Cutting Thru the Communist Red Tape

So recently I had occasion to experience the red tape in this country, and, to be frank, it wasn't so bad. 

Above is the view I had for about 1.5 hours, waiting for my number to be called.. but let's start at the beginning.

A few weeks prior to the picture, I submitted paperwork to relevant governmental agencies in order to secure a business license and, more importantly, the right to purchase one of these stamps:

In the U.S., business formalities have moved past the "sign and seal" stage of authenticating signatures.  Back in the day when most people were illiterate, the need to sign and seal documents made sense.  Now, not so much.

U.S. contracts these days may still say "sign and seal" under the signature, but this is merely an anachronism, as it isn't legally necessary.  Even the 'requirement' to notarize signatures are not technically legally necessary - it's just a safe harbor in order to expedite the process if the signature was ever challenged as being authentic.

In Vietnam, and in some parts of Asia, the seal requirement is still paramount. Documents are not legal unless they have a seal - be it from a company, a government agency, or whomever.  Documents are never accepted with simple signatures. Everything has to be original documents.. good luck passing off a photocopy of your documents, unless they've been authenticated with a government seal.

Because of this, when you're hanging out at the international departure terminals in Vietnam, you can locate those locals emigrating elsewhere by their dress (Sunday best, naturally) and by the black Samsonite briefcase that they're clutching.  In it will be all manners of original, signed and sealed documents that cost a fortune, in terms of man-hours, to procure.  My folks still have that black Samsonite filled with yellowed documents in a back closet somewhere.

So here I am, sitting in this government office, to get my own seal.  The place is packed, there is no AC and I'm in a coat and tie.  Um.. not good.

I snatch a number, like at a deli counter, realize my position in the queue, and then head towards the folks mingling at the doorway.  This is Vietnam, there are always alternatives.

After some discussion with a few folks in my limited Vietnamese, I learned that I could outsource the wait on line for between 500-750k, but that I would not be able to get the seal today.  If I personally waited, I would get my seal.  Needing to mail out an "official" document today, I bit the bullet, rolled up my sleeves and waited it out.

The room is, as mentioned, packed.  About a 50/50 mix in terms of sex. Most of the guys are either Korean or Japanese expat business folks.  The majority of the women are young sherpas, guiding these guys through this regulatory process.  I figured I could do it on my own.

And after about two hours, I was right.  There were some missteps along the way - I had to run down the street to get my passport photocopied, then head to the police station to pay 2k VND (that's like 15 cents) to get the photocopy authenticated - but the stern dude, dressed in his pea soup green army uniform, who manned the counter was pretty nice and helpful underneath that fascade.

So it was pretty good, not much different than heading to the DMV or Register of Deeds office in the U.S.

A lot of expats have a fear of the regulatory agencies in Vietnam - so they either hire someone to do this work for them or just straight up avoid it altogether and break the law (like riding around without a license).  I met a German expat recently who told me how relatively painless it was for him to get a motobike license in Vietnam.

The assumption amongst expats that nothing gets done in the government, however big or small, without a bribe attached is pervasive.  But it is certainly not true.  Sure niceties grease the wheels, but the same is true everywhere in the world. 

If you've ever had to personally go and file a deed in the U.S., you'll see the runners from the mortgage and title companies plying treats to the filing clerks, who in turn share this corpulence with the rest of their minions, in order to get better service.

It's just that in Vietnam, foreigners have a more limited skill set with respect to 'being nice' to local folks, government clerks or otherwise.   For some expats, their toolbox starts and ends with money.

Please Dial "3"

This month, the local, which is to say, national, which is to say *only*, landline telephone company, Vietnam Posts and Telecom (VNPT), announced a change in all landline phone numbers.  

In HCMC and Hanoi, all landline numbers now grow from 7 digits to 8 digits.  Plus the two digit city code.  In the outlying provinces that used to have 6 digit numbers, they also grow by one to 7 digits.  While provinces that got recently "upgraded" to 7 digits stay at 7.

For all of HCMC and Hanoi numbers, you now add a leading "3" to the old numbers to create the new 8 digit telephone number.    

A lot of business here, even more than in the US, is conducted via mobile phones.  With no wide acceptance of voicemail, folks carry multiple cell phones.  But still a lot of folks, like us for instance, will be affected by this new landline number change.

