Wednesday 27 September – Saigon
The last full day. It’s here.
One month ago today, I was watching the boy play in a football final, in what was my last full day in Melbourne, before this little adventure was about to begin.
And now, this morning, I’m struggling to think about anything other than what happens tomorrow.
I hate that I do that.
Out of bed at 7.30am, and managing to avert my thoughts back to the day at hand, the good news is that I actually feel okay. Well, better than yesterday.
Get organised, including sorting out our laundry, and then head outside just after 8.00am.
Over to, and down, Diagonal Street, and then turn right up the main-ish road to our laundry place.
A guy on a bike pulls up before us, and begins chatting to the girl we spoke to the other day.
He hears what he wants to hear, then promptly throws the trousers he was holding onto the floor, at the feet of the young girl.
The look on her face said it all, and I could blame her not one little bit.
So rude. So entitled. And just so unnecessary.
Disgraceful behaviour.
Rude guy heads off, and I set about trying to improve her day, simply by actually handing our laundry to her, the way it should always be done.
She smiles, and she heads off to weigh it.
Four kilograms, and at 12 000 Dong per kilo, 50 000 Dong, and be ready at 5.00pm.
No problem! And thank you!
“Name?”
“Scott”.
She has a puzzled look on her face, which is probably the same look I have when a Vietnamese person tells me their name, and I try to picture in mind how it’s actually spelt.
Her brain ticks over, and she begins spelling it out; “S. C. O. T. T?”
“Yes!”
She’s lovely, and again, just didn’t, and would never, deserve the behaviour from her previous customer.
Back down to our café, and as we get there, the Vietnamese American guy, who is sitting in his usual spot out the front, but this time with the café owner, says with a smile, “The usual?”
“Yes please”, is the, not surprising to anyone, response.
We sit and savour, and just take it all in, while listening to the same type of 60’s songs that were being played the other day.
It’s nice, and it kind of feels apt, but at the same time, it’s not really making things easier for what comes tomorrow.
Some things remain the same.
Coffees done, a quick toilet stop back at the room, and then out again to set about our day.
Nothing much in the way of plans, apart from maybe a market, as well as soaking up some of the Saigon life that we’ve come to love and enjoy so much, which is its hems.
Down past our café again, and off in the direction of Tung’s place, but purposely neglecting to tell Lisa where we’re actually going.
Through the hems, and then out again at the next main road, my retrieving of memories from almost a month ago, going as well as can be expected, so far.
Back into the hems on the other side, and yep, kind of looks familiar.
Around a corner, and as we walk past a local looking guy, he asks us where we’re from.
It’s certainly not an unusual question, and it’s one that we’ve been often asked, especially when we’ve had the opportunity to ‘practice English’. But this time it throws me a little, and again, it’s not the actual question, but more how it’s actually asked.
It’s in absolutely perfect English, which, because of where we are, I just wasn’t expecting.
We stop and chat for a bit, and the reason his English is so good, is because he actually lives, and has spent a fair amount of time doing so, living in the US; Texas, to be exact.
He’s a really nice guy, and he explains that he’s just come back for a week or two to visit his parents, who still live here.
Our walk continues, and arriving at the next main road, I have more confirmation that we’re heading in the right direction, when the market on the other side, comes into view.
We head down, and still being relatively early, there’s plenty of people, and produce, about.
Seafood, various meats, including lots of chicken, fruits and vegetables, flowers, and pretty much anything else you can think of.
I loved it the very first time we saw it, which was six years ago, and six years later, I still have exactly the same opinion.
We walk the length of it, then cross the next main road, before disappearing down a new set of hems, which are same hems that we stayed in when we spent a few nights with Tung in 2017.
I resist the urge to ask Lisa if anything looks familiar, and instead wait to see if she can work it out for herself.
Past the actual street we stayed in; still no recognition forthcoming; and then around the corner and past the little family run convenience store where I bought my take away beers from, way back then.
Onto the large-ish seafood restaurant, and then back in the general direction we’ve just come from.
We again reach the street we stayed in, and all of a sudden I hear a knowing, “Oh!”, come from the intrepid one.
While I’m a little surprised, I’m also rather proud that she was actually taking enough notice of her surroundings, to be able to work it out.
We walk the block, and then head back across to the market, but this time veer off down the side hems, managing to find the clothing section.
Again, there’s just so much stuff here, and not being in a tourist area, it’s all just so authentic and genuine.
Passing a woman selling hand held fans, and with Lisa realising that she’d bought one too few when the ‘bulk’ purchase was made in Hanoi, we take the opportunity to rectify that little mistake, by handing over 15 000 Dong, with absolutely no haggling required, because of where we are.
