not always have the nicest things to say about his compatriots in the north, and vice versa. There's a simmering rivalry, and if you wanted to take part in this and endear yourself to a southerner, there are a number of things you could say about Hanoi. You could say the food is too salty and that you prefer the south's sweet flavours, or that the people aren't as friendly or that the weather is miserable. 

But are these things true? The differences in the food are fairly universally acknowledged. And Ha Noi is known for being grey and drizzly for a few too many months of the year. And the people? Well, Ha Noi is the capital of this communist country. It's cooler and perhaps you could say its culture is more Chinese influenced. Although Chinese traditions are fundamental to  Kinh Vietnamese throughout the country, the south has also been influenced by various and shifting cultures such as the Khmer and Cham. 

There is a difference in culture because of differences in history, and I have had experiences in Ha Noi where I would agree completely with the southern view of the north, but maybe that's just my own prejudices from being so much more familiar with Saigon. In Ha Noi, I'm a tourist in a place that I feel like I know because it's Vietnam, but then am often frustrated to find that I don't. In Saigon, well, even after four years, some days I still feel like a tourist, but at least I know my way around.

1000 years of Thang Long- Ha Noi

This week Hanoi is celebrating its 1000th anniversary. 

In 1010 AD, the capital city of Vietnam was relocated here from a nearby northern province. It was originally called Thang Long, or ascending dragon, as this is what the King claimed to have seen in the Red River at the time. Hanoi has endured occupation by the Chinese for 20 years in the 14th century, who changed the name to Dong Quan, meaning eastern gateway; then the French who established it as Indochina's capital in 1837, and the Japanese during World War II. Under the Nguyen Dynasty in the early 19th century, the capital was also briefly located in Hue.

The celebrations in Hanoi have been many and fitting for this deeply patriotic country which has survived through countless wars, poverty and famine and now in itself could be described as the ascending dragon. Flags and flowers line the streets and buildings in central Hanoi have been spruced and painted. There have been dozens of events and ceremonies, including the opening of a new park and museum, and recognition of the Thang Long Royal Citadel as a UNESCO site. 

I borrowed the above photo from a local newspaper, which was reporting the arrival in Hanoi of 1000 Heroic mothers, Heroes of the Armed Forces and Labour Heroes for the celebrations. These heroes spent 2 weeks travelling 2,000 kilometres from Dong Nai province near Saigon. They visited a number of historical sites along their journey to the northern capital, including the home of the Hung Kings, the founders of Vietnam.

Nong Duc Manh, the General Secretary of the Communist Party, stands in the middle of this photo, and I was particularly interested to read about the woman on his right, Kan Lich. She was the first ethnic minority woman to be honored with the title 'Hero of the People's Armed Forces.' The article I read listed her achievements, which included fighting in 49 battles and killing 150 enemy soldiers. She also met Ho Chi Minh on seven occasions. Here she is (top right corner) on one of those occasions.

Apparently there is a Vietnamese saying, 'When war comes, even women have to fight,' and the stories of fearless, epic female warriors go back thousands of years in this country.

Soda Chanh

Vietnam is a wonderful place for non-alcoholic drinks. In many a cafe, menus are a weighty tome  showcasing an array of tropical fruits, juiced, blended and concocted in a multitude of imaginative ways. Then there's the coffees in all their iced, frothed and flavoured varieties, and usually a page or two devoted to tea creations as well. 


However, as thirst quenching is often my biggest priority, I often skip the exotic and opt for a a simple soda chanh. Freshly squeezed lime and soda over ice is an extremely satisfying drink when you're feeling a little overheated.


For me, this drink has three ingredients, as described above. But as you can see from the picture, for most it is not complete without a tablespoon or five of sugar. It made me smile the other day, when this drink was most respectfully placed in front of me. It's funny how soft  drinks are usually loaded with sugar in the west too, but it's all nicely blended in so we can kind of pretend this naughty additive isn't there. 


It's an interesting difference in perception, but sugar's lack of taboo status in Vietnam and liberal use, especially in drinks, is somewhat concerning. This morning I had a freshly squeezed orange juice and requested it duong, just a little sugar, so she only whacked in 2 tablespoons. There's no doubt Vietnamese have a bit of a sweet tooth, especially southerners, because it's used a lot to balance flavours in savoury food too. With growing affluence, it seems that they will be treading the same path of health problems that western countries have.