And this change is idiotic.  The more reasonable way to go about things is to add an area code "overlay," and not to simply lengthen numbers.  Split HCMC and Hanoi into new area codes, instead of just maintaining one city code.  My hometown has four new overlay area codes since the time of my childhood - and my childhood home number didn't change for 25 years until we sold the joint and moved.  

This new VNPT edict will just create business for the print shops, because now all our business literature - business cards, letterheads, envelopes, marketing materials, etc., etc. - will need to be redone.  Arrgghhh.

And given that short term memory is about 7+/- 2 digits*, as I remember from Psych 101, these new 8-digit phone numbers will start messing with your head.  Mobile numbers in Vietnam are at least 8 digits long, plus at least a two digit mobile provider code.  No one can remember these long assed numbers, that's why people buy and peddle "so dep" - pretty numbers.  One buys a nice and pretty mobile number just to have a number that can be remembered.  

After two years, I've finally been able to memorize my own mobile number!            

* this magical 7+/- 2 standard was put forth in a 1956 paper, since then, and my time in the lecture hall, new research has suggested that we can remember 2 seconds worth of spoken content.  For English speakers, this would be 7 plus or minus 2 digits, depending on how quickly one normally speaks.  For Chinese speakers, the number of digits recallable in short term memory is closer to 10, because the words are shorter.  My impression is that the Vietnamese speak slowly and they'll be closer to the 7+/-2 measure.     

Highlands Rat

This picture made the expat email rounds within the last week - I received it from Mr. Thirsty himself, after he told me about it over some drinks.  Because it seems that he no longer posts on his blog and is consumed by all things Twitter instead, I thought I should throw it up here.

The back story from the emails is that an expat couple went to Highlands Coffee for some cake, and ended up with a surprise.  Some on the email thread was thinking that may be a gecko, but that doesn't look like a gecko to me.  Too bad it's not Mardi Gras, then Highlands could pass it off as a Vietnamese style King Cake - congrats, you've found the hidden prize!

     

Laundry Laments

Was packing recently for a trip back to the States. Made sure to pack
a few small gifts for family, but these days they've had their fill of
made-in-China but sold in Vietnam goods.

I also made sure to pack my dirty laundry.

When we were in Hanoi, we did our own laundry, with a dryer to boot.
Save for the lack of hot water, clothes came out of the Japanese sized
top load washers pretty decently. Anything that didn't come out that
clean could be pretreated for a second go around.

The biggest laundry hassle then was making sure your clean clothes
didn't touch any surface of the dusty balcony - on its transfer from
washer to dryer to laundry basket. It was Hanoi; every exrerior
exposed surface got dusty in mere hours.

Down here, things are a bit different. I have someone do my laundry
every day, as part of my housing arrangement. You would assume I would
appreciate this more. But of course I don't.

Besides doing a bad ironing job, my clothes do not come out clean. I
don't know if it is because they are sloppy, lack of detergent, or
maybe they hang it outside in the dirty air to dry. I've given up
trying to figure it out.

I'm just packing all the laundry I can so I can give them a good
washing at home.

Cantopop Movies

Unless you set up a Slingbox, or buy tons of bootlegged DVDs (I've done neither, unfortunately), living overseas means watching foreign TV.  

The English language channel selection that I get in Saigon is about twice what we had in Hanoi - here I'm getting Cinemax and HBO, as well as the usual culprits, Star, Discover, Nat Geo, ESPN and the African sports channel, Super Sport.

I've supplemented that English mix by watching korean shows on KBS, Chinese movies (mostly in Cantonese w/English subs), and once in a blue moon Vietnamese versions of British gameshows (1 v. 100, Who Wants To Be A Billionaire in VND, etc. etc.)

The fun KBS shows are all 'reality' type of shows. Not survivor style, but more like documentary/Oprah-style shows delving into common folks' daily lives.  There are a few recurring themes of the KBS shows: 

(1) daily economic struggle of the Korean working class - I saw a show about a family that had 6 y/o twins who made their money selling homemade kimbap (Korean style sushi rolls) to morning commuters.  Seemed like a tough life.  The kids had their birthday party on the show.. their parents got them each a pencil case for school.  The kids really liked it.  I remember when a pencil case was a nice gift, but I also remember my nephews getting things like a N64, Gamecube, PS2, Wii, PS3, etc. 

