So long Saigon; Hallo Hanoi

The journey is the destination. The beauty of travelling is that there is nothing tying you down to just one place. Having set my sights on ‘TEFLing’ until June 2018, I have decided that to get the most out of my whole experience, I should experience living in more than one place. Soon I will be packing up my old kit bag, and moving bricks to the sticks of Hanoi. But before doing so, here is what I have learnt during my twelve weeks in Saigon.

#1 A misunderstood war. A key tourist hotspot in Saigon is the War Remnants Museum. Formerly ‘The Exhibition for US and Puppet Crimes’, a few steps inside and you understand why this was its birth name. The museum was graphically shocking. Seven rooms plastered in images and war keepsakes, serving to illustrate the true horrors of the Vietnam War. My visit to the museum was followed a week later with a trip to the Chu Chi Tunnels. A fascinating look at the guerrilla tactics and secret tunnels used by the North Vietnamese Army. Crawling through the tunnels and shooting a M16 rifle gave me a real insight into what it may have been like to have fought in the war. On reflection, considering the lasting affects that the war has had on Vietnam and its closest neighbours, you wonder whether anything good was gained. It rings true, that war does not determine who is right, only who is left.

#2 Not all those who wander are lost. Riding my motorbike has without doubt been the most unforgettable experience. Not least because Saigon is famed for having some of the busiest roads in the world. Unfortunately, though, also one of the most dangerous. Regretfully I saw this first hand, having come across a crash where a dead body was hanging over the bike handle bars; the worst sighting of my life. I also had a scare after getting a puncture in the dark along the tallest bridge in the city. Wobbling it back down with large artic lorries passing by; a heart-in-mouth moment for myself and Matty, who was sitting on the back. But away from the potential danger, it is the sense of freedom whilst riding that I liked more than anything else. It took me back to my childhood, riding my bike around the village from dusk till dawn. We’re taught when we transition from childhood to adulthood to leave behind the stories of our youth. Don’t listen to that advice. The stories of our youth, if we all hold onto the hidden gems inside, can help us navigate the world like a superhero. When I was riding my bike in Saigon, I was Batman on my Batmobile.

#3 Educating Vietnam. It has been fulfilling to know that through my teachings, I have had a positive influence on the lives of my students. When you learn about the teaching and the practice of another tradition, you always have a chance to understand your own teaching and practice. There is a stark contrast between the UK and Vietnamese education system. Class sizes are well over forty here. Discipline, or the control thereof, is notably different. My approach was to publicly embarrass the misbehaving child by getting them to do a chicken dance at the front of class. But some of the Vietnamese teachers use force. On one occasion, the teacher was hitting a boy on the wrists with a ruler. The ruler snapped, exposing a sharp edge. The aimless hitting continued, the boy was crying, and I felt enforced to intervene. Fortunately, we were saved by the bell. I confronted the teacher later and expressed my thoughts. He was visibly shaken, admitting that he lost his head. I bought a new ruler for the boy and reported the incident to the Vice Principal. Whilst mindful that I was the alien at the school, and the culture clash should be respected, I think the line was overstepped that day.

#4 It ain’t about how hard you can hit. I promised myself before travelling to Vietnam that I would push myself outside the comfort of the running track, and try out a new sport. Boxers have always impressed me. Such a punishing sport, but rewarding all the same. I bought a cheap pair of gloves and joined a boxing gym. Courage is being scared shitless, but gloving up anyway! After a few classes, it turned out that my coach was a three-time WBA Champion from the Philippines. A truly great experience. It would have been ideal to elongate my time in Saigon, just to get in a few more masterclasses. But at least I can say that I have been trained by a Boxing World Champion.

#5 Going coconuts. The Mekong Delta is one of the wonders of Vietnam. I spent a day there with Phat and his friends. It is one of the ‘must do’ trips in the South. I had a unique tour which included feeding a crocodile, and a boat trip down some of the murky waters of the Delta. We visited a villager, who laid on lunch for us. A freshly caught fish brewed in a tasty stew. He invited us inside his coconut tree garden. He bestowed me the chance to cut down my own coconut with a machete, and enjoy its fruitful innards. Though, chopping the top of a coconut is not as easy as it looks. I made a real hash of it. Once open, I drank the fresh coconut milk and scooped out the flesh with part of the shell. A cherished experience, though one not as nuts as what you are about to read.

#6 When it rains, it pours. And I don’t just mean the weather. Read any TEFL related blog site, and you will find the occasional horror story. Vietnam has a lot to offer. But I’ve come to realise that things can quite easily go wrong, and it’s a long way home if it does. Thankfully I have been paid for the hours that I have completed. However, upon leaving my language centre along with my flatmates, the accommodation that was included in our contract was taken away without notice. The locks were changed with our belongings still inside. A frantic few hours ensued. After locating the landlord, we entered the property and established that our possessions had been tampered with. A few angry exchanges from all parties then followed, and I did consider using my newfound boxing skills on the irrational idiot. But thankfully we were able to keep our cool, grab our stuff, and get out. My towel was ripped up and used as a cleaning mop; and unfortunately for Matty, his tennis shoes were stolen. A bitter end to our time in HCMC. A few nights prior to that, we heard a loud explosion in our toilet. Upon opening the door, we were hit with a wave of odour, and the walls were painted brown. Shit had literally hit the fan.

It is sad to say it, but Hanoi cannot come soon enough.