The Bus Number 5

I will now tell you the story of my experiences on The Bus Number 5, the bus that goes between Bien Hoa and Ho Chi Minh City. 45 minutes at its best, x minutes at its worst. (Two hours is probably a reasonable maximum.) 20 miles/35km.

My bus ride to HCMC was pretty smooth, about an hour. I even managed to get to the bus station with only the slightest hiccup – my (apparently) money-hungry taxi driver decided to drop me off PAST the bus station. He even pointed out the bus station to me, and so I thought we were going to some carpark at the back or something. Erm, apparently not. Oh well, fifteen minutes walk and one friendly guard guy later, I found the bus station, and even the Bus Number 5. I asked the lovely conductor if it's going to the zoo (where I was advised to get off), he said yes, and when it was my stop he beckoned me off. Cam on anh :)

Empty bus station

I was adviced my one of the Vietnamese girls at my centre to get the bus 19 after getting off at the zoo. I got off the bus, looked around, saw another bus, and lo and behold, it was bus number 19. Superbly smooth. :)

My directions

My bus ride back to Bien Hoa wasn't as smooth. Haha. Firstly, I had got three different sets of advice about where I should catch The Bus Number 5 – the zoo/the bus station/Ben Thanh market. Out of those, the market was by far the closest. I did think suspicious that, if the bus actually left from the market, that woulda meant two very knowledgeable people had been wrong... However, the market was the easiest, so, stupidly ignorantly and optimistically and naively (and lazily), I crossed my fingers and walked to the market. Nope, no bus 5. Obviously. And no one was very helpful (not blaming them, just my inability to speak their language :( ). A xeom driver came to talk to me so I accepted his offer (he was offering to take me to Bien Hoa, I said haha no, zoo please). In any other case I would've just found a bus to take me to the zoo, but it woulda taken too long - it was about five o'clock and I knew the last bus goes at five something...

He took me to the zoo. The problem is that the zoo is big. And I had no idea which side of the zoo my bus would be leaving. The driver kept asking me where to stop me, I had no idea, so when we seemed to be getting a bit further away, I got him to stop. I wandered about looking for a bus stop, to no avail, so I went to talk to this guard guy at a nearby fancy building. As usual, guard guys don't speak English, and they are hesitant to even try and understand your mimings of a bus and talent in Vietnamese numbers. (5 is NAM in Vietnamese, with a high intonation.) Luckily there was a student-girl he beckoned over, who very friendlily told me that bus number 5 does not go in this district, just bus 6. Did I want bus 6? No, I didn't. Ok, great. Still, after a chat she looked up bus timetables on her phone and then suggested I walk down the street and that the bus 5 should be coming at some point. Still a bit confused what happened there, but so I made my way over and down this very busy road. I found a bus stop, and, fingers crossed and many prayers said, looked at the timetables. Hurrah, bus number 5! And hurrah, it was 17.19, and apparently the last bus goes at 17.30. (Bus times are obviously very, very, very approximate here, but luckily it was on-timeish this time round.)

Yay hello bus number 5!

So, bus number 5. All the other buses in HCMC have lit-up front top bits where it says clearly where they're going, a more modern type of bus. I instantly recognised bus number 5 from the fact that it did NOT have a lit-up front, that it looked like the great-grandfather of all the other buses on the street. It was on a far-away lane, so well in advance I started waving it down. Even as it was switching lanes (“switching lanes” = turning the steering wheel to the right and hoping not many motorbikes/taxis are in the way) I saw the bus drivers confused expression. Another lost tourist...? Why would SHE want to get on this bus...? My (British) friend J from Bien Hoa told me later that a Bus Number 5 had once literally driven past him, not wanting to stop for him... Anyways, this bus didn't stop for me, but it did slow down enough with its doors open so the conductor a.k.a usherer-in could pull me into the bus.