When you're ordering a drink in Vietnam, a handy phrase to know is khong duong, no sugar.

Tet Trung Thu

Today the Mid Autumn festival will be celebrated in Vietnam. This is a celebration of the Harvest Moon, said to be the biggest and brightest full moon of the year. Traditionally, it’s also an event for children. They make lanterns to resemble the moon and carry them along the streets on this night. They enjoy dragon dance shows and are given toys.

Of course, there is a culinary element to this celebration, which these days is what the festival is most associated with. For weeks before Tet Trung Thu, many bakeries are given over to the sale of only one product, Mooncakes.

Mooncakes are like small pies, eaten cold, and with an array of fillings mixed together; bean paste, lotus and watermelon seeds, preserved chinese sausage, a jam made from squash, roast pork or chicken, but most importantly salted duck eggs. The cooked yellow yoke being the symbol of this lunar celebration.

Mooncakes vary greatly in quality and there have been a number of companies exposed as selling substandard products in the past few weeks. Most people buy from a handful of trusted bakeries that set up temporary outlets all over the city at this time. I am told that to be guaranteed of good quality, you should spend 50,000 dong (about $2.50). However these days, as they have evolved from a gift for children and family into a way of maintaining business relationships and clients, mooncakes with exotic ingredients can cost up to 2 million dong ($100). Now they are a way of expressing gratitude to certain people in your life, like your landlord or the local police, as one article I read suggested.

These cakes are definitely something that should be tried, because they don’t taste like anything else. With the combination of fillings they are often quite dense and rich in flavour. In this way, one that I tried this year reminded me of and English fruit cake, but with more texture and a strong pork flavour.

So yes, you should try them but they are a bit of an acquired taste.

Vung Tau

Any city can drive you crazy sometimes, but sometimes HCMC really really gives you that ‘I’ve got to get away from here’ feeling and you need to act upon it without haste.

The quickest and easiest weekend getaway is Vung Tau. It’s definitely not the most popular place with foreigners though. There are no long stretches of white sand or backpacker friendly bungalows. It’s closeness to Saigon means that it’s more like a city beach. But sometimes a beach is a beach. Waves make the same sound wherever you go. And Vung Tau has a lively local flavour, so it’s a good place for people watching.

The other big attraction of Vung Tau is that you can avoid road travel by catching a boat there. If you’re feeling a bit strung out by Saigon, spending a few hours negotiating your way out of this city and the surrounding built up areas isn’t going to help you much. But for this trip you step on the hydrofoil in the centre of Saigon and step off at Vung Tau’s cresent shaped bay, which is hemmed by modest sized green hills. This is the front beach.

Our hotel is on the back beach, near Vung Tau’s famous landmark, the big Jesus statue. Jesus looks out on a pagoda, which has been built on a small island just offshore. At low tide you can walk to the island along a strip of shell encrusted rocks. Women in conical hats and long sleeved shirts tap away at these rocks to fill their buckets with teaspoon size pieces of pieces of slippery grey flesh.

After walking out to the Pagoda, we hire a couple of deckchairs in the shade of one of the many multicoloured umbrellas that fill the beach. A woman with skin on her face like a sultana approaches. She’s collecting empty cans and drinking a 333 beer herself. She squats down and chats with us for a while, tells us we’re beautiful. Finally she asks for 10,000 dong to buy some rice for lunch and is on her way. While she sits with us another two woman pass, one offering lottery tickets and the other with a big basket of fruit. There’s also a woman selling trinkets. I buy a cowrie shell, which is engraved with a beach scene and with a few other embellishments has been fashioned into a turtle.

We hear the familiar tune of the ice cream man, and a shiny metal wagon selling fried fish balls wheels past us. These are very common vendors on the streets of Saigon, but in Vung Tau they’ve made their way to the beach. All around people are cracking and sucking their way through freshly cooked crabs. The broken shells pile up while their more fortunate younger cousins keep busy digging up the beach. They scurry out of their holes with balls of sand, then toss them away with disdain.

For lunch we eat Canh Chua. And after the best bowl of this sweet sour fish soup that I’ve ever eaten, I resolve that I must learn how to make it. I’ve heard that it’s a staple of a southern Vietnamese woman’s cooking repertoire so I may see if I can get someone to teach me the secrets of this very satisfying broth. The key ingredients for the sweet sour flavour are pineapple and tamarind. The fish they’ve used today is mackerel, cut in steaks. It always has bean sprouts and okra and you eat it with steamed rice, no noodles in this soup.

