These two bathing beauties (unusually wearing swim suits not clothes) were keen for me to take their photo - I was glad because it gave me an excuse to snap the man in the backround. His pose is typical of the people doing morning exercises.
These women are wearing these clothes not to keep warm but to protect themselves from the sun even though they were working under a tarpaulin. Vietnamese women try very hard not to get tanned as it is considered very unattractive. They were most concerned about me sitting uncovered in the sun.
Good Morning Viet Nam - July 10, 2008
One of the excellent things about living here is that it is an insomniac’s paradise. It does not matter what time of the night you get up there is always somebody doing something interesting in the street. I have always been an early morning person and am accustomed to being the first one up but that is not usually the case here.
As well as the coming and going of the residents various workers ply our little street. At about 3:00 am the street cleaners sweep the road. One of the sounds of Viet Nam that I will carry with me is the scratching of their twig brooms on the sandy asphalt during the night. The official recyclers then do their rounds picking up, and picking through, the little bags of rubbish that we leave on the curbside. Household rubbish here is a sought after resource. Often the neighbors have already sorted through the rubbish before the collectors get to it. From conservation perspective I highly admire the amount of recycling that occurs but I am still adjusting to the intrusion of having people inspect every item that I discard. I have to admit that I am storing up my ATM receipts etc – I plan on having a little fire of these in my backyard. Another outcome of watching the rubbish cycle is that I have not been able to eat at the little rice restaurant across the street yet. I am sure that the others in the surrounding streets where I sometimes eat also take advantage of leftovers from the rubbish bags but I cannot bring myself to dine at a place that recycles my own leftovers!
Speaking of dining, I learnt recently that one of the locals always ties a knot in her straw and pops it after having a drink. She does this to thwart the common practice of recycling drinking straws. It gives me something to ponder as I sip my favorite sinh to (fruit smoothies).
The amazing thing is that, even with all this sweeping, collecting and recycling, the country is awash in rubbish, particularly plastic bags. These, made from recycled plastic, have a slightly greasy texture and are colored dull red, blue or yellow. It seems that they have no value for a second recycle because they bloom in mounds across the countryside, on the beaches and in the parks. To my eyes many of the lovely natural places in the countryside, and the city parks that they work so hard to create, are marred by the extraordinary amount of rubbish that is piled around. In the city streets there are no rubbish bins and everything is discarded at will but it is cleaned up through the day by the sweepers.
The walls of our backyard, (which looks like a squash court) are the external walls of neighboring houses. Rather than avail themselves of the daily curbside collection some of these residents poke their food scraps, used cotton buds, cigarette buts and various other treats out the slots that serve as their windows. Unfortunately these items then end up in our backyard. Uptight westerner that I am I find this pretty offensive. I considered poking the delights back through the slots but Phuoc has persuaded me that I just need to accept this as the Vietnamese way. I certainly don’t want to start a neighborhood war that I have no chance of winning. Mostly our housekeeper attends to it but I have bought a bag of plastic gloves for my turns. At least it gives the rats something to play with! Anyway – enough rubbish about rubbish – back to the topic of this blog, mornings.
Soon after 4:00 the city begins to come fully to life. By the time that it is light (before 5:00) many people are already out having their morning constitutional. If I am not out and about by 6:00 I feel positively slovenly. Each morning a tide of people make their way down to the beach. Young and old we are lemming-like drawn to the sea. Attire for this outing is varied and often entertaining. A considerable number of the elderly gentlemen make their trek clad in pajamas (almost invariably pale blue), some wear boxers while others don a startling collection of oddly matched items such as bright stripy sportswear, long gloves and a lifejacket.
As they walk people unselfconsciously loosen up their limbs with a wide variety of rotating, swinging and twisting movements. At the beach these become even more unique and sometimes even bizarre. This morning as I made my way along the sand I was surprised by an elderly gentleman who, serious in his demeanor, executed at least six rapid forward-rolls down the slope of the beach culminating in a backward leap. Around me others were undertaking headstands with their legs skewed about their body, practicing press-up, standing with outstretched arms raised to the sky or running back and forth using what looked like rapid waltz steps. Objects in the park are pressed into service as exercise equipment. Every morning a group of old ladies gather around the cement tigers, dinosaurs and swans to gossip while they use these as supports for all manner of bends, squats and stretches. All of these activities seem to be very successful - Vietnamese people remain incredibly flexible into old age. Ninety year olds here can sit for hours in positions that I have not achieved since primary school.
Many people enjoy a swim. Very few wear swim suits – the norm is to wade into the water fully clothed then walk home dripping wet. As well as the individual pursuits groups of people are enthusiastically engaged in badminton, volley ball and soccer. Can you imagine large groups of New Zealand teenagers choosing to gather for badminton before 6:00 in the morning? These young people do not seem to have heard of the theory about teenage body clocks.
Interestingly all desire for exercise seems to be ameliorated by these early morning jaunts. For the rest of the day most Vietnamese people are extraordinarily reluctant to walk anywhere. Even fit young men are astounded that we choose to walk several kilometers across town – they will ride their motorbikes if they have to cross the road!
Not everyone has the luxury of devoting first light to exercise. The fishers are returning with their catch resulting in a bustling trade on the shore as basket loads are gathered for the market. People from the countryside make their way into town with huge baskets of eggs, live chickens and ducks, gigantic piles of vegetables, bunches of flowers and slabs of freshly killed meat balanced on bicycles, motorbikes and cyclos. When I get to the market, often about 6:30, most people have made their purchases and are making their way to work or school. I am supposed to be at work by 7:00 am but I have to admit that by the time I have been for a ride or walk, showered, hand-washed my undies, been to the market and breakfasted I seldom make it on time.
During the day people compensate for their early start by napping whenever the opportunity arises. Many people go home at 11:00 for a siesta but those who have to stay at work find somewhere to sleep too. If I go into the mall after lunch the young shops assistants are draped over their counters or curled up on the floor, the motorbike taxi drivers stretch out along their bikes and sleep soundly and road workers nestle down under a shady tarpaulin. It is a very sensible response to the mid-day heat but, apart from a few times when I have dropped off while reading a book; I have not got into the habit of it yet.
When I was out for a ride the other morning I came across a shipyard where the heavy timber boats are constructed. Without the thick paint that covers the completed vessels it was possible to see clearly the shapes of the curved planks that form the hulls. The builders seemed proud of their work and were keen to be included in the photographs that I took. I was a bit shy to go too close but I would like to return and see the method of construction more closely.
On the same outing, while I was taking photos of some canoes, a group of women making fishing nets called me over to sit with them. They spoke no English at all, and my ability to understand and answer their questions was quickly exhausted, but I had a lovely time with them. Smiles, gestures and shared laughter can make a really warm interchange. These moments are like little gems in my days. I certainly hope that when I return to NZ that I make a much greater effort to relate to people who do not speak English.
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