I was very grateful for a companion that spoke English. I’m sure he was too! They had been travelling around the country for 5 weeks and I was probably among the very few he had time to sit down and have a proper chat with. We sat around contrasting and comparing our previous experiences with Viet Nam compared to now and touching on the ideas of politics. I spoke about the Vietnamese people in Australia and their opinions and he filled me in on things he has learnt in the past couple of years about the Vietnamese.

He made the interesting observation that the Vietnamese are among the most capitalist of all the Asian countries he has visited. Everyone here has a side business or will sell anything to you. I made the supposition that it was probably because of the French influence, Western culture is more capitalist and after occupation they probably picked it up. He told me that recently to make Viet Nam are more attractive place for foreign investors they have outlawed persecution if you protest and picket.

The attitude of the people to the Communists there is very different to back home. In Australia where the people who fled after the war nurse old grudges and teach their children to campaign against it. They call talk back radio and spill vitriol against them. Here they are treated simply as a fact of life. They can be somewhat annoying because of the new motorcycle laws requiring helmets and carrying only one passenger at a time. At least in the city you can bribe your way out of it.

However my newfound friend has enjoyed his wife’s homeland and thinks about doing 6 months here, 6 months in America once he’s retired. They are looking around for land to build on around here.

Incidentally he pointed out something that I took for granted but I didn’t realise that most Westerners wouldn’t. The Vietnamese drink ice with everything. Everything. The tea you get at a restaurant is ice tea. They drink ice coffee. And they drink ice beer. As a person who has drank ice with everything and abstains from coffee and beer I didn’t see this fundamental difference! I asked my aunt the next day about it, if you were able to get hot tea and she replied that you have to ask specifically for it.

We went via motorcycle to My Tho where my dad’s property is. I asked my mum why we didn’t just book a taxi for like $30 and carry all our stuff with us but my mum was like “waste of money”. So we left my suitcase at Aunty 4′s. I also got told off for having such a big suitcase.

The house is on a busy large street and the main bedroom is in the front. It is god damn loud. It was exactly I remembered – the continuous roar of motorcycle engines and the frequent honking. Even at midnight. Couple that with my mums snoring, it didn’t make for a good nights sleep.

I was sent to have a shower which was another boil-your-own-hot-water-scoop-it-from-the-bucket affair. You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to going back home to having a hot, hot shower.

The next morning I woke up and went out to the markets with my mum and Aunt. I got some fabric to have an ao dai (traditional Vietnamese costume) and went to the dressmakers to get it made up. Pink of course! I get one every time I come back to wear to weddings back home. The dressmaker thought that I was so tall (gasp! that’s certainly news to my boyfriend).

Then my mum took me to the beauty salon. Which is not much like beauty salons back home at all. I got a facial done for the princely sum of 60,000 VND ($2.70). There are 4 beds lying next to each other with no partition. When asked, nobody does waxing. Apparently the war against hair isn’t the same here. As everyone wears trousers nobody bothers to wax their legs. Even when I asked to get my eyebrows redone it was with a razor and not with wax and tweezers. Women tend to shave all the fuzzy hair off their face, but that is all they do. There is an obsession with long lashes so fake eyelashes are big business here.

But as I lay down, the beautician asked my mother if my breasts were real and even copped a light feel. Holy crap. The lack of personal body space strikes again.

Back home they do a lot more steaming of the face to open up the pores and remove blackheads. Here I just got half an hour continuous facial massage which was glorious. They had a mini massager which I feel in love with and promptly bought one at the end of the session. My mum grudgingly handed the dough over.

Man she’s been tight on the purse strings when it comes to here. She goes off and spends a million here and million there and when I ask for 500k to spend around town she wants an accounting. It’s bloody annoying. The only reason why she’s holding my money is because she insisted. Now  she’s fighting me tooth and nail for everything I want to spend. I’m nearly 30! She drops 5 mill at the jewellery store without blinking and then saying to me I need to be frugal when I want to go to the supermarket.

Apparently it’s all about concern for my welfare etc not having too much money so people won’t rip me off etc or people snatching my bag etc BAH!

The mosquitoes have plagued me here in My Tho. It is right on the delta but as I am in town, there isn’t as much natural breeze as in the country. As a result mosquitoes come and bite me. But they are a stealthy lot. You don’t hear them buzzing around, you get feel the itchiness come out from nowhere.