(2) how cross-cultural marriages, mostly between Korean men and foreign brides, function, from the wooing stage to years on.  One show was about how Korean men in various stages of their relationship with Vietnamese foreign brides - the guys were going to a language center to learn the language prior to going overseas, or a married guy was learning to speak better so he could speak to his father-in-law over the phone.  They filmed a phone conversation and typically, and hilariously, the entire limited discussion was about whether each side ate yet!  Another episode was about the foreign brides' families visiting their daughters in Korea.  Frankly, it was a bit amazing to see the diversity of the foreign brides - the Philippines, Mongolia, India, Nepal, Uzbekistan, etc.  Vietnam is a (relatively) large net exporter of brides to Korea - I met a caddy who's sister was happily married there, though her family hadn't physically seen her in about 5 years - but in the last 6 months the Government here temporarily stopped issuing visas for such travel because of shady bride purchasing promoters.  

(3) how young married Korean couples are doing - it would be interviews of newlyweds, to probe their emotions before and after marriage, with the overarching theme being "marriage is a good thing."  Are young kids in Korea putting off marriage that much that TV needs to encourage such couplings?          

But the best thing on the non-English channels has to be the cheese-a-rific Canto-pop movies.  Charlene Choi, Gaile Lok, oh my!  Some Cantonese speakers complain about these silly movies, with their simplistic plot lines and over the top acting, but when one is reading subtitles, simple story lines and exaggerated motions really help one along.  And the pre-Kung Fu Hustle work of Stephen Chow is laugh out loud enjoyable too.  But he's not cutesy enough to link to.  

So ditch the DVDs and check out the foreign language stuff on the tube.     

Iceman Cometh

This is some ice delivered to a Mia Da shop right next to Cho Phu
Nhuan. I failed to get a shot of the ice man sliding the blocks down
the shop floor during the unloading process.

Return to Vietnormalcy

Less than 12 hours after landing, it's back to 'Vietnormalcy.' In time order, the following occurred:

1. immigration/customs: I knew-of-a-friend-of-a-friend who was going to help grease my way through customs. No, I wasn't bringing any incendiary pamphlets in tow with my overweight luggage.

Rather, I was bring in a suitcase of IT equipment to outfit a small office. I wasn't about to sell the equipment, so I don't think I should be taxed on it, but who knows what the customs guy would think and how would I explain it to them. It would be the same as me bringing cash into the country to start a business - I shouldn't (and don't) get taxed on that. So I was (morally) comfortable with trying to slip through. This was my version of FDI (foreign direct investment), as I am adding capital assets to this country.

Bypassing (or at least quickly being processed) by immigration and customs is definitely a Vietnam thing. I got escorted through the diplomatic line and got out of the airport pretty darn quickly.

2. highway accident: so the off-duty customs guys drove me back into town. On the highway back - the Thang Long bridge - we crossed the scene of a deadly accident. Some person was evacuated 20+ meters from their motorbike. Luckily for me, it was dark and I didn't have good visibility out - it's sad but true, I can't bear to look at the bodies on the ground. In the year or so, I'm up to about half a dozen now. And folks wonder why I don't own a motorbike.

3. ripped off by customs: so I got back to town and the customs guy demands payment. I figure we sorta split the difference or something, but nope. Full payment. For every single computer. Normally, you would get credit for at least one computer as personal use or something (I've brought in two, went through legit channels and no tax or duties).

So, basically I'm getting ripped. It's past midnight, there are two guys, I have 150+ kgs of luggage, I'm a bit hung over from the flight and my local contact is fast asleep. God dammit. So I paid up.

Lesson learned - getting reamed by the government is less painful than getting reamed by crooked government employees on the take.

4. pho breakfast: next morning, jet lagged and pissed as heck for getting separated from my VND, I attended a pho breakfast. Not a big deal, but this was with a group of shareholders of a publicly listed company. We were eating at a local joint that is popular with the local business crowd, enjoying their 20k bowls of noodle. I can't imagine going to a NYSE-listed shareholders' breakfast in a local diner or something back in the States. Certain things are a bit different 'round these parts.

Breaking The Social Contract

Being in this region means I watch a lot of news via the BBC, CNN International, and the various satellite broadcasts from neighboring countries (NHK, KBS, CCTV). One of the things that gets more coverage in this region is the transformation of China, particularly the preparations for the Beijing games in 08.
Part and parcel of the ongoing construction in China is the government land grab, and the people's protest against the perceived unfairness of it all. People are rioting against the government takings, and the news is starting to filter out. I guess when I head to Beijing in a few months and see the progress since last summer, some of it will be on the backs of those left behind.

