OznAsia

On Sunday night I watched the BBC's review of the week's news. It showed the presidents of Afghanistan and Pakistan along with Barack Obama showing their solidarity and talking about the need to suppress the Taliban in these two countries. And of course there is the suggestion that is so often raised that if the Taliban take control of Pakistan they will have access to Pakistan's nuclear weapons. The thought is planted in our minds but no one seems to want to take this suggestion any further. We are left with the thought to do what it will in our minds.

I want so much to give Barack Obama a chance. He talked about the need for change and he talked about withdrawing from Iraq. Is this man sincere? I hope so, but...

And then it dawned on me. Change? Nothing has changed.

I cast my mind back to the late 60s and early 70s, to the time of the Vietnam war. The justification for that war was the domino theory—if one country fell to communism all the others would fall too like a row of dominoes. We were inculcated with the fear of communism to entice us to accept that war just as now we are inculcated with the fear of al-Qaeda and extreme Islam so that we support today's wars.

Did the communist dominoes fall as we were told they would after Vietnam won the war?

'If you want to shrink something, you must first allow it to expand.
If you want to get rid of something, you must first allow it to flourish.
If you want to take something, you must first allow it to be given.
This is called the subtle perception of the way things are.'

Ajahn Sumano Bhikku
Monk in the Mountain

Labels: Barack Obama, Buddhism, Islam, propaganda, religion, terrorism, US, Vietnam

Regular readers of this blog will know that I have had a four year association with Buddhist charity, Tzu Chi. You will also know that last year I spent some time in Vietnam and stay in touch with friends there. Today I give you a link to a site that brings these two parts of my life together—an article on Vietnam in the Tzu Chi magazine. I hope you find it interesting. While you are there perhaps you might follow some links and learn a little about the work of Tzu Chi.

Labels: Asia, Buddhism, Hanoi, Tzu Chi, Vietnam

I go to daily Khmer lessons with a young woman who is capable and intelligent. While chatting, Esther mentioned a particular organization that for the sake of this blog we shall call XYZ. Esther said she would love to work for XYZ but she didn't know if she had the right qualifications and if she did she couldn't afford to pay the bribe that would be required by the interviewer.

I was shocked. I am aware that paying a bribe to get a job is commonplace here in Cambodia and also Vietnam. In fact, while I was in Vietnam I watched a movie that told of the challenges a young woman faced when she was refused a job that she had qualified for because she either couldn't or wouldn't pay a bribe to the interviewer. In this didactic movie the young woman set up her own business, faced the challenges—yes the interviewer comes back later in the story and attempts to sabotage her efforts—and eventually succeeds. The fact that such a movie was made, perhaps by a government film studio, shows that this practice is endemic in Vietnam. This is also the case in Cambodia.

But XYZ is a huge international NGO. If I mentioned its name, you would more than likely be quite familiar with it. I expressed to Esther my shock that such an organization would allow such practices to take place. I went on to say, that if she applied for a job with that organization and was refused a job that she would otherwise have got because she couldn't or wouldn't pay a bribe then I would be prepared to take the matter to the head of the organization in Cambodia and if that didn't result in the interviewer being sacked that I would take it to the international media and that it would be very embarrassing for XYZ.

Esther then backed down and said she had to admit she had no knowledge of this practice within XYZ. This was simply her expectation. I assured her that the international reputation of XYZ was far too important for them to allow such practices to take place and that if they advertised a job she was interested in and qualified for she should apply in confidence that she would be able to win the job without having to pay a bribe.

The point I want to make is that it is the expectation of this practice that makes potential job applicants give up before they even start. Why apply if you are not going to get the job anyway?

How it works, so I'm told, is that the usual interview process takes place and the best person for the job is selected. They are offered the job on condition of payment of the bribe which is an amount equal to one or two months salary. If the best applicant can't or won't pay the bribe, the offer is made to the second best and so on down the line. Perhaps it is the sixth best applicant who finally comes up with the money. Can you imagine what this does to the efficiency and effectiveness of government and other agencies where this is practised?

