The Grand Opening

A Vietnamese-American friend told me recently how much the Vietnamese hate having their country regarded as Third World, an emerging market, or a developing economy. They are a proud people with an impressive culture and a history of upsetting expectations. The Chinese, the French, and the Americans have all been beaten here, and now it's economic warfare in a global economy.

It's an exciting place to be these days, but the truth is that Vietnam is a Third World country. In 1994 much of the population was starving and the economy was in the tank. It was at that moment that the Socialist Republic of Vietnam decided to take the pragmatic step of subordinating ideology to experiment with a market driven economy. It was a good decision for the people who energetically have worked their way back to prosperity (of sorts).

But, the new economy, like those in other Third World countries, is not benefiting everyone. There are the have's and the have-not's, the nouveau riche and the homeless, and an emerging middle class.

Last night, we were invited to the Grand Opening of the Hard Rock Cafe in Saigon. The event said a lot about the new Vietnam. The venue, in the equally new Intercontinental Hotel, is beautifully done - well designed and appointed with all the bells and whistles. But the Hard Rock Cafe is a tired brand where the clientèle worldwide is more about T-shirts than celebrities and glam. I remember the Hard Rock in London in the '80's, but in 2010 I have a hard time with the $15 burger. Nevertheless, for the moment, it works here where nouveau riche is not part of the vocabulary and understatement is not in style.

The inexperienced management, drawn from a local coffee company, put on a terrific event though the stress in the days leading up to it was tangible and not very attractive. Running a coffee business and opening an upscale internationally branded nightspot require different skills. Just because you're young and know something about the musical tastes of your target audience does not mean you know how to work with the corporate management of an international brand or have the diplomatic skills to deal with vendors, entertainers, wait staff, government regulation, media, publicity, and public relations. The PR guy is in way over his head and the GM is a good guy and a good manager but doesn't have the right support at the moment.

Still, as I said, the grand opening was a well attended high profile Hollywood preview-style extravaganza complete with red-carpet, beautiful models, young and old hipsters, corporate execs and diplomats. The food and drink was delicious and in abundance. There was never a moment when someone wasn't offering you something. After the red carpet preview on the mall outside, the vetted and invited crowd was ushered down into the cafe where the entertainment took over. There was a 1980's US cover band called the American Hitmen, a sensational Vietnamese rocker named Kasim(the best thing on the bill) and American hip-hopper Run DMC, specially imported for the GO.

There is a new no smoking law in Vietnam, but "public places" has not been defined, so restaurants and bars continue to allow it, and I woke up this morning with a scratchy cough and clothes that smelled like an ashtray. I think I'm too old for the hardcore nightclub scene. Maybe next year when "public places" has been expanded to include the Hard Rock.

Vietnam will not be a Third World country for long, but the presence of a Hard Rock Cafe won't be the reason. We'll see where both of them are in 10 years. I'm betting on Vietnam.

All News is Local

Headlines in today's Vietnam News, the local English language newspaper:

WILD ELEPHANTS HAVE DESTROYED MANY HOUSES AND CROPS

TOAD EGGS DEADLY FOR CHILDREN (Story on page 4)

ONE HORNED RHINOS ON VERGE OF EXTINCTION (Story on page 6)

FOUR JAILED FOR TRYING TO OVERTHROW THE STATE (Page 1)

I had no idea toad eggs were deadly, so that was good information. The article went on to say that not only were the eggs deadly but that "toad flesh does not contain many highly nutritious elements that are good for children." I didn't know that either. Without treatment both toad elements "could lead to death." Well, it wasn't on my diet anyway.

Living in Saigon it is also easy to lose sight of the fact that there are still elephants, rhinos, and tigers out and about in the countryside. I just finished a Vietnam war novel by Karl Marlantes in which a Marine at a forward listening post is carried off in the night and eaten by a tiger. Personally, I think crossing the street in Saigon is dangerous, so I'm going to ignore the tiger menace, let the kids deal with the toad eggs and give myself over to focusing on traffic safety.

