Vietnam is a Great Place Because of the Vietnamese

I'm currently in Dalat in the Central Highlands of Vietnam.  Tomorrow, I head to Ho Chi Minh City (aka Saigon).  I have absolutely fallen for Dalat.  I really can't say why, but I think it encompasses many of the magical qualities that have made Vietnam such a tremendous experience for me.

I have been surprised be the Vietnamese.  Their kindness, their entrepreneurial spirit, their industriousness, and their discipline give me great hope for this country of 85 million people.

I have been surprised by the lack of animosity that the Vietnamese have for Americans.  After the United States funding and fighting with the losing side in a series of wars lasting from 1945 through 1975 (the US provided much of the funding for a weakened post WWII France to fight from 1945 to 1954 (Indochina War).  The US then supported the South Vietnamese with training, arms, and funding from 1954 to 1965.  The US had troops on the ground from 1965 through 1973 (Vietnam War or the American War as the Vietnamese call it).  The South fell to the communist North, reuniting Vietnam again in 1975) I would have expected to have seen at least an inkling of dislike, blame, or hard feelings over the misery that those wars inflicted on the population.  Around ten percent of the population was killed in these wars.  I have seen no animosity.  In fact, I have felt uncomfortable several times for the extreme hospitality that I have received.

Vietnam is a communist country.  There is one political party, the communist party, that determines policy for the country.  My understanding is that the population generally is happy with their government (that says a lot since I can't remember the last time that the majority of the US liked their government).  Interestingly, from street level, you would think that the US was the country whose government heavily influences/regulates the local market.  However, I'm not suggesting that all the controls that the US has placed on its market economy are bad, many have had very positive effects like copyright infringement laws. Capitalistic commerce is alive and well in Vietnam, with shops everywhere.  There are hawkers everywhere selling their wares.  Every street has twenty different shops selling similar services/products all in competition with each other. 

The Vietnamese always seem to be working.  Family run shops are open from before I get up until after I go to bed.  For example, the same man is working at the internet café now, ten hours after I came this morning.  I wouldn't be surprised if he was here from opening, 8:00a.m., until closing, 10:00p.m.  It seems like every family with a little bit of money is opening up some sort of small business.  Sometimes there will be several different businesses in the front area of a families house.  Much to my annoyance, the Vietnamese are always trying to make another sale.  Being in Vietnam is like being in a store where all the employees work on commission. 

I have been surprised by the order and discipline I have seen in Vietnamese society.  I most notably witnessed this in Hanoi, where an enormous crowd of people was out for the celebrations in honor of the 1000 anniversary of the founding of the city.  I did not see any drunks in the streets, no one was causing problems, people were orderly, but still clearly having a good time.  The police presence was minimal and very soft (directing traffic and not cracking people over the head with batons).  Many skeptics may attribute this order to fear of the communistic regime, but I don't believe this.  I feel it probably has more to do with the Confucian principles with which the culture is based and the collective spirit forged to bring in the annual rice harvest century after century.  Whatever the reason, it creates for a nice atmosphere. I love traveling in a place where my greatest fear is that I will be overcharged.  This is a far cry from the violence of Central America that weighed so heavily upon my psyche.

I will only be in Vietnam for a few more days before I head to Cambodia to visit Phnom Penh and Angkor Wat. 

The Veins of Vietnam Are Full of Motorbikes

Motorbikes dominate the streets of Vietnam with a chaotic ballet.  The streets of any big city here are flooded with motorbikes.  Lanes and directional signs don't prevent them from making use of every inch of the pavement.  Intersections look more like the cross of figure-eight demolition derby races, but, somehow, without the accidents. 

Vietnam is commonly conjures images of bicyclists with conical reed hats pedaling through rice patties.  Though many examples of this slower life style still exist, the country has convincingly left the past to nostalgic recollections. 

Most certainly you have seen images of motorbikes completely overloaded with people and material.  These pictures were probably taken in Vietnam.  I have seen up to five people, 4 adults and a child, on a single motorbike.  I saw a motorbike with at least six cases of half liter beer bottles on the back.  It may seem ludicrous to transport so much on one motorbike while seated in the U.S., but here it feels right.  In fact, I would probably do the same if given the opportunity.

Having masses of motorbikes on the streets has a different feel than masses of automobiles.  Of course, I'm not considering that the cities here would never be able to support all those motorbikes becoming cars, the traffic jams would be unbearable.  But what I'm considering is how much more human a feel motorbikes have on the street.  A car is a steel cage that encircles us. It gives us a sense of security from bodily harm, but it acts as a barrier between us and the world.  On the other hand, a motorbike leaves the rider exposed, but open to all those around, like a pedestrian. Our terminology reflects this in that we see a car, an inanimate object, on the road but we see a motorcyclist, a person.  The motorbikes on the street create a warm sense of humanity, whereas the car emits a cold sterility.  