I go back to my point that many potential applicants give up before they even start. Why apply if you can't afford to buy the job? There is a similar belief when it comes to applying for a scholarship. 'Why bother?' said a very intelligent student of mine. 'All the scholarships will go to students who have family working in the education department.' This may or may not be true. The point is that it is believed and young people who have much potential give up and waste their lives doing something way below their ability.

Until countries such as Cambodia and Vietnam rid themselves of such practices they will never reach their full potential.

Labels: Asia, Cambodia, money, poverty, ripoff, scam, Vietnam

Have I really seen Vietnam in my one month stay? Definitely no.

To those familiar with Thailand, Khao San Road is the area in Bangkok where many backpackers hostels are located. I've been there for the occasional visit. I am familiar with the area but I've never stayed there. The place is set up to cater for the needs of (and to some extent to exploit) the backpackers who come usually for a stay of a few days. I have spent a lot of time in Thailand, perhaps totalling about two years. Most of that time has been spent in Mahasarakham where travellers don't often venture. I'm happy that I have not spent a lot of time in the pretend Thailand that is Khao San Road but have got to know what I believe to be the real Thailand where Thai people live their lives as Thai people normally do with little or no interest in the needs of tourists.

My achievement in Vietnam is to have spent a month in the Hanoi old quarter, perhaps the 'Khao San Road' of Vietnam. I don't have a problem with this. During this time I have got to know one or two Vietnamese people. If it wasn't for these friends, perhaps I'd have moved on elsewhere. As it is, I feel I've had enough of being treated like a tourist every time I step out the hotel door (but not by my friends). When I return to Vietnam I hope to spend some time off the tourist trail.

Labels: Asia, Hanoi, travel, Vietnam

I have been preparing for my trip to China. I have made several visits to the Chinese Embassy. I like walking around, finding my way around Hanoi, there's always a lot to see, so I don't mind. I get lost nearly every day but somehow I get back home.

The first Embassy visit I went in the afternoon, not knowing their hours. They are only open in the morning.

I went back the following morning. There was a queue outside and they let people in one or two at a time. There is a form that you can fill in while you wait but it is only in Chinese and Vietnamese. There are instructions in English stuck on a notice board outside but unless you read one of those Asian languages you would have to guess what the questions are. There are people there who try to help you but they don't speak English either. Also, I forgot to take my pen and my reading glasses.

In the instructions there are all sorts of rules and regulations about what you can and can't do when you enter the embassy: no mobile phones, no cameras, no sunglasses and a few more that I don't remember. Is this a taste of what is to come in China?

I took a few copies of the form back to my hotel room. One of my Vietnamese friends helped me to fill it in.

From somewhere I got the information that the visa fee if you do it yourself is $US25 for a one month visa. You can save all the hassles by getting an agent to do it. They charge $US40 for the same visa. I talked to one of them and they didn't seem to know too much about the options or costs if you wanted anything other than the usual one month. $15 is a lot of money in Vietnam and I'm not rushing to hand over my money to someone whose knowledge is little better than mine, if that.

I wasn't sure if the embassy would take dong instead of dollars and I only had dong. I didn't want to turn up with the wrong currency and be rejected. I've had enough of going back and forward and if I don't act quickly I'd have to pay a late fee. I went to the bank and asked if I could exchange some dong for dollars. You would not believe all the rules and regulations involved to do this. Basically you had to prove you were leaving the country. The proof would be the visa that I needed to pay the dollars for but without the dollars...

I came up with another idea and went back to the bank. Yes, they would allow me to do an over-the-counter cash advance with my Visa card and take the money in dollars. The fee is 3% and this from the bank that is recommended as the one with the most reasonable charges in the country. On top of this I know that Visa will charge $A5 and my bank in Australia will charge 2.5%. It's costing me a lot of money to get hold of my own money—one of the travellers ripoffs that I haven't got around to writing about yet.

