Jeune Street

The handful of regular followers of this blog might notice it veering off into the personal. It may find it’s way back to the old themes, but in the meantime I’ll be sharing bits and pieces (and eventually some photos) about Vietnam.

Lita and I arrived on in Da Nang on Monday evening. She’s working with a small research group conducting a qualitative study of childhood poverty, looking at how children cope with adversity. I’m tagging along and keeping up my job at the 21st Century School, doing research work by distance.

Da Nang is the third largest city in Vietnam, and oddly it’s not a tourist destination at all. Most guidebooks advise against spending any time here. But it’s a lovely city and despite the lack of obvious tourist attractions it buzzes with life, the city is clean, there is beautiful scenery, and the food is terrific. It seems to be a great place to live, even if it wouldn’t be altogether satisfying for the one or two-day backpacking visit.

We stayed the first couple of nights in a hotel at the centre of the city, which worked for us to begin with. After sleepless nights packing and studying for exams and 24 hours of sleepless travel, we collapsed soon after arrival and sank into an 18 hour coma.

Vietnam is much more exciting fully rested. The city pulses with an unhurried chaos. Bougainvillea trees run up and down both sides of the streets, lending a quaint atmosphere to the busiest intersection. Mopeds and motorcycles swerve without regard for traffic lanes or lights, everyone honking, noone crashing. And they do all of this at snail speed. Despite the hundreds of cycles buzzing past, one could walk confidently across the street without fear of being hit — everyone is moving slow enough to dodge unexpected objects.

Everything is oriented towards the street. Storefronts don’t have doors, and even the posh sunglasses shops are fully open to the passersby. Cafes spill over to the curb, with men hunched over game-boards while they sip sweet, thick coffee. Fruit smoothie vendors and motorcycle parking fills up the sidewalk space. Walking down the street involves weaving into stores, over tree roots, onto the road, and back again. Bars seem to be oriented to allow their patrons to take in this drama — people don’t sit around the tables, they line up in seated rows to gaze out onto the street. City life is a public spectacle.

We’re still settling into our temporary life here — six weeks in Da Nang, and then off to explore Cambodia and Thailand. As with any new place, we are gradually expanding our mental map of where things are and how to get the daily basics: food, coffee, toilet paper, mangoes. Ordering food has been an adventure into the unknown, with the guarantee of a surprisingly delicious ending: some combination of noodles, seafood, herbs (basil, lemongrass, mint, etc.), and soup. I can’t yet say the same for Vietnamese coffee, which is made into a syrupy espresso. But the mangoes redeem any unlikely culinary shortcomings.

After spending two nights at a downtown hotel, we have now moved into a studio flat in a beach-front guesthouse. We have our own private bedroom and living room/kitchen and bathroom, but share the hallways and entrance with a group of amiable young Malaysians who work here during the day on software for a mobile phone company.

We’re looking forward to meeting more Vietnamese friends at the Baha’i holy day celebration on Friday — part of the Festival of Ridvan, a celebration of the inauguration of the Baha’i Faith in Baghdad in 1863. The day after the Ridvan celebration, Vietnamese from all over the country will converge on Da Nang for their National Convention, when the National Spiritual Assembly is elected in secret ballot by local delegates.

I have yet to take any photos, but be assured that they will be soon to follow. Vietnam is too beautiful to keep to ourselves!