The weather systems move through Saigon at such a rapid pace that it can go from sunny with broken high clouds, without any menacing dark clouds on the horizon, to torrential rain within a quarter of an hour. I got stuck in one of these monsoonal downpours yesterday while out house hunting. The amazing thing is that everybody knows this and when these downpours start you can pull into any sort of shelter, park your scooter inside and the people, no matter what sort of business, will make you feel very welcome to wait out the storm.

The weather hasn’t been the only thing that has hindered my house hunt. It’s been mainly the indecision, but thankfully I am now at last clear on the area I am going to live in. After seeing many apartments and villas in Binh Thanh, the suburb closer to the centre of Saigon, I didn’t really find any that were suitable. The one that I did like here, I later found out that during the wet season the street floods up to knee level. As I don’t fancy wading through water to get to or from my apartment I have stuck this one from the list.

I will be moving to District 2 just across the Saigon River from Binh Thanh. As for exactly where in D2 that remains to be seen, hopefully I will know by tomorrow night. If all goes to plan tomorrow afternoon (whoosh, whoosh), I will sign a lease on a cute little place that is oozing with character and charm. It was the very first place I saw, my gut told me then and it’s still telling me now that this is the place. Wanting to live closer to the centre of Saigon unfortunately blinded me, but my vision has cleared now. I will see how it goes, if living in the expat area gets to me too much, after my one year lease finishes I can decide to move closer then.

Last night I went to the new staff welcome dinner. I had already met most of the new teachers, either in the hotel, or running into them randomly, or corresponded via email and met. I even got to meet one of my students who is the daughter of a teaching couple starting at my school this year.

Dinner was at a restaurant with a very interesting concept. It was decidedly more upmarket than any of the places I have been eating in up until this point, but since I wasn’t paying I was all for it. This restaurant actually employs people who were street food vendors, taking them from the street, into a restaurant. They don’t work in a traditional kitchen though, their new ‘street carts’ (that have never actually seen the street), are set-up along the sides of the restaurant.

You can either pick food from the menu, or you can wander around watching these street chefs making their food and choose that way. A novel concept that is certainly geared towards people who want the authenticity of the ‘street food experience’, without actually needing to sit in the street to experience it.

Tomorrow is the first day of school, for the new teachers at least. It’s my first day of fulltime work since I finished at the end of the school year last December.

I knew picking up my unaccompanied baggage was going to be bad and I had prepared myself as best I could for the bureaucratic nightmare, but patience for such things has never been one of my strong traits. This is certainly one of the reasons my path has taken me to Vietnam. One of the thing I will learn here. The Vietnamese certainly have a way of making what should and easily could be a simple process, a very difficult one.

The labored process involved six steps that inevitably meant lining up in one room after another, paying a fee or a bribe, I’m still not quite sure which, then moving on to the next waiting area. Luckily I wasn’t sent on my own to navigate this minefield of Vietnamese bureaucracy or that would have been a whole different, probably much more interesting, story. A lovely girl from school who I tip my hat to basically did everything. All I had to do was pay who she told me to pay, sign where she told me to sign and smile a lot.

I knew from another teacher’s experience that the freight terminal shuts down for lunch at 11.30am on the dot and the workers take a lazy 2 hour lunch break. This is extremely common in Vietnam. The notion of staggered lunch breaks hasn’t quite reached here yet for most businesses, especially government ones.

I knew it would be tight, but it really came right down to the line. The customs man came to check our boxes at 11.30am on the dot. I’m not sure if it was because I was the only foreigner sitting in the waiting room and they didn’t want me waiting there for them to return from lunch, it was my turn, or the right bribe had been paid to the right person. Whatever the reason he didn’t bother even opening my boxes. I was passed with a dismissive wave of the hand as he switched off the lights and went to lunch.

I took my boxes directly to my classroom at my new school. This was the first time I had visited the campus I would be teaching on and my new room. I must say I was very impressed with the campus. It’s much cuter than the other campuses I had visited previously. Last years Prep teacher had left lots of resources in the room that I can use and the room is quite large and spacious for my group of little people.

House hunting has been an enjoyable experience in Saigon, unlike in Melbourne. In Vietnam customer service is held in high esteem. There are no open for inspections with one hundred other perspective renters attending. There are no sour real estate agents who couldn’t care less because they don’t have to work to sell the property to desperate renters. There is no need to offer more money to secure a place above other perspective tenants. In fact, as Phuc, one of the real estate agents told me, in Vietnam all prices can be negotiated.

With more house hunting on the cards today a number of choices lay before me. Firstly, I need to decide what type of place I want to rent. I saw everything from five level houses with one room on each level and a rooftop terrace, to apartments in Docklands style high rise buildings. From apartments in smaller blocks of 5 apartments to smaller one level houses in quiet streets. I saw places that were modern and new, to places that are more traditional (simple living as one real estate agent put it) but oozing with character.