So, I got the money and headed to the embassy avoiding all the motorcycle-taxi drivers who wish to deprive me of my exercise so that they can make some money from the foreigner. The queue was a bit shorter at the embassy this time. Many Asian people don't seem to understand the concept of a queue. They just push past to the front of the line. There's no point in saying anything. They won't understand. Just stay calm. Eventually I'm at the front of the queue and I get to go inside and join one of the queues in there, in the air conditioning.

My application is accepted. I had requested three months but for some reason he made me change this to one. That's fine. If China won't let me stay that long, I'll spend my money in another country for those two months.

I picked up the visa on Thursday. It cost $30. Fortunately I withdrew a few extra. Everything looks fine. I've bought a bus ticket to take me all the way to Nanning, in China, on Sunday.

If you've been reading this blog regularly you will be aware of the trouble I went through to acquire a copy of Lonely Planet China. Got an email from friends who visited last year. They had their copy confiscated at the border. Apparently it's a prohibited import.

Labels: Asia, Hanoi, travel, Vietnam

I like to read the online travellers' forums for information that might be useful, particularly when I'm going somewhere that's new to me. There is an interesting thread at the moment about a hotel in Hanoi that made a deal with a customer to cut their price. The following day they kicked them out because they were able to get someone else to take the room at a better price. The customer posted the information not to whinge but to warn others so they didn't fall into the same trap.

Last time I checked, this thread had 47 postings. Many were suggesting that the hotel's behaviour was not bad and that it was OK for business people in poor countries to behave in such ways and that rich westerners have no right to complain. I find this attitude is not uncommon here in Vietnam. It seems some think 'I am poor, you are rich, therefore it's OK for me to rip you off.'

I believe that this attitude will help to keep people poor.

What happens when you go on a holiday? You get home you talk about it, perhaps you blog it or write in travellers' forums. If your experience was a positive one then those who hear what you have to say may be inspired to go to the same destination. If your experience was a negative one others will be less inclined to follow in your footsteps. Sometimes most of the experience might be good and there are one or two negative ones. Unfortunately it is often the negative ones that stick in the memory.

Every time someone in a developing country rips off a traveller they are adding to the negative attitudes that 'rich westerners' have of their country. In such countries tourism is often one of the major export earners. Negative behaviour towards travellers hurts the whole economy of the country. If we hear lots of bad stuff about a country we choose to go somewhere else.

If Vietnam, Cambodia or any other country wants to improve its export income through tourism and thus help the people out of their poverty there needs to be an education campaign to teach those who deal with travellers, from the street vendors and taxi drivers to hotel managers, that treating people badly only hurts themselves in the long run.

I might add that I am staying in a very cheap hotel in Hanoi. Despite this, I am always treated well by staff. They behave with complete integrity. I would like to think this is the way the majority of Vietnamese hotels treat their customers.

Labels: Asia, Cambodia, Hanoi, holiday, money, poverty, ripoff, travel, Vietnam

I already own a guidebook for China but I left it behind in Cambodia because I figured it wasn't worth carrying that weight around for eight months. I figured I'd be able to pick up a cheap second-hand one in Vietnam.

The shops here have plenty of stock of many different guide books, usually in pirate editions. Up till a few days ago I hadn't seen one for China.

Around the corner from where I'm staying is a shop that Lonely Planet Vietnam describes as a 'big second-hand bookshop'. Big? I must have walked past it at least twenty times before I realized there was even a bookshop there. And as anyone who knows me knows, I am supersensitive to bookshops.

So, I dropped in. They had a second-hand copy of Lonely Planet China. Checked the edition—2005. Not too old. The previous owner had written copious notes in the margins and underlined half the book. I can live with that. Maybe some of the notes might even be useful. So what are they asking for this? On the cover are stickers that say: 'Original'. That's correct. It's not a pirate edition. 'New price $30.' Yep, on the back the US price is $29.95. 'Now rare. $28.' I burst out laughing. The woman at the counter looked up at me. I explained the joke that had made me laugh. She wasn't amused.

