Antidote to Burnout

Sorry....false alarm

Every time I think about writing about the weather, I tell myself this is a topic I know not much about, and should stay away from posting opinions. But I can't resist posting about the change of seasons. This year, I got caught.

On 17 April when I last posted, the winds had made their annual change of opposite direction, or so it seemed. I am fascinated by the physics of this phenomenon -- it the winds make such a sudden and consistent change, then the seasons should change along with it.

Over the past two years, twice a year, when the wind changed (and it changes almost instantaneously), it stayed changed, and the seasons changed accordingly. This year, it stalled out and changed back. There were very light winds for a couple of days after the 17th, so it seems like the wind never regained its change in direction.

So we remain in the dry season at this point (there are always occasional thunderstorms even in the dry season), and the winds remain out of the east. Sometime over the next month, though, it will change and stay changed, bringing the rainy season.

Meanwhile, it looks like Kevin's shedding dog theory has the upper hand in credibility at this point.

Change of seasons in HCMC

The winds shifted two days ago to now be out of the southwest, the direction of the annual monsoon winds. For the past six months, the winds have been from the east.

The shift this year is occurring 21 days earlier than last year, so we are going to get an early start on the rainy season this year.

Tet Parties

My Tết holidays this year were enjoyed in Dắk Lắk Province at the home of my Vietnamese friend's parents, introduced in this previous posting.  A subsequent posting presented their home as a typical rural Dak Lak house.

Since the Tết Nguyễn Đán season is all about the gathering and visiting of family and friends, we spent many hours at parties before and after the first day of the lunar new year (7 February in this year 2008).  The pre-Tết parties were more lavish large affairs, with a variety of food.  On Tet (the first day of the lunar new year) and the days after, individuals travel around to the homes of relatives, friends, and neighbors.  Since everyone is on the road, dropping in at random unannounced times, the visiting parties are much shorter and don't involve much food.  There are always a beer or two, or a glass or two of rice wine, followed by liters of green tea.  Available at every home, and usually only during the first days of Tet, is a platter of watermelon seeds (hạt dưa) and ginger candies (mứt).

Vietnamese crack open the seeds with their teeth at a rate of one every 5 or six seconds, leaving the shells on the table or the floor.  Since no sweeping is done in the first days of the new year (in order not to sweep out the good luck of the new year), the result is a huge pile of shells on the floor.  I never did get the hang of cracking and extracting the seed in one smooth motion like the Vietnamese do.

The big pre-Tet parties were the real peak experiences for me.  They were opportunities to meet the extended family and friends in one or two parties so that I had familiarity with them in advance of the smaller after-Tet visits.

Since these parties involved over 30 people at each, all of the furniture is removed from the sitting room, and multiple dining mats are put down to receive the food.

Most of these large gatherings used propane gas burners for hot pots of broth, in which the various meats and vegetables were cooked.  I particularly liked the fish and the various pork innards.

Like most Vietnamese meals, the food is very healthy with well-balanced portions of vegetables and grain (rice, of course) to offset the meats.

The guests sit down cross-legged on the floor in a circle around the perimeter of the room.

The younger women and the children sit in the adjacent room.  These were the women that prepared and served the meal.

The great-grandmothers join the men in the main room.  Most of the men are 35 or younger, members of the Vietnamese baby-boom beginning in 1975.  There are very few great-grandfathers remaining in these families.  The ancestor altar always features the portrait of the grandfather or great-grandfather husbands of these grandmothers.  There are also few family members my age, including women.  It turned out I was the second oldest male in the room (at age 61), which was a shock to me since I constantly live under the impression I am still in my thirties (and not out of vanity -- I just continue to think that way -- I still haven't grown up psychologically -- and all of my Vietnamese friends are in their late 20s or early 30s).

I also had the realization that these families came from the northern province of Nghệ An, the birthplace of Hồ Chí Minh.  The men my age might have fought in the American War (my friend told me his father did at the tail-end of the war on the nothern side (he is five years younger than me)), and certainly the grandmothers would have experienced to some degree the French and American Wars.  Like many Vietnamese (and many American veterans), they don't talk about the war years.  On the whole, in my opinion, the Vietnamese are very present and future oriented, and optimistic that the new year brings good luck, so they don't dwell on the past.  When meeting new family members and friends, they would ask where I was from, and the answer that I was an American always brought big smiles and handshakes.

