There is an old Vietnamese proverb that goes Ði một ngày Ðàng, học một sàng khôn, which means to “go out for a day, and return with a basketful of learning”. Travelling shapes a young man, and a trip to Vietnam is certainly one that broadens the horizons, and perhaps even teach a few life lessons... so I discovered, when I made my maiden trip to Ho Chi Minh some years ago.
The first thing that struck me on arrival was the sheer number of scooters in the city. As my colleagues and I got into the minivan transport to the hotel, we encountered wave after wave of Vietnamese on scooters milling around us at any given time. Their numbers were so overwhelming that I was reminded of masked bandits swarming around a stagecoach, worker bees filling up a honeycomb… and Singaporean parents scrambling around a table of free textbooks.
The city did not have many traffic lights, and the token red, yellow and green totems seemed to only serve major traffic intersections. It was essentially a free-for-all everywhere else, with people flagrantly flouting basic traffic rules and etiquette. There was no such thing as a right of way, only “who dares wins”. A few scooters were travelling against the flow of traffic or dashing across the road from one side street to another, with some even stopping right in the middle of the road to pick up pillion riders or goods. But despite what seemed like chaos and anarchy, there was still a strange orderliness on the streets.
As I continued to gawk at the sight around me in the relative comfort and safety of the minivan, I learnt my first lesson.
Size does matter in Vietnam, and the best way to travel is to be in a minivan or a large SUV, seamlessly navigating turns without stopping, forcing waves of scooters to slow down and give way. However, by the same logic, one is not advised to attempt such turns in front of fast-approaching 40-seater tour coaches carrying litigation-savvy Americans, or freight trucks loaded with a month’s supply of cow manure and horse dung. In such cases, it is wise to use your brakes instead.
The observance of this important rule and the established pecking order seems to have ensured that there are few accidents in the country. With such a high volume of traffic on the streets, top speeds in the city rarely go above 30km/h anyway — which is an ideal speed for emergency braking within one metre.
Just before we arrived at the hotel, I spotted a scooter carrying two riders and an impossible load of cargo. Two tall and large heavy-looking oriental urns were balanced precariously on either side of the scooter, while the pillion rider clung on to the necks of the urns for some form of balance.
Other riders had their passengers carry large glass panels and even wooden planks. There were also scooters with cages of live chickens and large bulging sacks of vegetables tied to the back seat, and not to mention those with as many as three other passengers at the back!
Being able to balance such large urns while staying upright at all times was, to me, a feat worthy of employment with the Moscow circus. A Singaporean friend living in Vietnam later told me that he had even seen a two-door refrigerator being balanced on the back seat of a scooter!
The riders’ amazing balancing skills reminded me that one has to learn how to balance everything in life.
If you are a champion golfer, for example, you must learn to balance the voracious sexual appetites of at least 14 mistresses with the wrath of your five-iron-wielding wife, while trying to minimise the inevitable public embarrassment and the loss of at least half your disposable income. If you are a famous footballer who has spent your entire career in the red half of Manchester, it is imperative to balance the attention-seeking needs of your wife, your amorous sister-in-law and your favourite reality TV actress. Finally, if you are a former governor of a sunshine state and an actor who only receives accolades in movies in which you don’t have to speak (or, at best, spout corny one liners), then you must balance your inexplicable need to play catch with your housekeeper, while keeping the presence of your illegitimate son a secret from your politically well-connected wife.
Only when you have truly mastered the art of balance can you then get ahead in life!
We finally arrived at our hotel after an absorbing 30 minutes on the roads, where we spent the next day cooped up in the hotel for a regional conference. On the second night, we ventured out to a bar for drinks and several frames of pool, and I learnt my third lesson along the way.
While walking to the bar, we had to cross several traffic junctions — which, to us virgin Vietnamese travellers, was like taking part in a game of Russian roulette. The faint zebra crossings signs on the road were completely ignored by the motorists, or seemed to be some secret traffic code for speeding up instead of slowing down. Thankfully, Linh, our Vietnamese colleague, was on hand to teach us the art of crossing the road in Ho Chi Minh.
“Walk slowly and confidently,” he said, “let the motorists sense your movement and speed and let them go around you.” He then proceeded to demonstrate the fine art of taking slow and assured steps and walking across as if he owned the road.
As I followed suit, I realised that slow and steady wins the race in this death-defying challenge. Walk like a tortoise and reach your destination with all your body parts intact. Dart like a rabbit and you might just paint the zebra crossing with a splash of red.
I thought about the application of this lesson in life, and how important it is for men who date women from Singapore. You must first wine and dine her, take her out to the movies, go for a walk under the stars, wine and dine some more, bring her to more movies, find a common hobby, go for longer walks, buy her presents, drop a few hints, and then maybe, just maybe, it would be appropriate to hold her hand and pop the question. Asking how much money she has in her Central Provident Fund1, and if she would like to apply for a government-subsidised apartment together on your very first date… is most certainly dating suicide.
These were the lessons I learnt on my first visit to Vietnam, and each of my subsequent returns to this amazing land has brought new discoveries, new sights and new friends. In the vibrant classroom that is Vietnam, my lessons are still far from over!
1 Compulsory savings scheme for working Singaporeans