Tag: Lottery

Positively positive

Same set of situation, variety of readings.

Rashomon effect.

In Vietnam, if you ran into a funeral, it’s luck.

Wow! Positively positive.

The deaths live on in the family, albeit high up on the altar.

Part of one another forever.

Unlike in the US, health care for all is health care for none (shut down).

Negatively negative.

Here in Vietnam, the recycle mentality is quite ingrained: even in the soaking rain, I saw a lady wearing rain gear, picking up a plastic bottle. Not sure how much she earns from the act, which Bill Gates once said he wouldn’t be bothered.

And those with legs cut off would ride their manual cart to sell lottery tickets.

Positively positive.

Those who won a lump sum often spent it all in one place.

Those who sell those tickets keep on with their daily grind.

Positive begets positive.

A butterfly flapping its wings. A dog “saying goodnight” (It’s a Wonderful World).

A stanza of Samba by the Santana.

Even Requiem by Mozart, written for his own funeral. All positive.

Or Steve Jobs and his I phone, I tunes and I pad.

Or Tom Clancy and his much-anticipated publication after his death.

George Harrison has a song called “What’s life” and “My sweet guitar gently weeps”.

Play it on your rainy day?

Positively positive.

Life will get you at your least suspected moment.

Up to you to spot that rainbow and the starfish.

Or succumb to the Rashomon Effect. When in doubt, stay positive. And not just positive, but positively positive.

 

 

 

 

Reading People

I was approached by a guy wearing an FBI cap, asking me to buy lottery tickets.

It’s hot in Vietnam this time of the year. Almost everyone wears some sorts of caps with USA on them,  helmets with the Nike vectors or a hybrid version: helmets shaped like caps.

From top to toe, we send out signals and messages. Call it Non-Verbal language.

2/3 of our communication are not verbal (in Without You, there is a line “you always smile, but in your eyes, your sorrow shows, yes it shows”).

Yet few of us were schooled, trained or able to detect these hidden codes: I am cool. I don’t give a damn. I am somebody. I am everybody. I am nobody. Try me…..

Conversely, people receive unintended messages we did not know we  send.

I’ve got money. I don’ t respect you enough (clothing mismatched). I am carefree. I am careful. Don’t mess with me (tatoo and black T’s).

In the States, cars make statements. Here, it’s the scooters.

A guitar as backpack (musician) a rolled-up mat (yoga) a cone hat (urban migrant) a kid with balloon (mom has a night out and spends guilt money).

Every stripe and strand co-exist and negotiate limited space.

The upper crust has already left town to exclusive and elite resorts, leaving behind the “mass who live in quiet desperation” in the tourist district, where people lean against fake trees and work up a fake smile for photo ops.

If you stood and watched people, you are not sure between background and foreground, which one is more on display.

Wait until 4-G is here.

Then we will have completed our evolutionary cycle (self-expression with a cost).

When those sport cars came out, they were intended to say: I own this toy, reserved for me and my girlfriend (parents and entourage are not welcome).

So will it be with the I’s family of products (unless you share the listening device  with one significant other). The I-pod Shuffle was meant for one, jogger preferably.

Not the boombox that blasts out Christmas music for the whole neighborhood.

Yes, in our technological society, the clear message (which happens to be the medium, according to McLuhan) is that, I finally am. Arrived. Leave me alone. Leave your old world behind (communal and village-bound). I am OK, you are OK or not, it’s irrelevant. When the playing field is leveled (by us duck-sitting as advertising headcounts), they will upgrade to some other games which will require premium fees.

So we celebrate the upcoming New Year, with ” a will to try” so as not to be left out or behind.

My New Year resolution is to read people better, however subtle the intended messages might be. Often times, it’s mixed message. After all, the world is our non-verbal bookstore. Just  hope I don’t run into a real FBI agent, undercover as a lottery-ticket pusher.

No rest for the weary

Saigon currently is under a shield of grey. The weary, the worried put on ponchos, just to take them off. False alarm.

Oh Come Ye O Faithful blasted out from neighboring homes.

Christmas is in the air. but not for those who make a living hand-to-mouth, and there are a lot them. Maybe this year is the year they can go back home to the countryside.

At rush hour, on CMTT, I spot one blonde girl in a taxi, engulfed by thousands of bikes, inching for any empty space.

The Western lady and the common folks, both try to get somewhere. But they are worlds apart (albeit separated by only thin glass). Even American felt hemmed in on narrow streets of Paris

let alone being in this tight a spot.

It’s symbolic of today’s Vietnam. You may find I-phone 5 and I-pad here.  You can even spot a celebrity now and then. But from their standpoint, even when it moves fast, it still cannot catch up with ROW.

With rising expectation we find more crime on the street. I heard two incidents where people yell “cuop” (thieves).  Scooters chasing scooters. Not sure who was who.

But on cooler days like today, with Christmas in the air, I hope for some rest,for myself and for the weary. For those who sell lottery tickets, those peddlers, recyclers, those who wear cone hats or contact lens.

We even have a blind singer who shouts “We will we will rock you“.  May he have some rest before tonight’s show.

It’s been hot here, with almost two weeks of drought.  You can see it in people’s faces.  Just find a shade, a tree, a breeze, a fan or a A/C room.