A bit more wandering of the market, but done in a way that means we’re heading back in the general direction of the Le Blanc, but this time using different hems.
That can often lead to getting lost, which is far from a problem, seeing as you usually end up coming across good stuff when you realise you don’t know where you are. My problem now, however, is that my understanding, or at least belief, of the rough layout of the streets in this area is pretty good, and it means we actually get back with not even so much as a quick glance at Google Maps.
In some ways, it’s actually a little disappointing….
Upstairs for a very quick, and very much needed, toilet stop; really need to do some research on public toilets in Saigon; and then back down for a brief chat with the young girl at the desk, which includes finally finding out her name.
It’s Chau, pronounced as in xin chao, and not knowing it before now is something that I’m a little embarrassed about.
To be fair though, when we first met her last year, she didn’t seem to have a lot of English, and as such, seemed to be a little reluctant to converse.
But this year, both a month ago and now having returned, she seems much keener to chat, and it’s nice to now finally have a name.
She’s lovely, always with a smile when we’re coming and going, and more than happy to help out with any questions or issues we might have.
Back outside, and back into the heat, and with a rather strong desire to find a cold drink, we head into ‘our’ hems, to see if we can find any other options, just to mix it up, other than our juice lady the other day.
We stumble across a small family run café in one of the narrower hems, and when the incredibly friendly owner sees our interest, she’s quick to welcome us and organise a couple of seats out the front.
We soon have two cà phê sữa đá’s (20 000 Dong each), as well as a couple of teas in front of us.
The cà phê sữa đá’s are okay, but unfortunately far from the best we’ve had, with them being a little both bitter and weak, while the tea is really good.
It’s not your typical trà đá, with it instead being a type of lemongrass tea, which I don’t believe we’ve ever had before.
It’s good, and while I probably wouldn’t want to drink it all the time, it’s nice for a change.
We sit and watch the world, which is a little limited, given the narrowness of the hem, and just generally cool down and relax after this morning’s walk.
Coffees almost done, but the considering of making a move is put on hold when it begins to rain.
It’s a wise move, as that steady rain quickly becomes very heavy rain, to the point that the lady’s husband ushers us inside for better shelter.
We sit and wait it out, before giving a much appreciated cảm ơn to our incredibly friendly hosts, and making a run for it, as the rain begins to ease.
They were lovely, and I’d love to go back to them, but if we do, it’s unlikely, unfortunately, that it would be for a cà phê sữa đá.
Back to the Le Blanc just after 12.00pm for a rest and recovery session, as well as to dry off a little.
A little arranging of things in anticipation of tomorrow, as well as a re-checking of flight times, which results in the discovery of not just a six hour layover in Singapore, but also of a departing time from Singapore of 2.30am.
No, nothing has changed, it’s exactly what I booked.
I’m just struggling to understand how I thought that was a good idea when I actually booked it…..
Rude awakening administered, we head back out, after another shower of rain, around 2.00pm to do something about lunch.
Bánh mì is the preferred option, and bánh mì it is, at our usual place around the corner from Diagonal Street.
We walk the hems while eating, before making our way back in the general direction of Nga’s for some sort of juice.
A young girl walks past us, and then manages to turn at every hem we need to, to reach Nga.
She keeps looking behind her, and at us, and it doesn’t take long before I realise she’s now of the belief that we’re following her.
We kind of are, but only because she keeps turning down hems that we need to, to achieve our goal.
I start to feel bad, especially when Lisa too mentions what I believe I’m seeing or noticing, and while I do consider turning off, I’m worried if we bump into her again coming the other way, it might make things even more awkward.
We slow down a little, to give her extra space, but sure enough, she turns down the next hem that we need to.
She really couldn’t be doing this any better….
We head down, and she turns left at the first hem, which is good, as we don’t need to go that way.
But as we walk past, she’s standing a bit further up it, looking back in our direction.
It confirms what I had been thinking, which is that we were making her feel uncomfortable, and perhaps even threatened, and I feel really bad about that.
To be fair, she was the one who walked past us, but if I ever sense that again, I think we’ll probably change our route. Or maybe just simply stop, and let the person move away.
We get to Nga’s, the usual crowd is there, and they make a bit of a fuss when they see us. I love that we are of such interest.
Seats taken, two passionfruit juices ordered, and we sit and simply just take it all, while utilising Google Translate to talk to Nga.