My Aunty 7 and I went out for a wander last night as we went for icecream. The place we were at didn’t hand me a menu until I asked for it which funnily enough had titles of what the general category was in English like Coffee, Tea & Mocktail but the rest of it was purely in Vietnamese.  The mobile phone revolution was such that my middle aged aunt who doesn’t even have a motorcycle licence was practically on the phone the entire time we were there. Oh God how the advent of telephones have improved their ability for gossip a thousand fold. They don’t think anything about picking up the phone for any reason and just calling for a chat, pass gossip.

If you meet someone and have even a brief conversation you are bound to here at least 1 persons life story. It is a very social mindset but one that protects their own. They don’t introduce themselves to random people, you have to be introduced or know someone that knows them. Then they have open arms.

This only extends to their conversation though and not their pockets. They also a culture who values money above all. Corruption is rife here. You got to pay if you want anything.

Speaking of which I accidentally ripped off somebody here. My aunt runs a photocopy shop and she left the door open whilst my mother and her went out. A girl asked me to do a photocopy which I did as I knew how to operate a photocopier… and then asked me how much. I had absolutely no idea and picked out a random figure, 10,000VND just under 50c. She paid. Later my aunt told me it would have only cost 2,000 VND. Oops.

Over icecream, my aunt who is a devout believer and Sunday School Teacher asked about my church going habits and I said that I didn’t go anymore. She expressed sorrow and disappointment.

We caught a cab there but I suggested we walk back if it was only 1.5km.  We walked down the street past the cathedral which had a giant statue of Mary back lit with horrible fluorescents. There were street vendors selling all kinds of stuff but I settled on a deep fried goods one who had a fryer in the street plugged into god knows what. I had a prawn wrapped in vermicelli, battered quail egg and a hac cao (those prawn dumpling things at yum cha) deep fried.

By the way, I’m totally sick of hot pot now. I’ve had 3 days out of the 6 I’ve been here with a promise of an even huger one upon my sister’s arrival.  I miss potatoes!

My allergies have kicked up as the dust in the city is pervasive. No matter how hard people try to keep things clean it gets everywhere. My aunts statuette of Mary is in a plastic case to keep it clean but the case itself is coated with dust. I am blowing my nose constantly.

In other news I went to the post office again to only find out… they don’t sell post cards of the city I’m actually in. Total lameness. I granted that My Tho is in the middle of nowhere but I still managed to get a postcard in Boggabri when I was there and that was way more quaint than this place.

This afternoon I am going to pick up my boyfriend, my sister and her fiancée and my sister’s parents in law. Then the lounging around will end and trip will begin in earnest with a 2 week long tour. I bought some Australian wine and some Vietnamese coconut sweets as a present to my soon to be extended family. I’m rather nervous about meeting them but really happy I’ll soon see my baby.

On the way to the airport we are going to the hospital to visit my cousin who just had a motorcycle accident. He’s broken 7 ribs, his right collarbone and his right leg. The streets here can be deadly. One of my aunts friend said I should totally learn how to ride a motorcycle here and zip around town. She’d even get me a licence. Then my mum said no freaking way and points to my cousins story as evidence.

Sigh. The trip now will be different with the meeting of people who are seeing Viet Nam for the first time. I hope they won’t be disappointed.

Still no postcard,

Cecile

Incidentally, Android market seems to know I’m in Viet Nam based on god knows what and half the apps that were available were in Vietnamese…

But I did go out to Ben Tre and have a look around.

Ben Tre is much prettier than Sai Gon in my opinion. It’s still a little out of a way town, but fast being developed. As it is only newly developed – the buildings are newer, further apart and less crowded which gives you time to appreciate them. Cruising down Road 60, it’s been given a face lift with trees planted in the dual carriageway. Lights are hung over the roads that will light the town up at night.

But it is definitely not a tourist town.

I went to the postoffice to see if I could pick up another postcard to send off my friends only to discover – the post office does not sell postcards. And none of the street vendors which sells everything from Oreo cookies to Sugar Cane juice to cheap knock off clothing to motor bike parts do not stock them either. In fact, Viet Nam though it is courting tourist dollars, is not tourist kitsch. I found that even the public toilets in Sai Gon were not marked in English and I only got by with my passable Vietnamese reading skills.

However out in the country, the prices were cheap. No one tried to rip me off by stupidly inflating the price, the prices were written on the product and I got some discounts by going around with my cousin.