People in the investment world say that Vietnam is like China 10 years ago; similarly, China's social problems will visit this country as well.

A few weeks back I was listening in to a conference where an audience member asked one of the big fund managers about the issue of eminent domain in Vietnam. Shockingly, and a bit embarrassingly, the manager had no clue as to what eminent domain even meant. I guess you don't need to understand the terminology behind Kelo v. Connecticut to follow it's conclusions.

I am as commercial as it gets - that's part of the reason for being in Vietnam right now. But sometimes the progress here is heartbreaking. I'm sitting in a coffee shop in HCMC, having a light lunch of western-priced panini, looking out to the Gucci storefront.

A middle schooler walks by, beyond the plate glass that insulates this culture of tourists, expats and local privilege, from the streets. He has a wide grin, showing off youthful, sun-bleached teeth. He's holding what looks like a deck of cards, and carrying a small satchel - perhaps a bit of reading material, perhaps a small stack of DVDs to pitch. It's the middle of District 1, and he's barefoot. And I question my morality.

The light lunch turns heavy and I am consumed by things other than the texture of the bread. I make an effort to purchase yesterday's USA Today when leaving the coffee shop - it is not exactly StreetWise, but then again I was never partial to that concept.

I force a smirk while reading about the ineptitude that is ND football under Charlie Weis. I leave the paper and walk in to another conference session, trailing two Cubans who I overheard talking about buying into a resort in Danang. I hope to find this well of empathy the next time I walk through Hanoi's night market in the Old Quarter, with its street urchins and the old man who canvasses the crowd by scooting along on his rear, his ineffective legs leading the way.

Big C and Me

A few weeks ago we suffered from poor groceries planning so I had to head to Big C hypermarket for foodstuff on a weekend. Not exactly a recommended activity one finds in a Lonely Planet for ex-pats, if there were such a thing (NewHanoian sorta comes close though).

For most of the people in Big C, the shopping experience is more like a fun weekend activity rather than a chore. People languidly stroll the aisles hand in hand with three of their friends. Entire extended families peruse the wares while leaving their little ones in shopping carts-cum-baby strollers. Instead of typically ambling about interlocked, young women share the duty of carrying the plastic shopping baskets, each responsible for one of the handles. It doesn't really matter that the basket only contains a 12 oz baguette - it's more about maintaining physical intimacy than shouldering the load.

Were these activities taking place in a local park, I would quietly muse about the low key nature of this society. But I'm shopping, so you people are cutting into my weekend time. Buy something or get out of my way, pretty please.

Before finally leaving the bedlam, I score a small moral victory in maintaining order in the checkout queue.

Big C management makes a mistake in not manning their checkout lines more efficiently - they skimp on one of the cheapest inputs for business around here, unskilled labor. They should have baggers, but they don't - penny wise, pound foolish and all that. Because of this, the lines are pretty long. Invariably this leads to folks trying to jump in line.

In such occasions, I remember what my high school track coach taught us - run with wide, sharp elbows. So I strike a pose not unlike Captain Morgan and thereby thwart all but the most fool hardy. An attempt is made by a twentysomething male. I shoot him a dirty look and ask, in English, what the heck it is he is doing. A feeble reply, in Vietnamese, of 'oh, you are waiting on line?' is made before he slinks away. Of course I am on line, and so are the four people behind me. Two young women slowly creep up, pretending to examine the chewing gum packages offered on the endcaps to the checkout lane before sliding into the queue. I was about to yell at them, but the 50ish man behind me beats me to the punch.

Expat or local, the people in line are not suffering any fools this morning. Even though all the bump and grind of this morning resulted in broken sunglasses - I made a mistake of not leaving them on my head but rather placing them in my front pockets - this little victory leaves me partially happy, as I squint into the equatorial sun on the way home with the spoils of the effort.

Work Blues

Nothing much going on here (for me, at least) besides work. Something I've been working on for a long time fell through recently because the other party introduced a functional requirement that completely altered the mechanics of the deal.. after 6 months of negotiations. Nice.. nothing in business is done here until it is signed and sealed, and even then parties have no compunction in coming back the next day to request insertion of additional clauses. I don't get that sort of negotiation style, and it make for very sluggish progress. How does anyone expect to get work done in such a business climate?