Secondly, I need to decide on the area. If this was Melbourne, my school would be in say Williamstown, which fits perfectly because my school is over the Saigon River like Williamstown is over the Yarra River. I could live in ‘Williamstown’ where everything is set-up for expats, where the streets are quieter, but where things are priced at expat rates. Or I could live in ‘Port Melbourne’, ‘South Melbourne’ or ‘Docklands’ a bit closer in. ‘Williamstown’ is great but it’s a bit cut off, an isolated community and a bit insular. The closer I come towards ‘Port Melbourne’, ‘South Melbourne’ and ‘Docklands’ the more choices I have, the cheaper things become and the more Vietnamese things become.

I had a great feeling about one of the places in ‘Williamstown’ so I find I am asking myself, do I go with my gut, or do I sacrifice a great feeling to live in a suburb closer in? Do I want to put up with construction noise next door, but have an amazingly lovely landlord and ridiculously cheap rent? Can I really live in the ‘bubble’ of high-rise apartment buildings, but have the most amazing view of Saigon and a totally pimped out apartment? Should I go with something cheap and pocket the rest of the money, or should I go with a feeling and spend a bit more?

Decisions and choices…

Places that ooze with character (the photo’s don’t do it them a great deal of justice):

http://www.snap.com.vn/Listings/Property_Rentals/Property_Rentals_Detail.asp?Leasing_Listing_ID=1722

http://www.snap.com.vn/Listings/Property_Rentals/Property_Rentals_Detail.asp?Leasing_Listing_ID=1723

High-rise wonderland:

http://www.snap.com.vn/Listings/Property_Rentals/Property_Rentals_Detail.asp?Leasing_Listing_ID=1702

Five levels and a roof top terrace:

http://www.snap.com.vn/Listings/Property_Rentals/Property_Rentals_Detail.asp?Leasing_Listing_ID=503

The only place with an oven (again the photo’s don’t do it justice):

http://www.snap.com.vn/Listings/Property_Rentals/Property_Rentals_Detail.asp?Leasing_Listing_ID=1584

I love that I have a sanctuary to retreat to. A place where I can listen to the streetscape from afar, yet be slightly disconnected from it. My hotel playing this role for me at the moment, but soon it will be my own place. I’m loving the fast paced life here in Saigon, but I’m also relishing the reflecting time away from the it.

Dam Sen Water Park is what I guess would be the Vietnamese version of Wet and Wild. Though as I haven’t yet visited Wet and Wild I can make no comparisons between the two. My own experience of water parks is limited to the water slides at Norlane Waterworld and the one slide at the Lara pool, which if memory serves wasn’t even a waterslide, but merely a slide into water. In other words I was always going to be easy to please when it comes to water slides.

I wondered before leaving whether it was a good idea to go on a Sunday and in hindsight perhaps it wasn’t. I thought that since it was a cloudy and cool(ish) day that it wouldn’t be as busy and perhaps it wasn’t that busy compared to a normal Sunday. To me though it was insanely busy.

The wait times at some rides were a little out of control and I learnt very quickly that being polite to people in the lines doesn’t get you anywhere. The Vietnamese don’t believe in waiting in lines it seems. They will push through and try and nudge their way closer at the expense of others. Nobody gets mad though. Nobody argues. It’s just the way it is.

I got my fill of waterslides, however my impatience got the better of me at times and I couldn’t be bothered waiting and pushing to get to some of the slides. I’d definitely like to go again, though perhaps on a weekday.

So far I have learnt a few things that will help me with my new life. Firstly, my pale winter skin isn’t ready for sun without sunscreen quite yet. Secondly, that I should do everything I need to do before 11am, then retreat somewhere cool to escape the blisteringly hot and humid afternoons, venturing out again at sunset. Finally, that frozen yogurt is for tourists and rich locals given the dollar for dollar price with Chapel Street.

Today was about finishing what I started yesterday, my street wandering. I picked up where I had left off at the Reunification Palace, which up until the tanks crashed through the gates at the end of the American War, reunifying the country was known as Independence Palace.

The architecture is interesting. Think Soviet style meets Housing Commission in Collingwood and you’ll be part of the way to visualizing this building. Inside it’s like time has stood still since those tanks crashed through the gates in 1975. I’d read that it’s a quiet place, with grandiose, but empty halls, today however was tourist bus day. The place was heaving, perhaps much like it would have in the 1970s when the South Vietnamese were running the show.

Much like Art Deco style, each room had it’s own unique fixtures that set them apart from each other. The different lampshades and light fixtures were stunningly old skool and fascinating to look at from room to room.

My favourite room by far was the library; the room on the top floor with commanding views from its corner vantage point to the circular driveway in front of the building and the lush gardens to the side. The walls were covered in books, with a big desk in the middle of the room. My kind of room!

Back out in the noisy and brash streets I made my way to the zoo/botanical gardens. I’d been warned about the zoo and it very much lived up to the warnings. I paid my 50c to find, Elephant’s chain by one foot to a stake in the ground, pacing back and forth in the direct sunlight. Crocodiles swimming in ponds filled with empty water and soft drink bottles that people had thrown in, no doubt to entice the crocs to snap or move. Snakes putting up with people bashing on the glass, obviously these people haven’t seen Harry Potter. It could happen you know!