Many people wisely avoid the heat of the day, so it’s from about 4 pm onwards that the back beach really starts to get the crowds. There’s a lot of people splashing around in the water, most following the Vietnamese fashion of staying fully clothed while swimming at the beach. Groups of men play soccer and there’s now food stands lining the beach where you can buy freshly grilled seafood and beer.

The next day we visit Vung Tau’s latest tourist attraction, a cable car to the peak of one of the hills on the front beach side. Our ticket gives us not only a return trip but entry to the Eco-park at the top. The brochure tells us of the wonders that await us, Ho Chi Minh statue and garden, peacocks, a big Buddha, retaurants and a lake. You can even camp there. We chug the 5 minutes up the hill with anticipation.

Well, of course, Uncle Ho’s already in a prime position, but it looks like they’ve got a way to go with the other attractions. There’s lots of paved footpaths and expanses of green grass and speakers blasting out announcements of how great everything is, but not so much to see and few visitors, maybe because the price is quite steep for the average local holiday maker. The place has an abandoned feel before it’s even really begun.

What’s probably most interesting about our excursion is checking out the scale model showing the plans for expanding the cable car system all over Vung Tau. There will be a cable car across the bay and lines to the other peaks. And they are going to build a monorail, basically making a loop from the big Buddha to the big Jesus.

As we walk around the front beach back to the ferry I notice how many big cafes there are, the multi-level kind that pump out techno music and offer every kind of coffee, juice and fruit shake you could think of. In comparison with the eco-park, these places are buzzing with people and activity. With the plans for more cable cars and monorail, it’s like they’re going to turn Vung Tau into a big fun park, but will it take off? Are there enough people that can afford the entry tickets, when it’s free to go to the beach, or only costs a dollar to buy a drink and sit in a café for a few hours.

Yet another bold and somewhat risky plan for development in Vietnam. It will be interesting to see what happens.

National Day

Happy National Day to Vietnam. On this day in 1945, Ho Chi Minh proclaimed independence from French and Japanese occupation, four years after he had returned from his epic overseas adventure.

This statue of Uncle Ho stands outside the museum which documents his life, his work and campaigns. From this point by the Saigon River in May 1911, 21 year old Nguyen Tat Thanh, as he was known at that time, set out to find the way to save his country. He was away from Vietnam for 20 years, travelling to many countries including America, France, Russia and China. He worked as a chef in London, he was a founding member of the communist party in Paris and was arrested in Hong Kong.

So this statue commemorates the young man leaving his country to take on the world, which from all accounts he did with great zeal. These days though, he’s stepping out into a very different world.

A day of hope

Today is a special day in Vietnam, of a kind that needs to be reflected on but does not bring much to celebrate. These photos are part of an exhibition to commemorate Agent Orange Day.

If you described the American War, as it is known here, as a deep scar on this country, the use of the chemical defoliant Agent Orange, or Dioxin, is more like an open wound. The devastating effects in regions where it was sprayed will last for generations to come through birth defects. And the chemical still poses a threat in a number of places where it was stored during the war, which have yet to be adequately cleaned up. People recently tested in these “hot spots” still show levels of Dioxin 300 to 400 times higher than what is deemed safe.

There are estimated to be around 3 million victims, which can be broken down into people who died at the time of its use (400,000), babies born with birth defects like spina bifida, blindness, missing limbs and mental retardation (500,000) and people who have contracted cancer or live with other chronic conditions (2 million).


The United States retains its right for Sovereign Immunity, and thus will not take responsibility or give adequate compensation. In 2007, they did provide 3 million dollars… remember how many victims I said there were? The Vietnamese victims’ lawsuit against the chemical companies, like Dow and Monsanto, in the US was also unsuccessful, despite a number of appeals. The latest ruling by the US Supreme court, in March 2009, means that the case will not be reconsidered. American veterans who were exposed to Dioxin during the war were more successful in their lawsuit, receiving 180 million in 1984 as part of a settlement.


When Hillary Clinton visited Ha Noi a couple of weeks ago, I did hear that discussion of compensation was on the agenda. However I haven’t heard anything since, and I won’t be holding my breath. She and Bill are very popular here, because people still remember fondly their visit in 1989, just as the country was opening up to the world again. If she could be responsible for for the kind of compensation that is appropriate and much needed, what a hero she would be!


