Living Vertically

In 2007 I learned that 60% of Vietnam’s population was born after 1975. That’s when the “American” war ended and Vietnam’s reproductive juices got going again. Five years later my guess is that the number is closer to 70%. There are kids and young adults everywhere. Tu Du Pediatric Hospital in Saigon sees 50,000 new babies every year. One hospital – 50,000 babies every year. So, what am I thinking? Well, sooner or later all those babies will get old and when they do they will find out that life is difficult when they can’t climb stairs, step over curbs or get their wheelchairs in and out of a bathroom or restaurant. I’m not there but I know what the future looks like. America has the(ADA) Americans with Disabilities Act to help make life easier for disabled people. Vietnam has nothing like it.

Here’s the issue: In Saigon, people live vertically. There are stairs and stairways everywhere. There are very few elevators or escalators. I climb three flights of stairs to get to one of my favorite restaurants. It’s rare to find one that doesn’t have at least one flight of stairs. The buildings here are tall and narrow. The stairways twist vertiginously up up up. There are a few wheelchair ramps in the best Vietnamese resorts but virtually none in Saigon. The Nam Hai, one of the most luxurious resorts in the world, is a minefield of ledges, steps, and drop offs. Even the young and fit stumble and trip there. My guess is that it couldn’t be built anywhere else in any developed country because they couldn’t find a company to write the liability insurance.

Last night I had dinner in an outdoor restaurant. Across the street was a very nice hotel. I counted 33 steep stairs going from the street to the lobby. It is the only way in. So… if the arriving guest gets lucky and finds a bellman to carry his or her luggage up to the lobby he still has to negotiate those 33 stairs without a railing.

In two other restaurants I like, the kitchen is on the ground floor and dining areas are on floors 2, 3 and 4. The wait staff has to hump it up three flights to get the food to the customer and then one, two, three flights down to clear the tables. They do it happily. They really don’t think much about it. That’s the way it is, but I’m thinking about those old professional waiters in France and Germany. They couldn’t do it. In 20 or 30 years when the population starts to have knee and hip problems, so will the wait staff and the customers. You see it already with a lot of people who can’t manage the steep, narrow, curving stairways without banisters or handrails. Yikes!

I owned a restaurant once and I grumbled when I had to install a handicapped bathroom. Our total space was just 1000 square feet. The restroom took up about 10% of the total. Once it was in I forgot about it, and although it got very little use from wheelchair customers it was the right thing to do. Vietnam isn’t there, but it will have to deal with stairways, curbs and bathrooms in the future. Until then, just think about the exercise value of living vertically – while you still can.

Risk Management

Howard Hughes was afraid of germs (and so is my wife). His fear drove him to extremes. Sometimes I think it’s doing the same to her. Living in Saigon, I think she has better reasons but he wouldn’t touch doorknobs and eventually he removed himself, as much as possible, from all human contact. He was managing risk. He was a nut case, but we all do it to one degree or another.

For a Western expatriate, Saigon can be a challenge in risk management. Yesterday, a friend told Marilynn that she was surprised and appalled to find out that her house cleaner was “cleaning” all the surfaces in her bathroom with water from the toilet. A less extreme case was our discovery that our household help was washing all the dishes with cold water. That is more understandable when you know that most Vietnamese houses don’t have hot water. Cold water is the only kind available so naturally everything, clothes, dishes, and bodies are washed with cold water. Even when we told her to use hot water for the dishes she had a hard time complying because she said it burned her hands. She didn’t perceive any risk from bacteria and she thought it was too expensive to use hot water. Sidewalk food vendors have a bucket of water that they use to wash dishes and utensils. They use the same water for hours. It may not be the food that gives you stomach cramps. It could be the dish it’s served on.

Newcomers to Vietnam are advised not to eat uncooked fruits and vegetables. Human and animal waste is used for fertilizer and the luscious looking greens provided for your Pho might not be so luscious 6 hours later. After awhile you begin to know which restaurants are safe and can be counted on to wash their vegetables. Vegy is the name of the product used to insure their cleanliness. When asked most people will tell you that everyone gets sick occasionally. You do build up immunity over time, but no Westerner would drink water from the tap. I have been lucky and eat almost everything except fresh greens from street vendors. Marilynn has been less fortunate and doesn’t even brush her teeth with tap water.