I understand why business people here are like this - it's because everyone and their mothers have five things they are juggling at once, and they're willing to come to the brink on five separate deals before evaluating which one to go with. That's just a recipe for deteriorated trust amongst business partners. And lots of frustrations for those who are more forthright.

To knock off negative mojo, I'm going to try and find a ride to a real live golf course around here, and chase a little ball around in this heat. I've walked 18 in the DC summer before, so the Hanoi heat should be somewhat tolerable. Ok, so I wilted by the 14th hole, but still.. too bad we're not in Saigon, where there are courses much, much closer to the central business district.

Saigon Cooling

For an aside, here is the Nikon 2006-2007 Photo Contest International's Grand Prize winner, "Crossing Waves" by Tung Khanh Le. I'm sure Preya is disappointed she didn't grab the grand prize.

We were down in HCMC last week and noticed yet again how much more comfortable it can be there for an expat. One of the biggest adjustment to the region has to be the unbearable heat. It's basically the middle of the summer already, so (hopefully) this is as hot as it gets in Vietnam, and Hanoi in particular.

HCMC is, surprisingly, noticeably cooler than Hanoi. It cools off much more appreciably in the evenings, due in large part the the ocean's ameliorative effects, and during the day, even though the sun is more oppressive, the humidity is slack in comparison to the capital city.

To be sure, it still is hot like heck, so sitting in air conditioned cafes is still the preferred method of spending one's time, the atmosphere is such that when you are required to sit in an outdoor cafe to conduct a business meeting with some locally acclimated individuals, you don't mind *too* much. You still think they're crazy for suggesting an outdoor location, but you don't think them wholly insane.

The other thing we noticed while down in HCMC was how fat some locals are; well, at least relative to Hanoi folks. The fat locals look like my relatives in the States, corpulence through comfort. As in a lot of developing Asia, everywhere in Vietnam you see overfed children; but in HCMC, you can find a number of adult locals with extra capital around their waists. It was odd really, but it made us fit in more easily :)

The English language Vietnamese paper (that would be Viet Nam News) yesterday had an article about using acupuncture to lose weight. The vignette featured a woman who was 165cm and 65kg - that's about 5'4" and 143lbs for the non-imperial set. That's would be a little under normal in the States. Her 18 year old daughter was 80kgs though. By any measure, that's quite a few stones.

What's The Difference Between Me and You

After living here in Hanoi for about half a year, and visiting Saigon for a bit during that time, I've come to the opinion that for most expats, Saigon is the place to be.

Now this is not to rehash the blog war between the north and south of last year - I do not condone those sentiments (mainly 'cause I can't read them), but I understand.

Saigon is so much more like the States in comparison to Hanoi, that adjusting to those living conditions would be markedly easier. The traffic is better. The food is better. The Vietnamese is easier to understand. There is more stuff to buy. More folks speak English.

Because it is a bigger city, because GIs were based there, because most VKs were from there, because of the above, the city has a larger number of foreigners/ex-pats roaming about. That just makes for a softer landing when you're adjusting.

So what's the difference between Saigon and Hanoi? No, not five bank accounts, three ounces and two vehicles. Ultimately, because Saigonese created those Little Saigons all over the world - and not, obviously, Little Hanois - Saigon is much more familiar to expats. And because it is such a bustling commercial hub, the city has incorporated the world into its fabric more readily than Hanoi.

Tight Threads

Because we moved here with all of our essential possessions in checked baggage, our wardrobe is rather limited. Early on, after suffering through futilely line drying our clothes in these damp environs, we broke down and bought an electric dryer.

If you're looking for white goods, TodiMax is the place to shop in Hanoi. Yes, we bought a major appliance in this brief sojourn to Vietnam. The first load of laundry, in all its familiar static-ky warmth, out of the dryer, quickly confirmed that this was the best way for us to spend 6 million VND (or $400 if you're counting at home).

Even with a dryer though, I was still short of dress pants. I brought along only a few suits so I needed fortification. Locals tend to wear the same clothes a few times a week.. I just couldn't do that, in part 'cause I sweat early and often.

So off to the tailors I went, with reminders that HCMC tailors are much better than their northern brethren. I should've heeded the warnings, and booked a flight to Saigon instead.

