Monday, July 23, 2012

Thoughts & Pictures


Without even noticing it, I’ve started to call my temporary rent room here “home”. For me it’s hard to distinguish between a homely feeling and a feeling of familiarity. Is home a place that’s just very familiar and comfortable, or is it a space that your loved ones occupy, or both ? I’ve been living apart from home for 2 and more years now and the foundation of the word “home” is shaky. Maybe that’s why living here, ~12 200 km away from the real home, for the 3rd week doesn’t seem to have changed my feeling of security.

Staying far away, however, has helped me acknowledge everyday things that I always took for granted when I lived in Estonia. For example, not understanding anything that the people around you are talking about for a prolonged amount of time creates a feeling of restlessness (not the case in Estonia). Crossing roads that have no traffic rules makes me thank all sorts of beings of divine power that I paid for an expensive health insurance before coming here.

The noise pollution in Saigon is not something that comes from just the traffic – it is rooted in the culture. For example, people are constantly talking and there doesn’t seem to be much room for sitting silently. Also, entertainment is essential – you can find a big flat screen TV even in the poorest shack or in a construction site, where men (and women) sit a circle on the dusty ground and watch soap operas. I wouldn’t have expected this from a country where the major religion is Buddhism. When I walk on little streets and peek into people’s homes (you can’t help it here – homes’ doors are open and all the interior  is very well seen from the street), I often find a Buddhist altar and a 40 inch LCD TV sitting side by side.

How trash is handled is also very different. For anyone coming here: don’t expect to find a local eating place that has a clean floor. People throw their waste on the floor and it’s normal everywhere. It’s also nearly impossible to find a trash bin and every day I face a dillemma: whether to throw my litter onto the ground or not? Mostly I do it very secretly, but even if someone saw me cowardly laying my ice cream wrapper on the ground like a true imbecile, nobody would care. I’ve read that the irresponsible treatement of waste is taking its toll on Mekong Delta, one of the supreme sights in the South of Vietnam, and a place I’m going to visit next week or a bit later. Pictures of that shall be uploaded.

Spending time with the locals every day has also made me familiar with some other manners and beliefs of theirs. At a dining table, nobody will close their mouth when they’re eating. Perhaps they’re extracting more pleasure out of eating like that, since aside from tasting the food they’re trying out its acoustic properties too ? The dining tables here never offer a knife, but instead  a pair of chopsticks, a spoon and a fork. Imagine eating a great big piece of beef like that. Quite savage. 

Yet another weird dish: self-service springrolls. Materials given: rice paper
(when I bent it, it sounded like plastic and it didn't really taste much like
anything), beef, angelhair vermicelli (very thin rice noodles) and some herbs.


Lately I’ve been going out in the city at evening and day a few times and tried to ask locals whether I can take pictures of them. I’ve been frustrated to learn that every time I kindly ask their permission, they sort of take a strong defensive position with their arms held as a cross and knees bent, kung fu style. I’ve mostly been taking pictures of people without their straightforward permission before and some have started screaming at me. Today I was really delighted when I got the permission of a very interesting kind of old man (and his wife) to take some photos of him. He is one example of the reason why I truly like Vietnam and even Saigon: in the midst of all this chaos and third world conditions, there are beautiful people and heartbreaking stories. There is always more than meets the eye. 

Stylish old man with his wife 

A huge roll of electricity wire



Street food

Fuzzy cafe

Street embroidery

The rabbit hole goes deep

Invasive tree

Sunday, July 15, 2012

2 weeks and more




Slowly getting used to it.


Lately the Living with HIV project I came here to join has kicked off with some events. The latest of them is a visit to Mai Hoa orphanage.
Mai Hoa orphanage is home to ~50  HIV+ children and is managed by a French non-profit organization . Many of the interns didn’t know about them being HIV positive until after we had left the place. But none of them looked shocked at the time, which is good, since we’re all the advocators of anti-discrimination this summer. Luckily nobody’s cuts nor wounds made contact that day. The children were very open and friendly from the beginning. I guess they have become used to the flocs of interns and other visitors who had come there before. And although the language barrier was quite a problem, there was nothing that a little body language couldn’t communicate. We played games that were well-known for the kids, and during a number game we, the interns, faced quite a challenge when trying to instantly remember the first 20 numbers in Vietnamese. In the game we failed, at times found ourselves under a load of laughing kids, and sat with beleagured faces when they shouted at us in Vietnamese. I’ve visited some orphanages in Estonia and when I compare those children with the ones in Mai Hoa, I see no difference. There is tons of energy, excitement, jolly spirit and potential. Many of these kids are fit for school, but because public schools don’t accept them, it’s the orphanage’s task to give then some measure of education. This reflects the concerns of HIV and AIDS-wise poorly informed parents of school children, who contribute to discrimination. In an article in Time magazine, one grandparent who opposed letting HIV positive children study with her grandchildren said
"We survived the French bombings and the American bombings. I'd rather be bombed to death than die slowly of AIDS."

The girl who faces the picture with her back is 
15 years old. I didn’t know that until after
 the visit, and I assumed her to be no more than 
8 years old. Her mother died because of AIDS, 
and she was left to her father, who wouldn’t 
accept her HIV status. Refusing to believe that she 
is HIV positive she didn’t seek any treatment 
for her and with time her condition got worse. She 
was brough to Mai Hoa by her neighbour when 
she was on the verge of dying. Now she stands out 
from the others because of her calm temper and silentness. 
She was also the least energetic participant in the games.