Because, once you get on bus number 5 it is a different world. It was pretty full, and needless to say I was by far the only Westerner. Three massive boxes were stood in one corner, and there was this huge white board thing on the floor that no one was standing on. Dunno what it was, still dunno, nothing too harmful coz when the bus got more packed people happily stood on it.

For once in my life I had thought ahead, and so didn't have to do the stupid-tourist-unknowledgeable-about-the-difference-of-a-500-note-and-a-500,000-note, and had the 15,000 prepared for the conductor (about 40p). Stood for about twenty minutes, then luckily got a seat before it got even more packed.

Picture taken just for you oh fans 

One and a half hours on the Bus Number 5. Hot, sweaty, many people. Bus doors open most of the time (aircon). Every five to ten seconds the bus would make sure everyone stayed awake by beeping the vehicles in front. (It was a loud, 'calming' beep which can't really be described as a beep but... a bellow. Like, if buses bellowed. In a low, old manishly patient way. Very bass.) (And this isn't rudeness, just a way of giving bikers a chance to escape Death By Bus.) (My friend AidZzZ says buses are called coffins with wheels. Stay away from buses, coz unlike bikes they will not swerve or slow down for you.)  

Air conditioning

About half-way through we stopped somewhere random and a man came to pick up them massive boxes in the bus. He and the conductor girl had a happy long chat, then both disappeared, and we were stood there for about fifteen minutes. Even the locals were starting to look outside, confused, though for many it was still very normal – time for a cigarette break etc outside. When we finally did leave, it came as a surprise to some – three guys had to run and catch up with the leaving bus.

After a long, long while we finally arrived at Bien Hoa bus station. Tired of sticky buses, scary motorbike rides and bad directions from others, I decided I would be a strong independent human being and rely on my own legs and walk from the bus station. Googlemaps said 32minutes to the centre (where I was going), that's manageable. Wasn't even too hot since it was past seven in the evening. So I politely refused the MIRRIAD taxiists and motorbike-taxiists offering their services, and tried to walk confidently out the station.

I got about a third of the way when I decided I was lost. I asked for directions, the guy at the internet café replied “it would be easier if you phone your friend and ask her to come meet you” than find the right way, apparently. Aha, ok...

Made it back to the main road which was the last bit which was correct on googlemaps. Ok, I give up, I thought. I'll find a taxi or xeom. But, as always, when you need something, they don't appear. I even wandered into the main area of the big road to see if I saw any taxis. Nope.

Finally someone came to offer me motorbike. I talentedly discussed and haggled it to 20,000, and was about to get on when I realised he hadn't given me a helmet. Ha, no, I need a helmet. I will not go on a motorbike without a helmet. Annoyingly this guy decided to drive next to me for the next five minutes, and after a few polite refusals I went to ignoring him, and he finally accepted the message and left. At this point another xeom-driver, a 'real' one, came over, with a helmet, I thanked heavens and got on. He took me to the centre and I would've happily tipped him with thousands.

Transport is not easy here. It may be cheap, but it is not easy. And apparently googlemaps is not to be trusted in Bien Hoa. I seem to spend about 75% of my time outdoors in Bien Hoa lost.

But, it's all part of the experience eh.

Toodle-oo!

Emzy

xxx

PS Edit: Vocab for future references: BUS in Vietnamese is xe dò. 

Touristing it in Saigon

8.11.2014 Xin chao! Hello from Bien Hoa Food Village once again, the time is tam gieu nam moui sau (with a few accents missing) as I learnt in the awesome Vietnamese lesson I attended on Wednesday.

So, spent most of last week back in my beloved HCMC, Saigon, ah I love you. <3 

Traffic at a cool square near the main HCMC centre

And this time I was able to properly do some of your touristy things, so here goes...

Independence Palace. The home of the president of South Vietnam during the war. Went there with R&K on our tourist day. 

Check out the adorable little telephones!

Garden in the middle of the house. 'house'.

View from the palace

The maps were cool

Radio bunker room

And the park near the Independence Palace. Well cool. 