She’s a little annoyed today at her neighbour opposite, who is washing down the front of his house with a hose. He’s not only making a fair bit of noise, but it’s also resulting in water splashing in the direction of her customers, and she’s worried about what we all think.
I reassure her, that while he is being a little inconsiderate, it’s actually not bothering us at all. In fact, I’m quite enjoying watching him do it, and appreciating the cooling effects it is bringing to the hem.
More chatting, more watching, the coming together as Face Book friends, and while sitting there, the discovery is made that our dumpling noodle soup guy, actually lives across the hem from Nga, as he walks past and gives us a big smile and a wave.
I love it, and I love how this little community is connected.
The washing guy finally finishes, just before we do, and we head off with the promise to come back tomorrow and do it all again, before we leave. It will one of those dreaded goodbyes, but I’d prefer to put it off, rather than do it now.
A bit more walking of the hems, and then back to the Le Blanc to cool down and wash my feet, as well as change my footwear, in anticipation of, hopefully, seeing my shoe cleaner guy up at the beer place.
I make my way up, dropping in to the laundry place to make sure it’s okay if I come back at 6 o’clock, which it is.
Across Dien Bien Phu; it’s all becoming very real now that we’re down to less than 24 hours; and I get the feeling they’ve been waiting for me.
Seat taken outside, beer appears, and not even halfway through that first one, my shoe cleaner guy turns up.
He kind of makes a half hearted attempt at offering his services, but it’s actually me who pushes the subject.
He clearly wasn’t expecting a job out of me, so he’s very happy, and I quickly have a loan pair of ill-fitting blue sandal things, while he deals with my Keens over near the gutter.
His care and attention to detail is impressive.
Within 15 minutes, I have them back, looking pretty much like the first day I ever wore them.
There was no response earlier when I asked him how much, so I hand him what I paid him last year, which is 50 000 Dong, and quite possibly a little over the odds.
But it doesn’t matter, as I got what I required, along with the interactions with him, not just this year, but also last year, that actually mean more than the now cleaned Keens.
Cảm ơn given, and I use Google Translate to tell him we leave tomorrow. Again, probably not that important, but at the same time, and after seeing his reaction the last couple of days, I just feel the need to let him know that he won’t see me again tomorrow, should he swing past.
He heads off, and I return to the usual sights of the world in front of me. The rubbish guys; they always have, and continue to blow me away with their work ethic; the little old lady from yesterday, again helped across the road, but this time by a random stranger, the lotto ticket seller, hunched over to the point that I really don’t understand how she still gets around. I buy a couple of tickets, and return one to her.
I feel okay, health wise, but it’s the whole inevitability of what awaits tomorrow, that I’m really struggling with.
I hate it, but I hate more that I keep thinking this way. I keep, essentially, feeling sorry for myself, rather than thinking about how lucky I am that I’ve actually got to do the things we’ve done, and seen. And the fact that we will get another opportunity to do it again.
Which then gets my over working brain thinking about the people we’ve come across over the journey, including the ones that I’m observing right now, while merely sitting here on a footpath with a beer in my hand.
A fair percentage of these people quite possibly haven’t seen much more of their own country, than this very city.
It puts things into perspective, and just reinforces both how lucky we are, as well as how much of a sufferer of ‘first world problems’, I am, when it comes to me feeling so depressed about having to merely return home.
I really have so much to be grateful for, and I need to stop focusing on, what essentially is, a very minor and insignificant thing.
Yep, perspective…..
I make a promise to be better, but know that I will struggle with it, and return to the moment that I’m in.
My barber turns up with his mate from the other day, but I get no acknowledgement, as they take a seat nearby.
Beers arrive, and then a plate of ‘food’, which used to actually be the things that several chickens used to walk around on.
While I’ve had chicken feet / back scratchers before, I have always, and still continue, fail to understand the appeal.
My face, unbeknownst to me, must have clearly shown my indifference, as when the young Cambodian girl looked across at me, she let out a laugh. The follow up screwing up of her nose, however, confirmed she too had a similar opinion to me on the ‘delicacy’.
The time arrives to make a move, as much as I don’t want, so the bill is fixed. A couple of the staff seeing me leaving, make to do the ‘goodbye’ now.
“No, No, back later!”, I exclaim, wanting to put it off for as long as I can, which is then followed up with a hurried, ‘hẹn gặp lại’, just to make sure they understand.
They do, and crisis is averted.
Back down to my take away guy, for what is no doubt the last time, and when he sees me, asks, “Sáu?” (six).
I shake my head with a smile, and say, “No, năm” (five).
