Crocodiles and Global Warming

I haven’t written anything on this blog for months. I think it’s because life here now seems normal. When I started the blog I wrote about the things which clashed with my values and were new experiences, now I’ve been here nearly 18 months so much is just…. normal.

I’m not a volunteer anymore, I crossed to the “Dark Side” at the beginning of October when my VSO contract finished and I began working as a consultant. So now I’m funded by the US Government and my daily allowance has gone up a bit. And why am I writing now? Well a couple of things have happened recently which made me think, and made me smile.

Sadly global warming is taking its toll in Vietnam and the tropical storms and floods seem to come later, be heavier and last longer. So central Vietnam has had a hammering over the last few months. We were all ‘asked’ to make a contribution to the relief fund - which was no hardship - but it was interesting to see my Vietnamese colleagues interpreting the letter from the Department for Diplomatic workers as an instruction rather than a request!

A side effect of the floods is that I have become aware of crocodile farming in Vietnam. The papers are full of stories that around 80,000 crocodiles have escaped. As the flood waters rise they simply swim over the fences which previously enclosed them. The papers are full of stories of potential horror. Did we know there are 260,000 crocodiles in farms in southern Vietnam and 130,000 actually in Saigon itself? What if they all escape? A major review of the safety arrangements for containing these animals is underway.

But what about those which have already escaped? Poor things, in Vietnam they don’t stand a chance. Whilst the newspapers were trying to make a story out of the threat to mankind from having so many vicious killers on the loose the only actual incidents they could quote involved the demise of the crocodile! In true Vietnamese fashion any opportunity for a meal is seized upon. One report said a 90kg (how did they know that) croc had arrived in a village, so the villagers killed it, chopped it up and sold the meat in the local market (that’s how they knew!) Another report said that crocodile farm owners were despondent that the price of crocodile in the market was higher than they were offering in rewards for returned animals, so they were not getting the animals back.

The second incident is acute diarrhoea, which has broken out in Hanoi and other parts of North Vietnam. It’s actually C h o l e r a, but the government doesn’t like that word. People have actually reacted to this and are taking serious measures to contain it. I sat in a Bun Char street restaurant last Sunday, lunching at the end of a cycle ride and watched the girl preparing the kebabs wash her hands over and over and over and over before shaping and cooking the little meat patties. I’ve also watched as the number of people eating street food everywhere has declined significantly. The pig intestine porridge restaurant outside our office had eight customers on Friday whereas it usually has thirty to forty at a time. Shrimp paste, the evil smelling purple condiment loved by most Vietnamese has disappeared from all food stalls and people are wary of eating any seafood. Advice to stop eating fresh fruit seems to have been ignored, but a lot more washing and peeling is going on. So far no one I know has been affected, but I did hear that a chef at one of the five star hotels had tested positive for the bacteria, so it’s not just the street you have to be careful of!

Finally an old woman who lives near us died last week. Her name is pronounced something like ‘Zooann’ and it turns out she was 77 years old. We had a cold spell when for nearly a week the temperature dropped to around 20 degrees C and this coincided with an increased number of funerals. You know when there’s a funeral as the loud and wailing music goes on for days (and nights) and large tents appear in the street for mourners in their white headbands to sit, eat and drink. But this was different. It appears the family are Christians, and the whole event was more subdued.

She had been part of my life since I came to live in Van Ho. Virtually daily she would greet me whether I was walking or cycling. If walking she might touch my arm or hand, she always smiled and said something I didn’t understand. She gave the impression that a few of her marbles had gone missing, but she was always happy tottering up and down the alley and the street market and she seemed to know everybody.

We got concerned when funereal flags appeared at the end of the alley and canopy was erected round the entrance to her yard, we hadn’t seen her for several days. Then a sign went up on the notice board which seemed to confirm our fears and finally a colleague walking past saw into the house and her picture was on the altar in the main room. It was her.

As we walked back from a break-dancing show two nights ago the gate was open and the light on so we stopped and looked in. An old man I had never seen before beckoned us in and we took off our shoes and followed him. He invited my colleague to light an incense stick and we spent a few moments at the altar before being invited to sit. Situations like this really challenge my very limited Vietnamese, but we managed to determine that the old man was her 83 year old husband and the assembled group were her children and their partners. She had four daughters and two sons. The old man lamented that he was alone now, I reminded him that he had many friends and he nodded his head slowly putting his hand on my foot as we sat cross legged on the floor. Beer and biscuits followed and we tried to express our condolences and explain our connection with the woman. After half an hour we left. It felt good to have connected with her family, even if only briefly and I will miss her smiling face brightening my day.