 Notre Dame. Even HCMC has its own. 

War Museum. I tried to persuade T to come to the museum. “No, I've done it already,” he said. Come on, I said, it's just a museum. T laughed and said he definitely is not doing it again.

Outside the museum

I now do understand why. It was one of those experiences you don't want to start trying to describe since words do not do it justice. Very emotional and... just makes you think why?, and I'm sure well over 50% of all visitors feel like shedding a few tears at some point. The pictures were very graphic.

One did very much judge some guy who walked around the museum in a big hat with 'American' written on it multiple times, taking many pictures with his phone without even putting the loud camera-sound on silent...

Fine Arts Museum. Not that I'm particularly into Fine Arts, I went more to be sociable. Interesting experience though, and especially the outside 'room' (what is a room when it is outside??) was cool. One of the many plusses of Vietnam is that you don't even feel you're wasting money on museums that may not excite you massively – this one cost 10,000 so about 30p. (And even the popular war museum cost just 15,000, just under 50p.)

'Uncle Ho's house'

Bui Vien. Yes, I'd done Bui Vien already – the first street I ever went on two weeks ago, where I had my first ever breakfast and got “moto-bike, moto-bike”-d for the first time. (Ah, so long ago) Bui Vien, backpacker street, love it. With a wide array of restaurants and bars, these sit-outside-on-miniscule-plastic-chairs-and-drink-50p-beers being the most typical. (And I never thought I'd ever drink beer...)

Fire-eating kids as street performers (not Fire eating kids, lol) . Not sure how I feel about that, but he was very talented!

With R (my Lille-friend) and K :) 

Many cool new restaurants/cafés/bars of varying levels of coolness/cheapness/awesomeness. Like the rooftop bar. Apparently the moon looks very different here than what it does in Europe. I wish I'd studied the moon more in Europe. Now my main sense of location-overwhelmement comes from googlemaps. Lol.

One of the many rooftop views <3

Avocado sushi at cool Japanese place

Steamed Notopterus place

Xe oms. Ah well this is an experience. I actually dunno how much locals actually use them, but anyways, motorbike taxis. In most European countries, if a random man comes to pester you with offers to take you on a motorbike ride, stay far, far away. Here, it's the norm way to travel. I was not particularly ready to undertake this new mode of transport with a person I'd never met before, but was persuaded to by my friend E who just matter-of-factly stated that it is by far the easiest, cheapest, quickest way to get around in my situation. I was well paranoid before it, bombarding him with questions like “where do I put my bag?” and “where do I hold on?” and, when about to climb on, “can I touch the driver?” (prior to arrival here in Vietnam I read so many these-are-the-vital-cultural-differences-to-note-with-UK-and-Vietnam so packed with random-ass rules like “thou shalt not show the soles of your feet since that is considered very rude” that I really never know what is 'appropriate' or not). E even kindly negotiated the price for me (never over 30,000!) and, well, suddenly there I was, on the back of a motorbike of a random Vietnamese guy, whizzing through the streets of Saigon, swerving in and out of the traffic, sometimes taking to the pavements to advance quicker. (Literally, here, do not think you are safe from motorbikes anywhere. Ever.)

The closest I can compare it to is a rollercoaster ride. I feel like I'm on a constant adrenaline high here. So much fun. And it is so understandable why people love their motorbikes so much. You can't squeeze between two buses with a car, you can't take to the pavements if you are a car (or a bus). Motorbikes get you places so much quicker. And, in comparison to walking, well, unless you're walking early morning or late night, it is just TOO HOT to walk long distances. (And, additionally, if you're me, you get lost 88% of the time.) (Not that that stops me from trying to navigate my way by foot, over and over again, ending up exasperated and frustrated with myself and my life and the streets.)

My first xeom burn blister, which was popped by another xeom burn blister, it looks even sexier now

Traffic Photos. There you go.