I decided to look somewhere where they didn't have such a humorous idea of pricing books. There is another shop I'd spotted a few days before that had a few second-hand guidebooks but none on China at the time. I went back there. They had one. Same edition. But when I opened it I saw that at least twenty pages had been ripped out completely and some animal, it appears, has bitten a piece of about 4 cm radius from most of the other pages and a smaller chunk out of a few others. Gee, I wish I could find the person who previously owned this one. There might be a good story in it.

There is another bookshop in town that Lonely Planet Vietnam says has 'the best selection of English language books in Hanoi'. They have both new and second-hand. I hadn't been to that part of town but decided it was time I ventured a little further from the old quarter. One of the staff members said 'hi' to me in an Australian accent. There was a pirate edition of the book I was looking for. The price? 250,000 dong. That's $18.50 in Australian money or $US15.50—for a pirate edition that can be bought in Cambodia for around $US3. Or at least could be back when I was last there.

Obviously I'm not going to Cambodia to buy the book. And I'm starting to think that perhaps 'now rare' is correct for Hanoi at least.

I decide to go back to the shop with the half-eaten copy. No, I'm not going to buy it. I'm just intrigued to see how much they're asking for it. The price? 50,000 dong. The woman explains that the book is out of print and will not be available until around November. She says she has a friend with a good second-hand copy that he will sell for 400,000 dong if I'm interested. I tell her I can get a pirate edition for 250,000. She is at first disbelieving.

I decided that the following morning I'd connect to the internet and see if the book is in fact out of print. But the next morning there is a bit of storm activity about and I decide against connecting my computer. I go straight to the bookshop with the pirate edition. I don't want to enter China without any information in my hands.

When I get there I have a chat with the Australian. He tells me that the book is in fact out of print. He says they would not normally sell a pirate edition but under the circumstances they feel they are helping people in need. (Like me.) Apparently they had to make a trip to Hoi An to get these books. He says there's none in Hanoi and I can agree with that. I've been looking in all the bookshops and all the pirate bookstalls. We chat on. I'm intrigued as to why the pirate books are so much cheaper in Cambodia than here. I ask if he knows where they are printed. He says he heard they were printed after hours at the Government Printing Office in Ho Chi Minh City.

I fork out my 250,000 dong and take my book home. That afternoon I connect to the internet and check the Lonely Planet website. It says that there is a new edition now available, released in May 2007. So why hasn't it reached Vietnam yet?

Labels: Asia, Hanoi, travel, Vietnam

Some of the hawkers have come to know me now as the see me day after day wandering the streets of Hanoi. Occasionally they go through the motions but most of them know it is just a game and that I am very unlikely to buy anything.

On one corner there were three or four hawkers standing and sitting with their wares. I stopped for a minute chatting. Suddenly, someone said something that I didn't understand and they scattered. They all but disappeared, then stopped and returned. It was a false alarm. They thought it was the police coming.

There were two motorcycles approaching. They looked like police to me but I am often confused by uniforms in Asia.

'So what do the police do if they catch you selling?' I asked.

'They take all my t-shirts and make me pay money,' one answered.

I'm not sure exactly what that means except that for the hawker it is an overhead expense that must be factored into the price they charge for the goods.

Labels: Asia, Hanoi, hawker, Vietnam

I can pick the new visitors to Hanoi. I see them standing on the side of the road waiting for an opportunity to cross. They start to rush, suddenly a bike is bearing down on them, they freeze. That's the quickest way to die in Hanoi.

On the other hand if you don't take the risk it is possible you could die of old age while waiting to cross.

In all Southeast Asian cities I've visited, except Singapore, it is a challenge to cross the road. In Singapore drivers are even more polite and considerate than we are used to in western countries. Anywhere else, crossing can seem impossible. Pedestrian crossings mean nothing. Green lights with a walking figure mean nothing. For that matter, footpaths mean nothing. To step out the door of a building is to risk collision with a motorcycle. Left side of the road, right side of the road, one way, pedestrians only—they all mean nothing. Almost anywhere a pedestrian can go so can a bike and they do; no matter that laws or common sense might tell you otherwise.