It certainly helped that I was able to keep up with all of the toasts and chugging of beer.  Getting right down to it, the food is only a companion to the real event -- the beer or wine, and the toasting for good luck.

I was down at the "young end" of the party.  The young man next to me is a medical doctor.

No one seems to get really drunk at these events, and Vietnamese do not seem to get belligerent at all when they do have too much to drink.  The smiles never end.

All of these parties end with relaxing around pots of green tea

while the younger women clean up the aftermath on the grass mats.

I am very grateful to my friend for inviting me to his parent's home, where they accepted me like a member of the family.  Even though we do not speak a common language, there was no barrier to the hospitality and love they extended to me.  And these are all people of great humor and sociability -- I was proud to be accepted among them.

Rural Vietnamese farmhouses

Since we visited over 20 families around the Tết (Lunar New Year) season in Đẳk Lẳk, I had an opportunity to see over 20 farm and village houses in this rural province.  The home of my friend's family was very representative of them all.

While their house was the typical masonry (extruded clay block) covered with plaster, many of the houses were constructed of wood framing and rough siding.  In the early 1980s, the government encouraged villagers from poor northern provinces to relocate to Dak Lak and plant coffee.  They distributed the land free but the recipients were obligated to clear the native forests, build a house, and plant coffee trees.  This is very similar to the "homestead" laws in the United States in the late 19th century that settled the western states.  All of the families I met (except for the indigenous "minority" tribespeople) had come from Nghệ An Province (on the coast between Hanoi and Huế).

Because the forests yielded substantial lumber, a majority of the rural houses in these central highland provinces are made of wood on a concrete platform.

The general plan and furnishings of both the wood and masonry houses were pretty much the same, however.

The entry doorway (almost always at the left front side of the house) enters into a sitting room.

The furniture almost always consists of a cabinet below a high wall-mounted altar shelf, a coffee table, one long wood bench, and two wood chairs.  I never saw a cushion in all the houses I visited, including in the city of Buôn Ma Thuột.  The chairs are rather deep in the seat, which can become uncomfortable (for westerners like me, at least) after a half-hour of sitting.  The four young men in the photo were the home's first visitors on the first day of the Lunar New Year (at 3:00 am).  My friend is seated at the front of the photo.  They all went out to visit some other friends at 4:00 am.

This new house in Buôn Ma Thuột shows the same features, but the altar is a very modern adaptation of the normal altar shelf.

The young woman in the photo (visiting her parents from HCMC) is an architecture and design student in my English group, and she designed this house.

If a large party is held, the furniture is moved outside and grass mats are laid down on the floor for dining and drinking.

For normal meals, the grass mats are laid down on the floor of the adjacent bedroom that has ample space in front of the TV set.

There were three bedrooms in my friend's family house, but the beds were all very typical in all of the houses I saw; there are no mattresses, and the grass mats are laid over wood slats.  Mosquito nets are put up each evening (although there were significantly fewer bugs than what I experience daily in Ho Chi Minh City).

Laundry and bathing, with a jug of water to throw over oneself, takes place in the bath house.

Kitchens range from spartan to quite modern, with cabinets similar to western-style kitchen cabinets and countertops.


Much of the food preparation took place outside of the kitchen, however, where it was cooler and there was more light and room to work.  Unlike most of us westerners, Vietnamese are very comfortable squatting to work.

There was only one refrigerator in all of the rural houses that I saw.  In homes in the city of Buôn Ma Thuột, however, the three houses I visited all had refrigerators.

The chicken coop was just beyond the kitchen door, and it surrounded the open-air slot toilet in the concrete floor.

The home of the family's married daughter, a teacher in a large town close to Buon Ma Thuot, featured a front and rear garden, as well as a stocked fish pond for fishing.

