Tag: Ho Chi Minh City

Jazzy Saigon

I attended Quyen Thien Dac and the Nilsson Trio (Jazz) performance a while ago.

Cultural exchange. But “fant” or on-the-dime invention is not new here.  Saigon traffic has already been jazzy, zigzagging at every turn.

I was with friends. He himself brought an ensemble of jazz men to Vietnam a while back.

Mighty proud of my friend who is multi-talented and multi-tasking.

I also noticed an “order in chaos” pattern here in Vietnam.

You might visit  Nha Tho Duc Ba (Notre Dame de Saigon) and  a taxi hop later, visit Lang Ong (the Grand General Temple). In one jazzy move, you embrace both a Church that glorifies the Maternal side of divinity, and a temple that honors a local patriarch who died a martyr death defending the city (of Gia Dinh) against invaders. Yin and yang, zigzagging at the highest level, both East and West. Young people are into Hospitality Management (to capitalize on booming tourism and the lack of service mentality, taken for granted  in Thailand . Four-star price demands four-star service.

Thus, at the service level, we still have room for improvement.

But not to take away credits. Young Vietnamese, having completed their studies abroad are coming back. Reverse brain drain; just like their Indian and Chinese counterparts (my housemate was toasting a US-bound relative last night. She will be attend US College this Fall).

Marriott is here. So are Inter-Continental, Hyatt and Hilton. Chinese building boom (latest horse-shoe Sheraton for one) echoes here as well, since constructors need work.

Everyone is snapping up valuable real estate and talent.

Need a musician? Done. Hair and make up? Done.

Even M&A. Things might have slow down due to the Recession, but many are seeing opportunity in crisis (young expat filmmakers have given it a try).

This paradox has traditionally been a Vietnamese trademark: thriving in chaos. So Thien Dac personifies what everyone already knew: the positive spirit needed to rise above one’s humble circumstances.

It’s weather perfect last night. And I knew I was sitting in the middle of change, and perhaps, might be swept away by whatever comes with it.

torn between two places

Yahoo News had a piece about Diaspora, the return.

It features Mrs Nguyen Cao Ky, who is now a proud owner of a Pho restaurant in former Saigon.  She said to have spent a few months in the US, and the rest in Vietnam.

Other Viet Kieu expressed similar sentiment: “when I am here, I miss the States, and vice versa” said wife of a former Vegas casino host.

The attachment to places.

We are creatures of habits.

I found myself gravitated toward District 3 where I grew up.

I turned my head every time I passed by L’Ecole Aurore.

To lend some credibility, the article quoted Professor Hung, of the U of VA, who said what everyone had already known: the less attractive the US economy the stronger the pull of  Vietnam .

So, we have Vietnamese moving out of Hotel California. The choices are Houston or HCMC. Sociologists couldn’t have foreseen this 38 years ago.

I didn’t. We were in a state of shock!

Those of us who weren’t religious person then, became one.

Churches and synagogues welcomed the displaced.

So, my sweet guitar gently weeps.

I admitted to eating a bunch of church pot-luck dinners to get through college.

Then, upon graduation, I paid it all back by offering my ration packs to Boat People in Asia.  Whatsoever you sow, you shall reap.

I saw what people went through at seas to get to shores, to Hotel California.

Now, I met people like Mrs Ky who discussed opening up shops in VN, organizing a conference there, and perhaps buying a piece of land.

I do miss the comfort in the States e.g. clean beaches, ample parking and ubiquitous police. Over-protected in one place and under-served in the other.

Torn between two  places, feelin’ like a fool. Blame it on war, blame it on peace. But mostly, blame it on greed which brought down house of cards. As of this edit, I have read excerpt of Andrew Lam‘s latest Birds of Paradise Lost which is an expose on the theme of Diaspora of millions Viet Kieu, suffering the fate of “neither here nor there”.

The strangest moment came when songs of the 70’s got played at coffee shops in Saigon. It only accentuates a known fact: the place seems to have freezed up in time. Those music got me nostalgic for Vietnam when hearing them in the States, but then, to hear them play here in VN makes me nostalgic for time past, not the place itself. We all swim against the tide of time.  Boys-men-boys, in my case, a boy from BAN CO. Even grown men need to have some fun. It’s either biking or swimming now.  For that, you can do it anywhere.  But who you would ride with, that depends on the place. Those who went through the piercing experience of separation and exile are rarely heard nor noticed. Most force themselves to forget and move on. Others leverage new skill and contact to return, a phenomenon known as “brain re-gain”. More are coming back. Yet remain forever “outsiders”, torn between two places.

