Saturday 19 May 2018

To cross a road in most former British colonies or Japan one first looks right and subsequently left. Nearly everywhere else one should initially look left. This in order to view your impending death from speeding traffic as you initially step out then proceed through to the opposite lane. Although the Vietnamese ostensibly drive on the right, normal procedures are irrelevant because buses, cars and particularly innumerable scooters may come at you from any direction. Contrary to good sense motorbikers use sidewalks because they're less crowded so faster speeds are possible. They drive in the wrong direction and across traffic because, well... that's where they want to go. Crossing a street requires both a facility with moving 360 degree geometry and an incongruously lavish sense of optimism. One waits until seeing a felicitous pattern that coincides with a burst of confidence, then steps out into the maelstrom, speeding up or slowing down as gaps approach. A few intersections, many of which have no lights or control apparatus of any kind, have crosswalk signs - you know, the little green and red guys that advise when to go and when not. They are a cruel hoax and should never, ever be included in your decision making process. Friends who recently visited Saigon said they just walked across without looking and relied on drivers to miss them. They are either terribly fatalistic or delusionally trusting of driver's skill and intent. Mike & Rosie are lucky to be alive.

Sunday

Dennis (real name unpronounceable outside of Asia), our guide to Can Tho and the Mekong Delta, claims that his language is easy because there's no gender or tense. Although begging the question of, for example, how one knows if he's already done something or yet to do it and with whom, this might be true if every word did not have up to six attributes, or "songs", depending on inflection. For example, the word "ca" besides four other completely different meanings can be fish or tomato. One can readily see how this could lead to an awkward situation for the inept foreigner (all Westerners). There are apparently only six songs in the music as well, which perhaps really is simple and only slightly more complicated than the guys who sang "Who let the dogs out". They just had one.

Although roads are basically in good condition, there is either nothing in the language for it or road builders are not taught the word for smooth. The impression is enhanced by axles that are obviously bolted directly to vehicle frames. If one could otherwise nap, constant horn blowing makes New York City cab drivers seem subdued. This stalwart attitude is further evidenced in bedding as mattresses and pillows appear to be made of abandoned truck tires. Ibuprofen supplies are rapidly disappearing. Discussions are underway to upgrade in future to one star accommodations for two dollars more.

Besides visiting the amazing floating market, paddling and motoring on the Mekong, riding bikes alongside canals and sampling curious foods at the Can Tho night market, we stopped by a candy factory (that word is used advisedly) where a coconut slurry mixed with with chili, chocolate or coffee is boiled down into a taffy-like consistency, cut into mouth-sized chunks and wrapped in edible rice paper. It's delicious and perfect for disposing of those pesky amalgam fillings you've had since childhood.

It takes almost 28,000 dong to buy a US dollar. One suspects some tolerably impressive inflation at one time or another. There are no coins. Smallest bill seems to be 200 dong, worth something less than a penny. Most of the currency has so many zeros that losing count is a serious hazard and the drab colors and baffling sizes are little help. Here's a suggestion: whack off at least three zeros and make new, brightly colored, plastic bills called ding-dongs. The proletariat will love them.

Jack