Vietnamese are very comfortable sitting on floors for long periods, sleeping in very hard beds, and lounging in hard chairs.  This old westerner adapted well-enough for the ten-day period in Đẳk Lẳk, but my old body is not used to this and I usually had to take a break during meal times to stretch a bit.  From what I see in HCMC city houses, however, urban Vietnamese are buying over-stuffed chairs and couches, although they continue to eat on the floor mats for large gatherings.  Over time, will Vietnamese slowly adapt to western tastes in comfort (and grow bigger, stiffer bodies as a result)?

See this posting on the Vietnamese family I visited for Tet, and this posting on Tet parties.

Vietnamese have taken to helmet use....

Simon over at the Saigon Today blog published a photo today of a Vietnamese fisherman at the beach wearing his motorbike helmet while fishing.

Simon opined that the fisherman was wearing the helmet rather than risk theft of it off his motorbike.

In remote locations, there may be reason for that, but in most city locations, theft of helmets stored on motorbikes does not seem to be a problem (at least yet).  But I do notice people wearing them in places where they are in transit between locations and need to keep their helmet in hand.  For example, if you are going to take a bus trip, you probably need to take your helmet with you so you are prepared for the inevitable motorbike rides at your destination.  Rather than carry the helmets, many people deem it easier just to wear them.

I am always anxious to get the helmet off as soon as we stop the bike, since they are hot and uncomfortable without the wind going by when on the road.  Many Vietnamese seem to have adapted to helmet use quite well, however, and maybe even forget to take them off.

Most Vietnamese (both male and female) have always worn hats when outside to provide a little protection from the sun.  Now that helmet use is mandated, one doesn't carry around both a hat and a helmet, so one is left with the helmet to wear out in the sun rather than a more traditional hat.  I carry around a crushable hat in my pack to cover this situation.

Visiting a Vietnamese family for Tet

The Tết Nguyên Đán season (Tết) in Vietnam welcomes the lunar new year (similar to Chinese New Year), but most importantly, celebrates the family and its ancestors.  Vietnamese, including those from overseas, take this time out to return to the home of their parents or grandparents.  Therefore there is a huge migration of people up and down the country as Vietnamese travel from their work residence to their hometowns.  Most workers are given two weeks or more off for this season, so this time is also recognized as the single vacation time available over the work year.

Almost all manufacturers suspend factory operations during this season, and many small businesses such as restaurants close.  The normally busy markets close for at least four days, if not longer in rural areas.  This means that Vietnamese must prepare for Tet by laying in a stock of food and supplies.  Since home decoration for Tet is also important, this combination of preparing food, buying and installing decorations, and buying gifts or accumulating a supply of "lucky money" gives the preseason the same kind of pleasant anticipation that we westerners usually associate with our Christmas season preparations.  And Vietnamese look forward all year to the reunions with their families and childhood friends back in their hometowns.

To westerners in the cities that must deal with closed restaurants and the hustle and bustle in the markets, Tet can become a burden.  Therefore many expats (many of the them being teachers on a forced vacation) take this opportunity to travel elsewhere in Asia.  Last year, I was in Vietnam for my first Tet season, and I enjoyed the freshness of the experience and the lavish decorations of flowers and lights in downtown Saigon.  The season did go on for too long a time, however, and I missed my normal sources of restaurants and cafés.  I did not look forward to staying in the city again with its energy lost.

This year, I was very privileged to be invited by a Vietnamese friend of mine to travel to his parent's farm in beautiful rural Dak Lak Province, 30-some kilometers out of the province capital of Buôn Ma Thuột.

This became a rare opportunity to see and experience how the majority of Vietnam's population on rural farms live.  The result for me was one of the peak experiences of my life, tempered with the occasional tedium of constant visiting and never-ending food and drink that comes with too long of a season.