Bangkok has its overhead bridges that make it safe to get to the other side. I have not seen any in Hanoi. So if I don't want to get old on this side of the road, what do I do?

The longest journey begins with the first step. Yep, that's it. You have to take a step. No wait, look first and if there is nothing bearing down on you take that step. Now keep looking in both directions and keep stepping. Avoid the urge to run. After a while I realized that the motorcyclists don't really want to kill me. Maybe they don't care but it would delay their journey and they could also be injured. They prefer to avoid you. If you are visible, they will try to figure the best way to avoid you. I watch them and see they usually change direction— usually to go behind me which means I keep walking. Sometimes they aim to go in front of me which means I stay still for a second but ready to move on as soon as there is a space.

I tried this one night at a really busy intersection. It looked impossible to get across but once I made the move it wasn't long before I'd reached the other side. Everyone simply rode around me and I kept on moving. No heart attacks. I safely reached the other side.

It is perhaps more challenging walking along the narrow streets that comprise the Hanoi old quarter. The footpaths are impassable because they are used for motorcycle parking or people eating and the narrow streets are filled with motorcycles coming in all directions and honking to say 'Get out of my way.' Or so it seems.

I have had many near misses. On two occasions as close as one centimetre. One guy came around a corner apparently oblivious to the fact that I was walking on that part of the road. Fortunately he saw me just in time. I find the most dangerous are usually young women who beep and it really does seem to mean, don't expect me to give way to you. I was crossing at one intersection. There was nothing ahead of me. I hear a loud beep. I had no time to react but was missed by less than a centimetre by a motorcycle with two girls on it coming around the corner.

So please don't worry about me being ripped off by hawkers. The most dangerous thing in Hanoi is walking down the street.

Labels: Asia, Hanoi, travel, Vietnam

In Melaka, in the colonial era, houses were taxed by the width of the frontage. To avoid the tax, land was divided with narrow frontages and stretched sometimes as far back as 100 metres and more. The terraced houses filled the space.

Here in Hanoi, the situation was apparently similar but more extreme. The narrowest house I have seen so far was not worth photographing. The view of it was blocked by an electricity pole which almost obscured it.

In Melaka, they designed the houses with a courtyard or two to let in light and air. Most houses in Hanoi are too narrow to effectively do this. The stairwell takes up the full width of the house. Air flow is almost non-existent. In hot weather they can be very stuffy without air conditioning. And many of these houses are now hotels.

I did move house after a few days in the relative luxury of my previous place. I'm now in one of those narrow hotels. My room can't be much more than two metres wide, if that. But it's long. It has it's own bathroom with hot and cold water. Though why anyone would want hot water in this climate is beyond me.

The only thing I miss is the in-room internet cable. I could sit in comfort and stay online as long as I wanted. But considering that the top rate in an internet cafe here is less than A50 cents an hour, it was hard to justify staying in the old place. The only problem is that the internet cafes are also in narrow buildings and usually lack air conditioning. It doesn't encourage me to spend hours online.

Labels: Asia, Hanoi, Malacca, Melaka, travel, Vietnam

Most people in Hanoi seem to eat on the footpath on small tables that might be used in a western kindergarten. I was taken to such a restaurant for dinner one night. The tables were cramped together. We had to squeeze between the other diners to get to our table.

I've always enjoyed Vietnamese food that I've eaten in Australia. And the food from Vietnamese restaurants in Thailand has also been enjoyable. I realize we in the west don't get the real thing in our home country when it comes to Asian foods. It's adapted to suit our taste buds. So, I'm not too surprised to find that food here is at times different from what I've eaten in the past. But my Vietnamese friends agree with my main complaint that it can often be too salty and too oily.

I like to eat where the locals eat. Looking for somewhere for lunch one day I found a restaurant that was fairly crowded with Vietnamese. It had tables and chairs inside and they were full size. This probably adds a few dong to the price of the meal but I don't mind. Out the front there was a menu in English. You can't look at such a menu without having someone come out and hover to encourage you inside. They had chicken and cashews. I pointed to it and said, 'Does this come with rice?'