Beers organised and delivered, I use Google Translate to let him know that tonight is the last one. He shakes my hand, and acknowledges.
I’m going to miss him.
Down to the laundry place, and with the girl not there, it’s left to the older guy, who I think is her father.
He has a slightly worried look on his face when I approach, but then sets about looking for what is quite possibly the only bag of clean clothes he has inside, with a western name written on it.
It takes him a minute, but comes good, and the 50 000 Dong charge is handed over.
Back to the room for a shower and to get ready, before heading back outside just after 7.00pm.
Dinner is the goal, with that dinner ticking off another on our ‘to do’ list.
Yep, dumpling noodle soup again, as it probably was always going to be, after the other night, and perhaps even after having it again a month ago.
We reach them, they find us a table, and dinner quickly arrives. The question of beer is asked, and the mother, or maybe mother in law, is tasked with retrieving those beers from the convenience store around the corner.
Again, love how stuff works here.
It ends up being Tiger beer, which is slightly disappointing, but the food more than makes up for it. It is seriously good, and that broth is sublime.
I don’t often rave about food, but this is up there in the best food we’ve had here.
Food done, bill of 140 000 Dong paid (likely 2 x 50 000 and 2 x 20 000), and we head up to the beer place for the final time.
As they always do, they see us coming, and they can’t sort us out with a table out the front, quick enough.
It’s probably reached a point where it’s a little embarrassing, but I do love the fact that they make the effort.
The usual, and never ending, sights in front of us, along with some familiar faces; the rubbish guys of course, the guy with the mobile kitchen, along with all his eggs, which are, apparently, balut, towed behind his bike.
And then our rice cracker lady, hoping for a sale, but with us fast running out of time to actually eat them, I don’t really want to potentially waste them.
But the look on her face, along with her smile, is making it extremely difficult to decline her offer.
I end up giving in, but only on the proviso I can have a photo with her. She’s a bit surprised at the request, wondering why I would want that, but agrees with an even bigger smile.
My rice cracker lady.
A little after 9.00pm, they start the packing up process, which I’d been dreading.
Final beer had, it’s time.
Photo request accepted by the staff, along with handshakes and a couple of hugs. And yep, it’s hard.
Just a few of the people who looked after me so well.
I’m not sure, in fact, I know, they don’t fully understand what they, and this place, means to me. But I do hope they have at least a bit of an idea.
From that initial awkwardness when I first walked in a little over 12 months ago, to how, not just I, but we, are now received.
It’s been a memorable little journey, and one I could never have envisaged on that very first day.
And to think, it would never have happened, had our original choice in accommodation not pulled out of their end of the bargain, a day before we flew out of Melbourne.
Yep, amazing where you sometimes end up…..
We head off down the street, dropping in to see my take away guy, but this time just for a Coke (10 000 Dong).
It’s nice to interact with him again, but it does cause another goodbye.
Down past our dumpling soup couple, and the wife gives us a wave and a smile as we approach.
We reciprocate as we go past, continuing on, but only until I realise I’ve been in a situation like this before. And right now, I’m not prepared to make the same mistakes I’ve sometimes made in the past.
Lisa’s a little confused, as I drag her back, but returning to our dumpling soup couple, and by using mostly just hand motions, I ask if we can have a photo.
They happily oblige, the selfie is done, and a much appreciated cảm ơn given, along with letting them know via Google that we leave tomorrow, which will hopefully help them understand why the photo request.
Down to the corner our café is on, and glancing across as we go to turn left, our Vietnamese American guy is standing out the front, waving as we go past.
It catches me a little by surprise, as I really wasn’t expecting to see him this late, but his acknowledgement means the world, and just adds to all the other little interactions that have happened today and tonight.
It’s been an amazing few hours, and the whole thing takes me back to our final night here, last year.
These people, their friendliness, their willingness to interact, just never ceases to amaze me, and I can’t help but think how truly lucky we are to be able to spend a little time here.
Back to the Le Blanc by 10.00pm, a slightly bigger smile on my face, and more contemplation than ever, running through my head.
The usual on the bed, the eating of those rice crackers, an attempt made at finishing the remaining beers. And all of that coupled with a fair amount of time, simply standing at the window in the stairwell, watching Saigon wind down for the night.
It’s the usual ‘last night’ thing, I just don’t want it to end.
But it will end.
And it has to end.
Because if it doesn’t, well, we can’t come back.
And we’re most definitely coming back.
I just can’t bear the thought of not.
Cheers,
Scott
seriouslynot 
One thought on “Vietnam 2023 – Trip Report 30”