People here, be they a 50 year old grandmother, a 40 year old xe om driver, or, more appropriately, a 20something lass, wear some tight arsed clothes. Particularly pants. Nearly everyone's thigh looks like a xu xich (nee sausage).

With all the squatting on little plastic stools, the wrangling over motos, the incessant heat, one would figure a looser cut is preferred. Nope, and I dunno why.

Long story short, I paid a healthy sum for some pants that illustrate the difference between local tastes and my own. Sucks to be me, but at least my boys can breathe. Anyone want some pants?

Daily Read

Being in Vietnam has made me read a lot more than I used to. After all, there is hardly any decent tv on (about 6 channels of English language tv - mainly Star World stuff, CNN World, Discovery and ESPN - they killed off our feed of Bloomberg for another channel of CCTV!).

We haven't really done the whole pirated DVD scene, 'cause the crappy copies don't play so well on our computers. We've been to Megastar Cinema probably once a week since being here - this week is out though, as the new film opening is Cedric the Entertainer's cop flick. No thanks.

So what am I reading? Not books, for one thing. Mainly news accounts, such as this NYT piece about the Korematsu kids defending against the current day legal internment policies of the US government. While I've always heard that Justice Douglas "regretted" his decision in Korematsu, this interview transcript goes into more detail about his regret.

Super Vina Bowl

I watched the Bears-Colts game this morning via a NFL network feed on ESPN-HK. There are few cultural touchstones like the Superbowl, but I was watching it more for the game and not the hype enveloping the event.

This weekend, in my discovery treks across this city, I went looking for a sports bar to watch the game in. Nothing like some brews at 6am. The restaurant near the US Embassy did not seem to recognize that there was a game this morning.

The employees at an ex-pat sports bar didn't know what I meant by either Superbowl or 'bong da my' (American Football, as opposed to, you know, the Mia Hamm type of footballing ;). The ex-pat community that bar catered to were of the Asian variety, and not the North American variety, so that may excuse it a bit.

Overall, the game was pretty good, though it did not seem like a Super Bowl; no build up throughout the day, not to mention the past week; no expensive attempts at creative commercials, just endless English Premiership adverts; no saccharine summaries by Jim Nantz when things were said and done (announcers were Sterling Sharpe, who did a good job, even if he thought that the Bears were "on the edge of a cliff" for half the game, and some other NFL network dude who's better than Nantz).

All in all, it was a good way to kick off a Monday morning. Now I gotta figure out if March Madness will be on the tube here. No soccer for me (unless it's the WC).

One Week In

It's been about one week in on our grand Vina adventure. We stopped over for a few days in HCMC (our first time) before heading to Hanoi. Our HCMC hotel wasn't five bucks as I said in an earlier post - there are too many zeros when calculating VND currency, I misplaced one - but rather, fifty bucks. Pretty nice place, and I would stay there again; minibar beer was like $2, but we didn't have any.

So what are some initial impressions?

• United Airlines doesn't use skycaps when going internationally, so no tip for you;
• a 50lb baggage limit is woefully inadequate when one is moving clear across the world; overweight baggage fees are still lower than air freight shipping, however;
• a 15 hour flight without in-seat video monitors is ridiculous for 1997, not to mention 2007 - no wonder UA is having financial issues;
• without fail, the entire plane is quiet except for the row directly behind us; child under five? Check. Kicking your seat? Check. Loud conversation? Check. Pesky father who at every opportunity attempts to double up on the items ladled out by the flight staff? Check. All that noise in Vietnamese? Priceless.
  
• HCMC just seemed a bit bigger than HAN, without the geographical interest;
• Vietnam Airlines' baggage limits are even lower, at 20kg (44 lbs for those not metrically inclined), but the overage fees were really reasonable, something like $5 for 10kgs;
• it's nice and temperate this time of year in HAN; the locals were moto'ing around in wool caps and scarfs, we were walking around peeled down to polo shirts. A few days later, we were glad we brought some light sweaters. Hmm.. turning local already?
• the toilets have two flush buttons, one for a full flush and one for a half flush; a good compromise between conservation and effectiveness, a better balance than those 1.7gal toilets mandated in new Stateside construction;
• the toilet paper is roughly 75% as wide;
• the serving sizes are appropriate, which is to say they are small; maybe I just like the food here or something, but I haven't left things on the plate like I usually do; the serving sizes might explain the toilet paper issue;
• Went to MegaStar Cinema - I could get used to being ushered to assigned seating in a movie theatre - after all, it is a theatre;
• I didn't notice the air pollution this past summer, but after a few days walking around, I'm breathing heavily through congested lungs; the city provides a electronically updated air quality billboard at a major intersection we pass by almost daily - so far, it's only displayed big green smiley emoticons for good air quality. Uh-oh.
  