'Yes rice,' he answered.

I ordered it and found myself a free table. When the meal came I was quite disappointed. Most of the pieces of chicken were straight chicken fat. And the cashews...well, they weren't cashews at all. They were peanuts and I'm allergic to peanuts. I called the waitress over. I pointed to the peanuts. 'What are these?'

She smiled, went and got the menu and pointed to the item where it said, 'chicken and cashews'.

'No,' I told her. 'These are not cashews. These are peanuts. If I eat them I will get sick.'

She kept smiling and said nothing. How much she understood I do not know.

When I got my bill, to add insult to injury, they charged me extra for the rice. I accept that this was a communication problem but it did not help to allay my disgust with the place. There were a couple of other westerners contemplating the menu. I waved to them and beckoned them over. 'I don't recommend this place,' I said. They quietly left.

Before I left I told the waitress I would give her a correct translation of what they served me. I wrote on a piece of paper they gave me, 'Chicken fat and peanuts'. I hope they get around to updating their menu soon.

At another restaurant I was given a mixed plate that included silkworm larvae. No, I didn't eat them.

But it's not all bad. For breakfast I usually go to the market around the corner from my hotel, sit on a kindergarten stool among the Vietnamese and eat noodles with green veges. I never see another westerner there.

I am happy to report that I can also buy fresh lichees at less than A40 cents a kilo. I'm told I should be able to do better than that. There must be something wrong with my bargaining powers. That's as low as they'll go for me.

Fresh fruit juices here are great. At one cafe I buy a mix of mango and custard apple. I'm fussy about additives in my juices. They commonly add milk and sugar but I can report from the texture and flavour that I judge this to be 100% fruit. Delicious. After a morning of walking and photography I found a place where I could buy cool 100% durian juice. Once again, delicious. Each of these cost less than $A1—a bargain.

And for lunch and dinner I must admit I'm now usually eating in restaurants frequented by at least one or two other westerners.

Labels: Asia, Hanoi, travel, Vietnam

Anyone who knows me is aware that one of my objectives in travelling is to be able to see the world through the eyes of the people who live in the countries I travel to. Sometimes this is difficult because of my own insecurities. However, if I let go of those insecurities I may have opportunities to share the lives of these people.

My friends in Cambodia once told me I am not like other westerners. 'How is that?' I asked.

'You trust us.'

I don't trust everyone. But I'd never had any reason to mistrust those people. I prefer to give them the benefit of the doubt and they took me into their lives.

Here in Vietnam I have befriended a family who invited me to visit their home on the outskirts of Hanoi. I would like to share with you some of what I observed.

I was taken to the village on the back of a motorcycle. We rode down a narrow lane between houses. At the end was a row of four terraces. Each was perhaps four metres wide. We parked the bike outside the second one and went inside.

Three people live in the house. The mother, 62, is divorced and lives with a daughter, 28, and son, 19. The daughter is a teacher in a secondary school, that's years six to nine here I believe. Secondary students have three months holiday at this time of the year, so teachers do too, without pay. The son has just finished high school but failed to obtain a high school diploma so has to work in a noodle factory for which he is paid 20,000 dong ($1A is about 13,500 dong) for a shift. This is not enough to pay for his food. The mother doesn't work. She gets some benefits from the government but I'm not sure if she actually gets a pension.

The front room of the house is the living room. It is not much deeper than it is wide. There are steepish narrow stairs without a rail going upstairs. There is a rather fancy wooden cabinet but all the other furniture is plastic. Behind this room is the bedroom in which the mother and daughter sleep. Not much room beside the two beds. The third room at the back is the kitchen. It is smaller than both the other rooms. There is a bench on one side. The larger part of the room is partitioned by two brick walls of about two metres high. In one section there is water storage. The next has the stove. The third has the shower and toilet with only a curtain separating it from the kitchen. The back door is made of wood that looks like it's been scavenged from a rotten boat. There is a backyard about 1.5 metres deep with concrete walls on all sides.