Paradise Pool. L is a keen swimmer, and she discovered this... swimming pool. Except it's not your typical indoor pool, but a paradisey outdoor pool. Closest I have got to the feelings of swimming in this pool was being at Majorca. And I must say, this pool was indeed fancier. (Though hotter. After a while you really had to get out just coz it was so stuffy.)

Ah

Bliss

Condensed milk. Hotel breakfast. This is the milk you get in your coffee in this country if it is not powdered.

Add caption

Being puzzled over the English translations of menus. Or just even the plain menus.

Steamed Notopterus Fish with Green Carbage anyone?

Or maybe just a garlic fried blood cockle?

Feeling vague embarassment for the translators of some English menus.

Erm... I'll pass

Oh and also in hotel rules. Literally out of all the possible words THAT one was left out. Lolololololol.

Oh and one more... Last one, I promise!!

And last but so definitely not least... SINH TOS. I think I've actually overdosed on smoothies a bit. I had to take a break of about 24h. 

Smoothie street stall 

Voila :)

And that is probably a good place to stop. :)

Bizzzzz to y'allsssssss 

Emmmmzzzzzy

xxx

First impressions of Bien Hoa

01.11.2014 evening

Hello from the Food Village from floor 4 out of like 21 at the Pegasus Plaza-building, highest in Bien Hoa. Just survived my first teaching lesson with seventeen over-excited 6-11-year-olds. They basically didn't understand anything I said, but most of them seemed to have fun and each spoke at least a little English so all is good. Trial and error, trial and error. 

So, busy busy. What has happened since I last wrote. 

HCMC

First time spending one million at a restaurant (a group of us :P) 

Still best traffic photo

I spent four nights in HCMC before moving here to Bien Hoa. At our teacher training in HCMC on Tuesday (a general induction for all 35 new teachers based in the HCMC areas), got to meet loads of new teachers and we spent lots of time together that evening and the following day, including walks and Banh Mi (basically a subway sandwich-type deliciousness for a quid), a lot of time enjoying the magnificent live band at a bar called the Cheeky Monkey, exploring the night market and having dinner on various exotic top floors of restaurants. Another crucial moment of happiness was when I crossed a road, and a group of American tourists stranded on the other side of the road asked me “How did you do that!?” Well, just a pro, I guess... * modest shrug * (Ok obviously nowhere near a pro, but I do understand the logistics of crossing a road with no traffic rules.)

Then moved to Bien Hoa. Reality hit. I felt homesick. Except not homesick. Saigon-sick.

Not that I have anything against Bien Hoa (yet at least haha!).

Firstly, I had not completely grasped the fact that I would be having a long induction the day I arrived (Thursday the 30^th), and therefore didn't think twice of staying up late, braving the induction day on a grand total of two hours sleep. (Well, I don't regret it, was an awesome night!) And, well, most of you know I don't respond very well to tiredness.

I arrived by taxi to my teaching centre at about eleven. Had the most exotic lunch ever, Korean (!), where you cooked your own meat on a thingy in the middle of the table and had at least twenty little plates/bowls/baskets of food to pick at.

Brains on a plate

Then immediately begun the induction. The only two new teachers are me and an American guy, McK – from South Carolina, very nice guy, luckily – and so our inductions were quite 'unofficial' which was cool. We found out we'd have lesson observations that evening, and I was ever so glad I had an hour between the induction and observation when I could go to my hotel and sleep...

Secondly, my hotel. Ha. It has grown on me now, but those first hours there, ridiculously sleep-deprived and already a bit stressed, were such a pathetic tragedy, I felt so sorry for myself that it was nearly hilarious. You know when something is so... unpleasant it becomes funny. Especially when you know that it's not actually such a bad situation, it's mostly just in your head. Can be compared to fear as well – when I did the bungee jump, I was frightened out of my wits until I realised that the worst that can happen is that I die, and then suddenly I had progressed beyond fear, and no longer felt it. You get it?

