Millions in my pocket

As I noted in an earlier post, getting used to currency is a necessary early task as one travels from one country into another.

At the airport in Luang Prabang, we were able to exchange our remaining KIP into Vietnamese dong (VND), but were refused a receipt—never a good sign! As it turned out, the exchange rate was almost exactly the official rate though, and the handful of bills gave us an idea about what to expect as we flew to Hanoi.

An ATM at the very modern Hanoi airport spit out four 500,000 VND notes—the per transaction maximum, and roughly equivalent to C$120. Not a lot to count, so I put the 2 million VND into my pocket.

As usual, large denominations didn’t go far: dinner was 142,000; a beer 18,000—and our comfortable hotel room ~400,000 VND per night. We were determined not to be caught short when it came to leaving our Hoi An hotel after nine nights—plus we’d both had several custom shirts made—so we made a point to withdraw enough over several days to have several million VND between us.

All Vietnamese banknotes feature the smiling face of Ho Chi Minh. Large denomination notes have a clear watermarked panel in different shapes for different bills as a feature to help thwart forgeries.

Unfortunately though, the 10,000 and 100,000 VND notes are quite similar. When we left Vietnam, our cash count and record of spending was off by ~190,000 VND. Apparently some Vietnamese are well experienced at noticing the difference: we decided we’d almost certainly given a couple of people a 100,000 note instead of a 10,000 note, and not realized that the change tendered was short.

Oh well… chalk it up as a C$11 lesson!

Saigon solution: Medical tourism 101

Imagine being gripped with a major pain in the jaw, which intermittently throbbed and threatened to take your head off… and then just as suddenly disappeared.
Ow.
That’s what I’d been feeling for months. Over-the-counter pain relief drugs were no longer stopping the sometimes stabbing feeling… What was it?
No sooner had we settled into Saigon’s quiet Hoang Phong Hotel than I said to Eric: “Let’s find a dentist.” In moments, he’d fired up the Internet and found West Coast International Dental Clinic -- a ten minute walk from the hotel. It was 19:00 on Thursday, March 18.

Katharine at the West Coast Clinic.

Once inside the immaculate clinic, I felt reassured that here in Saigon, I could find excellent care. Fluent (in English) receptionists asked how they could help. Immediately I was whisked into an examining room – where Eric was also made comfortable.
Dr. Andrew Tsang, originally based in Vancouver, entered. After after enquiring about my symptoms, he took x-rays and examined my tooth with a focussed blue LED light, which revealed a bad fracture in the second-last molar on my right, lower jaw. Would the tooth need to be extracted? Or, could an attempt be made to save it, if the fracture proved not too deep? He was unsure and booked a second appointment with a colleague.

X-ray after cleaning out two of the four root
canals in Katharine’s tooth.

To make a longish story short, the procedure which followed took three more visits. Dr. Diem welcomed me into her office the next morning at 10:00 at which time she agreed with Dr. Tsang’s diagnosis. She recommended an operation that afternoon at 13:30. Everyone hoped she could save my tooth.
 She did. On Friday afternoon, Dr. Diem discovered my tooth had four roots, two of which were so badly infected she couldn’t complete a root canal… even after two injections. So she packed my tooth and we booked a next day appointment, this time with an anaesthetist.
How many dentists do you know who would relinquish their Saturday day-off to complete an emergency operation for a traveller? Now wonder the same for anaesthetists!
On Saturday morning, an anaesthetist joined Dr. Diem and the two women set to work. After my anaesthetic injection, I awoke with the job completed – and mumbling something about giraffes and zebras jumping about inside my mouth…

Dr Diem completing the root canal procedure.

One more visit allowed Dr. Diem to ensure the temporary crown she’d inserted was okay. It was, and she fully expects it will last until I can either return to her Saigon clinic in November, or to my own Canadian dentist after my return to Canada.
No wonder Dr. Diem told us Saigon aims to surpass Bangkok and Hong Kong as SE Asian medical tourism destinations. While I was there, Eric and I met many international patients – from Canada, Australia and New Zealand.
With superb care, top-of-the-line technology, fluent English, and a hospitable, clean environment, West Coast International Dental Clinic has my vote of confidence. And the price? A third of what the procedure would have cost in Canada, not even counting the anaesthetic.
Medical tourism? Why not? With prices at home rising and queues lengthening, it makes sense to consider going to a country where professional assistance can be obtained quickly, relatively inexpensively – in a destination worthy of exploration, to boot!