Later I was taken upstairs. There are two rooms. One where the son sleeps and a semi-open area used for hanging washing. A roof has recently been built over this section, not well though. It slopes backward so that rain water runs inside and seeps through to the rooms beneath.

While I was sitting in the front room a guy came to the door. He and the mother were talking in Vietnamese and it seemed they were arguing. Voices were raised. I was looking out the door just taking in what was going on. The daughter had gone to the kitchen and came to call me back there. She explained that this man was the garbage collector. There is no municipal garbage collection. In Cambodia the situation is similar but people either bury or burn their garbage. In this home there is not room to do either. On the opposite side of the lane are plastic bags piled about two metres high and along about three. This is their garbage from the past couple of months. It had not been collected because there is some dispute with the collector. I was told, 'You should not look at him. Because him see we have foreigner friend. Now him want to charge more money.'

They invited me to stay to dinner. After checking what I like to eat the daughter went to the local market. She returned and cooked an extremely delicious dinner and plenty of it. I haven't eaten so well for a long time.

I felt warmly received in this home. As in other parts of Asia I find that people who have so little are often the ones who give the most.

Labels: Asia, Hanoi, Vietnam

Never before have I been bombarded with so many hawkers. And never before have I met hawkers so persistent and who ask so much more than the real price. In the old quarter of Hanoi there are hawkers everywhere. When they see a westerner they smile because the sight of a westerner means an opportunity to make a lot of money.

I have experienced this latter aspect in Cambodia. But the Cambodian hawkers are not so greedy nor so persistent. They usually accept 'no'. Of course this phenomenon is created by tourists. Ask yourself, if you were an extremely poor vendor and every foreigner who bought from you gave you a tip, how long would it take before you put the price up to include the tip?

However, some vendors have another tactic they use on top of overcharging. They try to make you feel guilty if you refuse to pay their price. They argue, 'You very rich. I poor. You can afford to pay.' Among others, I heard this argument from a guy hawking pirate copies of books such as Lonely Planet guidebooks. He was asking only a dollar or two less than the recommended price of the authentic book. The quality was nowhere near that of the real thing.

I go out walking each day. The streets of Hanoi fascinate me and I take lots of photos. This morning I was walking through a market when a guy pushed past me in the crowd and told me he would fix my sandal for me. I bought these sandals soon after I arrived in KL three months ago. They may be cheap but they are still good. He put his stool down on the footpath ahead of me and got out his needle and thread. He's was pointing to my sandal and saying he would sew them up for only one dollar.

'You're kidding!'

'OK, 15,000 dong.' One US dollar is about 16,000 dong.

'No thank you.' I continued to walk on down the street.

'12,000...10,000' He continued to follow carrying his stool.

'If you do them for free I don't want you to sew my sandals.'

He turned, said nothing and walked away as if to snub me.

One morning I was walking along the lake shore. It was hot. I was a little tired so I sat on a bench to rest in the shade of a tree. An easy target.








A book vendor was the first to approach me. I'd been there long enough to know their prices and their quality. I got rid of him quickly.

A pretty young girl came and sat beside me with a basket of souvenir gift items. She sat with me for about ten minutes going through all her items one by one. 'You have daughter? She like purse?' The purses were very nice and she only wanted 30,000 dong for one. But I wasn't biting. She took out a fan and showed me the beautiful craftsmanship and began fanning my face.

'How much do I have to pay you to sit here and fan me like this all day?'

'100 dollars.' She smiled.

I told her that I really didn't want to buy anything but if she wanted to sit I was enjoying chatting with her. She stayed. Occasionally she showed me something else which I politely rejected.

While all this was going on I noticed there were other westerners walking along the lakefront. A vendor would approach and they would not engage with them in any way. They wouldn't even say 'no'. They would make no eye contact, just walk briskly past.

I think this is unfortunate. To me, the most enjoyable part of being in a different country is to be able to engage in some way with the local people and to try to see the world from their perspective. Tourists such as these might see the sights. They might go to a cultural show but surely the real culture is to be found in the people themselves.