Though motorbikes may make Vietnam's streets feel more personal they certainly make it frightening to cross the street.  Even a simple two lane road is like crossing a six lane freeway when it is full of motorbikes.  On most main streets the flow of motorbikes is constant.  To cross you just have to go.  What do I mean by that?  Well, you don't look at the traffic.  You just step out into the traffic and walk across at a slow and steady space.  Kind of like how when you are high up on a ladder you shouldn't look down, when you are crossing the street, you shouldn't look at the traffic.  If you do, you'll get scared.  But no need to worry, the motorbikes swerve and miss you.  A blind man could cross the streets here without a problem.  He just has to walk slowly and deliberately and the traffic will avoid him.  Proof of this was an old women crossing an exceptional wide street in Hanoi.  She was stooped over hobbling along with her cane, moving at a snails pace.  I felt fear as I saw her disappear behind a bus to only see her on the other side surrounded by a dozen motorbikes all moving around her as she slowly made her way across mid-street.  I figure if she can survive this long with her no look, snailish crossing of busy streets, my odds must be pretty good that I'll make it too.

Heading South Through Vietnam

It has been awhile and a few miles since I last wrote.  I’m currently in Hoi An, Vietnam waiting to catch a bus to the beach town of Nha Trang.  I don’t think I will stay but will head to Dalat in the mountains.  It all depends on bus connections.

I left Timor-Leste nearly three weeks ago.  I spent a quick night in Singapore with a friend of a friend and left some stuff behind.  The next morning I had an early flight to Hanoi on Tiger Airways.  However, on my flight into Singapore I was reading an article in the Strait Times (the Singapore Newspaper) on how Tiger Airways was canceling many of its flights due to two aircraft that needed unexpected maintenance.  I was nervous.  We were only going to spend a few hours in Hanoi before catching a night train to Lao Cai on our way to Sapa.  Out of the Tiger Airways’ eight morning flights, only two weren’t canceled, the ones to Hong Kong and Hanoi.  We were in luck.

The immense development of Singapore was a sharp shock to the senses after rough and tumble Timor.  The streets were pristinely paved; I narily felt a bump as cruised along a freeway with well manicured landscaping. Lights climbed into the sky, emitted from the offices of high-rise towers.  The port, the world’s busiest, hummed along on the left of the freeway for what seemed most of the 45 minute taxi ride.  It doesn’t need to be said that it was a shock to the senses, but it was nice to shake off the dust from Timor.

I was going to Hanoi to visit Nancy, a friend from UCLA, who has family in the city, and to celebrate the 1000^thanniversary of its founding.  Hanoi was founded on October 10, 1010.  Its not very often that you get to go to a 1000^th birthday party.  The party was to last from October 1 to the 10.  We were leaving Hanoi immediately so we could go to Sapa and make it back for the important last three days. 

Sapa is a mountain town by the Chinese border.  Mt. Fanispan (aka Fancy pants), Vietnam’s highest mountain, stands out as a bump in a long ridge of mountains.  Our goal for Sapa was to climb the 3143 meter mountain.  We were blessed with amazing weather and completed the climb over two days. 

Sapa is known for more than its mountains and cool weather.  There also is a large number of ethnic groups. Familiar to many Americans are the Hmong, which live in the mountains of Vietnam, Laos, and Thailand. There are four different Hmong groups differentiated by their dress:  Black Hmong, White Hmong, Flower Hmong, and Green Hmong.  There are also a couple other groups like the Red Dao. 

Hanoi was a crazy place.  Being a large SE Asian city, it has only been limitedly affected by the rapid westernization and high-rise building boom of places like Saigon, Bangkok, and Kuala Lumpur.  It’s old merchants quarter is still intact, though today it is would better be called the tourist’s quarter.  The streets are dominated by motorbikes cris-crossing paths in a chaotic ballet, more resembling a school of fish chasing chum than traffic as we American’s know it.  Hoam Kiem Lake is Hanoi’s central park.  Much of the people looking to get involved in the festivities went there.  The busiest night was Saturday, October 9^th, with what seemed a mass of a million people doing circles around the lake.  Stages were set up on several corners, but many of the acts were bad.  This didn’t affect the mood; most people were out to revel in the masses of people and spend time with family and friends. 

I made a quick stop at Halong Bay, which was beautiful, but touristy beyond belief. 