We began by leaving Ho Chi Minh City five days prior to the new year.  Since most factories had just shut down, there was a rush of Vietnamese for the buses and trains leaving for the rural hometowns.  We had secured bus reservations in advance, so we missed the chaotic crush at the bus ticket counters.  Normally, my friend would be taking one of the crammed minibuses to Dak Lak, but I prevailed upon him to upgrade a bit to a standard bus operated by Mai Linh so I would have room for my longer legs.  Luggage must also be kept to am minimum, since travel by minibus or motorbike in Vietnam does not allow lugging around much bulk.  Vietnamese travel with very little since they wash clothes by hand daily.  Of course I had my computer and camera, so I was overloaded.  Upon arrival in Ban Me Thout (the former name for Buôn Ma Thuột), we borrowed a motorbike from my friend's uncle and biked the road to the home village with luggage and all on the motorbike.

Vietnamese often say that the country is poor, especially the rural farmers.  In economic terms, this is probably correct.  My friend's family own a hectare of land upon which they grow coffee, pepper, and green tea.  With a harvest of 5 metric tons of robusta green bean coffee annually, they gross only US$10,000 per year at current prices (US$2.05/kilogram).  But this family seems to have everything they need, including a masonry house, home-grown vegetables and chickens, and satellite TV.

In comparison with city families, they sacrifice a level of comfort and extra toys, but their demeanor and hard work indicates they are satisfied with their lives so long as their children successfully graduate from a university and find jobs in the city.  And that is what has occurred for their first three children including my friend, who is now an accountant for a company in HCMC.  One 12-year old child remains on the farm.

We visited many relatives and neighbors in this area, and all homes had about the same level of standard of living.

The family welcomed me with the friendly hospitality characteristic of Vietnamese, and I couldn't have been better cared for.  On the other hand, the main business at hand was execution of the Tet customs, and I was encouraged to participate fully in the activities like a Vietnamese and a member of the family rather than as a western guest with accommodations made to defer to western tastes and comfort.  So much the better from my point of view and curiosity about common Vietnamese life.

The family owns no vehicles other than a motorbike, so I was surprised to see such a large "parking lot" in front of their house.

It was explained that this expanse of concrete is helpful for drying the coffee beans (seeds) after the berry husks have been threshed off.

Lots more to follow in the coming days.....

See this posting on rural farmhouses, and this posting on Tet parties.

Long time no post....

Virtual Doug recently presented several potential reasons for his not posting for a long time on his blog.  Missing the muses was one of them.  I have definitely missed the muses over the past month and a half.  My last posting was just prior to leaving for San Francisco, and now that I have returned to Ho Chi Minh City, I am relaxed enough to get back to the blog.

Doug concluded that he had "stopped observing the world", and I heartily agree that observing the world is perhaps the major impetus to most blog postings.  That is certainly true of Doug and his blog where there have been more interesting observations and profound conclusions about life per inch of posting than any other blog I read (over two hundred a day, not all of whom post daily).

In my case though, I have been accumulating photographs and ideas for blog items, but I simply have not had the desire to write the posts.  Writing is not a natural activity for me -- I really have to work at it and edit many times.  So it does take the prodding of the muses to keep me writing, and when they take a holiday, I stop writing.  And the holidays do take a lot of psychic energy, time, and attention.

Now that the Christmas season is over and I am back in Vietnam, the Tết season is upon us, and it requires some of the same psychic energy, even though I am not directly participating.  The logistics of surviving these long holidays in Asia are a major part of the time and attention taken away from other desirable pursuits.  Of course there are also the emotional benefits and cultural experiences gained from observing these holidays that outweighs all the stress in the end.

This year, I have been invited to the family home of a Vietnamese friend of mine.  We will be taking a long bus ride to the hills of Dắk Lắk Province in central Việt Nam, around Buôn Ma Thuôt, where the famous rich coffee of Việt Nam is grown.  I hope to capture many good photographs and observations, but I don't know that I will have internet access while out in the country.  If not, there will be another couple of weeks of no posting, and thereafter a potential flood of postings.  I am looking for the muses to be back inspiring with a cattle prod.

Architecture over-the-top in Tay Ninh

Probably the most influential book in my life has been The Quiet American (1955) by Graham Greene.  Greene's evocative depiction of Vietnam brought me to ask for U.S. Navy construction posting for a year in Saigon in 1971-1972.  One of the prime plot scenes in the book (and subsequent movie adaptations) takes place in Tay Ninh Province west of Saigon where Fowler goes to observe the operations of General Thế at the Cao Đài Holy See or headquarters.  The key scene of the book occurs on Fowler's return to Sài Gòn when he is forced to stop on the road at night and climb into a guard tower.  Pyle, Fowler's antagonist, finds him there and saves Fowler's life, after telling Fowler that he wants Fowler's Vietnamese girlfriend.

