In Vietnam, crossing the road is like frogger. There are thousands of mopeds and some cars and trucks and no one stops. Some of the only evidence of communism here is the large number of mopeds and the small number of cars. Prices are controlled by the government and cars are very expensive while mopeds are very cheap. There are thousands and thousands of mopeds on the road. Mopeds (and cars, but not so much trucks) will swerve around you. No one will stop for you. If you wait for a break in the road, you will never get across a street. You just need to step off the curb and walk purposefully and deliberately (no hesitation, no running, no worry) and the traffic will move around you. Truly, you just have to believe. I LOVED it! Those of you who have watched me cross 29 in C-Ville or City Line in Philadelphia will understand. I am a very aggressive pedestrian. My philosophy is that cars are not allowed to run pedestrians over. They just aren’t. I kept wondering what the Vietnamese people must think when they come to the U.S. There are occasional stoplights here, though not many, and they seem to be only advice not law. If no one is coming, you go. If someone is coming, just as long as you properly judge their speed and distance, you go. When they come to the U.S. and see all of our rules and regulations, they must think we have the most oppressive, totalitarian government in the world. Somehow, the traffic pattern in Vietnam speaks much more to democracy than ours does. They don’t want to hit you just as much as you don’t want to be hit. So, if everybody just does their part, everyone will get where they are going safely. You don’t need rules, you just need some faith in human-kindness. They even put their children on mopeds, clearly no seatbelt laws let along helmet laws. It’s mind-boggling.
The night we went to the Rex Hotel and then dinner, Robin & I & a few others decided to walk back afterwards. Most of the rest of the group decided to take a taxi. It didn’t look far on the map and it was after dark and had cooled down significantly. It seemed a nice night for a walk. Michael said (before he hopped in the taxi) that he thought you had to walk through construction and it wasn’t a nice walk. The ship arranged for shuttle buses back and forth to town, but we didn’t yet appreciate why. It was a short shuttle ride. We walked down a block or two to the waterfront and then turned right. We could see the ship’s lights. We crossed the crazy busy road that separated us from the waterfront just as we had all the others -- we walked deliberately and purposefully and traffic swerved around us. Then we hit the construction to the left of us. We had to walk to the right of the barrier. We were walking into incoming traffic. There was a narrow place where we were walking, which seemed like it should have been fine. If it had actually been a sidewalk or shoulder, it would have been. But there were trucks coming towards us and there were mopeds who were trying to pass to their right and when they would do that, they would come face to face with us. With no room for either of us to go anywhere. Robin was in the lead and I kept teasing her that she was stopping traffic. Each time we would stop, Lois -- who was immediately behind me -- would put her hand on my shoulder. Like that would help in some way. The mopeds then had to merge back in with the trucks into the main lanes (which I use loosely, ‘cause it’s not like there really are lanes). There was absolutely nowhere for us to go, so the mopeds had to move back into traffic. It should have been a 3 minute walk, but it lasted much longer. When we got back to the ship, we ran into all the folks who took the taxi. They were just getting on the gangway. I was all hyped up. I LOVED it! Robin, however, looked pretty horrified and totally glared at me when I said that. She seemed mildly traumatized.
There was traffic in other countries too. Chennai was frightening as well and they seem to have their own set of unspoken rules. In Chennai, they use the horn for everything. I’m going through the stop sign, honk, honk … I’m going through the red light, honk, honk ... I’m a big bus going around a curve on a narrow mountain road and I have no idea who is coming towards me, honk, honk. It was dicey crossing the street there too, but the traffic wasn’t nearly as dense. In Vietnam, the mopeds are non-stop. And while they use the horn some, it seems the governing rule is just "go when no one else is" and "don’t hit anyone" and all else follows from that. Pretty simple when you get right down to it. Vietnam is the first place in a while where they drive on the right side of the road. I got pretty used to looking out for traffic coming the other direction, but this definitely felt more comfortable again. Walk deliberately and purposely, have faith, and all will be fine.
Squat toilets. I keep meaning to mention about them. Ever since we left South Africa, squat toilets have been the norm. Hole in the ground, with little places to guide your feet on either side. The touristy places have western-style toilets as well, but we’re not always there. Or, even it we are, in the public restrooms there will be both options and with a bus-load of Americans, if you want to jump to the front of the line, you have to be willing to squat. I’m getting very good at them. On the train in India, there were both options but the western-style were so much grosser that this is when I gave up and decided the other style had its merits. How much more do you want to know?
The Vietnam photo set is up at left. Today is April 14th. One month from today, we’ll be pulling into San Diego.