Diving dilemma

I like scuba diving, but prefer snorkelling. Scuba takes a lot of preparation and special equipment—and having dived in some superb locations and conditions, too many of my more recent scuba dives have been disappointing. Besides, Katharine is a good snorkeler, and it is much more fun doing something together.

We’d hoped to take a boat to snorkel at the Cham Islands near Hoi An, but a storm churned up the water. Fortunately, the dive operator in Hoi An told us the visibility would be disappointing, so we didn’t waste time or money.

The islands near Nha Trang were supposed to be even better, so we checked out several operators there and signed up to go out for a day trip with Rainbow Divers.

Our boat left the docks first, but as we anchored, a whole fleet of others were approaching. By the time we were in the water, a dozen or so dive boats had attached themselves to the few permanent anchors. It was quite apparent that this would not be the pristine location we’d hoped for.

We’d been fitted with wetsuits—hardly necessary in the warm water, but they kept the jellyfish from stinging and the sun from burning. We had a good time snorkelling, and the water was fairly clear with 8–10m visibility.

The trip was supposed to have dives at two different sites, but after a snack of fresh fruit, the boat was moved to the second site—only a hundred metres or so from the first! We were annoyed, because it meant we had to repeat much of our earlier exploration to get to new territory, so really didn’t see as much as we’d hoped.

But I was very glad we were not amongst the divers: not only was the bottom messed up from too many boats, but it was fairly featureless below 8–10m, with no sign of the ledges or underwater cliffs shown on the promotional material. The best coral and fish were in the 1–4m depths: well within our range, but all of the scuba divers were operating in the deeper water.

Where we went—Mun Island in the Hon Mun Marine Park—is a popular diving destination near a very popular resort city, so perhaps it isn’t surprising that an ad hoc dive trip would be less than stellar. However, it does reflect on both the operator and the region when expectations are not met.

Perhaps the local operators and the Hon Mun Marine Park managers should work out a different system to spread the boats around a bit more—or limit the number that can operate in a given area.

If I was still a serious scuba diver, I would do a lot more homework before signing on to a dive trip here.

Night(mare) bus to Nha Trang

We’d flown to Hoi An from Hanoi to avoid a long overnight train trip, and had initially thought we might fly to Nha Trang, our next destination further south.

However, this would mean getting back to Danang by taxi, then getting another taxi into Nha Trang. We decided to try a sleeper bus instead.

Well, it didn’t turn out to be quite as advertised: instead of the 2/1 arrangement we’d expected, it was three rows of bunks! There was room to squeeze down the aisle—barely—and the seats did not recline. Instead, each bunk was like a recliner chair with a caged area for feet providing the pillow support for the person in front.

When the bus pulled up to our hotel, Katharine asked the driver: “You do have a bathroom on board don’t you?” “Yes, yes!” He wasn’t terribly friendly and seemed to want to get moving.

Wrong question: she should have asked if the bathroom was functioning. In large letters that looked like they’d been there for quite some time: ‘Toilet not working’!

It went from bad to worse. The bunks were arranged three across, two up – and resembled coffins in width and length. But less than an hour into the 12 hour trip, a passing truck kicked up a stone. Bang! Glass was all over me and several people around me as the window exploded. The driver did stop, but after a cursory inspection—and letting more of the broken glass fall out onto the road—he hopped in and continued!

We were only on the bus to Nha Trang—a 12 hour ride—but several young women were on for a full 24 hours to Saigon. When I approached the driver to tell him that sitting in glass with an open window would not be acceptable, he just shrugged. “Ten minutes! Don’t worry!”

Half an hour later, we did stop, and a group of local people helped install a series of plastic panels with several rolls of packing tape as a makeshift window. Only at the urging of many passengers did they agree to take out the seat cushions and bang out the glass.

The temporary window held to Nha Trang, but it was the worst bus ride either of us have ever experienced.

Several people in Nha Trang shook their heads about it. Apparently this particular bus company—T.M. Cafe—is well-known for shabby equipment catering to backpackers—mostly young people—who seldom complain. We thought it was a shame, because many of them will end up having a very distorted view of Vietnam because of this quite atypical behaviour.

Sadly, the price was not substantially lower either: for a few dollars more, good buses with comfortable sleepers and decent shock absorbers can be had.