Everybody Knows About You

Sometimes you think you know how things work. Sometimes you do. But, sometimes you really don't.

We live in a fairly nice apartment. The view, as you can see, is not scenic but we have a maid and 24 hour security. We have a one year lease on a 2 bedroom flat. Occasionally, we have an overnight guest and twice we have let friends or co-workers stay in the second bedroom when we were away. No problem normally, but we didn't understand how things really work until we returned after Christmas and "heard" that there was a big flap about some of our guests. In fact, it turns out that 3 of them, traveling together were turned away. But to this day the only people who have talked to us are the rejected guests. To be fair, there is a law that says guests need to be registered with the police. Depending on where you are in Europe or Asia you may have to surrender your passport when you check into a hotel. We have all come to accept that. In Vietnam it extends one rung lower and individuals have to register guests staying in their homes. Practically speaking it doesn't happen if it's a one or two night gig, but they are serious about longer stays.

Here's the way it generally works: the tenant is obligated to notify the security guy, who is obligated to notify the landlord, who is obligated to notify the police. Not only that, there are "watchers" in the neighborhood who inform when someone, like our landlord, doesn't comply. It's a kind of coconut telegraph. Word gets around.

But, there's more. Saigon looks like a happening place - lots of bars, lots of bar girls, busy streets any hour of the day or night. But, the truth is it's a sleepy little place with 8 million residents where you're supposed to be in bed by 11pm. Yep, that's right, 11pm and some apartments and houses lock the door and won't let ANYONE in or out after that, not even the people who live there. It sounds crazy, but our gorgeous French-Mexican neighbor told us that her first apartment here was just like that and she got locked out more than once. I can understand that the security guys aren't crazy about getting up at 3am to let our little French fox in or to let us out at 4 because all the flights to the US leave at 6. Still, it is their job isn't it? And, we're paying the rent and them, right? Well, apparently not totally right. They squeal to the landlord and we hear about it.

And though you could argue that it's a safety issue guarding the old homestead, it's not just at home that there are extra eyes. On Monday, we had an office visit from one of the local security police (the guys in the bilious green uni's). He said "different" people than normal had been seen coming and going from our office. He wanted to know about them, and he wanted to know why our office assistant left and who we were interviewing for the job. This is totally weird and off-putting. I lived in Berlin before the wall came down, but the Stasi were on the other side of the wall. Now they're in our courtyard and somewhere on the street where we live. This is an amazing country. We love it, but sometimes we have to suspend our disbelief and focus on how great it really is to be here, watch it grow, and follow the law no matter how strange it seems to us.

Why We Travel

"We travel, initially, to lose ourselves; and we travel, next, to find ourselves. We travel to open our hearts and eyes and learn more about the world than our newspapers will accommodate. We travel to bring what little we can, in our ignorance and knowledge, to those parts of the globe whose riches are differently dispersed. And we travel, in essence, to become young fools again - to slow time down and get taken in, and fall in love once more. The beauty of this whole process was best described, perhaps, before people even took to frequent flying, by George Santayana in his lapidary essay "The Philosophy of Travel." We "need sometimes," the Harvard philosopher wrote, "to escape into open solitudes, into aimlessness, into the moral holiday of running some pure hazard, in order to sharpen the edge of life, to taste hardship, and to be compelled to work desperately for a moment at no matter what."

Pico Iyer: Why We Travel from Salon Travel 2001

Sunday in Saigon

I like Sunday because it’s an unscheduled day that unfolds in interesting ways if I just get out of the way and let it flow. This is particularly true in Saigon where Marilynn and I have learned to let the day find its own rhythm. We usually sleep in, which for us means 6:30 or 7, since we're normally up at 5. During the week I make a beeline for the kitchen to grab a banana and some creamy yogurt and then it's a step by step routine till we're out the door to the gym. But, Sundays are different.