None of the old guard towers along the highway (QL 22) between Tay Ninh exist today, so far as I could see, but the Cao Dai Holy See exists as a huge compound east of the city of Tay Ninh and continues in full glory.  In the book and in actual history, General Thế led a militia of Cao Đài adherents in a third force against the Viet Minh and French-supported South Vietnamese government.

The Đạo Cao Đài (meaning "way to the highest tower") is a highly syncretist religion, described in the Lonely Planet Guide for Vietnam (2005, p. 374) as follows:

Cao Daism (Dai Dao Tam Ky Pho Do) is the outcome of an attempt to create the ideal religion through the fusion of secular and religious philosophies of the East and West.  The result is a potpourri that includes aspects of most of the religious philosophies known in Vietnam during the early 20th century: Buddhism, Confucianism, Taoism, native Vietnamese spiritualism, Christianity and Islam.  The term Cao Dai (meaning high tower or palace) is a euphemism for God.

The Cao Đài Great Temple, built between 1933 and 1955, is highly symbolic of the religion and represents its own syncretist mix of over-the-top architectural styles, beginning with a French Baroque form of temple overlaid with Chinese pavilion detailing, enclosing a Rococo-based interior.

Although I am a modernist architect, I appreciate greatly the imagination and discipline evident in this temple and its construction.  I have been unable to determine the name of any architect, but I respect the knowledge of worldwide architectural styles and the design skills exhibited in this building.

The temple floor steps up in 9 levels representing the steps to heaven.

Since these levels are expressed on the exterior of the temple, a side view of the temple presents an optically disturbing sensation of imbalance or leaning.

The Divine Eye, or Eye of Providence, is a primary symbol of God for the Cao Đài, and is represented in many places in and around the temple, including each window along the sides of the temple.

The eye is also prominent on the front elevation of the temple, as well as the flag.

Globes are also prominent, as shown on the cupola dome above the central altar area of the nave.

In this case, we see the world globe from an odd angle that results in Europe beneath the animal form -- I don't know if this has any symbolism to the Cao Đài.

The front narthex features a mural showing three historical figures signing a "Third Alliance Between God and Man" -- the Chinese statesman Dr. Sun Yat-sen, the French poet and author Victor Hugo, and the 16th century Vietnamese poet Nguyễn Bỉnh Khiêm.

The interior is a true riot of color and symbolic decorative forms, with the ceiling painted to represent the heavens.

The uppermost ninth level features an all-seeing divine eye on a globe suspended above the altar.

The clergy and worshipers are seated on the floor up the initial floor levels, presumably in order of rank or attainment.

Men are seated on the right side (left in the above view), and the women on the left side, entering through separate doors.  Worship services are held four times daily, and tourists are welcomed to observe and take photographs from balconies on each side of the sanctuary.

The primary service attended by tourists is at 12 noon.

Most tourists arrive on tour buses out of Ho Chi Minh City that then head to the Cu Chi Tunnels attraction during the return trip.  We travelled the 96 kilometers from HCMC by motorbike, which I do not recommend.  It took us 3-1/2 hours each way, and that makes for sore butts (like riding a horse all day, I suppose).

Update on viewer interaction regarding modernist vs. historicist residential architecture

Reading through the comments on my posting a week ago requesting viewer interaction about modernist vs. historicist houses, the results so far have three preferences for the modernist house and one vote for the historicist house.  All three votes for the modernist house were hedged with concerns, however.

These results are surprising to me -- I had expected more votes for the historicist design since I am guessing that most people (at least in western countries) grew up in some kind of historicist or historical pastiche house or building.  These kinds of houses are like "comfort food" (this is what grandmother or mother used to cook -- this is NOT the kind of food that gourmets or critics think is good [although they like it]) -- historicist designs are what we usually see as homes in the west, and they leave evocative emotional responses.

