It’s hard to describe some of the things I’ve seen and experienced here in Vietnam, and thank God for giving us technology. The imagery of what I’m about to explain will be reinforced by the pictures that have illustrated my vantage point.
First, let’s talk about electricity and utilities. It is absolutely mind-boggling how they can hang cables and bundles of electrified wires just above reach, jumbling to the ground at the corner lamp posts to the transformers that sat on the sidewalks. The wires that serviced the buildings were shooting off the main cables. In the jungle streets, it resembled vines weaving and tangling just above. For American standards, it wasn’t code, it wasn’t safe, and here it wasn’t necessary. Darwinian principles reigned supreme here, and if you were too stupid not to mess with what obviously was dangerous equipment, then well, that was on you. In addition to the wires and cables, there was a sense of frugality here. I discussed earlier how your key turned on your electricity, and everything was shut off when you left.
The water heaters were only turned on if you turned the switch to activate them. When the water reached bathing temperature, it would make an annoying, gurgling, bullfrog-like sound, forcing you to turn it off. I forgot to once or twice, only to be woken up and moved to get up and go flip the switch.
The bathroom, oh the bathroom, something entirely beyond me. The locals don’t use toilet paper, and I found myself without any a few times. In these situations, you do what you have to do. Don’t despair. It’s probably not what you think. A flex hose with a spray nozzle is next to every toilet, and there are always clean towels. Use your imagination. The shower, toilet, and sink are often together, and I was pretty surprised at the satisfaction of doing all of your morning bathroom activities simultaneously.
I will say this about the Vietnamese: their streets may not be as clean and their country developing, but their personal hygiene is far superior to ours. I was a little taken aback when asked why I only bathed once in the morning and once in the evening. I explained that I only did that because of the heat and sweat. If the weather was fair back home, I only bathed in the evening before bed. Here, I was told, it was customary to bathe every time I left the apartment, and though it wasn’t said, I’m sure every time one used the restroom as well. It explained why restroom visits seemed long and laborious. Shamed and a little humbled, I made sure to do so from then on out. I guess it is true what native peoples said about early European explorers: we were filthy people.
When we arrived back in Da Nang a week after I had left, it wasn’t the same place I remembered. Looking back, it was probably the massive jet lag and hazy daze I was in the first few days here. Our flight landed relatively late on the 1st of February, about 8 o’clock. I had Airbnb’d an apartment a couple of streets over from Diễm’s apartment, and though we were only back in Da Nang for about 16 hours, it gave her a chance to show me her favorite spots. It was Friday night, and about 10 o’clock before we hit the streets.
We went to one of her favorite noodle shops, Mi Quang. She knew the proprietors of the establishment what was new. It’s a drier noodle dish in that it’s not in broth, with Chile, chunks of fish or meat, fresh herbs and lettuce, and a giant rice cracker. I splashed on some nước mắm (fish sauce), dried chili and dug in. It was delicious, really delicious. As I was halfway into my bowl, a giant sewer rat nonchalantly strolled up to the table across from us and sat back on his hind legs. I looked at him. He looked at me almost as if to say, “Hey, you gonna finish that?” He wasn’t scared, wasn’t concerned. I looked around at the other diners in the establishment, and they either did not see him or did not care. I assumed it was the latter. He eventually crawled out between the open brick half-wall that made up the front of the restaurant. Exiting the building, I took a portrait of my brief dinner guest. total cost for the coffee and dinner, an outrageous $1.75. Thank goodness I didn’t have to pay for the dinner guest.
We headed down the street and walked around the American-inspired fair, a permanent fixture in this section of Da Nang. It had rides, games, and food stalls. The food stalls mainly had sold out of their products, and only a few drinks and fruit stands were still active. There were many lights to see and couples talking together on swings and park-style benches. We walked past the sports arena and open-air amphitheater back to my apartment.
Diễm insisted on washing clothes before she retired so they could dry before morning, as there were no dryers here. It was much appreciated, and I went to take my state-mandated bath and get ready for bed. As I was getting my sleeping attire out, I noticed a gecko with his glue-like suckers perched in the corner above my bed where the wall and ceiling met. I went to retrieve Diễm and showed her the four-legged critter. She gave me this look and waved her hand back and forth as if to say why I was wasting her time. I, laughing, explained that if this had happened at home, most women would have the place fumigated and definitely changed rooms, if not properties. She gave me a look at what kind of women are there in America. I briefly, chuckling to myself, thought the same. It was a humorous scene.
Sweet rat and I would NOT have much eye contact as I would have lost it from hello! You are BRAVE.
He was a nice enough fellow! lol. I knew what I was getting into. There have been a few times were I have definitely had to check my reactions. It’s hard sometimes when the situations are very out of our norm. I will say that the experience has been well worth it. Send my love to everyone I’ll see you soon!