The markets were exactly the same as I remembered. Think Flemington markets with a copious amount of food. My cousin did some grocery shopping and damn the food here is cheap. 10,000 VND ($0.45 AUD) for a half kilo bag of oyster mushrooms.

In large basins there are all sorts of live seafood. Fish freshly caught and still breathing. Eels that are slithering around. I even saw snails and frogs sold by the kilo. I really must try some French food whilst I am here!

But the markets are never cleaned so there is a slight stench of rotting food. It is dank and the floor is wet. The pathways are just wide enough for a motorbike to go through and some people were driving their motorbikes from stall to stall. I am used to a much more sterile environment back home.

Whilst I was there I bought some Chanel knock off sunglasses for 160,000 VND ($7.50 AUD). I am definitely a Westerner. I unerringly picked fashionable types of sunglasses up that cost 1-3 million VND ($50-150 AUD). I refused on the grounds of stinginess.

I have weirdly become extremely frugal whilst in Viet Nam. My mum is on a spending spree but I look at the product and do comparisons to Australian prices and figure out whether or not it is worth it. I guess it helps that my mum is holding all my money and refuses to give me more than 1 million VND pin money at a time and I can’t use a credit card anywhere. I guess the large extravagance of $1000AUD knee high Italian leather boots that I bought the day before I left the country has contributed to my need to be stingy.

Or it could just be the Asian in myself that I have successfully repressed all these years in coming out for a holiday.

(On an aside note, I saw a Sheridan Australia shop in Vincom Shopping Plaza. I asked how much they charged for a set of sheets. Fully 14 million VND! That’s $700 AUD. Holy crapsticks! I’m buying my sheets from Myer when they have a 40% off manchester sale.)

Speaking of Asian, my Aunts are trying to shovel food down my throat every time I twitch. They offer me food of all sorts, fruit, meat & noodles which I don’t have the energy to eat. It’s too damn humid to be eating all the time. Back home my mother is constantly telling me I’m fat and that I need to cut back on my portions but here my Aunts are like ‘Eat! Eat!’.

In general though, I’ve stuck manage to my guns and only eat what I would normally eat at home. I did acquiesce once when my Aunt offered a home made ice treat made of sliced sugar banana, crushed peanuts and coconut milk. Delicious.

My cousin has taken me out to breakfast for the past two days and we’ve gone to places on the street that cater to the ordinary people. The prices are insanely cheap for 16,000 VND ($0.70 AUD) for a bowl of pho. But the portions here are significantly smaller such that I can actually clean out my plate. It makes me so happy to have sensibly sized portions of food. I’m sure however my boyfriend will probably require at least 2 portions though.

But the sanitary conditions of the country have much left to be desired for. Behind that market place in Ben Tre there is a river. And when you look over the side of the railing it is full of rubbish. In the vendors that I ate at people threw their tissues on the floor. The frequent swampy ponds that run alongside the roads here are now full of algae.

The food here though is amazingly fresh. I had a fresh laid egg with my rice this morning. So fresh, the chicken was actually wandering around the tables I was sitting at whilst I was eating breakfast.

Plastic bags are everywhere. All the things you buy to takeaway are put into plastic bags with rubber bands on top. I went to buy a bottle of 7-up across the road and she gave it to me in a plastic bag and kept the bottle for recycling. They also serve ice differently here. Instead of cubes, they freeze the ice in stainless steel cups. When a customer requests ice they take it out of the cup and hit it with a steel mortar until it breaks in half and plonk it in the cup or bag. Recycling is non-existent here. There is no recycling service. I don’t know where all the rubbish goes given there is such a high density population.

The roads of Ben Tre are full of motorcycles with only the occasional motor car which are usually trucks shipping goods or bus services. I find it amusing to walk past bus stations that are all empty because everyone here either has a motorbike or a bicycle. And even more amusing though is that though anyone on a motorbike is required to wear a helmet, people on bicycles are not so they wear the coolie hats to protect them from the sun.

Women here are obsessed with pale skin. Some women have taken to wearing flesh coloured stockings (yes under their thongs) and long gloves to cover exposed areas whilst on the road. My family seemed to be blessed with pale skin and strangers think I look so nice being pale. They know I’m obviously an outsider not just because of my pale skin. The fact I’m wearing a skirt in this country town for one. In Sai Gon it is uncommon but unremarkable. Here, nobody wears a skirt unless they are a kid playing at home. My accent is also a dead giveaway. And given the fact I whip out my camera out at strange things.