The Vietnam that could and will

You can feel it. The energy, aspiration and action.

I haven’t seen an idle person here in Saigon. Even people with great disabilities crawl on their hands and knees, through rough and uneven gutters to sell lottery tickets or variety of snacks.

Everybody is proud of their native son: Ngo Bao Chau, math genius.

The country is rooted firmly in the past, yet yearning to be integrated and connected to rest of world (hip hop, fashion).

Garment has been upgraded and sold at Macy’s. Now, it is its turn for playing the “bad guy” (after Bangladesh and S American countries, whose “low labor” have supplied over-weight Western clothing excess before Vietnam even got there).

But here in Vietnam, it’s all small businesses, low-skill : coffee shops, then pure-bean coffee shops. I sat at Rain, and saw tables turn over quickly. High Margin.

Just pour your heart into it.

The music is ear-deafening. Louder than the disco near by where servers would come, one by one, to cheer you up and to toast.

Before the night is out, you are so beat, so broke (since there were so many people pouring your drinks, all deserved a tip). Not unlike Vegas, you admitted to having a good time.: what happened here stayed here.

I am not the only Viet Kieu often discovered this secret irony: the very place that we ran away from, is the scene we yearn to come back to.

Like Jewel, who was once sleeping in car in San Diego, now wants to set up residence near the Mexico border.

We are creatures of habits who tend to follow the path of least resistance (the only way to test this out is for me to travel to Havana some day, and see if I like it there more than Saigon).

Cuban Americans in Miami are probably going home en mass these days.

I have seen them shop at Outlets such as Sawgrass Mills and Dolphin Mall.

Back to RAIN. The owner or manager was young, hip and alert. He made sure guests got situated, servers take orders and tables cleaned very quickly. Every one dressed up as hip as could be. Just to sit at a trendy cafe. Reminded me so much of my high-school days, when we tried various clothing styles and any cool English phrases.

The high school I went to, once renamed something else, now has got its original name back. The round-about near my school never got repainted as neatly the Catholic church nearby. But I understood for the first time the significance of statues and memorials: they stood the test of time. Bookends in the sand of time.

I took that path home for four years. Sometimes just walking, biking or hitching ride. We lived life selflessly. Listened to Steely Dan‘s Do It Again or Carly SImon’s You’re So Vain.

Now we are scattered to the seven seas. Many went abroad on labor contracts, Others scholarships. But when they do come back, unlike my visitor’s status, they will stay to build a Vietnam we have yet to experience. (As of this edit, I look forward to our min-reunion this afternoon at of all places, another cafe).

Best days are ahead.

Imagine the possibilities. Imagine solving the kind of math Ngo Bao Chau did. The ingenuity is there. Just give it time.

Just harness the energy, and focus on the goal of not falling off the competitiveness chart. Carl Jr, Starbucks and soon MacDonald are all here. And according to Friedman of The World is Flat, once two nations are fully MacDonalized, they are unlikely to be at war.  The last chopper left Saigon 38 years ago. Still, everyone rushes about as if it were their last scooter that is leaving Vietnam.

Saigon heat

Rain and heat, the yin and yan of Saigon.

I saw sugar donuts on sale, so I thought of my niece who used to love those melted brown sugar donuts. I tried one. It chipped away my tooth, which happened to be the base  for neighbouring crown. So I had to plant back all three. Costly donuts in Dakao!

Last night, I saw hundreds of bikers circling the block. People said, No, this was just a dry run. The race will be on Saturday night.

Meanwhile, the McCain carrier is docking in China Beach these days.

I can’t help notice the irony of naming an USS carrier the McCain.

The presidential aspirant was once incarcerated in Hanoi Hilton, cell bound.

Now, the carrier bore his name is free to roam the seven seas, least of which South China Seas.

There is a certain attraction here in Vietnam.