On Sunday I slow down enough to feel the cool tile floors under my bare feet and the warm soft air coming in off the street. The cool, smooth tile is very sensual. There is no wall to wall carpet in the tropics, and one takes off shoes to enter every house. For people from temperate climates Vietnam seems very exotic. Even the fruit on the dining room table is exotic. Oranges are not orange but dark, dark green. And they are full of seeds but juicy sweet. I squeeze my own orange juice every morning and probably throw 100 seeds in the trash when I'm through. And, the tiny finger-sized bananas in the fruit bowl are mixed with miniature tangerines, pomelo, star, and dragon fruit. We each have some fruit and a cup of yoghurt before we head out for the Cathedral of Notre Dame at the top of Dong Khoi Street.

There is an English mass at 9:30, but we love to spend the hour before the service nursing a tall latte on the terrace of the Coffee Bean and watching the people and the motorbikes spin through the square.

My favorite occupation, however, is to check out the brides in the square around the church. They come to be photographed. There are other places in Saigon that draw them too, like the Opera House and the Hotel de Ville, but the garden and promenade in front of Notre Dame is their favorite site. The groom is usually around, but he's a minor player. It's the bride's moment. They are all beautiful and the dresses are luscious - acres of creamy peau de soie. And the photographers pose them in every conceivable way - leaning against the cathedral with the long train spread across the sidewalk, framed by a plot of colorful flowers, or my favorite, lounging langorously on the seat of the groom's flame red motorbike with the train spilling into the street. It's a real feast for the eyes as well as one's sense of humor. I don't know where the weddings themselves take place, but Notre Dame is the clear favorite for photo ops.

It's very addictive; every bride is different and the viewing always includes the unexpected. I'd love to see the motorbike bride again, but there will be something new this Sunday and I'll be there to see it.

Christmas Came Late...

Back in Saigon after six weeks away -

It feels so good. Not that it wasn't fun to see family and friends in the US; but it was cold, wet, and hectic for the entire time. I made three trips to the Bay Area on business and we stopped in LA for a night on the way back to Vietnam.

Christmas was a minimalist event for us - the Vietnam adventure was our gift to ourselves. It isn't inexpensive setting up a second household but more than that we have had so much fun exploring, tasting, smelling, walking, talking, and getting massaged that it didn't seem like we needed to do more for ourselves on the holiday.

But, 18 hours in the air is not something we ever look forward to. Maybe the next iPhone app will be a teletransporter that magically zips us across the ocean. I'd download that one in a heartbeat. But, alas, the app is not here yet so we made an airline reservation in October for a January 1 departure. The fare was a bargain because Northwest is trying to break into the market, and in spite of the bozo who tried to blow up the airplane on Christmas Day, the check in and security in Seattle and LA was relatively painless.

It was a breeze until we discovered that we were seated in different rows. How can this be? We buy the tickets in one transaction three months before the flight and they can't find two seats together on a 350 seat 747? Give me a break. On top of that the two seats they do assign are in the last two rows of the airplane. When we reached the gate I explained the problem and my disbelief to a very sober-faced agent who asked for our boarding passes and promised to "see what (she) could do" around boarding time.

As the other agent began the boarding process, she finally called us over and handed me the boarding passes. At least we had two seats together. I didn't even look to see where they were until we were standing in line to get on.

Wow! Wowser! The sober-faced agent, whom I was beginning to see as a ball-breaking Big Nurse, had delivered Business Class seats to us for both legs of the trip - LAX to Tokyo and Tokyo to Saigon. This is not possible is it? Did this really happen? We were afraid to ask, but when they closed the door we were still in the first row of Business Class with glasses of champagne in our hands. It was miracle. It felt like we had won the lottery. We sometimes fantasize about upgrading to Business on one of our trips, but for the number of points it takes to do it we can have two round trips to Europe.

In the interest of full disclosure I have to tell you that I used to fly First Class across the Atlantic all the time. I was spoiled and blessed, and as a Pan Am employee it didn't cost me a cent. Times change, and though I am still spoiled and blessed I know it and appreciate the gift when it's given.

Thank you Northwest Airlines sober-faced lady gate agent. We loved the flight, the service, the food, the seats, and the generosity and we're glad to be back in Saigon a little less beaten down than normal.