Business as usual

by Ruth Carey (Ireland)

I didn't expect to find Vietnam

Picture the scene: Your casually having breakfast on the 8th floor of your hostel after a night that got a little bit too out of control. You start to hear a commotion. At first you brush it off as some quick squabble in the street, but eventually it gets your attention enough to leave the unfinished pancakes and head downstairs to the street. After staying in the same hostel for over a week, you stand in your hostel entrance staring at the same two women trying to sell Bahn Mi to you practically having a full on MMA fight with each other. You wonder "What the hell happened to cause this!". It's pure pandemonium. Chairs outside there little huts are thrown at each other, ice buckets are dumped on each others heads. Every time there's a lilt to the screaming of abuse, one of the cronies who seemed to be the respective families of the women would shout a taunt and the whole argument would start again. It was like watching a pantomime. The whole street had stopped to watch this. Men on their bikes with their dogs on their footrest, women with baskets of oranges on their hand. It was both the loudest and quietest time you'd ever witnessed in my time in Vietnam. For once, nobody tried to sell you anything - everyone was far too absorbed by the free street theatre. When a glass was thrown and shattered you start to wonder when the police would step in to stop this debacle, only to realise they were already on the scene, watching from the corner of the street. Only in Asia. Eventually, they managed to step in and convince the women it was between stopping or fail. A few final rude gestures were made and they parted ways. Everything returns to normalcy. The street vendors run to you selling their merchandise, bikes and taxis take off again trying to make up for lost time, and the two women go back to trying to convince you they sell the best Bahn Mi in Vietnam. Business as usual.