Showing posts with label saigontouristoffice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label saigontouristoffice. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Baby Jesus could get the ostrich to poop.

Oh the pressure!

So many people responded to my last post that now I feel like I ought to deliver some wonderful juicy piece of trashy gossip for you all - but all I've got is this:

 This is what happens when you call an ostrich an emu to its face.

As Martin says in the video below, nice ostrich - but they need to do something about the top of the fence.


Ostrich really do look like big drag queen dinosaurs.  This guy has nearly sliced his own jugular on that chicken wire.

And also, I give you this: 
 This video is especially for my brothers,
who didn't really believe me when I told them
I drove a motorbike up a blustery mountainside on Xmas day.  

We went to Con Dao Island. For those following along at home: Con Dao is a little speck off the Southeast Coast of Vietnam.  It's about a 45 minute flight from Ho Chi Minh city and populated mostly with stray dogs and foreigners learning to ride motorcycles.  The government there have spent a decent bit on roading - all the better to teach the tays on.  The roads are weird though, because there is what appears to be a whole set of city blocks -grid type thing- with no buildings between them.  Just the grid of streets.  For the tays to practice intersections at, I suppose.

At one intersection I got stared down by a traffic cop across the way.  I grinned my biggest grin and stayed put until he'd passed me.  I could tell he was thinking that he could probably get 20 bucks out of me for having no license - but that he'd need to speak English first, and maybe that was a bridge too far.  This time.

I was more worried about starting with him watching.  You know how when you're learning how to ride a bike you tend to be a bit bit wobbly until you get some speed up.  Turns out it's true for motorcycles too.

Other wobbly moments include going around corners, being pointed at by laughing children, and when your $2 helmet flies off your head in a gust of wind while driving (terrified) along a rocky clifftop precipice, mildly strangling you. (Now I know why Vietnamese people never do the straps up on their helmets.)

Luckily I had Mr Martin sitting on the back the whole time - there to stick his foot out when I tried to do a U-turn, or plop my helmet back on my head in case of galemergency. And pay attention to this bit, Mothers: NOBODY GOT HURT.

Not even a stray dog.


Call it a Christmas miracle!

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Katrina (doing the p p pigeon) in Hanoi

So last weekend I went up north in search of crisp uniforms and temperate climes.

I went up on Thursday night by myself - arriving at the very annoying time of midnight - so as to be available bright and early in the morning for meetings for work.  I got my first taste of crisp uniforms straight away on Friday morning.  In Hanoi, the security guards are an altogether more serious affair than in Saigon. Because I was early, I had ten minutes to observe the security guard at the gate of the hospital campus where my meetings were to be held.

On the hospital campus in Saigon the security guards are sort of dishevelled looking.  They don't wear hats.  Sometimes they wave a bit at people, but mostly they are just there to hold the gate open and tell you where to park. The Hanoi security guard is different.  He wears a hat, and polished leather belt.  He holds a loudhailer and you can't see his eyes because he's wearing enormous, opaque aviators.

Not the hospital guy - but these guys were out taking their loudhailer
for a walk on Saturday so I snapped a shot - for you!


The hospital guy was a classic bully. He buzzed his loudhailer at nearly everyone in his vicinity (including me) and barked orders down it at people who were standing not 3 metres away from him. But the thing that surprised me was that nobody seemed to care.  If anything, he was welcome. People needed him to tell them what to do.

So that was weird.

Temperate climes were also easy to find.

By the lake in the afternoon.  Seriously - it was almost cool!

Hanoi is at least as far away from Saigon as Invercargill is from Auckland, and the difference in weather is noticeable.  At this time of year, Hanoi is delightful.  It's warm enough that you can still go sleeveless, but cool enough that you can wear jeans and walk around and not feel like you're going to melt. Even in the middle of the day!  And as we all know - I am a complete wuss about being too hot, or too cold.