Multinational companies almost uniformly forbid their expat employees from driving a car or riding ON a motorbike. At the top level they provide a car and driver; at lower levels they pay for taxis. It’s another risk management strategy. It makes sense. I see a motorbike accident almost every day. With 10 million people and almost as many motorbikes the streets are chaotic and the traffic rules unclear. Motorbikes use the sidewalks, drive up one way streets the wrong direction or two-way streets on the wrong side. Taxis make U-turns on the busiest streets in town and red lights are only cautionary.

Crime is another issue and a difficult one to risk manage. At first, we were relieved to know that there is almost no violent crime in Vietnam – no guns. On the other hand there is plenty of petty street crime, mostly purse snatching, so the risk management strategy is to be alert, walk close to buildings and not close to the curb, and to carry your purse or laptop on the inside not the street side of the sidewalk. Nothing is perfect, however, and last week we heard a story from a friend who had her purse snatched while walking in the middle between her boyfriend and another friend. The thief got away with the goods and when the three of them went to the police they were told to forget it. Our friends, who are fluent in Vietnamese, using the Find My Phone app, showed the police exactly (within 13 feet) where her phone was – in a used mobile phone shop. The police again refused to help. I have another blog post about the police, but Marilynn is afraid I will get run out of the country before our planned departure. Watch for the blog later in the month.

Expect the Worst; Remember the Best

Take a good look at this picture. Wide-body aircraft cabin, spacious seating, smiling flight attendants and so on. Remember this picture the next time you climb aboard. I doubt that it’s the picture that will stay with you after the flight. It may not be appropriate for a man to discuss childbirth, but I can’t get its analogy to long distance air travel out of my head. The conventional wisdom is that a woman’s pain during childbirth recedes and is replaced by the pleasure she receives from the child. I can’t speak to that experience personally, but I can tell you that something inexplicable and similar happens to me with respect to very long passages in an airplane.

In today’s unregulated airline industry it’s all about the bottom line and bottom lines are all about filling airplanes. I respect the profit motive but I’m old enough to remember when airlines and trains were regarded as public utilities. Regulation insured that our transportation system provided service to all markets and that the carriers received a reasonable return on investment. There were public policy reasons to subsidize remote markets and the distribution of routes assured that airlines were treated fairly and equally. At least that was the rationale.

In 1977-78 Alfred Kahn, Chairman of the Civil Aeronautics Board and a Cornell economics professor, led the effort to deregulate the airline industry. From that point on passengers were collateral damage as airlines competed against one another in a free market setting to fill the seats. It took awhile to figure out what worked best for the bottom line but the end result was decreased capacity and higher load factors.

Today it is rare to fly anywhere in an airplane that is not packed full. Gone are the days when you might be able to stretch out across two or three seats. The current situation makes transoceanic travel nightmarish. Last week my wife and I flew from Seattle to Seoul, Korea, and on to Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. Seattle to Seoul was 11 hours and 40 minutes in the air. Seoul to HCMC was another 4 hours and 45 minutes.

I work for an NGO (non-governmental organization). We do not have the money or inclination to provide Business Class travel for our staff. Our money goes to projects and programs that benefit needy populations. I’m almost six feet tall, physically fit and not overweight. Still, I’m miserable when I have to twist like a pretzel into a transoceanic aircraft seat and then squeeze even more to wedge myself into a seat in the Asian configuration. You see, in Asia people are smaller so more people can be crammed into the already overcrowded aircraft cabin. I cannot sit upright in the Asian configuration even when the seat in front of me is in the upright position – never mind when it is reclined. I have to sit side-saddle for 5 hours.

The worst part however, the childbirth part, is the 11 hours and 40 minutes over the ocean. There is no way to avoid the pain, discomfort, and misery of having your ass strapped into any kind of seat for almost 12 hours. Add to that the dehydrating effect of recirculated moisture-less air and the craziness factor rises exponentially. All the travel experts recommend that you get out of your seat every hour and walk the aisle, stretch your arms and legs, and drink plenty of water. Easily said. I try, but I haven’t found it that easy to unstrap from my middle seat, wake and excuse myself to my sleeping neighbor who has to get up to let me out, and then walk the aisle avoiding food and beverage carts, duty free sales, and free ranging toddlers 11 times on the way to Seoul. I do try, but if I get up 4 or 5 times it’s a victory. The rest of the time I suffer, but like childbirth the pain and suffering recedes over time and I continue to travel across 15 time zones two or three times a year. I love it when I get there; I just hate getting there.