I find it hilarious that because I’m a Foreign Born Vietnamese they treat me like I’m totally ignorant and a pet they need to look after. They think it’s amazing I know how to use Vietnamese money… the denomination is printed on the thing! They still think of me very much a child despite the fact on closer to 30 than not. And they think I look very young for my age.

I guess it’s because by the time women are 30 here most of them have families or working themselves to the bone to eke out a meagre living. They probably look a lot more careworn than I do.

I took some time out today to visit the graves of my mother’s parents and dead brothers. I bought some carnations at 30,000 VND a bunch ($1.40) and laid it on the burial mounds.  Burial traditions are different here. They build coffin sized mounds up off the ground despite burying the dead in the ground. And they bury them on their lands, not in cemeteries.

So whilst at my long dead grandfather’s property I had a walk around and remembered my childhood holidays to Viet Nam there. I was terrified when my cousin zoomed along the concrete pathway going towards the house that a miscalculation on either of our parts could land us in the swampy waters. I remember at the age of 11 borrowing Aunty 4′s bike to get around the roads only that the breaks were broken, I couldn’t stop and fell into a swamp with Blinky in the basket. I remember sitting in the crapper only to have the bridge breakaway underneath me and my mother walking in to pull me out. I remember lighting kerosene lamps as back then the electricy failed every other day.

But now no one lives there any more as it passed into my Uncle’s family who’s children are all female and they live with their husbands family now.

Staying at my Aunty 9′s house has been really pleasant. It has a bathroom. Tap and toilet works but the shower doesn’t so I do scoop showers. I frowned in consternation as I realised there was no toilet paper in the bathroom. Then I realised that the extending mini shower head next to the toilet was for the sole purpose of washing yourself after you were done because the toilet probably drained out into the swampy areas behind the house.

My cousin who married an American sent them the money to build their house. However though it has a nice façade, it has been covered up with a verandah extension with a door completely hiding the front of the house. The extension is a mixture of corrugated iron and wooden boards. It makes it look cheap and sad. I guess it is for practical purposes as my Aunt runs a part time sugar cane drink stand there, but it is horribly uninviting.

Technology hasn’t come into the country as it has in Sai Gon. Despite that the house is kitted out with gas stoves and has a flat screen LCD television, we had hot pot on a paraffin based stove instead of the butane gas cartridge ones. The street side vendors where I had breakfast cooked meat on a makeshift coal barbeque. Very few people own computers. The shops here don’t give receipts let alone use tills.

I’m glad it seems that time has moved slowly here in the country. I go to my dad’s house in My Tho tonight which he has fitted out with air conditioning. Another huge point of difference here is the wiring. They hard wire immovable appliances like air conditioners and hot water systems instead of plugging it in. Also there are no plugs near the ground like at home. Most of the plugs are where the light switches are and then they run extension cords if it isn’t in a convenient place. OH&S is not alive an well in Viet Nam one must assume.

Anyway that’s it from me for today.

With love online because I can’t send you a damn postcard!

Cecile

Whilst conversing with my cousin who speaks excellent English, I taught him the slang term “pussy whipped” which he thought was hilarious as he offered that as the excuse why his brother couldn’t make it.

My cousins all come from very different circumstances. Some of them are stupidly wealthy. As in they drive Mercedes Benz 4wd. Have CCTV security in their houses. Sending their kids to private schools to the tune of $10,000 USD a year. But some are subsisting only marginally above the poverty line.

A set from the country came in the van that picked my mum and I up to take us back to my mums hometown, a little known out of the way place called Tan Thach which is halfway between the major towns of Ben Tre & My Tho. My mother has always felt responsible for this family. Her closest sibling, an older brother died tragically in the war leaving a young family with 3 children – one of which has some mental retardation. Her loyalty to her long dead brother has her supporting them generously whenever she comes ‘home’.

This cousin lives off land my mother inherited and passed onto him and can’t even afford to buy a cheap toy bike for his son. My mother bought a toy bike at the supermarket for the little tyke. The child was absolutely delighted. He has his own bike! The study of contrasts is amazing.