Martin flew up after work on Friday night, and so we spent the weekend there together.  Really the only dull part of the whole weekend was that I had a cold and so with all the snuffling and wheezing I kept running out of steam.  I'm glad I toughed it out though - because there was some really cool stuff to see.

Like the ethnology museum:

There was an extremely embarrased bunch of
teenage boys hamming it up around this exhibit. Of course. 
 


You probably can't tell, but I'm throwing my goat  buffalo here.
Total lady-rocker.

 Waka?

The Temple of Literature


and of course...


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wait for it...
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wait for it!
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The tanks!




Ha!  Hope I didn't get you too excited, there!

In the eternal competition that is Hanoi vs Saigon, Hanoi wins because there's a cafe at the war museum.  Saigon would be way better if its war museums had cafes. Or if any of its museums had cafes.  It there was a cafe at Remnants, then next time I got visitors I could just send them off with a packet of tissues each and calmly sip my coffee-flavoured sweetened condensed milk until they returned. All harrowed. I wouldn't even have to get sore feet.

And I didn't get sore feet at this one either, because I just sat and sipped my drink and emailed pictures of my husband to my mother-in-law from my ipod.

This little trip was different from our usual weekend trips as well, because this time we had friends to meet.  I imposed on both Helen from Blue Dragon to entertain me on Friday night, and Tabitha (and Nathan - you only get parentheses Nathan, because you don't actually write the blog!) from The City That Never Sleeps In on Saturday.  Helen deserves a medal for looking after me on Friday night - when my exhaustion had loosened my tongue so much she couldn't get a word through my incessant slurring.

And Tabitha?  Well - she fed us pigeons!



My grandfather was a pigeon man you know.  It felt terribly wrong.  It felt like it should have had a real stiff drink of secret pigeon loft whisky to wash it down.  (I settled for rice wine and licking my fingers.)


Here's one for the Sesame Street fans.  My grandmother used to sing this to me!



Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Dear Phil - we had your parents for dinner...

And they were delicious! 

Let the wild zombie rumpus begin! 

I'm just kidding -  of course I didn't eat your dear Mum and Dad.  If I did that, then who would send you parsnips next spring, and keep Winnie in swede and potato soups?  Hm?

No - we didn't have them for dinner - they had us for dinner instead.  After a hard day of shopping in Saigon your Mum and Dad took us out for a meal at a restaurant called Indochine somewhere in District 3. They were here as part of a food tour, and had eaten their way from Hanoi, then Hue, then Hoi An to Ho Chi Minh City - just like the very hungry caterpillar eats its way through the pages of that book.

Undoubtedly by the time they got here they had already eaten several Foods Served Inside Other Foods as seems to be the standard in Vietnamese restaurants that want to impress tourists. But if they'd had enough of that they didn't let on and reacted only with joy and admiration when served this spectacular dish of prawns wrapped in potatoes and jabbed into the side of a lighted-from-within pineapple.

Try making that at home - I dare you!

It was a very delightful visit, and I hope they DO come again and do that car drive around the mountains in the central highlands they were talking about. 

Now THAT would be a holiday full of butterflies.


Friday, August 5, 2011

Birthday wishes for my mother in law

Winnie is Mr Martin's mother, and today is her birthday.  Winnie is this blog's BIGGEST FAN! In the beginning, she printed out every post so she could share our adventures with all her visitors. I'm not sure if she printed out the one with all swears in it though!

When we were in New Zealand, we used to do all our vegetable shopping at Avondale Market, and we'd usually do some shopping for Winnie while we were there too.  Winnie's shopping list usually went like this: Some carrots a pumpkin kumara some potatoes bananas if they have any and some nice apples.  All the heavy stuff!

I wish we could go market shopping together now, Winnie!

First we'd get all the heavy stuff...

Then maybe some beautiful fresh froggie birthday treats!

And let's not forget to pick up a nice bit of meat for tea!

After the market we'd probably go and get a spot of coffee somewhere:

Either hot...

Or deliciously refreshing icy-cold!

We'll definitely have to go for a ride in a cyclo...