Indeed it is a very sad and frustrating situation for all of those affected. The exhibition though reveals something deeply human. It shows the courage of the victims and the quiet persistence of those who help them. I walked away from it with tears in my eyes, but also with a feeling somewhat uplifted.


This is also the first time I have seen such a prominent and honest display of the plight of Angent Orange victims in Vietnam. Colour, building size photos of deformed victims line Dong Khoi street near Notre Dame Cathedral, and then there is another display opposite Vincom Shopping Centre, HCMC newest and flashiest symbol of progress.


I am glad that the government is not putting any gloss on this issue or hiding it away. Does it signal that they will be more vocal in agitating for justice? One can only hope.

Singapore

Some say Singapore is boring, sterile, over-regulated place but coming from Saigon, it’s always a pleasure to stroll the clean streets of the Lion City.

There may be a few too many signs telling you what not to do, and your penalty for doing it anyway. There may be a few too many never-ending shopping centres that seem to be designed to disorient. But then there is the food, sold in open air food courts with literally hundreds of stalls, offering Chinese, Malay, Indian, Singaporean dishes and so packed at meal times that you may end up wandering with your tray piled with food, despairing of ever actually getting to eat it. (That wouldn’t have been me, of course).

As exemplified by the food, Singapore truly is a multicultural place, which those people who dismiss it as boring seem to ignore or not see. Maybe they didn’t go to Little India, or Chinatown or Arab Street.

Staying in Chinatown was a good way to see the old and the new Singapore. There were the old men playing checkers in the square on Sunday afternoon, surrounded by spectators. There were the heady smells of traditional medicine shops, of roast pork and soup broth. But you also couldn’t ignore the tourist shops and stalls, and the old Chinese shop houses now renovated to become boutiques, cafes, beauty spas and hotels.

Of course it’s a shame to lose the character of the shop houses as the traditional businesses are pushed out. But at least this kind of gentrification retains the old structures. They are safe from being bull dozed into another dull high-rise, as I see happening everywhere in Saigon.

I also wouldn’t complain about this area because within it there was the most enchanting book shop. (Again, a comparison thing, the dearth of English books in Saigon made finding this place feel like stumbling upon a rare treasure). During my weekend in Singapore I was expecting to spend an afternoon in Borders to get my book fix, but instead I made three visits to this little place, which was about the size of Borders’ discount tables. As you entered there was a staircase lined with old school typewriters. Vintage cameras were arranged above the bookshelves, and every book looked like it had been lovingly put in its right place.

By way of comparison, what resonated the most during my stay was an exhibition documenting Singapore’s now extinct street artisans and peddlers. As I looked at black and white images of scenes from 50 to 100 years ago – the streets cluttered with baskets, bicycles and food, people selling, people eating, people just sitting or standing around, a story everywhere you look – I couldn’t help but be reminded of all the little things I see as soon as I step out of my door.

I may complain a lot about Saigon’s careless development, but it still has a long way to go before it loses its traditional flavour.

Takeaway chicken

The boy walking towards the camera in the middle of the photo is eager for our custom. Understandably so, there are about a dozen other places we could go on this small street in Chinatown to buy a roast chook. Apparently, Andrew tells me, the patriarch of the business was perched behind us on the other side of the street, orchestrating the touting and generally controlling his workers by clapping and pointing to what needed to be done. An interesting management style.

We did come here to buy a takeaway chicken. The potato salad was already made at home and waiting for its accompaniment. I had read that this was the street to get a succulent blown skin roast chicken, by a guy who writes about food in expat magazines here. I wasn’t sure if I should trust a man whose writing oozes with his passion for Saigonese food, yet still chooses to wear a turtle neck sweater in his profile photo, but it was a good excuse for a trip to Chinatown.

 Once we’d located the street, we took a wander around the area before committing ourselves to a particular vendor. We kept following the street past the chicken joints, and across a main street, where the bustling food stalls and restaurants petered out into a dusty stretch of single storied corrugated iron roofed houses. People looked at us like they didn’t see our kind in these parts so often. Old folks sat here and there, contemplating the street. Not much was going on, except for a card game that had drawn a dozen or so onlookers. A little girl caught up with us, obviously because she wanted to check us out. We said hello and she walked with us for a while.