Anyways, I decided to record my tragic state so here goes. (Written in my notebook coz I'd left my computer at school, considering it a much safer place than the hotel...) (Don't worry, positivity will follow! Skip the italics munchkins if you desire only happiness)

'Night at Bien Hoa. Dodgsville Hotel. I am sat on my bed which does not have a sheet (or at least anything I can identify as a sheet) or pillow cases. The walls are musty and if I were the head of a family of particularly large cockroaches, this hotel would be top on my list of future homes. My bathroom has a bucket underneath the leaky tap, and the hotel is nice enough to provide me with flip flops for navigating the soaked bathroom floor.

I am having supper #2, yoghurt and biscuits. Supper #1 was the last bit of food I owned, a Twirl. Not the circumstances I thought I'd be eating it. Went into a supermarket during my ten free minutes, and for the first time got proper culture... exasperation. I am starving, but WTF can I buy. In Europe, a sandwich. Or a salad. Or even a bag of crisps if I were desperate. Here? No thank you, long aisles of uncooked noodles. No thank you, dodgy meat. No thank you, bag of dried something-or-others. And even the fruit just scared me.'

Obviously over-reaction though. I still haven't seen cockroaches (though the reason I'm here and not at the hotel is that the more I am at the hotel the greater the likelihood of me actually seeing one), and what I said is not a sheet is actually a sheet, and the shower is actually better than the one I had at HCMC... (where, btw, I did have a massive cockroachy visitor... luckily there I had a Brave Male in the room next door to help dispose of it... (=dispose of while I stayed as far away as possible) 

Tbf it was very near death...

AND, eternal fear of cockroaches makes me keep my room very very tidy, everything locked up in my suitcase– I doubt cockroaches have the talent of digging through bags yet...

But that was my complaints, now let's go through the positives at Bien Hoa...

:) Increasing chopstickiccal ability! Every single noodle-meal I have eaten with chopsticks. Hurrah!

For example this 

and this

and this! (Whilst writing this) 

:) Pho. The staple lunch. We all had a little crying session yesterday due to the chili. You add it yourself, but some people enjoy sweating their insides out from the hotness... Mine was a mistake. But still, I chose to put that tiny fatal spoonful of chili in my pho, which is an achievement in itself... After my year here I could see myself being more accepting of spicy foods haha!

:) Fellow teachers. Such fun and very helpful and friendly.

:) Y, the Vietnamese girl in charge of taking care of, um, essentials – has taken me to look at a few apartments (but still, should I accept an epic flat for myself for 6m dongs, or try and find a cheaper room in a shared house?) and sorted our bank accounts (a massive plus of being situated at Bien Hoa, took us 15minutes to get a bank account, and most of that was just waiting. The teachers in HCMC itself had a 'nightmare' of 1½hours trying to fill in many, many, many forms...). And that takes us to the next one...

:) First motorbike rides with Y! She lives near my hotel so now three times she's taken me to or fro from the hotel. Great fun, and it's all less scary when you're actually on the bike...

:) The view from our centre. 9^th floor. The hill is this amazing, er, hill with a very funky temple on the top – must visit some day! And, you can even see HCMC's highest building in the distance...

Vietnam is well-known for its wonky horizons

:) COFFEE! How you make coffee here: coffee + sugar + powdered milk + hot water. Surprisingly nice!

Powdered milk is in first Nescafe thing

Anyhoos, I think I'll stop now. Next entry will hopefully be about Vietnamese people. :) 

Next week back to HCMC, to notarise my certificates (not too excited about that) and see friends, including one of my old friends from when I lived in Lille 2009-2010, who is coincidentally coming to HCMC... The world is small. :D

Lots of love

Emmzy

xxxxxxx

PS. Edit: Returned to the hotel. Literally love it more and more every day. They changed my sheets. The sheets I once dared claim were not sheets. LOOK HOW PRETTY THEY ARE.

:)