We'll try not to get ripped off this time!

...and hopefully the traffic won't be too hectic!

A nice quiet day like this would be perfect!

And maybe we can go and feed the penguins at the zoo.


With any luck, the day will go smoothly, and we won't get a powercut...

...or a storm!
But don't worry - even when the weather is bad outside - the food is still really good!


I hope you have a happy birthday, Winnie! And many more to come, too!

Everything's more fun in a silly hat!


Saturday, July 23, 2011

Does this make you want to flop 'em out?

What do you think of this image?

Hint: It's not from a fashion catalogue. 

Let's zoom in:
Why is this child wearing a bathing suit that gives us a weird x-ray view of her kidneys, bladder and colon?

Actually, the picture comes from Tuoi Tre News who have a reasonably good article today about how malnutrition is causing stunted grown in around 30% of Vietnamese children.  The government is blaming this problem on a lack of breastfeeding, and products being sold to Vietnamese parents a nutritional supplements that are very poor quality - specifically: infant formulas.

The image used in the article is odd - but the article itself is good and points at a big problem in the Vietnamese infant feeding market. You might think it strange that I'm talking about infant feeding as a marketplace, but that's exactly what it is.  Every Vietnamese supermarket I've been into has an entire aisle devoted to infant formula products.

Daycare centers and kindergartens are easy to spot, because they all seem to be sponsored by infant formula companies which paint colourful cartoonish murals on the outside walls.

This article from 2009 describes the aggressive push by infant formula companies in Vietnam.  The law here is clear, that breastfeeding should be promoted and that marketing infant formulas in hospitals and the like is forbidden - but it is not well observed. The situation is unchanged now in 2011 - probably worse.


When she heard my mother was coming, my Vietnamese friend asked me to get my mother to bring cans of infant formula for her 2 and a half year old daughter. Vietnamese people are suspicious of the quality of the formulas they are feeding their children, and yet steadfastly believe that they should be feeding their children special formulated foods.  The irony of this is that an adult Vietnamese diet (assuming the family are living somewhere above the poverty line) is rich in vegetables, fruit and fish. Many Asian people cannot easily digest lactose and do well to stay away from milk, cheese, ice-cream and yogurt - and yet still get plenty of protein from tofu and soy-based products, as well as some calcium from fish and small animal bones and other items that are not part of a typical western diet*.  If the toddlers were eating what their parents ate - instead of over-boiled rice mushed with thick infant formula - they would most likely have a much healthier diet.

A further irony is that these formula products are favoured by Vietnam's growing middle classes.  They are very expensive to buy, and have been successfully marketed as somewhat of a luxury item.  This may explain why parents are so willing to pay such a premium for them to feed to children who are well past the age of being needed to be bottle-fed.

If there's something that really astounds me about the problem of breastfeeding in Vietnam, it's that breastfeeding is something that - on the face of it - is well respected here.  There are many many artworks and public monuments depicting breastfeeding mothers. 



The aptly-named "Unfinished Suck" from the second floor of the Southern Women's Museum shows a woman reaching for her gun. She has been interrupted whilst feeding her baby. This is a terribly affecting piece of work - as the expression on the faces of both the woman and her baby make you think that perhaps it is too late.

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The detail in the image below is the central focus of another huge painting on the same floor.  It shows a baby attempting to suckle from a woman who has been killed a battle.


And here is the whole painting (click on it to see a bigger version):


Here is another depiction of a woman soldier breastfeeding, but it is much more tenderly evocative. I look at it and imagine that the artist was drawing a woman and a child he knows and loves - perhaps his wife was the model? This one is in the Fine Arts Museum which is not far from Ben Thanh Market.



Breastfeeding also plays a part in literature any myth, whereas, I can't think of a traditional children's story from the West that talks about breast-feeding.  Take the milk-apple, for example.  According to myth, it is named for breastmilk.  Once upon a time, a naughty boy ran away from home. His mother waited for him to return under the leaves of a tree. When he never returned, she became the tree - and its fruit is the milk-apple - still waiting for him to feed him when he comes home.