High-end tourist resorts in old Hoi An (featured in Huffington Post). Hanoi celebrates its 1000th year. Hello Vietnam video (Bonjour Vietnam).

WEC, APEC, VN even took turn as one of the UN security council members etc… And recent visit by Madam Secretary all paint a picture of a newly integrated Vietnam. Internet users and mobile phone users grow fast, up there in the top ten. A conference on open source, software testing and automation, strategic venture funds etc…all paint a brighter picture on this new Vietnam wall, one which is not black on marble, but on white canvas. The future is what you make of it.

Math anybody? English then? Everybody wants to travel to Singapore.

Makes me curious as well. The distance from Saigon to Singapore is quite reachable and even affordable. But for Saigon to morph into the like of Singapore, everyone here agrees, takes decades, not years.

It is no surprise that former leader of Singapore is often invited over as consultant. How do you do it? tell us.

The secret sauce which made Vietnam what it is today varies. It depends on who you ask. Some say the country needs not forget the years of hardship before Renovation (85). Others might argue otherwise.

All I know, like the weather here, and the pace of tourism, it comes and goes.

Merchants and Middle-men stay on. Build your brand, invest here, sell that to survive the down turn.

I notice revenue pressures at every turn: from A/C offices to open-air beer stalls. People pour Heineken first, then ask for the main course order later.

Same way they ride their bikes on narrow streets, away from noise, dust, stress, heat and congestion on the street. And surely, the young bikers on Saturday night can’t wait to try out their newly paved race track as well.

It’s good to be young and restless. It’s better to harness that energy to good use. It’s not Saigon that needs to learn from Singapore, but it’s young Saigonese that need role models, not Rebels without a cause (Marlon Brando).

The consensus has yet been reached. Many young people want to go the Korean way. And none want to imitate their neighbor to the North.

Among Vietnam’s former nemeses, it’s the US  that got away clean and clear.

It got docking rights at China Beach these days, and I am sure the USS McCain naval officers are more than welcome to stay in any hotel of their choice. Unbound. And if they can afford the “platform” resort in Hoi An, all the more better. Huffington Post recommends it.

Flamencing Vietnam

The rhythm. The ambience. And the audience at Carmen.

Different breed. Different beat.

The Vietnamese singer tried hard at rolling her Latin “R”‘s, just like her predecessors at the French “un”, or the English “you”.

Vietnam, and Saigon in particular, has  always been a mix of culture: Cuban band on Caravelle terrace or Carmen Club nearby.

Not far away, you’ll find the Japanese and Korean alley.

All these venues accommodate a variety of taste and eccentricities.

A few million visitors, and 87 million residents. Even just the top 1 percent need a night out is a crowd.  A business man tried his hand at opening a club in California, thinking their expat counterparts can use some home-grown entertainment. He took a loss and closed it down after a year.

So, Hotel California did not play “I will Survive”.

Ironically, the pool of Viet Kieu would rather spend their entertainment dollars here, thinking it would stretch more. Typical tourist’s loosed purse.

Carmen, with Spanish decor and motif e.g. catacomb and medieval. Very pre-internet with candle and dark menu.

Servers’ outfit has some red on, female ones with flowers on their hair.

Flamenco, or ” I will Survive” in Spanish, all night long.

It strikes me as odd. In Orange County, where Little Saigon was right next door to Santa Ana (one is predominantly Vietnamese, the other Hispanic) you wouldn’t see a Vietnamese in a Hispanic bar. But here, in Vietnam, you  find even on a slow night, Korean and Vietnamese tourists enjoy Spanish exotic flavor, flamencing the night.

Passion evoked by the foreign element of it all.

In Santa Ana, it gets to be too familiar (scarcity principle).

Here, just pass the entrance, you enter a pre-medieval space. And it’s a neutral territory, since there has never been a Spanish War with Vietnam.

So, feeling safe, I joined in. clapping, but not dancing. Only those Korean expat women were brave enough to do so. Must have cost them a  ton of vodka and tonic . When the music stopped in between sets, they left. Probably went bar hopping. French maybe?

They can “tutoyer” over there then. Vietnam can handle that too,  C’est la meme chose.

butterfly in the sky

Amidst traffic and smog, a black/yellow butterfly dances its way through the intersection, bouncing from motor bike to motor bike.