Next I stopped in one of Vietnam’s historic capitals, Hue.  Until the August Revolution of 1945 that put the communists in power this is where the emperor’s ruled from.  An enormous and spectacular citadel dominates the northern bank of the Pearl River.  The citadel is slowly being restored after being heavily damaged in the wars of 1945 and 1968 and a couple natural disasters.  It was here where I finally rented a motorbike and hit the streets on my own.  I’m proud of myself!  Only one person cursed me.

I’m currently in Hoi An, and old trading town that has slickly maneuvered into becoming a mega tourist trap. I’m not impressed.  The old parts of town don’t look that different than many other areas I’ve been.  I would like it more if I was looking to buy a tailored suit or some other handicraft good.  But, I’m traveling on a budget and don’t have room in my bag for too many souvenirs, especially this early in the trip.

You are now up to date with my travels.  In the coming days I will write more on other aspects of Vietnam.

COCA-COLA, THE NEW WORLD CURRENCY

Every time I travel, I always end up writing about Coca-Cola.  It is far and away the world’s most globalized and ubiquitous product.  It is everywhere I have ever gone, no matter how remote, no matter how snobbish towards American cultural influence, no matter the poverty that inundates a place.  I have written about being offered Coca-Cola in a village a six hour walk from the nearest road; the Coke came in on the back of a mule.  I have written how in Guatemala, when you ask for “agua” you get a Coke; you have to ask for an “agua pura” if you want regular water.  I have tasted Coke in big cans, small cans, plastic bottles, glass bottles in 8 oz, 12 oz and half liter sizes, and the mostly in America, Coke from a soda fountain.  I have tasted the differences in sweetness depending on the local community’s preferences.  In short, I have been around a lot of Coke ......... Coca-Cola!

After all this, I was surprised to have a new Coca-Cola experience yesterday that yet again defined the drink’s worldly ubiquitousness.  I was given coke as money.  After buying my lunch yesterday, the woman didn’t have enough change to give me bills, so she gave some bills, some coins, and a Coca-Cola.  Move over, the dollar, the euro, gold, Coca-Cola is the new world currency. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating this one instance’s importance, but it is an interesting insight into a global product which we almost don’t even notice any longer, it has become part of the background of our lives.

WATER AS A RIGHT AND THE PROBLEMS IT CREATES

Working in and around water, especially water politics is a messy affair.   People, rightly so, have a lot tied up in water.  It is essential for life, obviously.  We need to consume a couple liters a day in one form or another to stay living.  It needn’t be said that if a society has any civility and humanity at all, water should be a right regarded to everyone, .............Right?  It seems pretty straight forward, but the longer I’m around water talk the more complicated it gets.

The determination that water is a right has many complications.  If water is a right, it should be free, or at least very cheap, seems to be a common mindset around the world (why are we so adamant about cheap water in the US?).  While in Honduras, I dealt with this issue on a daily basis.  The Honduran Constitution clearly states that the water in a river or stream is owned by no one and so can’t be charged for, though the landowner can raise a stink about water conveyance infrastructure crossing his land.  As a part of the water projects I was implementing, there was a finance component.  Connected households were to be charged a minimal fee, about $1 to $1.50, so as to fund system maintenance and minor repairs.  But the local people, due to the Honduran Constitution and local beliefs about water being a right, felt that their water should be free.  I commonly had to use the counter argument that the water is free, so feel free to walk to the water source fill a bucket with water and carry it back to your home.  The point being that the water is free, but it is the infrastructure that brings it clean and conveniently to your home that costs money and should be financed by the local community.  This is where the problem lies; to provide free water is expensive.  

Interesting, the very notion that water is a right and should be free makes the poorest pay more than the rich for clean water in much of the developing world.   Having good water access is generally confined to well established, wealthy areas of developing world cities.  Reasons for this are that having access to an amenity such as a high quality water system raises land prices making it unaffordable to the poor and the systems were generally built by the old colonial power to serve the colonizers’ homes in the city center, exclusive of the poor masses.  The poor masses live in the surrounding slums and low income housing areas.  A policy of cheap or free water means that by providing water infrastructure to the poor areas does not payback the costs of implementation.  More so, if existing water sources are limited, new areas added to the network are usually not provided water at the same service level as the old, but politically influential, colonial center;  any reduction in the quality of the center’s service delivery to provide more homes water is vehemently opposed.  But new water sources are progressively more expensive to develop as the cheapest sources are developed first meaning that new water for the poorer outlying areas has a higher marginal cost than the water currently provided to the central city.  This may mean that the new areas are charged more, subsidized so the cost is the same as the central city’s, or a rise on average between the cost of providing water to the center and to the new area ,raising the center’s price slightly.  The poor slums that don’t receive piped water are many times supplied by private services which spring up in a piped system’s absence.  These sources may be a truck that comes around, a neighbor who sells water from a local well, or any assortment of other means.  What is certain is that this water is usually many times the cost of the highly subsidized water in the piped system.  The point I’m trying to get across from this is that, in developing countries government subsidized piped water systems encouraged by the idea that water is a right, disproportionately serves the wealthier citizens, while the poor pay a significantly higher price to obtain water by other means. 

