Entry Wounds. Episode 01: Shell Shock

I know the gubberment scans emails, and I've undoubtedly used some key words here so if your sending any emails to me, do me a favour and don't mention any anti-commie sentiments, or relijus commentary. They're serious about the threat of dissent here, and while the reds aren't exactly under my bed, they are in every alley and on every street corner and they wear plain clothes so you have no idea who they are, but they keep track of all foreigners comings and goings, and they're not to be messed with. So you'll understand if my emails become progressively slysdexic over the weeks, just know it's a healthy case of paranoia not me losing my mind (never thought I'd hear myself saying that!).

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11/12/03 12:30am Melbourne International Airport.
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T + 5 minutes.

surreal.....SURREAL!!!! Dali where are you? This is the company I should be keeping, frontier theorists and bizarre artists.. oh no.. ok... rationalise; millions of people hop on exaggerated Cessna's every year. According to the numbers game, hopping on a plane is safer than hopping in a car. That being said the greatest determinate of automobile extinction is the driver, and considering a recent study revealed that 20% of airline pilots admitted to having alcohol in their system prior to flying, I just hope the aviation fuel is in the fuel tanks not in the guy wearing the gold wings.
To those who stood at the gate and hugged me goodbye ... thankyou. I wish the English language had a more glamourous word for gratitude (sound like a building term), but apparently it does not. If this hulking piece of metal should fall from the sky in a burning inferno, know that I'll keep an afterlife eye on you all.

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12/12/03 11:15am Melbourne time. Bangkok International Airport
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No burning inferno?..................check..
Sat down to crummy food on the plane. I just can't trust geometrical food. Cubed fruit, square chocolate mousse. If you are what you eat then too much Aeroplane food will leave you looking like a cubists canvas. Thanks to those pwesky tewwowists, now the sharpest thing on your plate is the Cracker Barrel Cheddar (rectangular too boot). Special thanks must go to all you bastards that bought me drinks. At 4 in the morning, with a hangover making itself feel known, and altitude dehydration in full swing I called out to a passing attendant to gain her attention without waking all the other sleeping souls around me, but with my parched throat all that was produced was a raspy whisper. For the next 30 minutes, no attendants came by. Suddenly there was a build of saliva in my mouth, with a familiar metallic tang. Sweat beads formed on my brow, and I knew the clock was ticking. My in-flight gymnastics on my way to the aisle were something akin to a Hippo with MS, but I made it to the toilet in time. I splash water on my face and sat down cupping my head in my hands. Next thing I see is two or four (if four then two sets of twins) concerned looking stewardesses, fanning me with the emergency instructions card. My head awkwardly resting against the door latch. Subsequently a crescent moon swelling has formed above my right eyebrow. My first scar and I still haven’t reached Nam. It’s like I’m living a yuppie rendition of Apocolypse now.

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13/12/03 8am Local Time Ho Chi Minh City.
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Awoken by Bach at 7:30 am. No not the now deceased musician, but a rendition of some of his work on piano. Seems my neighbour practices their classical piano playing in the morning. How cool is that! No more MEEP! MEEP! MEEP! MEEP! from my indifferent and relentless alarm clock, instead I’m awoken by the gentle rolling of classical piano melodies.
All is well, save for a few hours lost to jet lag. That being said I did sleep well, the bed I’m sleeping in is fantastic, a far cry from that saggy mattress of Tarn’s that I had been sleeping on for the last 3⅓yrs. Sure it brought people together, but that was mainly due to poor inner support more than anything.
Yesterday was a long day thanks to the time delay. It began with a front seat taxi ride to where Heather & Ray (my contacts over here) live. They offered me the back seat, but I decided a baptism of fire was the only appropriate introduction to my new environment. The reports on Vietnamese traffic were right. It is hectic! At anyone time between 0-70% of the drivers are on the correct side of the road. But that being said a majority of your time is spent watching in horror as they casually veer across your path, between a swathe of oncoming traffic (which is also veering seemingly aimlessly) onto a footpath, then crossing straight through an intersection diagonally. However what the guide books don’t tell you is that no-one is traveling more than 30km/h and 95% of the traffic is little scooters (4 million in Ho Chi Minh City alone) as it requires a special and hard to obtain license to ride a bike over 110cc. Johnny G, here your bike would be a two-wheeled Hercules. The guide books say it’s chaos, but it’s not. It’s simply how things work when you don’t have a legal system to hand out the blame and associated costs. Instead it is simply up to each individual to be responsible for his own safety, and when your exposed on a scooter and not surrounded by the steel shell that a car provides you’d be surprised how sensible the whole procedure becomes. I’ve never seen so many people give way. There is no right of way, or wrong of way, just self preservation and split second diplomacy.