A couple of my cousins have married foreigners and live overseas. They send some of their money home to support their immeadiate family here. At Aunty 9′s place where I am at the moment is a virtual palace of granite and concrete – a far cry from the tiny wooden shack that I remember from my youth. It has mod cons like running water, gas stoves and toilets. Aunty 4 is doing well in that she got a brand new Electrolux fridge.

But one thing did come up that was just like old times was that I had to boil up hot water for my shower. Pick up a scoop and dump it over my head. I realised that the bucket of water (though probably 20L or so) wouldn’t fill a quarter of my bathtub. And I live in a country of water restrictions.

In some ways it pulls feelings of distress in me. I take a lot of things for granted. In Australia even if people weren’t doing very well for themselves at least with welfare it’ll make sure they will never starve. My family here has no such guarantees. It makes them a grasping, desperate lot which is why they come to my mother and beg her for money.

Another shock to my system is that the memories of Viet Nam is very different to what Viet Nam is today. My cousins are no longer small emaciated children but kids in university quite rounded on processed foods. Large shopping malls full of international brands with food courts boasting a whole host of different cuisines. French bakeries, American takeaway joints and Korean supermarkets are du jour.

I asked my cousin to take me to Cho Lon on a sightseeing tour. It was dank and depressing. Insanely claustrophobic. Full of crap wholesale. I went inside and looked at the fountain but it was all the water was caged up to stop people polluting in it. I was so dissapointed.

The past beauty of Sai Gon has died under a cloud of smog and skycrapers and bright lights. The French colonial buildings that used to make it renowned are no longer maintained and their facades are grimy. There is no heritage left in Sai Gon. Joyriding pillion on the back of motorcycles as my cousins took me out gave me plenty of time to observe the city.

My cousin agreed with my assessment. And I feel sad for the death of the Sai Gon in peoples memories due to the onslaught of progress.

 They are all required to wear safety helmets on motorcycles these days (which is fantastic because I felt sure we were going to die at some point at the speeds we were going though my cousin was driving at a moderate 10km/h) which was also new to me. I bought my own today so my cousin could continue taking me around on her motorbike – it’s Hello Kitty! (there will be pics at some point, but as I’m using mobile 3g to upload this I’ll wait till I get real wifi). An absolute bargain at 220,000 VND ($10 AUD).

Another real adjustment that I haven’t quite gotten used to is the absolute lack of privacy and personal body space. My cousins think nothing about dragging me by the arm, putting their arms around me even though I only see them once on average every 5 years. And in Sai Gon staying at Aunty 5′s, I had to sleep with my mum and a cousin, 3 of us on a bed lying crosswise so we could all fit. They don’t knock on the doors. They think nothing about getting changed in front of you as long as you’re the same gender.

People on the street think nothing about jostling people along. Really pushy salespeople will grab you by the arm in entreaty. Life is frenetic out here and sometimes it scares the crap out of me. I get some leeway because I’m obviously a foreigner. I wouldn’t want to stay too long in Sai Gon. Though I love my cousins there and hanging out with them, I was glad to get a respite and go to the country.

So my mother and I returned to her roots. And though some of my cousins have built up some wealth and big houses – the general feel hasn’t changed. As soon as you stop having concrete, it’s muddy and full of greenery. The plant life here exudes a vibrancy that oft drought stricken Australia simply does not have. Coconuts are everywhere. This is the Viet Nam that I remember.

And though I’m ecstatic I ditched my mum at Aunty 4′s and staying overnight in Aunty 9′s palace with *gasp* the ability to sleep alone in the bed (because one of my cousins is in Sai Gon studying) I am glad I took the time out to return here with my mother.

I know that this place will never be home to me. But I have a few memories of here and I find it comforting that some things haven’t all changed in my mother’s country.

This post served as a bit of a rant. I’m slightly over tired due to my mum’s tendency to wake up at 5am to start chatting to her sister when I’ve only just flopped into bed at 1am. I’ve definitely slept a lot less whilst here. I’m starting to feel a whole lot better about Viet Nam as opposed to the last time I was here 6 years ago which I have a ton of bad associations. Also probably because my father isn’t here trying to pull the strings of everything I experience.

 But here I am. And I’ll make the most of it.

Sai Gon is a dirty and dusty. It is certainly not a beautiful place as attributed to the famous “Sai Gon Dep Lam“. Definitely interesting, but not beautiful. The smog here is pervasive. Anyone (basically middle class and lower) who ride motorcycles wear face masks to protect them from smog and carbon monoxide.

