I have to be honest, the first thing that struck me about Vietnam was how aggressive people sound when speaking, especially in English. It's a manner that falters on barking in short sharp bursts. My first taxi driver was a good example; 'Long' had picked me up from HCMC airport and engaged me in short bouts of broken English on the way into the city. I couldn't figure out if he was genuinely angry or maybe just hadn't taken to me that well; I decided to find out. I introduced myself and he reciprocated; I then caught his eye in the rear view mirror and smiled, he returned the gesture. This seemed to break the ice, and from then on we actually had a good ride into town together. Every now and then he shouted "number one driver"..."me.. best driver!" with his index finger resolutely pointed in the air, whilst chuckling away to himself. We then entered into an off the cuff lesson in Vietnamese, whereby I did my best to repeat the high, middle and low level tones of his native tongue. 'Long' seemed happy with his new students' feeble efforts and so I took the opportunity to prematurely proclaim myself "best student!"..."me...best student...you best driver!". He responded with shouts of 'Ok, Ok!!" as we carried ourselves down through the maze of traffic. Following on from my initial unease, we had actually built up a nice little rapport in quite a short space of time. I made a conscious note to self to re-adjust my interpretation of tone; something we're used to doing as standard back home. However, it was quite obvious that tonal emphasis and inflections were not 'same same' as I was used to.
I'd arrived in Saigon early evening, with the intention of wasting the following afternoon aimlessly wandering the streets; a little time to relax and unwind from the flight from Phnom Penh, Cambodia. However being back in a main city hit me with a jolt; seemingly endless mopeds screaming and beeping their way through the grey, polluted streets. Row upon row of people looking busy, but upon close inspection busy looking busy, rather than actually working. Guys casually draped across mopeds at every corner, gesturing, pointing, shouting for your business. The light here seemed different, a definite change, flatter somehow. Maybe it was just this part of town, maybe it was just my mood, maybe both, but I felt a little claustrophobic and so made for some open space. Any open space would have done....however, It would seem my tiredness would win the day, as I became lost and too lethargic to rectify the situation. I promptly made my way back to the hotel and arranged for a flight that evening to Hanoi. I needed some clean air and open vistas; I'd visited several cities on this trip and was beginning to get the feeling that one street looked like the next.. looked like the next.. like the next. For me thats a sign to get out, find a complete change of scenery. I was keen to explore the central highlands of Vietnam and get a little 'lost' for a while.
During my brief wander through the streets of Ho Chi Min City (formerly Saigon) I captured a few images that caught my eye; I found the streets for the most part devoid of the colours and vitality that I'd found in Cambodia and Laos. Maybe upon a return visit I would see things differently; thats the way it should be, each time a different experience, a different interpretation, a different perspective.
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