in Saigon:
1 bowl pho bo (Beef pho) on the street = 15,000 - 30,000 VND
1 pork banh mi = 6,000 - 10,000 VND
1 cup ca phe sua da (sweet iced coffee) = 5,000 VND
1 large bottle of mineral water = 7,000 VND
taxi ride from District 1 to District 3 = 40,000 VND
motorbike ride from De Than to Dong Khoi = 15,000 VND
Decent cell phone = 1,000,000 VND
1 night in a modest guest house with AC and hot water = 110,000 VND
1 touristy T-shirt at Ben Tham Market = 100,000 VND (before bargaining) - 40,000 VND (after bargaining)
16,500 VND (Vietnamese Dong) = $1 US
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Cyclo-ne
A cyclo is a bicycle rickshaw.
Do not use them in Saigon. Do not use them anywhere if you have a choice.
About ten years ago an incredibly depressing Vietnamese movie called Cyclo was released, depicting the terrible hardships endured by very poor people (in this case a cyclo driver and his family) in a poor country. It didn't do wonders for the cyclo industry, that's for sure.
Beyond that, a cyclo is a kind of relic left over from the colonial period - a time when chubby Westerners in white suits would be carted around the Rue Catinat by Annanite (as for some reason the French insisted on calling the Vietnamese) coolies. Asking somebody to literally push you in a chair seems like an indignity for both of you.
More practically, cyclos are achingly slow and actually more expensive than a motorbike or taxi, due to the effort involved. I took one last night on what would've been a ten-minute drive in a motor vehicle but instead took 45 minutes, although that was partially because my driver had no idea where he was going.
Do not use them in Saigon. Do not use them anywhere if you have a choice.
About ten years ago an incredibly depressing Vietnamese movie called Cyclo was released, depicting the terrible hardships endured by very poor people (in this case a cyclo driver and his family) in a poor country. It didn't do wonders for the cyclo industry, that's for sure.
Beyond that, a cyclo is a kind of relic left over from the colonial period - a time when chubby Westerners in white suits would be carted around the Rue Catinat by Annanite (as for some reason the French insisted on calling the Vietnamese) coolies. Asking somebody to literally push you in a chair seems like an indignity for both of you.
More practically, cyclos are achingly slow and actually more expensive than a motorbike or taxi, due to the effort involved. I took one last night on what would've been a ten-minute drive in a motor vehicle but instead took 45 minutes, although that was partially because my driver had no idea where he was going.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Crossing the Street in Saigon
It can be tricky.
The sheer number of motorbikes on the streets at any one time is staggering. They fill warehouses and crowd the sidewalks, and pour down the streets in rivers. Traffic lights are few and traffic regulations almost non-existent. Add to this normal cars, buses, bicycles, and cyclos (bicycle rickshaws) and the very idea of even setting foot on the pavement seems impossible. There are, however, certain secrets to pick up.
The first is Communism. In most societies it is incumbent upon you, the individual, to avoid getting run over. In Vietnam it is the Traffic, as a single mass, who are responsible for not killing you.
The second is that, as impossible as it seems, every one of those drivers is paying close attention to where they're going. So, if you walk at a steady pace across the street, the drivers will be able to estimate where they have to go to avoid you. If you run, stop, or made any sudden movements they'll get confused and tragedy may ensue.
When all else fails, some Vietnamese person - usually a smirking teenager or five-year-old girl, to make the experience as humbling as possible - will take pity on the poor stupid Westerner and lead you across. As soon as his foot hits the pavement the traffic will instantly - magically - flow around you, leaving a wide clear path for you to make you egress.
This isn't to say that you don't have to be reasonable. The Vietnamese are only human, and just because accidents are far less common than you would think doesn't mean they never happen. Still, if you can work up the nerves, it makes every crosswalk an adventure.
The sheer number of motorbikes on the streets at any one time is staggering. They fill warehouses and crowd the sidewalks, and pour down the streets in rivers. Traffic lights are few and traffic regulations almost non-existent. Add to this normal cars, buses, bicycles, and cyclos (bicycle rickshaws) and the very idea of even setting foot on the pavement seems impossible. There are, however, certain secrets to pick up.