But it has changed a lot since I was last here 6 or so years ago. The proliferation of motorcycles has quieted down and been replaced with a smattering of cars – including cabs that are readily available. The traffic is definitely not as bad as it used to be, but still a bit of a scary ride as I saw a motorcyclist trying to cut off a car and failing. They were all right as they were all going like 10km/h, but still, not pretty.

Crossing the road here is also an adventure. Motorcycles zoom past you with little regard to pedestrians, in fact they expect you to get out of their way. One almost careened into me whilst I was in the parking lane because cars was slowing the street down so it decided to take a short cut down basically what was a footpath.

Capitalism has made it’s mark here with high end boutiques and department stores littered here and there. Certainly all the major haute couture labels and jewellery stores. It is a different shopping experience. To ensure nobody steals anything, the customer service people pounce on you the minute you wander in their section, taking note of everything you touch. Even if you are just browsing over the testers in the cosmetics section. It’s very in your face.

There is security everywhere. Apart from the communists on the corner (or as my mum suggests that I refer to as ‘policemen’), the surge of brand name stores comes with it large security personnel. There is also a ‘tourist police’ to ensure the safety of tourists. High end stores have found a prescence in Viet Nam, so store security is everywhere.

The products are different too. Increased overseas development has had brand name foodstuffs produced in Viet Nam. Less than a decade ago, all the softdrink like Coke and Pepsi were imported from Malaysia. Now it is produced en masse in Viet Nam. Milk which was imported UHT from Australia now is produced in tetra packs there. I was hard pressed to find a MacDonalds at the time but now I’m tripping over KFC in most of the food courts.

Supermarkets here are sponsored internationally as I’ve been told that very few people here would have the money to set one up. The generic storefront out of people’s houses are still available in the  the tucked away alleys, but the international supermarkets have many Korean, Japanese & French products.

As a result of readily available processed food, the shape of the people of Sai Gon has changed. When I went shopping last, I was an extra large. The girls here are now as curvy as I as they are raised drinking milk and eating the same crap I grew up with. Beer being sold alongside softdrink in every shop, the younger generation have beer bellies.

But that’s Sai Gon. Things are different here than in the country which I will adjourn to tomorrow.

However the most interesting thing I found the last day is the changes in my mother. Here with her friends and her family, she’s allowed to be who she wants instead of being under the oppressive thumb of my father. She’s pushing my cousins around, doing what she wants, saying what she thinks. That’s not to say she’s become a different person altogether. She’s still totally in my face all the time about trivial matters. She absolutely won’t let me out of her sight unless accompanied by one of my family. She’s still gossiping about everyone and everything. Just that she’s doing it in louder tones and not trying to disguise what’s she’s doing.

Also she’s having a load of fun spending money. She saved up all her earnings and now she’s not being her thrifty self. And she’s soooo pushy. Asking for discounts and free samples whilst at the Shiseido counter. In a department store.

I have been enjoying the shopping whilst here admittedly getting stuff I would buy at 75% of the price in Australia. But generally I prefer shopping at home. Customer service is very hit and miss in Australia, but the pushy methods here I can live without.

I went to “Nha Hang Ngon” (translation: Delicious Restauarant) which is favoured by tourists. It was very atmospheric and comparatively pricey. I could barely eat though as the heat makes me less hungry and my aunt has been trying to shovel food down my throat every chance she walks past me.

Anyway, preparing to ditch my mum for a night out and having… KOREAN BBQ IN VIETNAM. I know. Absolutely unbelievable. But my cousins suggested it and as I dislike Vietnamese food in general so I was totes in! I’ll let you know how it compares to good old Stratty.

Still 4000 miles from home and decidedly more communist!

Cecile aka Charlie

I’ve fulled Charlied up and gone off the wilderness of Vietnam to visit my relatives and go on a tour of the country without the controlling influence of my father with my elder sister and her entourage.

But for the first week, it is simply my mother & I going a few days early for some bonding time with my relatives and some shopping.

For the most part, I didn’t want to go. Just the last week was exhausting, tiring and I hated everybody especially myself. I hated the idea of leaving my beloved for a week until he joined me on the trip. The creature comforts of my home. The unfinished project I would be leaving behind at work.