We have let our hotel know that their choice of bus operator was totally unacceptable—and have steered several other people away from T.M. Cafe.

Silk shirt extravaganza

I like silk shirts. Silk feels good against my skin, and can be warm in the cold or cool in the heat.

Hoi An is renowned for its tailors—and especially for silk garments—so I decided to have a couple of shirts made.

“Long sleeved, very nice colour… for you twenty-five dollar!” The seamstress at Kimmy Tailor measured me in lots of different places. “Come back tomorrow for fitting!”

I loved the rich colours we’d chosen, but both Katharine and I were not so impressed with the tailoring. The seams were not straight, and the pocket was a bit crooked. “No problem! We fix it… come back tomorrow!”

Friends we’d met had raved about a different tailor, so instead of ordering blouses for Katharine from Kimmy, we went to Yaly Couture. The selection of cloth was better, it was busier, we liked “Lydia” who did the measurements—and the price was the same. We ordered two blouses for Katharine, with fittings the next day.

Meanwhile, my shirts were ready at Kimmy’s and the problems had indeed been fixed. A custom fitted shirt feels fantastic, and I liked them so much I decided to order two more of the same style in different colours. “Ready tomorrow mister!”

The next day at Yaly’s, it was clear that they were the more professional outfit: Katharine’s blouses were loosely tacked in several areas to allow for adjustment, and the buttons and holes had not been cut. Lydia fitted each one expertly, and told us to come back later the same day for the final fitting.

We picked up my shirts from Kimmy’s and then Katharine’s from Yaly’s. No comparison: although the Kimmy ones were well made and fit properly, the Yaly blouses were much better made.

Katharine looked at me and shrugged. “Well Eric, if you want more, now is the time to do it…”

And that is how I ended up with eight custom-tailored silk shirts from Vietnam! Guess I’ll be okay for shirts for a few years…

Tip: If you have an item of clothing you really like, bring it. The tailors excel at copying, and can make any adjustments you may need. Allow 2–3 days to have items made—but additional items with the same pattern can be made in most places in a day. The biggest cost variable is in the quality of the cloth: labour is cheap, so spend a bit more for top quality cloth.

Postal service, Vietnamese style

We just sent off a big box of stuff we’d been collecting since Laos.

When we asked about getting a taxi to get our collection of bags to the post office, Anh at the front desk laughed. “Oh no, they will come here!” Sure enough, within half an hour, a woman from the post office arrived at our hotel with scales, tape, and a large cardboard box.

What we had wouldn’t fully fit in the box, but that didn’t deter her. She packed what she could into it, taking care to keep fragile items inside and well protected. Then she taped the remaining items—a bunch of silk lanterns—to the top so she could finish the job at the post office later.

The overflowing box weighed 17kg, and she estimated that it would need another kilo for packing material and an extension for the box. Forms were filled in and an amount for the postage, packaging and insurance calculated. We paid her, then offered to help her bring the box to her car.

“No car, just motorbike!” She laughed as we brought everything to her little motorbike outside. I’d have at least tied it on with bungee straps, but she just giggled as she put on her mouth mask and helmet.

With her box of equipment jammed in front of her, and our precious 17kg box balanced on the back, she drove away, holding the box with one hand behind her!

Can you imagine service like that from Canada Post?

This is communism?

Arriving in Hanoi was a bit of a culture shock.

Bits and pieces of disinformation from the late 60s and early 70s kept popping into my head and conflicting with what we were seeing as we were processed efficiently through the airport, then whisked into the city in an air-conditioned SUV.

Huge corporate billboards with global brand names (Canon, Hyundai, Phillips...) rise from rice fields being ploughed with water buffalo. New homes and buildings are popping up everywhere. The streets are packed with motorbikes, bicycles, street vendors—but also a surprising number of very expensive cars with tinted windows. Mobile phones are ubiquitous, and web addresses figure prominently on many hotel and shop signs.

No faceless masses shuffling along to cavernous factories here!

The hawkish Red-fearing types in the US must be really vexed at how they lost the war and let the dreaded communist scourge spread into Vietnam—only to have it all become a hive of bustling capitalism only 30 some years later.

Is there a lesson here for the current conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan? The cost of meddling was terribly high, and the hindsight view of French and American interference is not positive.

Where could Vietnam be today if all those resources had been directed positively to infrastructure and trade instead of as bombs?