The most recent comment was the most thoughtful and left many questions to me to answer.  Although the most interesting reading in many blogs is the reader comments, I suppose most readers don't click through to the comments, particularly readers using RSS or feed readers.  Therefore I will bring up this last comment and post it again for purposes of further discussion here.  This meaty comment is from Simon Kutcher of the blog Saigon Today, publishing daily photos of life in Vietnam.

"Regarding the choices, the modern house will have the better light and this (should) lead to better living space inside. My problem with a few of the ones around our area is that they can be a mishmash of styles and colours that do not always look like they go together. This one though I like.

"The historicist style shown is daunting. It looks like it belongs in a much colder climate than HCMC. It must be extremely dark inside. While the French colonial styles probably need more horizontal space, I would be interested in seeing if any new houses are attempting to replicate it. I would also be very interested in seeing a greater exposé of the historicist style done well, or a blend styles dene well for that matter.

"I drive through Nhiêu Lộc everyday and the thing that disappoints me is that with so many styles all next to each other, the streetscape can become extremely muddled and fractured. This does not suit my tastes but I was hoping to get an opinion from someone with some experience. There was a great planning opportunity wasted there I reckon. Cheers"

Simon prefers the modernist house since it appears to let in more light and he is averse to the historicist house because it may be dark inside.  Actually the style of most townhouses in Vietnamese cities is only expressed on the front facade and is perhaps carried through in the interior design.  Since the longer side walls and back wall are on property lines and have no windows, these houses are all really like caves, which require artificial light at all times and air conditioning.  The best of these houses have enough length so that interior courtyards can be added in the middle to provide a light well and ventilation.  On the front facade, modernist designs probably do provide more glassy area to let in light, but not always.  In new urban areas like Phú Mỹ Hưng in South Saigon, many house lots are large enough to build villas with enough space around the house to have plenty of windows in either style.

Both old modernist townhouses in Ho Chi Minh City as well as French colonial villas have many grilled openings at the tops of each floor story to allow natural ventilation.  Contemporary modernist architecture usually makes good stylistic use of these openings.  The French colonial style was a very good adaptation to the tropical climate with these ventilation grills and hooded openings, as well as overhanging roof eves and shuttered windows.  This style was most commonly applied to villas on larger pieces of land since there was little impulse to go vertical in those days.  I would love to see some adaptation of the French colonial style to a four or five-story narrow townhouse, but I don't remember seeing any, and I do not have any photographs of any.  It is interesting to me that most historicist styles applied to townhouses or villas in Vietnam are not French colonial, but rather are usually a mishmash of classical and European styles, like this example:

Simon recently published this photo

of what I call a contemporary historicist design on his blog, and many commenters had difficulty characterizing the design, with some consensus coming down to "Holland" architecture.  And there certainly is no adaptation to the tropical climate in this design.

Although I have an obvious published bias to modernist architecture, there are times when I do appreciate historicist architecture -- contemporary houses which use historical styles -- and I really love the old historical French colonial villas.  This example of historicist architecture appeals to me:

Maybe because it is covered up with plants, this design is restrained and is simply evocative of coziness and warmth.  Historicist applied decorations have not been added just for sake of imparting status to the owner.

In the following example, subtle historicist design references have been added to a plain structure to create a well-balanced elegant composition.

What I am particularly concerned about, however, is Simon's suggestion that good planning would dictate that all the houses along a street or in a neighborhood be of the same or similar style that all work together.  Walking along the villa streets of Phú Mỹ Hưng where all the villas are exactly the same is not one of my favorite activities.  After you see the first house, there is no need to continue walking down the street.    I am more interested in seeing the choices that people have made in the design of their houses, whether their choice be modernist or historicist.  It is important to me that each house be a well-resolved composition and interesting idea, no matter the style.  Then each house is seen as an object in a gallery of objects.  I don't like going to art galleries which only display one artist doing variations of the same idea, style, and technique in each painting.  I like an art museum that exhibits a progression of different ideas over time.  I think neighborhoods should be galleries showing the different times in their histories.  The old French colonial villa on the corner should not be torn down, but should be restored.  It is OK that a contemporary modernist townhouse is built next to it expressing the realities and ideas of our current times.  And next to that, someone might have built a faux-alpine chalet villa, showing their choice of values.  And next to them probably stands a "classical' modernist design from the mid-20th century.  Walking along such a street I am highly stimulated by the story (or mystery) each house has to show.

