Thursday, March 10, 2011

Argentinean Tango

Street shoeshiner
Crossing the street was already such a daunting challenge that getting my own vehicle seemed suicidal, but I had experienced not-so-pleasant situations with drunk motor taxis and lost cab drivers and was fed-up of depending on someone else’s reckless and precarious driving practices. So I did it. I took the courage to make that step towards independence and rented a motorbike.

Given the slight temperature rise and increased confidence from my part, I thought it was the perfect time to rent a motorbike. I retrieved the keys in the evening and already started dreaming of my first day in town zipping along Hanoi’s intricate alleyways. Unfortunately, my first day didn’t turn out to be as rosy as I had imagined: it was the first rainy day since my arrival and venturing out into the jungle instantly became a test. On top of the lousy weather, I was invited to a workshop at the Hanoi Medical University in the southern part of the city. I took my only map (too large), thin baseball-cap shaped helmet (which would probably fracture easier than my skull) and a large, floppy K-way.

I hit the road 45 minutes before the beginning of the workshop, giving myself some extra time to get lost. The first 10 minutes on that thing felt like hours: cars coming from all sides, scooters crossing large intersections at red lights, bicycles swerving from left to right and practically invisible pedestrians slaloming their way through traffic. On top of the chaos was the rain and no visor to cover my eyes from the mixture of dust and polluted downpour. I was no longer sure about my "brilliant" idea of independence. I pulled over, unfolded the gargantuan map and tried to figure out where I was in relation to my destination only to find out I was going north instead of south! I was edgy and irritated. I looked around and realized I was on a busy one-way street with no potential u-turns in sight. I didn’t think twice. I maneuvered the scooter and started rolling in the opposite direction towards the oncoming traffic, took the left turn at the red light and merged onto the road headed south.

Lady fruit vendor
It’s unbelievable how long it takes to acquire proper driving skills when you’re studying to get a license and how swiftly and easily all good habits disappear. I was officially driving my way, making my rules as I proceeded south. Hands were always ready on the brakes and the left thumb on the horn, set to honk at any given moment. The rear-view mirrors became a luxurious accessory and the blinker a hobby.

I learned that the traffic in Vietnam is like an Argentinean tango dancer, with each member of its body blending into its surroundings while flowing across the dance floor like a wave, sometimes gentle and sometimes fierce. The only way to "dance" with it is to observe and follow. Drop all Western driving standards: no place for that here! Just go with the flow and ride the wave, it gets you further and safer then you ever would have imagined.

2 comments:

  1. Bello e divertente. Bel ragazzo!

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  2. J'adore tes récits. On a l'impression d'être avec toi à Hanoi.
    Prends soin de toi ma belle !

    ReplyDelete