The chilren have fairly good conditions

The intern team a week or so ago, with some current members 
still missing. The mix consisted of a little bit of France, Germany, 
China and Estonia. Now there is also a little bit of Hong Kong. 
There are also 2 locals on the picture, but they are not interns. 


Right now the project is mainly focused on organizing a 2-day summer camp for high school children in the end of July. The contens of this camp will turn students’ attention to leadership, the cultures and identity of the interns’ home countries, sexual education (including HIV/AIDS) and communication skills. Putting together the contents of the sexual education session is an interesting, but challenging task. For instance, some locals who we’ve asked: “what would you do if you were homosexual?” answered that they would try to change themselves and they perceive homosexuality as something totally unacceptable. They also expressed the fear that their families would ditch them. Next to widespread conservatism about sexual issues , there seems to be a low level of awereness. Some of the locals were amazed to discover that we had visited a orphanage of HIV positive kids, asking: “weren’t you afraid to get infected?“. I think the sexual education lessons will be anything but a waste of time. Also, marriage plays a fundamental role here. Me and Kelly have witnessed repeatedly that couples aren’t taken seriously if they’re not married. For example, when we looked for a room to rent together, hosts were never okay with couples moving in, whereas 2 men or 2 women would’ve been fine.

Now I’m gonna jump off to something more tastier than sexual education and social issues: Vietnamese cuisine. Staying with locals has created a true travel experience for my taste buds, and to get the most out of it, I’ve sometimes just dipped head first (so to speak) into the variety of weird and wonderful local foods.  

In the front are plates with bitter melon, a vegetable regarded
here to be very healthy. It has shown to increase sensitivity to
insulin (alleviating diabetes), fight herpes simplex virus,
and have anti-malarial properties. But all of these properties
come in a package with extreme bitterness (especially when
they're ripe)

Shrimps in a kind of jelly made out of rice, covered with
banana leaves. The glass bowl contains fish sauce, which is
extracted from fish by fermenting them  with sea salt. It has
a very distinct taste and it is served with almost every food.

A rice pancake

On the right is fish, in the middle is tofu
filled with minced meat and tomato and
on the left is a soup of shrimp and )some
kind of - havent' found about those yet) leaves
No comments. When I was taking this picture, the
woman behind this mysterious masterpiece started
shouting at me and thereby this food remains a secret. 
Pho, the noodle soup, is a very staple
food here

As for tourism, there has been plenty of it recently. On Sunday evening me, Kelly and 5 other interns took a bus from Saigon to Dalat, which, according to Lonelyplanet, is the most popular honeymoon destination in Vietnam. The expectations were raised a bit too high, since it was just a small town with a typical Vietnamese setting of traffick-busy streets, lots of streetside booths and markets, at times the overwhelming odor of trash left out in the sun, and a vibrant nightlife. The only romantic bit that we witnessed was the Xuan Huong lake, which offered the opportunity to pedal around in a giant white swan (an incredibly slow and clumsy one though). The regions surrounding Dalat were quite a sight.

The path down to the bottom of the
waterfall







In a pagoda near Dalat, a buddhist monk is 
seeking for an escape from the rattle of children
 and parents who stayed inside to avoid the rain. 
With big numbers of visitors every day, the 
refuge that a hilltop pagoda promises for buddhist
 monks seems to be turning  into a mirage. 


Embroidery factory. 

This is not a painting. It's made of silk

In Nha Trang, a small coastal town in central Vietnam. Inevitably, a lot of the local culture and atmosphere here is adapted to fit the needs of tourists. The long strip of beach is lined with pompous hotels and some local houses in between them. The hotels are already fighting for the sea view, as new hotels can only be built behind the row of first ones.




 Having the face and skin color of a tourist is not a good thing here – all the shopkeepers and taxi drivers I’ve met so far are like huyenas, who want to scavenge your wallet and whose company always feels a bit uneasy. We’ve got ripped off many times and it seems that some taxi drivers have a button next to their wheel that can make the taximeter do nasty stunts. It actually feels as if every salesperson wants to rip us off here. I hope that doesn’t reflect the Vietnamese personality.

3D cards. They are amazing.
 There seems to be 2 different sets of prices for foreigners and locals. After asking the price of something, the locals always have a prolonged moment of thought before giving their answer, whichusually makes my eyebrows raise quite high. My white skin tends to suggest to every last salesman on the street that I want to buy their pink plastic sunglasses, their fans, lottery tickets and jewelry, which is especially annoying when you’re trying to admire the beauty of for example a (~metre high ) Buddha statue on a hilltop in Lam Son Pagoda, Nha Tranh. The best way to avoid that kind of company is to keep your eyes down.

The lying buddha in Lam Son Pagoda



... with its exceptionally large ears





Dead people's belongings 

A nice place for a midday break








I'm back to Saigon now, but instead of giving me some time off after long days of travelling in other areas, the speed of the city life is swallowing me even more. I'll try to update soon with more pictures of  more everyday local lives !


One of our fellow interns got locked up in a bathroom in a cafe. The humanitarian
operation to save him took about half an hour. 






A little bit of Saigon skyline


US helicopter in War Remnants Museum


A bubble tea (also known as pearl tea) booth