• found the Lang Ha golf driving range; it looked like something out of Van Cortland park in the Bronx, which is to say bare, ugly and grotty. Rates were like the DC area, unfortunately. I'm sure there are nicer joints in town;

We met some new acquaintances who gave us advice about working and living here, and they noted with admiration how calm we were about the whole thing. I hope our calmness is predicated on an open, easy going attitude, and not naviete. We'll see, I guess.

As the Days Dwindle

Wow, what a great day of football. VA was even encouraging me to watch, a rarity. Two black coaches representing the nice guy clique in professional sports. The sports media are gonna go hysterical with proclaiming this historic, but it's just a cool thing. Now, will someone give Norm Chow a head coaching gig?

It's only a coupla days till the flight, so we're buttoning things up here. VA's last day at work was on Friday, and she was emotional about it, 'cause she's a rare gem who actually really enjoys what she does. I hope to be that lucky one of these days. Or maybe she hates her job but just doesn't wanna go to VN.

We threw a 'see ya in a coupla years' party the other day and a whole host of friends who came on by were playing around with the notion of visiting us. C'mon down, we'll start up a B-n-B just for ya. I promise to have more food than last night. (sorry about the lack of food dudes).

And it finally snowed here, first snow this winter. DC is considered the South, but it is supposed to snow once in a while. While melting snowcaps are better indicators of environmental change than warm winters, the average person is more experiential than scientific in their outlook. A couple more of these indian winters and those El Nino explanations will not be enough.

Lastly, we nailed down details for our short sojourn in SGN before heading up north. The Company will pay for the hotel. It'll be 70,000VND. $5 bucks. Living high on the hog, courtesy of the expense account. This is the ngot life.

Best. Game. Ever.

2007 Fiesta Bowl: Boise State - Oklahoma. Too bad I didn't catch it live on the tube, but I gather this is how I'll experience American sports for the next two years.



The Superbowl is on Feb. 4, 2007. I wonder if there will be local broadcasts of it; if not, I'll resort to solutions like SOPcast and this Streaming NFL Games guide.

Movin' on up: from the suburbs to the third world

So we're headed from a place that looks like the above to a developing country. The term "third world" is a bit anachronistic, but makes for a nice headline and follows the thoughts of this post: "How to Write Great Headlines."

Anyhow, the fact that my arse is headed to VN is not wholly interesting. After all, if rock stars (see Gates, Bill), baby shoppers and a Connecticut cowboy who was impolite to my Senator-elect have stomped around the joint, it’s not exactly a novel place to be.

(Bill Gates vs. Betel Nut, via Elmoooh’s)

Still, as a temporary visitor who wants to make it there, and not just to bum around and wear a Dạy-cho-Bia t-shirt as a fashion statement without irony, the move is a tad novel. This LA Weekly article,"Santa Monica or Saigon?", highlighted to me by Terry of VKLJ.net, describes another person’s experience with it all.

Being a VK, one invariably deals with the prickly issue of going to a place that you and your parents escaped merely a generation ago. More than that, however, is the issue of moving from what once was your goal in life.

I was not a black kid, growing up in Bed-Sty as the characters in "Everybody Hates Chris," but, as Chris Rock would say, “I understand.” That show is funny and poignant because that’s almost my childhood. Never in my wildest dream as a kid did I imagine living in the ‘burbs with one’s very own lawn to mow. Maybe that’s why I don’t complain about lawn maintenance as much as VA does.

How cool is it to not share a wall with your neighbor, to have rooms you do not use, to always have a parking space when you come home, and to have that proverbial (free range) chicken in your pot? Being middle-class was the brass ring. And now I’m leaving the country paved with gold for the developing world. How crazy is that? Crazy like a fox, I hope.

The Cockroach

Some folks have expressed admiration that VA has volunteered to return to VN after the 'roach incident on our first night there. What can I say, she's a tough lady.

Here's a look at the size of the thing. That's a US quarter next to it, and it was alive at the time of the picture. They're kinda big, eh? Must be the carbs.