We came to an intersection and were intrigued by an uncommonly tree-lined street leading off to our left, again it seemed worth the detour before buying our chook and heading home. This street was more prosperous. The houses were small and mostly two storied. As often happens in Vietnam, the houses opened right onto the street, so you couldn’t help but peeking in. The interiors had tiled floors in soft pinks or other pastel colours, red and gold Chinese ornaments, a retro feel. It was a happy little street, and definitely gave you the impression of being somewhere else.

 At the next intersection, it was only slightly surprising to see more of the glass and metal cases, but this time the carcasses filling them were darker in skin and longer in shape. I stood close to one and noticed how the fat had dripped and congealed, hanging suspended from their rear ends. Yes, we had walked from chicken street to duck street.

It was starting to feel like dinner time so headed back, where we were beckoned in by this boy. I was surprised to find that our chicken had to be taken from the glass case and deep fried, before being chopped, and put in a bag with some salad and sauces. So it wasn’t really a roast chicken after all. No doubt our taxi driver’s mouth was watering as we drove back down Nguyen Trai street to District One, as our dinner steamed up his cab with the smell of deep fried succulence.

And the verdict on the chicken? Honestly, it was good but not great. But it really didn’t matter. This was one of those experiences where the journey was the reward.

Contrasts

The above photo was taken on the way to the airport to go to Hoi An, where the weather is quite different from Saigon at this time of year. The blue skies up there looked like they'd been painted on, so clear, not like anything I'd seen for a long time. However with this sky brilliance comes hot, hot, hot, from very early until late in the afternoon. I was slipping in and out of my clothes for my fittings at the tailors. 

Thich Quang Duc

This is an interesting development in Saigon. I stuck my camera though the metal gates still surrounding the construction of this monument to Thich Quang Duc, the monk who self-immoliated in 1963, to protest against the Diem government’s persecution of the Buddhist community.

The monument will be located where this event took place, at the intersection of two main streets in central Saigon. On the opposite corner there is already a very modest altar and small statue of him, but you could miss it if you weren’t looking for it. This statue will take up a whole corner block, with grass and trees surrounding. As everyday I pass another example of old and intriguing places making way for new office blocks, it is refreshing to see something other than money and progress being celebrated.

Apparently Thich Quang Duc was encircled by monks and nuns 7 or 8 fold deep as the flames engulfed. And what is much celebrated about this story is that his heart remained intact, and is still kept in a nearby pagoda.

David Halberstam, an American journalist who witnessed the event said, ‘I was too shocked to cry, too confused to take notes or ask questions, too bewildered to even think... As he burned he never moved a muscle, never uttered a sound, his outward composure in sharp contrast to the wailing people around him.’

Time to cook

HCMC offers such a fantastic array of cheap and delicious food, that like many expats who live here I don’t cook that often. Eating out here is always enjoyable and offers the most accessible way for a foreigner to experience the culture. And, you have to be shopping at the local market, rather than expat grocery and produce shops, to make it economical to cook. Local markets can be fun and colourful, but also hot and tiresome, which makes it easy to fall out of the habit of going and drift back to the air conditioned and expensive foreign supermarkets. Especially during the hot season we’ve been experiencing.

However, I’ve been watching Luke Nguyen’s wonderful cooking show about Vietnam recently (thanks Kerry and Peter!) and have been inspired to get back to the market and start chopping. Above is my version of a recipe from the show, Ga Ham Kieu Tuoi, Chicken cooked with fresh pepper. What intrigued me about the dish is that you cook the chicken in the juice from young coconuts, which is one of my favourite drinks here, but I’ve never cooked with it. Mr Nguyen cooked this amongst the pepper plantations on Phu Quoc Island. I’m not sure if the green pepper I bought at the market was the much revered Phu Quoc pepper. However I do know I had coconut juice from Ben Tre in the Mekong Delta, a region famous for all things coconut.

The recipe worked well, though I don’t think I added enough pepper. It really does need a lot to balance the sweetness of the coconut juice. Anyway, it still tasted pretty good, and it’s great to have the ingredients, some of which would require some shopping around in Australia, so readily available. Looking forward to more inspiration from this very entertaining and mouth-watering show.

