We were fortunate that our daughter (L) and son-in-law (R) and their two small boys (B and J) have been living and working in HCM for over a year now and we have been able to visit them frequently during this period. I was also quite familiar with Vietnam as I had worked for the international education industry and travelled to Vietnam as part of the recruitment process. We were, therefore, more prepared than the average expatriate when we arrived.
Our accommodation was easily solved when L and R agreed to share the three level villa that they were renting. Mark and I would take the top level which comprised of a large bedroom, bathroom and living area. It was at the top of a very long staircase which wound up to the top of the house and never seemed to get any easier to climb. As I struggled up the marble stairs between the first and second floors I invariably had to stop halfway and draw breath, always thinking of the positives that this amount of exercise was doing calculated over ten trips up and down per day on average! We eat together most evenings in what is called in Vietnam 'an American kitchen' which is a kitchen/dining room combined. The kitchen has now had an oven installed, not a basic commodity in a Vietnamese home. We also had a Vietnamese cook who came in weekdays to make our evening meal but the difficulty of conversing without a common language and culture was so frustrating, particularly after we tried to explain how to make tacos. Our delight at thinking we had explained the rudimentaries of this dish both by written explanation and diagrams were shattered when my daughter found the cook adding the chopped lettuce, tomatoes and cucumber with the grated cheese to the hot taco bean sauce. A new cook who speaks a
fairly good English will start in a couple of weeks. We do eat Vietnamese food but like to alternate with more familiar dishes. We have also learnt that the local people eat to live, not live to eat, and therefore their food can be fairly rudimentary.
The villa is located in District 2 which is a popular area for expatriate living. There is a large international community and the cafes are exciting mixes of nationalities and languages, Korean, Russia, English spoken with American, British and Australian accents, Chinese, but particularly French. Vietnam has maintained that cultural link with France stemming from the old colonial days and aspects of French life are very evident.
The streets in District 2 still maintain some of the quaintness of the 'old Vietnam'. The street from our house to the main road and freeway is narrow and, although fringed with high walls protecting the large villas inside, there are
communist communes still evident between the large houses. They are neatly kept and have a small open air cafe cooking local delicacies next door. These traditional communes are now more often inhabited by males who come to the City to work leaving their family in the country. Bougainvillea and other tropical plants hang over the walls and roadway, there are no pavements but even where there are in other streets, they are frequently broken and uneven and usually with trees growing in the middle so they are impossible to manoeuver.
These vestiges of the old Vietnam are slowly being eroded by the inroad of the international community who are demanding modern facilities. New bulding works to provide these amenities demolish slums as well as traditional homes and in their place enclosed compounds with streets of modern homes, gardens and swimming pools, communal sports and school facilities and international schools are all secured by guards and barriers.
The security within the compounds is not without reason, burglary and theft are commonplace in Ho Chi Minh where a third world population is exposed to the luxuries of the western lifestyle. Stories abound among expatriates of the latest attack, which is unlikely to include any violence, it is an assault on material possessions. During the first week after arrival I was stalked by two young men on a motor bike. I had learnt that two men on a motor bike in a quiet street is
dangerous. I do not carry a hand bag but place cash and a cheap mobile phone and glasses in a shopping bag which I carry over my shoulder. I noticed these men coming up behind me long before they drew level and therefore turned around to face them, which made it difficult for them to attack me. They passed by, but lacking any other pedestrians in the street in the middle of the day (only mad dogs and Englishmen,or women) they turned around and continued to go up and down the street past me trying to get into a position where they could grab my shopping bag. I continued to turn towards them as they approached.
It was initimidating however, and when I lost sight of them I knew that they had hidden around the approaching corner to more easily grab me.
I knew they were there but somehow when approached by danger the mind freezes and I was unable to put into action my prior daredevil thoughts of defending myself and perhaps doing them some injury. Instead I turned the corner and stood there in front of them while one of them grabbed my neck and ripped my gold chain from its forgotten position. The chain broke and slid inside my blouse. The driver thinking the other had managed to gain the valuables, revved the motor bike up and shot across the road and disappeared. I was shaking but also angry, determined that I would have at least a pepper pot to throw in their face next time. I hope that there isnt a next time but does anyone know where you can buy a mace spray?
to be continued . . . . .