This is a very free market idea, isn't it, which is surely a mark of the current economic and social times of HCMC.  Can you imagine what a plan promulgated by the Ministry of Construction in Hanoi might dictate?  Most of the houses in Hanoi are all of the same historicist pastiche painted in the same ochre color.  That is why I chose to live in Saigon when I originally planned to live in Hanoi.  China has dumbed down most of its cities doing the same thing.

The times today are muddled and fractured, no matter where you live in the world.  There are good sides to this as well as bad sides.  But I think this is a very interesting time to live, with many new opportunities to use technology and layers of ideas to express and make sense of our muddled times.  But bureaucrats and large planning firms aren't going to come up with these ideas.  These ideas, like good contemporary or avant-garde art, comes from individuals making good choices for specific situations.  Architects and builders in Ho Chi Minh City are not on the cutting edge of contemporary architecture.  But they do produce very elegant designs that reflect the good tastes of their clients, and their differing new houses along the streets of HCMC reflect the economic and intellectual vitality of the city.

I realize that many people prefer a more ordered approach to urban planning and architecture, and they want to look at the city as a whole, or suburban developments as a whole, or streets as a whole, rather than as individual statements that don't unify as a whole.  I believe there should be choices available so we can all find environments to fit our individual tastes and life-styles.  But I think it is clear by now that the inner city districts of HCMC will not accommodate an ordered approach.  On the other hand, the new urban areas can and often do.

Increasing retail sophistication in HCMC

Over the past two years in Ho Chi Minh City, I have noticed an increasing sophistication in the presentation of new retail concepts.  Most of this increase seems to be centered on new services to the growing numbers of middle-class families of Saigon.  Like families in America, Vietnamese urban middle-class families have both the father and mother working outside the home.  Childcare centers are readily available in the neighborhoods, so the next task is to spend quality time with children off work hours, and to make the home more comfortable with attractive decorations and furniture.  Like hectic middle-class families elsewhere in the world, Vietnamese urban families are looking for services to take away some of the normal hassle of household maintenance.

While this first photo is not a store, it does illustrate the kind of service available now that otherwise would be the function of an extended family.  The kind of service this company provides supplements what a family can provide and possibly gives working parents some piece of mind knowing they have provided some extra care for their young children.

This new retail concept recently opened in my neighborhood, and it has taken me awhile to figure out what service it is selling -- what is "family edutainment"?

It seems to offer a high-tech version of a public library, with story hours for small children, tutors for special educational subjects, musical instruction, and motor skills exercise (yoga for kids?).  This new store is located adjacent to the coffeehouse I frequent daily, so I have been gaging its success over the past month it has been open.  Unfortunately, it does not seem to be attracting many customers so far.  As in America, there are economic limits to what middle-class families can outsource to others for a price.  Perhaps it still too early in this market for this level of sophistication, or this location is too remote (it is not on a busy street).

Notice that the graphics and colors of the previous store are important in attracting attention.  As I have said many times previously here with regard to houses and design touches, Vietnamese have an innate sense of good design, and it is taking good design or use of color and graphics to attract and hold their attention.  While the gift shop in the following photo is not in an interesting building, the colors and graphics give it an air of sophistication that is increasingly important in this marketplace.

The idea of a gift shop is also new in the Vietnamese marketplace as middle-class families turn their attention beyond the basics of daily survival to enhancing the quality of their home or their relationships.  This gift shop is not located where you might expect sophisticated boutiques to be located -- on Donh Khoi Street downtown where tourists congregate.  This store is located in the midst of a middle-class neighborhood on Huynh Van Banh Street in the Phú Nhuạn District.

My colossal miscall...