Travelling with my mother – no picnic. The constant nagging and double checking when I really haven’t lost the item in question. The having to pack very minimally in my suitcase because my parents packed so much random crap. Having to carry my clothes on the plane because I couldn’t put it in my suitcase.

My father is a jackass. My boy stayed overnight and gave me a lift to the airport. I got there BEFORE my father because we took the toll entrance as opposed to driving miles just to avoid it. Stood outside the entrance with the Vietnam Airlines sign. I even called. But he doesn’t pick up, calls me 5 minutes later and tells me off for not going with him in the first place to help my mum with the bags… despite the fact he drove PAST me, drove PAST the entrance to the door for Vietnam Airlines. He ranted and raved how he’d been waiting for 10 minutes which was impossible because I had been there for 10 minutes so why didn’t he pick up when I called?

My mum and I bundled into the check in area and I told her my father was totes lying. She agreed, saying that he only called as he pulled up and didn’t pick up as he was driving. Just let sleeping dogs lie, you know what he’s like.

So with all this saga, I ended up overweight at the baggage counter. The lady suggested in the very strongest terms that we should check in the bag my mum had. 15kg at $10 a kilo. Because I had to carry a fuckload of crap for my parents. I said to mum just pay the damn thing, he’ll just rant at me for being overweight when it was due to his damn 20kg bag that we just had to bring.

However, while I was in the Tax Refund Scheme line, I had a lovely chat to a lady named Abby who invited me to couch surf if I was ever in Chicago! Highlight of Sydney International.

Oh, and my father rang twice while I was in the terminal. I hadn’t even got on the damn plane yet. Speaking of which, Vietnam Airlines is not exactly an experience I treasure. Like seriously.

Firstly, it’s the airline that Vietnamese origin people take. Some of which are absolutely obnoxious. Just generally being pushy, raising all hell for no reason. One particular lady was trying to get us to check in stuff for her in the queue. In the plane she was generally noisy and inconsiderate. This is not to say all Vietnamese people are like that.

Plus sitting next to my mother who just wouldn’t sleep but to poke at me, trying to grab my hand for basic palmistry and looking over my shoulder at everything I was doing was vastly irritating.

The food was terrible. The seats barely tolerable – but only because the seat next to me was empty. My mother and I both got seats with screens that didn’t work. I wanted nothing more than to turn around and just go home. Also wanted to punch my father for making me acquisece to his pointless nationalism and innate stinginess for travelling Vietnam Airlines.

I got off the plane in one piece. Except in Vietnam they get you to pick up your luggage. And then when you leave the airport have to X-ray it. It’s stupid. And being raised in Australia, I stand in queue and take my turn. People don’t do that. People just dumped suitcases after mine and I hadn’t even finished unloading my trolley. They were just assholes.

And the 20kg bag that my dad made us take that was overweight was full of metallic stuff which warrent the customs officer to pull us out of line and we had to show her what was in it… shower and tap faucets. Holy crap.

Got out of the airport after that snafu and into the bosom arms of my mums family. And picked up in a freaking Mercedes 4WD. The progeny of Aunty 5 are doing well for themselves.

Saigon traffic is less insane than I remember. Maybe because it was a Sunday afternoon. It was still freaking intense because the cars honk their way through motorcycle traffic which is everywhere. Obviously we aren’t going faster than 20km an hour but the roads weren’t built for cars to drive alongside. It felt harrowing.

After dinner, a new simcard for my phone (with a data plan of 400MB for like $5) and a refreshing of family ties, I found myself to be persuaded to go to my cousins house for a bout of Karaoke. I allowed my 16 year old cousin who has a freshly minted licence to drive me through the streets back to her place. Who was initially worried that my weight would put her off balance due to her inexperience! But we got there alive and sang together just the two of us in English 80-90s pop till the older contingent joined up. 

Then I allowed my other cousin who had drank the better part of 5 beers in my presence with a high enough blood alcohol level to loose his licence in Australia to drive me home on a motorbike though despite being midnight the streets of Saigon were still moving.

I would never do that in Australia. Ever.

Holy crap it was fun.

I’ve told my mum that I’m going to ditch her and go to dinner with my cousins while she hangs with her friends. It’ll be different when I go back to the country town that my mother is from but right now I’ve enjoyed the few hours of time with my family.

Now to take stupid photos of Blinky looking outrageously cute!

Signing off over 4000 miles from home.

xoxo