The Long Drive – Traveling from Quy Nhon to Ho Chi Minh City. 1st June 2008

The Long Drive – Traveling from Quy Nhon to Ho Chi Minh City. 1st June 2008

I traveled today to HCMC to begin my three weeks of language school. One of the VSA vehicles, a large 4x4 had to go to the city for some work so it was arranged that I and three other volunteers who needed to go to the city would travel in the car rather than go by train. We were joined by one of the interpreters, the driver and three of the driver’s relatives (including a five year old child) so in all nine of us made the trip. It was a long, crowded journey. Thank goodness for air-conditioning.

It is about 650 kilometers and, although this is supposed to be a standard measurement, I am sure that a kilometer is further here than in NZ! Constant traffic, narrow roads and enormous potholes mean than the average speed is about 60 km/hour. We had planned to stop overnight on the way but the driver was keen to press on, so with only three brief stops when we managed to convince him that our bums were too numb to cope for another minute, we traveled from 7:30 am until we arrived at 8:30pm. Despite the tribulations it was a fantastic trip and I am glad to have done it. The train goes overnight so I would not have had the opportunity to see so much of the countryside.

Initially the road follows the coast. Rustic fishing villages were nestled beside deep turquoise bays. There are a few resorts developments but mostly this area is unspoiled. Long narrow boats with eyes painted on one of the upswept ends and huge fishing nets suspended between poles had my frustrated photo finger itching again. Unfortunately we passed dozens of roadside stalls selling large pieces of coral. A huge amount of damage must be being done to the reefs to support this trade. One of the volunteers, Pat, is a marine conservationist. He believes that this is only one of the problems that is bringing the local fisheries very close to complete ecological collapse.

When we turned inland we drove through an area where the hills were covered in gigantic boulders that were piled in a seemingly impossible manner onto of each other. They teetered in piles like giant irregular building blocks assembled by a deranged giant.

A curious characteristic of the Vietnamese is the tendency to establish identical businesses alongside each other. This is apparent in the cities where many shops selling the same goods (for example pets, mats, stationery or electronic goods) are often lined up side-by-side. In the country-side this was also evident. In one long stretch of road there were a multitude of stalls selling melons. Only a few meters apart, each had a woman sitting under a palm leaf shelter selling identical produce. Another area, on the top of a cliff had a multitude of truck washing stalls with untended hoses spraying high into the air and for about three kilometers of otherwise isolated road there were roadside coffee stands.

When we traveled over a pass there were machines working on the hill above us. Suddenly a boulder, about a meter in diameter was dislodged and started to roll down the hill towards us. While the rest of us held our breathes our driver, Dong, calmly circuited around it just as he did the dogs, cows, children, motorbikes and buses that constantly crossed our path. As a person who has sometimes grizzled about OSH’s strictures in New Zealand I have come to see that it does have some advantages. When walking on the footpaths not only are you constantly negotiating holes, tilted pavers, tree roots, motorbikes, rubbish, dogs and stalls you are also likely to have lumps of wood or bricks casually dropped next to you from building sites.

I choose to wear a seat belt in the car even though this is seems to be considered poor form. Given the volunteer nurse’s descriptions of the hospitals’ under-resourced wards where typically there are three patients in each narrow bed and the most basic cross-infection measures are overlooked, I want to do everything I can to avoid going to one. The child traveling with us stood quietly between her mother’s legs for most of the journey. I found this somewhat distressing but nowhere near as concerning as the constant stream of children, including little babies, riding completely unprotected on motorbikes. I know that it is unreasonable to impose western standards on this emerging nation but I really worry about the injury risk for these children.

One of our few stops was for lunch. Having passed cafes in many beautiful places Dong stopped at a nondescript grimy restaurant. In this outwardly unlikely place I finally got to taste Pho Bo (beef noodle soups) that was truly delicious. The toilets here and at the other places continue to be an olfactory and physical challenge. Others who have traveled in Asia may be familiar with the process of balancing over a squat toilet while attempting to keep ones backpack and trousers away from the wet, fetid floor. Declining to use the supplied hose I always have a supply of tissues and a bottle of hand-cleaner with me. The system is not designed to cope with toilet paper so you are required to add your tissues to an unpleasant basket before flushing by ladling in a bucket of water from a nearby trough. I cope because there is no alternative. At least, so far, I have always had a door of sorts so I have not had an audience for my awkward fumbling.

One of the sights that amused me as we traveled was, on an isolated stretch of road seeing a man walking with a tray at his chest, (suspended from his shoulders), selling small red, white or yellow horses with nodding heads. Why would anyone driving along this road think “excellent – just what I needed to buy, a nodding horse”? I also enjoyed the passing trucks with flashing, multicolored religious statues on the dashboards.

About two hours from HCMC we passed through an area growing dragon fruit. These strange shaped fruit grow on succulent bushes that look like something drawn by Dr Suess. Further on there were grape vines growing on horizontal frames with sheep feeding underneath. There are plenty of long eared goats but these are the first sheep I have seen. It must be incredibly hot for them. This area seemed very poor. Many of the houses were incredibly small including some built from mud bricks and others from thatch. Some houses were up on stilts, constructed from sticks had animals housed underneath.

We passed through a number of toll gates as we journeyed. These, like many facilities in Vietnam, seem designed to maximize employment opportunities. First we would stop at one booth to pay the fee and collect a ticket. A few meters down the road we would stop at another to pass the ticket to a second person. Sometimes there would be a third person employed to raise a gate. With four lanes this meant that twelve people were kept busy. Similar systems are in place at almost any venue where it is necessary to pay for entrance.

It was dark with bright flashes of lightening but no rain when we finally reached HCMC. Absolutely exhausted I was pleased to follow along behind Noel, an ex-VSA volunteer, as we made our weary way down a little lane to our hotel. I would have been happy with anything but was relieved to find a clean and comfortable room even though it was up on the fifth floor. Extremely grateful for the young man who hefted my bag up the stairs and I fell into bed.