The first is Communism. In most societies it is incumbent upon you, the individual, to avoid getting run over. In Vietnam it is the Traffic, as a single mass, who are responsible for not killing you.
The second is that, as impossible as it seems, every one of those drivers is paying close attention to where they're going. So, if you walk at a steady pace across the street, the drivers will be able to estimate where they have to go to avoid you. If you run, stop, or made any sudden movements they'll get confused and tragedy may ensue.
When all else fails, some Vietnamese person - usually a smirking teenager or five-year-old girl, to make the experience as humbling as possible - will take pity on the poor stupid Westerner and lead you across. As soon as his foot hits the pavement the traffic will instantly - magically - flow around you, leaving a wide clear path for you to make you egress.
This isn't to say that you don't have to be reasonable. The Vietnamese are only human, and just because accidents are far less common than you would think doesn't mean they never happen. Still, if you can work up the nerves, it makes every crosswalk an adventure.
Monday, July 07, 2008
Pho Shizzle
Vietnam's preffered breakfast is not a warm baguette. It is pho, a beef noodle soup served with cilantro, lime, bean sprouts and fish sauce.
Why on earth should that be? it's not as if the stuff is easy to make; it requires about twenty ingredients and takes hours to prepare. It can't be eaten on the run. The thing was only invented about a hundred years ago anyway.
The answer, as I've discovered, probably has to do with balance. It's true that pho is a filling, cheap, nutritious meal, but more important than that is the heat. Vietnam is a tropical country, and more than once I've found my wiping the sweat off my brow after five minutes outside. Eating a bowl of hot soup, however, seems to take the edge off. As the temperature inside rises to meet the temperature outside. you begin to feel yourself again, and you may even have the courage to cross the street.
Why on earth should that be? it's not as if the stuff is easy to make; it requires about twenty ingredients and takes hours to prepare. It can't be eaten on the run. The thing was only invented about a hundred years ago anyway.
The answer, as I've discovered, probably has to do with balance. It's true that pho is a filling, cheap, nutritious meal, but more important than that is the heat. Vietnam is a tropical country, and more than once I've found my wiping the sweat off my brow after five minutes outside. Eating a bowl of hot soup, however, seems to take the edge off. As the temperature inside rises to meet the temperature outside. you begin to feel yourself again, and you may even have the courage to cross the street.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Taken for a Ride
Goddamn xe om drivers with their goddamn motorbikes.
This morning I headed over to a shopping complex (improbably called Saigon Tax). Finding the famous Saigon traffic just as bad as people always said, I caved in after the twentieth motorbike driver offered me his services. When I asked him to take me to the department store, he told me it wasn't open yet (actually this was true). Suddenly faced with an hour to kill, I asked him to take me to the War Remnants Museum.
It was certainly gruesome. Pictures of dead Vietnamese. Deformed fetuses in jars. But also a room of children's drawings encouraging reconciliation and a lot of captured American military hardware.
When I got out of the musuem, he was waiting for me. Then, instead of heading back to Nguyen Hue street like I asked he decided to take a detour to the Saigon River and smoke a bit. The final cost wouldn't have been out of place in Manhattan. Shit. And it was only ten in the morning.
Well, at least I learned my lesson quickly.
This morning I headed over to a shopping complex (improbably called Saigon Tax). Finding the famous Saigon traffic just as bad as people always said, I caved in after the twentieth motorbike driver offered me his services. When I asked him to take me to the department store, he told me it wasn't open yet (actually this was true). Suddenly faced with an hour to kill, I asked him to take me to the War Remnants Museum.
It was certainly gruesome. Pictures of dead Vietnamese. Deformed fetuses in jars. But also a room of children's drawings encouraging reconciliation and a lot of captured American military hardware.
When I got out of the musuem, he was waiting for me. Then, instead of heading back to Nguyen Hue street like I asked he decided to take a detour to the Saigon River and smoke a bit. The final cost wouldn't have been out of place in Manhattan. Shit. And it was only ten in the morning.
Well, at least I learned my lesson quickly.
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