After the delightful young lady had decided I was a lost cause and moved on, another came and sat beside me. She looked very young. 'I have to sell to make money to go to school,' she told me. Yes, I'd encountered this phenomenon many times at Angkor Wat.

'I'm sorry, I don't want to buy anything,' I told her. 'But if you want to sit and chat that's OK.'

She did but every now and then would hopefully show me an item. Unfortunately this didn't last long. A security guard came along, gave her a talking to and sent her away. When I got up to continue my walk she was on the other side of the road. She beckoned to me but I didn't bother.

So, am I totally as hard as nails? Four years in Asia has made me immune to even the most pathetic beggar but occasionally I do get caught.

In Vietnam many women carry their goods in a couple of baskets hanging from a piece of wood across their shoulders. One tried to sell me some pineapple or bananas. I declined. She followed. Then she offered, 'Take picture.' She smiled as she pointed to herself. She was quite photogenic. I was tempted but I figured that would have a price too.

Eventually she gave up. But it wasn't long before another started following me with similar goods and the same patter. When it got to 'Take picture', I said, 'I'd love to take your picture but you will want me to pay you.'

'No money,' she said.

'No money?'

'No money,' she was already posing.








'OK.' I took a few shots of her.

When I'd finished she put down her baskets and said, 'Now you buy bananas.'

I could have walked away but I didn't. 'How much?'

'30,000 dong.' I knew the price was over the top (for Vietnam) but I figured I'd been done, so I paid up gracefully. It would have been cheaper to just give her a dollar to take her picture. But then the bananas were quite nice.

No sooner had I completed the transaction when the previous vendor turned up. 'You buy from her. You not buy from me.'

'Tomorrow,' I said and walked off. She followed me for a few blocks but eventually gave up.

This happened the morning after I had arrived in Vietnam. I did a lot of walking that morning without any plan, in no particular direction. Some of the streets had sweeping curves and eventually I lost my sense of direction. I found a fairly major longish street and headed off in the direction I thought would take me back to my hotel. After a while a motorcycle-taxi driver offered me a ride. I took the opportunity not for a ride but to ask directions. I showed him the card I'd been given by my hotel. He pointed in the opposite direction to the one I was heading. I thanked him and headed off.

Five minutes later I had still not found any landmarks I knew. I stood for a while trying to make sense of the little map printed on the back of the hotel's card. I was approached by a little man with a bundle of stamp albums and sleeves of coin collections. He didn't try to speak English or even Vietnamese, just grunted as he shoved them at me. 'No thank you,' I said.

As he walked off I thought I could see that he had a map or two amongst the albums. But he'd gone. I was still standing there trying to get my bearings when he approached me again. Once again he tried me with the stamps and the coins, then he pulled out a map. It was a street map of Hanoi. 'How much?' I asked.

'Six dollar.' He could speak English. Well it was more of a grunt but I could understand.

Six dollars for a map printed on one single sheet. Does this guy think I'm crazy? 'No way! Forget it.' I would rather stay lost than be ripped off.

'Five dollar.'

'No.'

'Four.'

'No.'

'How much you pay?'

What is a fair price for such a map in Vietnam? Can't be much more than a dollar surely. I offered him 20,000 dong.

'25.'

I accepted, paid my money, got my map and found my way home.

A few days later I was in another part of town. I discovered a bookshop and went in for a browse. I was interested to see what they had in English and also if they sold that map. They did. Their price? 7,000 dong.

Labels: Asia, Hanoi, hawker, money, ripoff, travel, Vietnam

the tree-lined streets,














the colonial architecture,














the busy-ness














and the happy smiling faces

Labels: Asia, Hanoi, Vietnam

...well assuming you can afford a fare to Vietnam and still have $A75 in the bank. Catch a plane to Hanoi, go to an ATM and withdraw your $75. Of course you have to withdraw it in Vietnamese Dong. Out of that machine will come a little bundle of portraits of Uncle Ho worth a cool million, a million dong that is.

Labels: Asia, Hanoi, millionaire, money, Vietnam