I’M READY to go home to Patria adorada after a week’s stay. Meanwhile I’m soaking myself with personal impressions of the Vietnamese people I met and that of their city Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC), formerly Saigon.
Whenever I’m in a new place, I often ask myself “Can I live here?” Phrased differently, the question could be “Could I survive here?”
My answer to those questions: Yes, I could. Please take note of “could.” It’s a conditional.
What I like in HCMC: 95 percent of the natives who ride motorbikes wearing crash helmets. (The bad news, however, is that couples ride piggy back bringing with them their kids).
The Vietnamese are polite, relaxed and quick to smile. The police are unobtrusive, we are free to go where we want to go. Of course, the authorities prefer us to go to Ben Thanh and other commercial places for shopping sprees.
Having said that, I seldom see homeless people. According to Trinh Thi My Dung, one of our participants, those “homeless” people live under the bridge not because they have no shelters but want to cadge the government for doleouts. Environmentalist and human rights activist Trinh said these “homeless victims” live a better life than she does.
Sans the hammer and sickle flags, HCMC might look like other Southeast
Asian city. The streets are clean if narrower. Night life is more wholesome where families, barkadas, and sweethearts eat out.
Restaurants stay open even at 10 p.m. So too the textile and even groceries. There is virtually no need for 24-hour convenience stores.
Small businesses line most of downtown HCMC providing a source of employment for most Vietnamese.
I saw many Buddhist shrines and even Catholic nuns in downtown HCMC.
So the spiritual atmosphere is relaxed even if atheism is taught in the schools.
In fact, Marxism-Leninism is included in the school curriculum. Many of those who want a more secure life apply to join the Vietnamese Workers’ Party. But many join the Party out of convenience, not out of firm belief in the ideology, says one of our Vietnamese participants.
In fact, the fellow discourages the office staff not to join. There is no need for everyone to be on board.
My issues: internet connection is spotty. I cannot access the BBC, but I have no problem in reading the international news on CNN. Of course, I have no problem with reading local and national Philippine news. I wonder if I can the non-access to official censorship.
Then there’s the food. I wonder why Vietnam can afford to export its rice. Probably because the Vietnamese staple food are noodles and vegetables. Breakfast, lunch, dinner.
The good thing with the vegetables—most of which are eaten raw—is that
I seldom saw obesity. Most Vietnamese looked trim and fit and have healthy skin. But I had some withdrawal symptoms from all those noodles and vegetables. Rice, rice!
Traffic is more organized compared to 2009 when I first visited HCMC. Yet it remains a bit wild. Motorcycles to the right, cabs, and private cars fill the lanes. At least, I have no more problems getting hit by motorbikes in sidewalks.
In hotels, we have to surrender our passports. Why Vietnamese authorities demand that, I have no idea. Surely they don’t expect Filipino visitors to do a TNT (Tago ng Tago).
Yes, I could live here. But come to think of it, I wouldn’t replace Bacólod that I want to call home.
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(bqsanc@yahoo.com)