As always, I must make apologies beforehand for the quality of the photos. I am post-processing them on an old laptop with dubious color at best. As some of you know, I used to live in Viet Nam and still make trips back to visit friends and do some work.
The Vietnamese get up early in the morning. An American friend once asked one of her Vietnamese students to join her for a morning run. In making the arrangements, the student said she would come by the American’s apartment at 6:30 - - then quickly blurted “Oh my goodness! Is that too late?”
And the Vietnamese like to spend their morning hours in different ways. For the people of Hue (say whey), the central Viet Nam city where we are now, and where we used to lived and teach, the banks of beautiful Perfume River provide a peaceful place for the old folks to limber up with Tai Chi exercises.
The wearing of shorts is new to this conservative city – especially by older people. When my wife and I first arrived in 2005, shorts were seen on only foreign tourists and the rare young rebel. Most older people still prefer more traditional garb. These two friends mix the two together well, but they are more concerned with the morning’s conversation than fashion. And no – those are not really pajamas – they just look like pajamas to our western eyes.
Here is a man I understand – I am a morning newspaper kind of guy too, but he has his cup of morning coffee and reads his newspaper alongside the river. The sidewalk café is far enough away from the noisy traffic on the bridge behind him to keep it peaceful. Viet Nam has a very high literacy rate – in fact, it is higher than America’s – and the readers have a wide selection of newspapers to choose from. Of course all of them are published by the government, but some are developing a reputation for independence.
On this morning’s stroll to the river, I went through a small park and saw something I had never seen before – someone sleeping on a park bench. I lived here long enough to know there are people who live on the streets (especially kids), but I had never seen a park used this way before. I think the older gentleman was embarrassed for his country to see the big foreigner with the huge black camera and white lens sitting on a bench nearby, obviously taking pictures of the sleeper, so he sidled over and tried to nudge the lump awake, but with little success. As I passed through the park on the way back from the river, the lump was a wake and looked very disheveled. I hope this is not a harbinger of things to come. I don’t know if the sleeper was a drug addict, and I know drugs are not yet a major problem in Viet Nam – but I would hate to see drugs in Hue.
Finally, there is the poor schmuck who has to get up early and doesn’t have the luxury of a stroll with friends, or a cup of coffee, or morning Tai Chi. This is the guy who must deliver the morning’s good to restaurants and stores. A xich lo (say sick low) driver makes about a dollar a day. Life is hard – and mornings start very early indeed for him because he had to pedal his machine somewhere to pick up this load of coconuts, melons, and vegetables, deliver it, and then spend the rest of the day hoping to pick up a free-spending foreign tourist.
One thing I could count on as I roamed the city early in the morning was that I would not see a foreigner wearing a t-shirt with “
Good Morning, Vietnam” emblazoned on the front. The foreigners were all still in bed.