After being in the mostly fresh air of Chaing Mai,(Tuk Tuk rides can be asphyxiating), it is a familiar shock coming back to Saigon. Greeted now at a new airport terminal by throngs of taxi drivers eager to turn off their meters for the short run to the apartment or at least to state an exorbitant price aimed to catch those unfamilair with the value of the Dong. I have mustered the effort to say ' I live here. I'm not a tourist.' in Vietnamese but it meets with little recognition all things being tonal and I have probably said. ' I would like two tins of tuna.I have large feet' but hey, one has to try...
Taxi drivers aside, it's the number of people here that struck home. Statistically, Ho Chi Minh City has 9 million people in its metro area where boundaries have been swallowed up by roads and construction whereas Chiang Mai has 700 000 people in its metro area. Of course, Saigon has 4.7 million motorbikes too which often seem like they are all on our nearby main road when you are trying to cross it but you are never truly alone here. Every street (apart from the main streets in the city centre) has its separate pitches where people eek out some kind living.
On our street alone, Nguyen Van Thu, there is:
a man selling mangoes, (green) oranges, dragon fruits
a Banh Bo vendor ( street food)
a Quan An ( a local restaurant with tables on the street)
various iced coffee and tea stalls ( 5.00am - 9.00am)
various motorbike parks each with one or two attendants who charge 2000 dong per bike ( 8p)
a car park attendant who bills the growing number of car owners.
a fruit and veg shop that spills out on to the street
Xe Om ( motorbike) taxi drivers at both ends of the street
Our street isn't that long and its amazing how much activity occurs on it with only a brief respite from 12.00 - 4.00am. Well before dawn the street creaks into action. An ostentatious cafe at the near corner has recently opened called Cheery Cafe and has decided to wake up its neighbours by blasting techno at 5.30am.Not much cheery about that but I suspect the noise hardened Saigonese won't mind. I guess there is comfort in knowing that you are rarely alone but for foreigners and westerners especially with their sense of space and privacy, it takes some getting used to. Always being watched can make you believe that every third person hanging around the corner doubles as a goverment agent ready to pass on the important yet inevitable news of just how many decadent westerners tumbled home drunk on a Friday night. Of course this does happen, there are always stories abounding about such things but mostly there is simply a sense of curiosity ( and amusement) about the way we lead our (relatively) priviliged lives. There is more kindness than anger on these streets; there is more energy than disillusionment amongst our neighbours here and although our lives seem quite seperate some times - by buying fruit from the stall or getting a coconut from the impossibly laden concicle-hat woman who passes by sometimes - it is possible to be part of a community and certainly do no harm to it.Yes, we can feel squeezed here, stared at as though we had numerous heads and nearly run over on a daily basis but it does feel like a welcome home.