**Lesson 1 on crossing Vietnamese roads: Cross at zebra crossings. No-one will stop for you, it’s just that if you get run down, there’s at least half a chance you can get some compensation (providing the person who hit you is rich, and doesn’t drive off) Look Left, Look Right, Look Left again, step forward, nearly get hit, step back, look left-right-left, step forward again, if not hit continue to look left and right, and shuffle forwards trying to make eye contact with everyone coming in your direction. Now you’re in the middle of the road, (if you are on a median strip, this offers no protection…MOVE SOLDIER MOVE) so now look right first, then left, and continue your timid shuffle to the other side. **

Last night was my first ride on a xe ôm (scooter taxi) They’re cheap as chips ($1/km) and may give you a discount if you tell them this classic joke: In Australia we wear helmets when riding bikes.
Instant giggles.
These guys are the best way to get a perspective on how the traffic works. We (Ray and I) took xe ôm’s to the Diamond Star, an amazing coffee house, all open and wooden, three stories high and set out in a spiral design. No walls or windows, just big leafy ferns and plants with a constant water mist spraying from the roof, which was blown around by oscillating fans, making it in a word….’bliss’. We were going there to meet some of Ray’s students, and watch Vietnam & Thailand play soccer in the SEA games. The street outside was packed with teens covered in Red & Yellow, singing chants and bursting with patriotism. Inside the Diamond Star, every level’s patio was packed with chairs and eager fans watching the game on TV. They were jumping off their chairs, and screaming with every kick of the football, and it was just the repeat of the last time the two teams met, before the actual game started. Talk about living in the moment! The student we were meeting were in to Ppl’s Party, aka; kids of big wig C 0 |V||V| unist party members. Thus they wouldn’t let us pay for our Heinekens and Tiger beers (all $2 a pop). As fans, the Vietnamese are up there with any European country as far as fanaticism goes. Ray advised me that if by half way through the second half Vietnam were losing we should leave because there’d be riots. So as Thailand stood 1-0 in the lead with 20 minutes left in the game, we decided to leave. Outside police were beginning to line up; no batons, no shields, just AK-47’s . It was at that point that Ray informed me that during riots police brutality is exceptionally low, it’s just the death rate that’s high.
We stopped off at a roadside restaurant for a late dinner. Hours before it did not exist, but during the evening a bamboo structure is assembled, creating a roof covered in cotton cloth. Cane tables and chairs are set out, candles, table cloths, are set and all the ingredients carried in fresh from the fields, in wicker baskets. I ordered Vegetable spring rolls, and Vegetables and Rice cooked in a way and in a sauce that I cannot remember the name of, nor pronounce, but I’m going to have to invent a new word for how good it was… Breztalious! Ok, so obviously the heat is affecting me…. or maybe it’s the sleep dep.

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13/12/03 6pm Local Time. Ho Chi Mihn City
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Had breakfast this morning in our alley way. It seems food is Vietnam’s favourite past-time, hobby and employment. So until about 11am, there are plastic children’s tables and chairs set out against the alley walls. At the end of the alley and old lady stood behind a glass cabinet on wheels. Inside the cabinet was a plucked chicken, duck and pigeon, as well as chicken hearts and pigs ears, as well as a myriad of fresh herbs and vegetables. With some cumbersome hand-signals I ordered two fried eggs. Should have repeated the frying mime attempt once more because they were served runny ontop, white and all. I repeated my message across soon after and was presented with the same eggs and a fresh baguette. This would have to do. We (Ray and I) washed it down with a fresh coconut with a straw in the top and paid the lady her 7000 dong, 60c. Good thing I didn’t eat anymore, because we spent the next hr and a half on the back of xe ôm’s riding side by side through the traffic on a tour of Ho Chi Mihn. It was all great scenery but all a blur in the end. A million different things to see all at once, but nothing useful as a point of reference for navigational purposes. Oh and one more additional road rule; if it is bigger than you, give way to it. Push bikes give way to scooters, scooters and bikes give way to cars, and everything gives way to buses and trucks. Otherwise your likely to get a first hand lesson in basic Newtonian physics: Mass x Velocity = Afterlife.

After the ride, I stopped off at a massage parlour to get some knots worked out of my back, thanks to Thai Airways nerve pinching seat design. The fee was 3 times what Ray said was common, so I tried my hand at bargaining but failed. “150,000 Dat it! No change! No Change! 1 hour 150,000! No change!” An hr later I didn’t care Best massage (short of the $140 Shiatsu massage @ the Japanese bath houses in Collingwood) Young scrawny little lady had hands like bear traps, probably crushes Macadamias between her fingers for stress relief. Although she’d never heard a back like mine.. “Ooh, like pepper crush..tsk tsk… ver bad, ver bad”

So far I’ve been taken to the cleaners by every person I’ve done business with, mainly because I don’t know how much things are, and its hard to haggle someone down from $2 to $1.50 for any service.

Dinner on my second night? Authentic German cuisine, what else!
While I was happy to eat off the street vendors, Ray & Heather were eager to eat some hearty European fair, so we made our way to downtown Saigon. This is truly a sight to behold. In celebration of Xmas/Tet/New Year/and Thanksgiving (how Buc|c|hist) all the trees lining the streets are wrapped in tiny coloured Xmas lights. However it’s not just the main branches that are lined with these lights, even the small side branches are wrapped in them, these remaining 2-3 metres of lights simply hang straight down, creating a simply breathtaking picture. A gauntlet of twinkling rainbows, like neon weeping willows. Fairy tale material.
Over dinner we of course shared cuisine horror stories, Heather won with her account of a Northern Vietnamese favourite, Dog meat marinated in the blood of a snake skinned alive. A cruel and uncouth practice she assured me. I stopped short of reminding her that the Veal in her schnitzel was the product of a young calf being deprived of sunlight and iron from birth, and routinely drained of blood for months on end and fed only milk to ensure that flesh was white and tender for her pleasure. And killed just at the right time, … after its kidneys and liver fail due to malnutrition. I just kept my mouth full of German bubble’n’squeak and Heineken.
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