Back on 12 October 2007, I said the rainy season was over since the monsoon wind had changed direction for the first time in five months, which brings the end of the rainy season.

Since then, we have had torrential rains virtually every day, and the forecast is for daily thunderstorms and rain past the next week.  Here is what the Saigon Times Daily said in this morning's article about th weather:

Meanwhile, southern provinces including HCMC, Dong Nai, Can Tho and Bac Lieu were suffering from torrential rains yesterday with rainfall measured at 100-150 millimeters. Pouring rain will continue in the next several days in the southern region.

Yesterday, HCMC suffered severe flooding due to a three-hour downpour. All streets in the city center were flooded, with quite many streets knee-deep, causing traffic congestion in many hours as many motorcycles and automobiles broke down or could not move ahead. High flooding yesterday also overflowed residential areas.

Bear in mind that normally at this time of year, the rainy weather has shifted to the central provinces, along with typhoons.  These provinces have been experiencing record rains and floods, with a great loss of life.  So life is not so bad in Ho Chi Minh City where the flooding has been annoying but manageable.

I plan to stay out of the business of calling the seasons here from now on.

New sewer line outside our front door...

Concurrent with the extended rainy season we seem to be experiencing, workers came to tear up our hẻm (lane) and replace the storm sewer line.  The existing line was not large enough to accommodate the torrential rains, resulting in minor flooding at times.  Therefore the new line is welcome, although it has contributed to very messy conditions outside our front door (and tracked into the house) at times.

In addition to storm drainage, the line also takes the sewage from each of the houses on the hẻm.  Each house has (or is supposed to have) a septic tank under the house which at least takes out the solids prior to drainage into the sewer line.  However, I have rarely seen any pumpers in the neighborhood removing sludge from these tanks, so it is likely that many of the house septic tanks are no longer functioning properly.

After the old line is removed, the new line is installed at a fairly shallow depth, as was the old line.  I never saw the water line, which indicates it is lower than the sewer, which is contrary to safe practice.

The result has been a muddy mess of mud and continuing sewer effluent.

Collector basins are established about every five to eight meters along the hẻm.

Each house sewer discharge (which includes large quantities of storm drainage at times) drains to these collector basins.  Therefore each home owner was required to have his house sewer line rerouted as necessary to the new collector basins.

The collector basins have a concrete cover that also allows hẻm storm drainage into the basins.

The contractor should be back soon to install new paving throughout the hẻm.

Constant construction in the hẻms of HCMC

Kevin over at SaigonNezumi.com often posts about the constant construction around his house in a hẻm (lane) on the other side of the Phu Nhuan District from where I live.  He is usually concerned about the dust, mud, and noise brought into his house by the nearby construction, not to mention the holes that have been knocked into his walls from the house construction next door.

Constant construction seems to the normal condition of all neighborhoods in Ho Chi Minh City today.  It is a mark of the vitality and upward economy of the country that everyone who owns a house is usually in a position at this time to remodel their house, add a floor, redo the plumbing, replace a roof, add a terrace trellis, or tear down a small house and build a taller house in its place.  It may be [I have no means at this time to substantiate this] that people would rather improve the land plot handed down to them by their ancestors within the city than relocate to the new urban areas.  The local newspapers keep stating that the real estate market for existing homes is stagnant, and it very well may be (judging from the many nhà bán (house for sale) signs I see around), but this is definitely not restraining the urge to improve one's residential property.

Everyday, I hear hammering, sawing, and machinery sounds entering my home office, but I have learned to tune them out.  And certainly I do love construction anyway.  Here is a current sampling (all photos taken from my roof terrace) of the visible construction going on around my house (nonvisible meaning interior work that I can hear but not see):

An existing house that was gutted and thoroughly remodeled, including a new roof.

A roof being replaced (in addition to a full-gut remodel below), and a new house beyond that.

A large building being demolished.

and a new building off in the distance.

Although it is a few kilometers away downtown, it has been interesting to watch this new TV tower under construction off in the distance:

The tower is only half-way up so far.

Certainly the construction industry in Vietnam is thriving -- for both large companies and the small neighborhood companies working on the projects in the hẻm.