I shouldn’t have paid too much attention to the creature. I need to worry about my safety. But it struck me as odd.

All concrete in the city with only few trees left in old Saigon. Yet we saw a rare beauty. Just like Nha Trang, south of China Beach, where Miss World took place.

But I can’t pass on learning from this creature, whose primal instinct is to survive.

Human beings instead took their own lives (in this recession, it happens a lot). Or like a Vietnamese student studying in Singapore, on her boyfriend’s support. When the well runs dry, she committed suicide and found dead in her closet (her love story and financial support ironically have been well hidden, a closeted affair).

And the Fashion TV channel keeps unveiling many thin couture, very chic.

So, the co-existence of what’s ugly and what’s beautiful, what’s shameful and what’s honorable is a norm.

The Prime Minister of Singapore, on the country’s birthday celebration, touches on this issue: many conflicting interests.

One of his solutions is to allow immigrant workers, unlike Japan who opted for automation over immigration.

Meanwhile, in Vietnam, tourists’ expectations are varied.  Many are from China, Taiwan, Japan, Korea and Singapore. Hence, inter-regional business interests arise naturally due to proximity. Reverse tourist flow has also been on the rise. One of these days, the imbalance in trade and tourism will find its equilibrium, and incidents such as dorm-room closet suicide will be a rarity. For now, going abroad to nearby countries,  to study, to settle and to sight-see have been and will be a boost to the ego: look at me, I have it made. Let’s book that regional flight and shop til we drop. Long live luxury goods and those can afford them. High living and up-stairs living. The once-colonies now turn new crops of shopper colonialists.

Who gives a damn about wolves in Mongolia, or butterflies in Dalat? Just cut down those trees and make ways for the flow of goods made else where to come and conquer. The shoppers are invited foreign elements in. No need for Trojan horse.

Even butterfly wants to swing out of the congested situation, much less the nouveaux riches who never seem to run out of options to shop.

 

Saigon in motion

A couch floats down the river right pass Bong Bridge a while ago.

As of this edit, there was a “hot” clip about police trying to stop a girl from jumping to her death on another bridge.

Vietnam still has to battle with forces of nature, (typhoon Utor) and economic pressures  (bad debt).

Here, before the rain stops, people already start moving.

A poncho, two people. Total trust. You drive, I ride.

Street vendors spread out merchandise on tarp, just to wrap them up five minutes later.

The lucky few zoomed by on Toyota Runner or Lexus.

Progress by osmosis.

Henry Ford reincarnated will be happy to find this land where automobile market has yet been saturated

Despite, people have managed to move about efficiently and effortlessly on two, not four wheels, defying all odds.

High rises are up. So are bridges in the city.

People are in constant motion, on Mobil phones and motor bikes.

People honk at every hour of the day.

(Unlike in the States, honking would invite road rage.)

I get to call on a few ICT companies. I found the work force young, intelligent and responsive. The marks of top students (learning), and soon becoming top workers (unlearning).

Post-war baby boomers grow up with no legacy.

Order a beer, shoot the breeze and hop on the bike.

Competition is tough at all level i.e. entry-level workers, mid-level manager, small companies and mid-size ones. Meanwhile, the nation itself strives to become the next Malaysia and Indonesia. If failed, or not trying hard enough, caught in “Middle-Income trap”.

So, back to two wheels, while the rest of the world on four.

As long as things and people are in motion. A couch that floats and a girl who tries to jump. Keep moving. Keep fighting gravity and inertia. Keep up with progress. Endure the pain to surely gain.

I am not here for solitude and reflection. I am here to move with the flow.

Just to survive. And the fade out music today is “rain and tears….”

More from Saigon on my next blog. Got to hop on a “xe om” to fight traffic.

 

India + 1 cafeteria

I ordered an iced coffee with milk, this time not in the to-go cup.

I just want to sit down, and take it all in. No I am not in India.

But close. I am in formerly known as Saigon. On the  8th floor. REBOOT CAFE.

The LogiGear building. Offshore software testing center. Young engineers

might as well be in India, where I read so much about (their call centers offered training in accent reduction, their corporate night-out etc…). As of this edit, there is a sister branch in DaNang 200 testers strong.