A second major problem with water as a right is that, how much water should be rightfully delivered to each person.  A person may only need a few dozen liters of water to maintain proper hygiene and living standards in day to day life, but this discounts the many other ways that water ensures economic livelihood.  For example, a poor Indian farmer may depend on water to irrigate his crops, providing him with much needed food.  If the water needed for him to economically maintain his limited lifestyle is not allowed him or goes up substantially in price, he will economically falter.  Thus, he needs many more than a few dozen liters daily.  Agriculture around the world is by far the largest consumer of water.  In California, something like 85% of all water in the state is used to grow our fresh produce.  Farmers rightfully argue that if you take away their water you are also taking away their economic livelihood, though it should be noted that they could use the water much more efficiently.  If the farmers’ economic livelihood depends on the water, then do they have a right to it?

I’m not arguing that water is not a human right, as it is clearly a human necessity and I feel that as people, we should at least try to assure that water is fairly distributed.  The problem is, what is fair? Currently, the very terminology of water as a right is not very well defined in the societal consciousness.  The idea that water is a right often prevents many of the neediest from getting it.    The day a consensus is reached on how we should manage our water resources will be an important day.

THE POWER OF MONEY

Money, we desire it, but we despise the greed it induces.  We wish the world could operate without it, but we pragmatically realize that it is how we value goods and services.  Others will claim that the coldness that money inspires (i.e., business economics) is proof that money drives us humans away from the very nature that defines us as human, are warm caring emotions.  Well!  I really would like to have the cold, heartless power of money on my side right now.

The water systems that I am implementing are done so by the community which will benefit from it.  The community is not paid for their labor, as it is seen as their contribution to the cost of the system, since they are unable to provide any significant funding.  I find this method both fair, and it allows them to receive a water system even though their local and/or national governments can’t afford to provide the funding.  Not all agree with me on this, I have heard that it is not fair that the poor should have to work for free to get water while the rich in the big cities get their water system (in the wealthier parts of the bigger cities) through paid labor.  

Having the community build the system limits the speed of construction, complicates logistics, and makes for an unreliable construction crew.  The community only can work so many days a week on the system.  They have fields to tend and, maybe even, money to earn (though there aren’t many sources of paid labor in Passabe).  Sure, water is a monetary benefit, but they already obtain it free of monetary cost; they pay in the labor of carrying it, which is not from too great a distance.  Since the project is rushed, I have to complete the eleven systems that I have quickly.  Being that I am limited on the speed with which I can work in any given community that means to finish quickly I must work in all or most of the communities simultaneously, making for a logistics nightmare.  I would much prefer to work in two or three systems at a time and I as I finish one move on to a new one.  The third is that the work force that I might have in a community is highly unreliable. Some days we will have sixty or more community members, but not enough work for them.  The next we won’t have any, but a lot of work.  If it is market day, people won’t work.  If the morning starts out rainy (like today) it is difficult to get the community to work.  Sometimes the community will decide the night before that they want to work and won’t tell us, while another community will decide at the last minute that they don’t want to work after having stated that they would.  This leaves us with technicians and materials in the wrong communities.  Furthermore, many of the communities are experiencing system construction fatigue.  My projects take months to build. In the beginning the communities are excited and motivated making them eager to work, but after months of construction and no water their motivation has faded until work is a chore. 

Even though I agree with the projects policy to not pay the local communities to build their own water system, I wish I could pay them as it would really speed up the construction time and decrease logistics issues.  A good example on how money speeds up the construction process is are method of obtaining gravel.  To build concrete tanks and water catchments, we need gravel.  However, as I’ve written before, there is no easy way to get gravel as there is no quarry.  So, in Passabe, we decided to start a local operation to make our gravel.  We pay them $1 for a box of gravel which is around 40 centimeters cubed (I should know this but I can’t recall at the moment).  The community on their own motivation will break big river rocks into gravel of the size we need for 8 or 10 hours a day.  When we need a lot of gravel, the rock breakers will be hammering away until while after midnight and start again at 8:00 in the morning.   It is needless to say that we have never run short of gravel.

