We
made the obligatory stop at the DMZ bar and cafe this morning, just
a short block or so from our hotel. Named for the area around the
17th parallel which separated north from south Vietnam
under French occupation and subsequently reunited in 1975, the bar
is a local attraction. The focal point indoors is the pool table,
although when we walked by at night none of the several hundred
backpackers inside was playing. It's a full menu of western food
including burgers, fries and pizza, and they serve lattes. It's not
so easy to get a latte; the preference here is for sweetened
condensed milk topped off with just a little Vietnamese coffee. So
mid-morning, after picking our way through a couple of local markets
in search of cheap rain covers, we parked ourselves at a noisy
outside table on the busy Le Loi boulevard and took in the sights and
sounds of a Monday morning in Hue.
The
honking of cars and poisonous exhaust are, well, exhausting. We are
probably the only ones here not covering our mouths to protect
against the fumes. (Our guide, Hai, here in Hanoi, tells us that
honking is a big part of driving culture in Vietnam: it's meaningless
but you have to do it.) There are motorcycles, scooters, cyclos,
bikes and pedestrians all sharing the road. Tiny women laden with
daily wares for sale cobble along, their feet and ankles like shock
absorbers against the weight of the pole. No one drives fast, and
everyone seems to move quite peaceably along, through, and across
this busy thoroughfare. Today the street scene is particularly
colourful because it is raining and the brightly coloured and
patterned rain capes keep riders and bikes dry. The hood is tucked
under the helmet, and faces are covered with masks. A clear plastic
window at the front of the cape allows the light on the bike to shine
through. We watch the traffic, laughing at the sight of the faceless
drivers, their capes billowing out the back, like sails on a ship.
Our
first guide, Dong, taught us how to cross a busy street like this. As
the three of us approached a busy five way intersection in downtown
HCMC, Margaret and I both hesitated, but our guide just stepped off
the curb, and kept walking, a barely-noticeable hand gesture
indicating our intent to cross. Noticing the looks of horror on our
faces, he assured us it was fine. “Just keep walking, slowly”,
he said. Motorcycles and cars approached from every direction,
swerving around in front and behind us, but never getting close, and
never stopping. We just kept walking until we reached the other side,
not missing a beat in our conversation. We've not had any difficulty
getting across a street since. I think the key is that small hand
gesture, walking slowly, and the fact that no one is actually driving
very fast. I don't think I'll try this in Edmonton though!
Back
to the DMZ bar, where they actually know how to make a latte. A
little coffee, a lot of milk and some foam! We had lots of offers of
cyclo rides, with covered seats to keep us dry, and I chatted for
some time with a young man working there. At 25, he told me he didn't
like living in his parents home, and he wanted to get a better job so
he could move out on his own, and start his life. After studying at
tourism school for two years, he thought he should have a better job,
but he would need to keep studying English (there's not much in Hue
for young people to do), and possibly move to the city where there
are more opportunities. He is typical of the young men and women I
have talked to here. They have studied hard, have big hopes for a
better life here in Vietnam, but are very uncertain about whether
that will ever actually materialize.
Your description of the traffic reminds me of both Bangkok, where the horns just don't stop honking, and Beijing, where everyone on bicycles wears a protective mask and long white sleeves cover over the hands. It is good that you found a latte....not always easy to do! Marlene
ReplyDeleteIt's been much easier to find a latte in Luang Prabang. The French influence is very evident here in the bakeries and pastries--nothing I'm getting excited about! Margaret is the coffee drinker though and she says it's Lao coffee at American prices. In Vietnam almost everyone on a motorcycle wears a mask, but it's to keep the sun off their faces. Our guide, Hai said that in summer you can't find your wife among all the women because they all look the same--big sunglasses and a mask!
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