Back packers who are first timers in Vietnam often cocoon in Ta Hien or De Tham.

From that standpoint, they observe  people walking the street in pajamas and cone hats.

Here I am sitting on the 8th floor with back-up generators, CAT5 running up the stairways, and engineers test all sorts of things, from TRANSFORMERS the game to Steven Covey‘s Habits-forming software.

Sure, who wouldn’t suffer from the economic downturn.

But young Vietnamese engineers have somewhat been spared. They have grown up not demanding too much space for oneself.  Here, on the 6th floor, they can play a game of ping-pong, sing a song like they would at school recess.

It’s not Electronic Arts, and it’s not India. But it’s something that has potential to take off. Everybody is on the path from pajamas to tuxedos.

Some of us got as far as shirt-and-tie. Others in uniforms.

Most perhaps will never own a tux or wear one.

But one thing for sure, online, no one knows or cares if you wore a pair of shorts underneath (Peter Jennings used to report from the balcony of the Continental Hotel with sport coats and tie, wearing shorts).

After all, Facebook Mark wore his pajamas to a Venture capital meeting.

I don’t condone such practice. But take heart. A nation will advance not only from its broadband built-out, but also due to its young and thriving work force. Here, I see ingenuity, commitment to excellence and team  work.

This morning, I saw a candidate, perhaps in for an interview.

I held the door for her, and can’t help seeing the sweat on her forehead.

It’s hot here in Saigon, and perhaps, she carries a mixture of cold sweat as well.

I wish her luck. In the western sense, luck is something you can control,

first by showing up. She did that (90 percent down, 10 to go). See you at REBOOT CAFE.

Not India. Just India + 1. Vietnamese are used to delay opportunities, as long there were any at all.

No wonder the nation still stands on its own legs, after having driven out the giant in the North (then pleaded for peace throughout its history). It’s less insulting to title this India+1 (high-value service driven economy) then to call it China+1 (manufacturing driven and less sustainable).

 

Saigon upgrade

In 2000, I was sitting at Cadillac, a semi-enclosed bar, whose band played Hotel California and I Will Survive.

In 2010, I found myself at Rolls Royce, which also played Hotel California and I Will Survive.

2013, at Van’s Cafe, its band plays Bon Jovi’s number lacing with Santana’s classics.

Nouveaux riches, yetl good oldies.

The expats came and went. The FDI-enabled buildings and factories were built then abandoned. Investors fled, yet their dollars and euros stayed.

The spill-overs pay for the infrastructure upgrade and remodeling of multiple entertainment venues in the city. Saigon District 1 is still prime real estate. As a song goes, “Ngua xe nhu nuoc tren duong van qua mau” (Horses and buggies zip by on the streets of Saigon), it’s the kind upgrade once seen in New York of the time of Henry Ford.

Taxi pulled up, dropped off, especially when it was pouring.

And the youth, on motorbikes, couldn’t get enough of drag racing (richer counterparts have moved up to Vespas and Roman Holiday).

They did this during the World Cup. Now they practice for the next World Cup, keeping local police busy.

WIth all its pent-up energy, Saigon is upgrading and up to task. from Cadillac, to Rolls Royce.

Female singers with tattoos and cigarettes waiting for their gigs.

A  sequel of ” the girl with a dragon tatoo” could easily be filmed here.

And at the bus station, film crews were busy at work, with  PA’s in black T-shirts doing crowd control. With only that much space, and limited infrastructure – to get around, young people either have to wait until 2AM to race, or they go online during the day. By-pass bridges can’t be built fast enough to accommodate break-neck speed of urbanization and modernization (tallest high-rises, then, another taller-than-current-tallest is proposed).

Airport proposal and counter-proposals dominate tabloid news.

Digital content are thriving here. So have cosmetic surgery e.g. eye lash clip-on, hair extension, All things for personal-brand reinvention.

Those rock band members are splintering off only to regroup somewhere else. Bar ownership change hands as quickly as the names on the doors.

But “I still survive” if failed the US interview to live in Hotel California (background Karaoke screen often shows Golden Gate Bridge).