If I could pay the communities, I am certain that I would always have plentiful labor.  I could get my work done in a timely matter.  And I could be done with this frustration of changing my weekly work plans and priorities on a daily basis.  Oh, that would be nice!

Reflections on my nearly finished time in Timor-Leste

In under two weeks I will be flying to Vietnam.  I will have finished my work in Timor-Leste and be doing some travelling before I need to decide what is my next step.  With so little time left, it is not surprising that I’m beginning to reflect on my time in Timor-Leste, whether I should continue doing international development, and how my view has been altered of the world.

Timor-Leste has had its challenges, not the least among them, the seclusion I have felt in my work site.  I work in the department of Oecussi, which is cut off from the rest of Timor-Leste by Indonesia. I have been in one of the more distant reaches of Oecussi, the town of Passabe.  My only relief is when I’m in Oecussi town on the weekends where I have internet at night, though that means that it is very early the previous morning in the US.  Life without daily phone or internet is hard.  I know many of you will laugh about the absurdity of needing to be connected and you wouldn’t be wrong to point out that just 10 years ago, where I’m at, there was no phone and internet at all.  I wouldn’t have been able to have any contact with the outside world, except when I would go into the capital, Dili. 

I both love and hate international work at the same time.  I love being in new places, places that are exotic to my norm of American-ness.  The immense stimulation of daily life in a new place is extremely exhilarating.  The constant riddle of the local culture and daily life leaves my mind a whirring and my senses heightened.  But the sensory highs mean that there are lows, where the longing for the normalcy and comfortableness of home creates a nearly debilitating homesickness.  All in all there is a cycle, where I want the stimulation of being overseas when I’m in the US and I want the comfortableness of home when I’m away. 

Also, the very purpose of international development work as a whole leaves me conflicted.  On the one hand I want to help develop a country like Timor-Leste, but on the other hand I feel like the family supporting the drunk uncle by giving him a place to stay and food to eat.  The support in a way supports the uncle’s drunkenness furthering the very problem that I would like to wean him from.  Sure, you can try to give him help to break his pattern of drunkenness, but in the end it depends on the uncle whether he dries up or not, and not you.  In other words, no matter how much support you give, it is still the uncle that needs to make the effort to come dry, the support you give only facilitates, but doesn’t guarantee the final result.  International development work is similar in that you are trying your best to help the country develop, but no matter the support you give, it is the local culture, and governing bodies that often determine how successful a program is.  Some places, you can give them a few rocks and they will build a bridge, others you will give them abundant rocks to build a hundred bridges and they will just throw them at their neighbours.

In the end, local cultures are difficult to change.  Often the very reasons that keep a country undeveloped are the result of local culture.  This does not mean that the local culture is solely to blame, as it is a response to local conditions, geographic placement, past history, which may have been influenced strongly by outside forces (think colonization), or any assortment of reasons.  What I’m saying is that the culture that develops is not directly the fault of those who are dealing with its consequences in the present.  Would we blame Henry Ford for the unwalkable, car oriented, suburban culture that the automobile affordable for the masses brought upon the United States and its urban form?  Though it is obvious that American society and culture is heavily influenced by widespread access to automobiles today, we wouldn’t go so far as holding Ford solely accountable, as many other factors, like government policy, personal choice, land market rates, and technological innovations also contributed to the car culture we currently have.  All I can wonder is what will be the impetus that pushes Timor-Leste from its stagnation into a virtuous cycle of development and when will it occur.  Will it be the result of a powerful but somewhat benevolent dictator like in Singapore in the 1960s?  Will it be the result of an outside force imposing its will upon the country, like General Perry’s fleet forcing Japan to open its doors in the late 1800s?  Or will it be a combination of subtle factors?  Who knows?

An observation that always surprises me is how similar societies are throughout the world.  I am always surprised by how similar I find people to be throughout the world.  The biggest differences I find seem to fall upon economic and educational lines.  I find that there are great similarities between class tiers in different countries, a greater similarity than among different classes within the same country.  For example, I find the wealthy and educated classes in Timor Leste to be more similar to the wealthy and educated classes of the US than with the poor classes within their own country.  I know, that I just made an enormous generalization, and I’m certain that if you want to look at the details in each individual country you can prove my point wrong in some instances.  What I’m trying to state is that I feel from personal experience that the divisions between class and education levels are greater than the divisions between cultures.

I think that is enough for now.  I’m ruminating as I write, and probably now as I finish my views may have changed on what I said at the beginning.  Your comments and insights are most welcome if you so desire to offer them.