Don’t judge (until you experience it for yourself) why people start drinking cold beer around 3PM.  Or the girls, traditionally prefer lighter skin, only go out late evening.

With low GDP, high temperature and young work force, the combination hast been far from perfect albeit promising. As a whole, Vietnam has one thing in its favor: the future. For now, the analog generation is giving way to the digital.

And it’s the latter who shall rule. First online, then off. For now, the weary keeps selling lottery tickets, sweeping the streets by hand, and even starting a fire by charcoal. Just to earn those three meals a day is hard work.  Just so the young can play games online. Can learn English. And occasionally, ride a Wet-and-Wild at nearby theme parks.

Life is good.  The population is happy.  What’s a credit card anyway? I got my change back given to me in two hands. I respect that. Keep at it. Don’t lose it.

Numbers game

At any time of the day in Saigon, you might be approached by street vendors selling lottery tickets, snacks. Even Buddhist monks hold a donation box but with fixed gaze in Zen steps i.e. barefooted on hot concrete.

Self-punishment. I respect the monks. Their self-control , from strict diet to dress code.

Life evolves around 8-fold path.

Born to suffer. Born this way.

The vendors of Saigon play their numbers game.

Lottery players do so as well.

They gather at close-of-business day for the winning numbers.

Dream on.

The more tickets you buy, the more money you lose.

Meanwhile, folks flock to Cambodia where casinos are legal. Reminds me of S Californians who make similar trips to Sin City (Las Vegas).

Dream on.

Meanwhile, Mirage expands to Macau.

Numbers game again. Improving your odds.

Everyone is on the move. Einstein theory on motion (Earth rotates etc…). Gotta improve the odds. Gotta to change that luck. Gotta play the numbers game, however small the probability. Dream on, move on. Nghin nam sau soi da van can co nhau. Thousand years on, rock and pebbles still need each other. What a song and a line to be played at funerals. Quite fleeting.

Wash away

Rain pours so hard here in Saigon. It feels like a city wash. Yet bike traffic never ceases.

Wet city streets didn’t stop weekend spontaneous racing.

Hard-earned money got washed away just as quickly as it is earned, mostly at beer stalls. People press RESET and go on. It’s not too different elsewhere.

Just differs in intensity and speed. Beer consumption is now ranked in the top 3 countries.

BBC News ranked Vietnam as number 7 most-risked nation in internet security.

In life, I also noticed an army of private security at every establishment.

It is not unusual to walk into a night club, just to find yourself surrounded by people: server, waitress, security and manager.

This spontaneous entourage would empty your wallet as quickly as a New York minute.

Meanwhile, everyone else is asleep, occasionally disrupted by the sound of street racing.

And when it rains again the next day, everything seems to take second place to the one and only priority: stay dry and stay alive (with bikers in front and next to you splashing water into your face). Pedestrian lights are now installed, with visible count-down to allow enough time for an amputated man to crawl across the street.

I admire his drive to survive here. And to everyone, it seems like a daily walk in Central Park.

I too press RESET a lot while here. A splash in the States will only be a free windshield wash. But everyone here seems to take nature’s disruption in stride. I have seen bikers talking on the phone, smoking while zig zagging through an alley. Or in the back seat, not just a lady with a cone hat. But the lady with a cone hat and her two baskets of donuts, balancing on her shoulders with a cane. Anything and everything is transported on wheels . Rain or tears couldn’t stop people in motion. Storm only serves as city-wash. It will take a few more decades to clear away the legacy of war, making way for peace and true prosperity. By the time you finish reading this, our amputated man has already crossed the street on his hands, asking you to buy a lottery ticket. He has already emerged a winner in my book.

 

Mother’s memorial and modern madam

It’s been a few days since full moon. But people here in HCMC still burn incense and ceremonial money for the dead, most particularly, for deceased mothers. Meanwhile, there is a class of women entrepreneurs who don’t mind drink you under the table, drive to work and in every aspect, personify the softer side of Saigon.

There is a list of richest women published yearly, from real estate to private university, and everything in between.

So, it’s either the upper crust, or those who sell lottery tickets in the rain.

Vietnamese lit often depicts mothers as stern but strong : handling everything in the back room, yet giving credits to their husbands, who mainly serve as greeters. We got the Trung sisters, and Ms Trieu who fought the Chinese invaders.

A new class of single moms have emerged to shoulder all burdens of modern life.

I took my mom’s picture back in the mid-80’s. So it was a bit of a surprise to see the miniature version placed in the back of Van Hanh Temple in Dalat.

I looked twice to find her name plate. She was and in spirit still is my mother, yet known as a teacher to others. She taught me life lessons e.g. be considerate always, put others’ need before your own, and never forget where you came from.

I used to stop by her assisted living apartment to visit, just to find a full meal waiting for me. Today’s equivalent of a Sheraton buffet.

Modernity is pressed for time. And traditional bon vivant is the sacrificial lamb. Burger and drink, want fries with it?

With its current rate, we might see not only the living but also the dead here end up with fast food.  For now, everyone still use ceremonial money and toss rice into the air, to be in harmony with the spirits world. Peace in this life and the next.

Anyone who knows a little bit about history of Vietnam, wouldn’t say it’s a machismo culture.

Watch out for Tiger mom here. Single-handedly, they once did what the whole Trans-Pact Partnership could barely reach an agreement i.e. how to contain and eject unwanted invaders.