Those who were lucky to migrate to the West can’t wait to make enough money to return to the “village”. This time, to their surprise, the place has changed. From Cadillac, to Rolls Royce. And you can take a working elevator up to the joint as well. No more semi-enclosed bar (Cadillac) where rain would disrupt a fashion show in progress as often did.  Siting from the inside, you might think you are in a Vegas joint. Gaming and gambling are pushed to its neighboring Cambodia..

As of this edit, a legislative proposal is on the table to legalize sports betting modeled after Singapore recent successes.

With only eateries and spirits as socially acceptable vices, everyone  “dzo”, eat, drink and be merry. Tomorrow will take care of itself, that is, kicking the can down the road for younger population to step up and take up the torch. That torch might not be the same. This time, new issues have emerged: gay, abortion and single mothering. I hope they don’t carry real burning torches on their next drag race. Arson is a kind of upgrade no one needs. If upset, just go ahead and torch yourself.

Me, I will survive. With or without Hotel California.

 

Et pourtant, I think of French bread

This guy, Thomas Huang, went searching for a chocolate eclaire in Saigon, and ended up having his article in the Dallas Morning News

http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/fea/travel/thisweek/stories/DN-vietbread_0711tra.ART.State.Edition1.4fb9c7b.html

I sat next to a business man from Dallas on my recent trip to Vietnam.

He and his partners were into real estate.

And the amazing thing was, while his partner and he flew separately, Korean and Japan Airlines respectively, they both arrived at the same time.

(The Polish government could have taken a page from this playbook).

I wasn’t sure they went hunting for French bakery or not. Not everyone from Dallas craves for the dough.

But I must admit, my upper class men were into French cinema (Bonjour Tristesse), French music (Et Pourtant) and French cuisine (cafe au lait).

I, however, just barely missed the tail end of French colonial influence, and the emergence of R&R (Oh Susie Q).

Everything came back to me a bit fuzzy: like on a super 8mm reel. Back then, life was on the fast lane. Fashion and fad, fun and fear. Ballroom dancing anyone?. Male riders in the back of scooters must sit cross-legged like girls, for security reason. Occasionally, when a waltz number was up, I saw couples wearing white shirts (reflect the psychedelic purple) and tight jeans, twirling and turning, both long-hair and skinny. Way to go the late 60’s.

My upper class men adopted foreign music but selectively: Santana was OK, since it fit into their ballroom dance cycle. Christophe was OK, but only for listening. And , out on the left field, came Lobo, with You and Me and the dog named Boo (Lobo and Procol Harum were both one-hit wonders).

Public school got ample supplies of French bread and powdered milk. Up to their ears. And to change menu, they went for US army rations sold on the black market: those crackers and small peanut butter  in army-green tin cans (reminded me of Kiwi shoe polish).

Anyway, we grew up in a hurry, pulled all-night study to avoid the draft (had there been a Canada North, many would have gone. In fact, our generations’ Canada was Colombo scholarship to study in Melbourne).

And of course, the ubiquitous French bread for study break. They poured the sauce and their hearts into it, and tell you the truth, I am going to join Thomas Huang of Dallas in his hunt for a perfect French baguette. It makes me hungry all of a sudden. I must give it to them, the French, who came up with everything long: Eiffel tower, baguette and Tour De France.

Le jour le plus longue. No wonder they drink coffee all day long. Their days are even longer than ours (but they work only 35 hours per week). I realize just now why I enjoyed Cafe Du Monde in New Orleans. I was “Thomas Huang” but in the opposite direction. He went from Dallas to Saigon, and I, Saigon to New Orleans, both in search of  “un temp perdu”.

Those were the times, of war and peace, love and hate, loyalty and betrayal. Of fast life on fast lane and sudden losses.

Regime change and revolution upheaval.  Of romance and regret. Life-defining moments. It’s not just an eclaire.

It’s an era, forever gone, yet stuck in memory. Now the street behind yesterday’s Independence Palace lay dimly, leaving the glowing stage for capitalist-like District One, Vietnam’s shopping show case. We’ve got it too! Yet we didn’t get it. Maybe just an eclaire. Stuffs that are consumable. Everything else is left to fate. When one gave up free will, fate takes over, by default.

Former colonial mentality follows its master’s fate into oblivion. Bonjour Tristesse! How I wish for the young to dance, to dream and to make it happen again: to build bridges instead of jumping out from one.