Vegetarian Soup in Chinatown

 

A very different bowl of soup today, a 100% vegetarian bowl of abundant flavours, textures and colours, that I slurped my way through out in District 5, HCMC’s Chinatown. Today is the first day of the lunar month, so many vendors sell wholly vegetarian dishes, to suit the practices of their Buddhist customers.

This soup contained wontons filled with a taro mixture (instead of pork), fresh rice noodles which were tinted by the bright orange broth, two (maybe more) kinds of mushroom, squares of deep fried tofu, (chunks of) tomato and cabbage, shredded banana flour and morning glory, bean shoots, a few fresh green herbs, and something crumbled on top for the final flourish, I think it was wafer thin sheets of deep fried bean curd. As the wide girthed soup lady plonked it down in front of me, it was such an explosion of colour that I was dying to take a photo. However this was a particularly intimate table and seating arrangement, even by Saigon street food standards. I was shoulder to shoulder with a rather stern looking Buddhist nun, so it didn’t feel like the time to whip out my camera.

The food was much more successful than the intended purpose of my visit to Chinatown, to buy some fabric at a market out there. I did find a lot of fabric for sale. Actually I think I found the mecca of ‘day pyjama’ fabric for Saigon women, (see woman in yellow above) I passed stall after stall of this stretchy synthetic stuff in every garish pattern you could imagine. I know it suits millions of Vietnamese women, but not what I was after.

The photos above were taken at a pagoda just around the corner from the Fabric market. I’m pretty sure I haven’t been to it before. Though the hustle and bustle of Chinatown usually leaves me fairly disoriented, so I may have stumbled upon it another time. It was quite busy here, again because of the new moon. I think I saw the youngest worshippers I’m yet to encounter; a very small three year old girl praying most enthusiastically, and being very bossy with her younger brother to make sure that he did too.

Hu Tieu

Pho may be Vietnam’s national dish, but out on the streets of Saigon, the soup that I see being enthusiastically slurped most often is Hu Tieu. I’ve heard it said that this pork based noodle soup has Chinese origins, so it’s a good idea to try it in Chinatown, though I think you’d find a fine example on almost any street here.

Sometimes it’s sold from old style wooden wagons, though more commonly the set up looks like this. This vendor sells near our house. I’ve been going here for breakfast on the weekend recently. She makes a very satisfying bowl of soup. The pork broth has just enough sweetness. And I like that you get extra greens on the side to add to your bowl; the curly leafed celery tasting one goes especially well.

The contents of the soup will vary from place to place. There will always be pork meat, but it may be fine slices, or minced, or a hunk of flesh still attached to the bone. The noodles may be wheat or rice, fresh or dried. A prawn is usually placed on top as a final flourish. At this place she also adds one fishball, the white orb you can see bobbing on the surface.

 The only problem is this little soup stand is quite popular, so we always seem to end up at the table in not such a great position, next to the man cleaning motorbike parts with some chemical cocktail. The smell of sweet pork broth and celery competes with toxic fumes. There is a solution though, keep your head close to the bowl, and slurp those noodles down as fast as you can. If you asked a Vietnamese person, they would probably say this is the only way to eat a bowl of soup anyhow. 

...some rain

This happened 5 minutes after I finished writing on Sunday. Ha!

It's taken from our front door.

(Oh - I just watched it, not such great viewing in this format, just turn up the sound and you'll get the idea.)

More weather whinges

The blasting hot season seems to have come to an end. Now we have days of cloud cover and “some” rain, but the weather is still not as it should be.

Again, yesterday as everything darkened and the temperature dropped, I was fooled into finding a strategic position to watch a downpour that never came. It did rain a little, but there was nothing satisfying about it. It didn’t cleanse and calm the city (or me) with its coolness, because when it doesn’t rain enough, all you get afterwards is steaminess. Sun showers are common these days too, which people here describe as two Gods in the sky. And the rain is so scattered. If there’s a shower and I ask someone at work about it the next day, even though they live in a nearby district it’s likely they didn’t get any rain.

To summarise, this rainy season is yet to have any conviction.

I don’t know how to take a photo of my discontent with the weather, so here’s something unrelated and more cheerful. I reckon I see a new poster around town every week, and when there’s nothing to commemorate or celebrate, you’ll just get some stirring words and a general reminder to follow Uncle Ho’s example. I like the colours and composition of this one, and the use of the lotus petals to frame the great man. Is it just me, or is the military fellow in green a little more prominent than the other citizens?