It was a disappointment, but I did get to see some Flamingos and also some Storks that have the amazing ability to pose in an assortment of positions frozen as if Harry Potter had shot them with some sort of spell. I’m not sure if this behavior is instinctual or psychosis from being kept in such a small cage.

I ventured out again after sunset to find the streets and parks teeming with people, who are wandering, riding, enjoying. Children playing with soccer balls and an assortment of cheap and nasty toys that you see in the stalls at the Queen Vic Market. Entire streets, in what must have been only an hour between walking through and walking back, turned from busy roadways to bustling markets and restaurants. It very much reminded me of Marrakesh, though here they just set-up on the road rather than in a square that is closed to traffic.

For the grand total of 49,000 Dong ($2.22 according to xe.com) I was able to buy two 1.5lt bottles of water, a tin of Pringles and a Kit Kat. Brilliant!

I wandered the streets of Saigon today trying to get a sense of where I am in the city. My internal compass is out of whack now that I’m back in the Northern Hemisphere. I just have to keep reminding myself that chances are the direction that I think is north will most likely be south.

I came across everything from modern western style air-conditioned shopping centers to street markets selling things that I don’t even want to know where they came from. The filing system in my brain worked overtime storing all this information for future reference.

My plan was to give myself a taste of the city with a 5km walking tour. In my mind 5km is nothing, but this is Saigon. Walking anywhere in Saigon can be quite time consuming and it’s hardly what I would call a relaxing affair. I was constantly stopping, starting, dodging and weaving. It’s not as simple as wait for the green man and walk. Whilst the Saigonese obey the traffic lights, sometimes, it’s no guarantee that the walkway will be safe to cross without paying attention to what’s happening in every direction. Walking for me has always been soothing, a time to let the mind wander. Not in Saigon. High alert status is required at all times.

My data gathering walking tour inevitably lead me to the Ben Thanh Market in the center of Saigon. Here my nose was assaulted with a myriad of old and new smells. From mothballs to moth balls/op shop, it’s sometimes hard to distinguish between the two. From pineapple to other exotic fruits I’m yet to try. There was the slightly offensive smell of fresh meat, unrefrigerated of course, just sitting on display in the added layer of humidity inside the market. At times there was a rancid smell that I still have no idea what it was, but I feel this smell could be related to some sort of live poultry, though I couldn’t see any live chickens anywhere. I wasn’t about to let my nose lead me any closer to the source either.

The War Remnants Museum was interesting. To be honest I prefer the previous, more politically uncensored name, The Museum of Chinese and American War Crimes. It’s full of propaganda from the North Vietnamese perspective about the American War period. It was refreshing to see it from a Vietnamese perspective, especially coming from a Western background where the propaganda is taught from the American perspective. I have no doubt though that both sides were as guilty as each other for the atrocities during that war.

I’d like to say sorry to the environment. Here in Saigon I’m showering twice a day, I even feel like I need to shower more, to wash away the layers of sweat that cover my entire body each time I step outside the air-conditioned hotel room. The humidity will become my friend soon enough. It’s warm arms wrapping around me everywhere I go.

Chaotic and noisy with an intense energy! After all the planning and preparation I have arrived in sultry Saigon.

The flights were fairly uneventful, except I still remain partially deaf and unable to fully equalise my ears. I had prepared myself, based on warnings from School, for a dose of insanity at the airport in Saigon, but the passport control queue was short, my backpack was one of the first to trundle along the baggage carousel and the customs staff looked bored because all of their lines were empty. I’d say it took me a maximum of 10 minutes to get from the plane door to the outside world. Something I will have to remind myself of the next time I fly into Saigon and it’s not like that.

With my bags on a trolley I pushed through the glass doors to what I guess is the ‘arrivals hall’, though really the equivalent in Melbourne would be the doors that lead out to the arrivals drive-by pick up area outside the building. I found myself stepping outside, into the full humidity with my first taste of Saigon before me.

The crowds are waiting, five people deep in places, cheering each time the glass doors slide open. I would later be told that entire Vietnamese families, sometimes 15 plus people, come to the airport to pick up one relative. I knew that I needed to look for someone holding a sign with my name on it, but the sensory overload of the people, the noise and the humidity made it hard to focus. I couldn’t see anybody.

I must have been offered a ride in about 20 different taxis in the hour in took to finally locate Miss Bang. Sweating profusely when I meet her; Miss Bang says she was there the whole time. I looked in the spot where I finally found her numerous times in that hour, but I let it slide. Welcome to Vietnam!

The trip to the hotel was completely and utterly chaotic but with a strange rhythm. I loved the energy all around me. It reminded me of Cairo traffic, though there it’s mainly cars, here motorbikes zipping everywhere. By the time we arrived at the hotel I was so wrecked I forgot to even ask anything about where I was staying. All I could think about was shutting the door to my room, showering and sleeping.