Artful Construction

This is the central post office of HCMC. It’s well frequented by tourists, who often stop for a rest on the semi-circular wooden benches near the entrance; some of them looking a little dazed by their travels, which is how I feel after the form filling and queuing rigmarole of sending a parcel here. As can be seen, it’s an impressive piece of architecture, built by the French in the early 20th century. Though as someone who visits regularly for practical purposes, I can be too distracted by the tourist mobs and preoccupied with form filling to appreciate it.

I have always been impressed by the people doing the packaging though. I know this word gets thrown around a lot these days, but some of them (eg. the fine featured balding gentlemen with a moustache) I would go so far as to call artisans. While other foreigners are rubber necking the domed ceiling I’m over at the counter admiring an original sculpture of packaging tape, cardboard and inspiration that has just been created before my eyes. They love a challenge too, you can see the gleam in their eyes as you present them with an odd shaped bundle. Often the final piece may involve some experimentation, as today when 2 boxes were  trialed before the ideal strip of cardboard was found. The lack of jiffy bags or other standardised postal bags in this country is what makes them masters of their craft . They have to improvise with 2nd hand boxes, off cuts and bubble wrap. And everything is perfectly, well some may say overly, sealed with the electric blue VN post office branded tape. I love this tape, it really sets off the buff cardboard colour.

And today I visited at 8am, before the mobs arrived, so I also had more of an opportunity to appreciate the building and the special atmosphere of the place in general. Dozens of overhead fans make it breezy and fresh, especially in the morning, and the sound of unfurling tape and receipts being printed bounces around the high vaulted ceiling. There are two rows of wooden benches and tables at the back, where people sit preparing their parcels, though some have not come on postal business. One man is reading the newspaper and a woman has English text books and a note book in front of her. I can definitely see the attraction of coming here to read or study. There used to be an elderly gentleman who would sit at the end of one of these benches with a couple of thick, well thumbed dictionaries at his side. He was a self-appointed reader and writer of correspondence. I think he did some translation, but also helped locals who couldn’t read or write Vietnamese well. Though I have not seen him for a while now.