Maybe the success of the infant and toddler formula market in Vietnam is a allegorical of the triumph of commercial advertising over art, or over propaganda (or both). But it is heartbreaking to see children who are genuinely loved, and whose parents want only the best for them literally dying from malnutrition - even those children who don't feel hungry.

I don't know what we as expats in Vietnam can do. Surely using all those same strategies to promote breastfeeding that are used all the time in the West is a good idea - breastfeed in public, encourage new mothers to breastfeed, if you are an employer - make sure any breastfeeding mothers on staff have time and space to feed or express milk.  Maybe don't buy formula for your friends' toddlers.

And finally: Don't demonise or ostracise those mothers who do choose to use formula to feed their infants.  Remember that infant formulas save very many more babies than they kill when the mothers can't or won't breastfeed for whatever reason. Breast is best, but I would rather a woman who doesn't breastfeed gives her baby infant formula than rice soaked in cow's milk and porkfat - wouldn't you?  Unless of course you're trying to make zombie babies:




*Soymilk in Vietnam is usually served fresh and therefore not fortified with calcium the way it is in the west.

Friday, July 22, 2011

A lot can happen in a month

Today is the 22nd, which means it's been almost a month since I've signed in here to give you all an update on my wee life.

Actually a lot has happened.  First of all, Mummy and Nana finally came to visit!

We failed to pose for a family photo, of course. This is the best I've got of all 3 generations together.

It was quite the family reunion with my grandmother coming from Abu Dhabi and my mother coming from Hamilton in NZ. 

We went to Hoi An, which meant walking in ruins:

My mother wore this orange t-shirt, which was wonderful because she kept wandering off and it made her easy to spot.
I suggest if you have a toddler with wanderlust that you clothe them entirely in day-glo.

Restaurants:




Going on a boat:


Some beach time:



And psychedelia with geodes at the Marble Mountain gift shop:



Nana was spotted stuffing dong into the pockets of the girl who was leading her around the gift-shop.  As we were leaving the girl said to me: "Your grandmother very good!".  It was a mutually rewarding transaction - Nana says the Vietnamese are very friendly.

We learned that Mr Martin never naps during the day, much as he'd like to.  Poor dear.



We had a few days in Saigon too.  There was some eating:




Some marketing:


What is this? Spotted at Benh Thanh market. Is it sea slugs?  Is it food?


And of course, a cyclo ride:



On the cyclo, Nana was urging the driver to "Go faster! Go faster!" - so she ended up way ahead of us.

My Nana is 75 years old and managed just fine getting around considering that Vietnam is a challenging environment even for young, fit people.  Of course, the heat was difficult, and we had booked a tour to Cham Island not realising that getting on an off the boat was going to be too much of an ask for Nana's knees, so unfortunately she couldn't come along that day.  However, she was quite happy to have a day resting in the air-conditioning and cafes of the hotel.

Hoi An was the perfect place for us all to go and relax, as the streets are easy to walk on and there are plenty of cafes and shops to stop in where the staff have very good English and are used to dealing with older tourists.  We were very well looked after for the entire course of our stay - especially by the staff of my own apartment building who really went out of their way to make sure they were looked after.  A celebrity in my own neighbourhood, I have been asked by complete strangers in stores and on the street about how my parents are doing, and am still being asked now, 3 weeks after they have left.

My mother is still young and so the trip was not physically too much of a challenge for her, and she seemed to love every minute of it. I think we will probably see her again - maybe next year!

If you have parents or grandparents thinking of coming but who might be worried about it being difficult - encourage them to come anyway.  I am too young to remember the Vietnam War, but my mother and grandmother both do remember (and my Great-Uncle served 3 tours here for the Australian army) and I think for them seeing the recovery in the country and experiencing generosity and hospitality of the Vietnamese was really amazing. And I really can't stress enough how much care and attention my grandmother received from the locals - there was no chance of anything going wrong!