Income Inequality – Saigon Style


This woman didn’t want me to take her picture, so I snapped a quickie as I was walking away. What you can’t see is a pile of sorted cardboard, soda cans, water bottles, plastic bags, and styrofoam – her “products.”

This is private enterprise in Vietnam. Each morning this woman and others like her hit the streets of Saigon with their two wheeled carts looking for anything they think can be reused or recycled. In the afternoon, with her cart overflowing, this lady stakes out a piece of sidewalk near our apartment and begins breaking down boxes, sorting, and stacking the assortment of things she has collected. When she is finished with that task she neatly loads the cart and pushes off down the street. I don’t know where she unloads and I don’t know who buys the products but every afternoon she is there, kneeling on the sidewalk, sorting a fresh accumulation of items gleaned from street side trash containers. Her civil service counterpart is a corps of orange suited women who patrol the same streets with large orange carts picking up street side garbage in plastic bags from neighborhood door steps. Everything that can be recycled is separated out and given a new life.

I don’t have hard data but I doubt that the trash/recycle woman makes more than $1 a day for her labor. I guess this is what American conservatives have in mind when they talk about dismantling Social Security, getting people off the dole, and exhorting the poor to “pull themselves up by their own bootstraps.” In Vietnam there is no safety net. The family is their Social Security system and if there is no family there is no safety net. Men and women in Vietnam work until they no longer can. There is no expectation that at a certain age they won’t have to work. They know that at some point they won’t be able to and that is the age of retirement. Meanwhile, the streets are increasingly full of Mercedes, BMW’s, Audi’s, and Porsches. The wealthy in Vietnam are showy. The streets are so clogged that cars can rarely exceed 20 mph, but sleek, fast, luxury cars are everywhere and the people inside are wearing Gucci, Versace, and Jimmy Choo. There is a small emerging middle class in Vietnam, but the most noticeable change in recent years is how fast some people are getting wealthy while the poor continue to struggle.

Occupy Wall Street seems to be fizzling in the US but I think the point has been made. A society that tolerates huge disparities in wealth is an unhealthy one. The family may be a healthier safety net than programs like Social Security, but there must be a middle ground when the rich are increasingly self indulgent and the elderly are homeless and hungry.

Now Read This…


For three years I haven’t read anything, fiction or non-fiction, that didn’t have something to do with Vietnam. I was looking forward to reading about something or someplace new, but it wasn’t a chore when I got sucked into reading Angie Chau’s book Quiet as They Come. She’s a new and compelling voice. It’s hard to pull away once the Vietnamese bug catches you. Vietnam is a deeply fascinating place and culture. Working there made it even more so. It has a rich and complicated past, a messy, energetic, present, and a hope fueled future. In between, there is the Vietnamese diaspora. That is what Angie Chau writes about – the Vietnamese-American immigrant experience.

Angie is a child of the diaspora. She was born in Saigon, left Vietnam when she was 4, was raised in San Francisco, graduated from UC Berkeley and earned a Master’s in Creative Writing from UC Davis. Her book of short stories, Quiet As They Come, chronicles the life of a group of Vietnamese immigrants living in a house in the Sunset District in San Francisco.

I don’t know Angie well. We’ve exchanged a few emails and we just missed each other in Saigon last month. I left for Seattle just as she arrived to promote her book, meet new people, and connect with the culture her family left behind. Andrew Lam, another terrific Vietnamese-American writer, introduced us. I was curious when I read her bio and bought the Kindle version of her book right away. It’s compelling. There are echoes of Andrew’s Perfume Dreams, and I was reminded of Robert Olen Butler’s Pulitzer Prize winning A Good Scent from a Strange Mountain.

I’m astonished at how resilient the people of the diaspora have been. They have made lives for themselves in other parts of the world – leaving their homes in Vietnam with nothing, risking everything to get somewhere unknown, and then building lives for themselves and their children in foreign places. I want to shake every child of privilege I know when I feel his or her complacency and sense of entitlement. I shouldn’t be surprised; it’s all they have ever known but I’ve come to know many children of Vietnamese immigrant parents who are stunning examples of how hard work and focus can deliver the American dream. It’s only 37 years since the fall of Saigon and these families have relocated, learned new languages, found jobs, saved their money, bought homes and sent their children to college. I often wonder how I would do in their place.

Angie Chau reminds us of what it was and is like. I can’t wait for her next book.