The other side of APEC

Drying Tree Bark

I have to say the Vietnamese security forces have proved very adept at dealing with the APEC conference, but the bits you see on the news don’t tell the full story of what life is really like now in conference obsessed Hanoi.

George arrived on Friday, and various pieces of misinformation were flying round in various media for at least a month before. One Hanoi information website listed ALL the major roads in the city as being closed from 6am until 10pm for both Friday and Saturday. This caused a small panic amongst those who bother to read these things, especially my boss who had to get to the airport on Saturday morning. As most people don’t comply with traffic regulations anyway, and therefore don’t waste time reading websites like that, absolute chaos would have reigned if it had been true. Traffic was actually less than usual on Friday but if our office was anything to go by that was because people either stayed home or went home early to avoid the anticipated traffic jams, thus there were no traffic jams. This was claimed as a success by some of the international organisations based here who had`come up with the idea of a work from home day to help the Hanoi authorities reduce traffic levels. That was noble and self sacrificing of them wasn’t it? More accurate information from the American Embassy said there was a lorry ban from 6am to 10pm and the roads would be closed whenever APEC traffic was passing.

This proved to be the case and when I cycled up past West Lake at 7am this morning heading for my second ride with the cycle group I narrowly missed being held up by the road blocks. On the last stretch to the Sofitel Plaza – home of many delegates – the police were busy moving everyone on, clearing all parked motorbikes and preparing their famous rope barricades across side roads and junctions. I say famous since these are the same ropes which act as traps for motorcyclists who jump red lights. Pull up the rope which is tied between two lampposts and the faster the offending motorcyclist is driving the harder he falls!

As I reached the Plaza where we were meeting the wail of sirens announced the departure of a convoy, led by outriders wearing white dress uniforms, white helmets similar to world war two German army helmets and riding pure white Honda Goldwing bikes with red flashing lights. A police car followed and then a train of minibuses all with APEC number plates. Minibuses means they were minor officials, the big guys get Mercedes or custom built coaches whilst George has brought his own Cadillac.

Uniforms are a big feature of Hanoi’s response to the conference. Every policeman and soldier on every street corner has donned his dress jacket and Sam Brown belt. Every guard outside the many embassies has left his open shirt and machine gun at home and is now wearing full ceremonial dress with a holstered pistol. These guys have it the hardest, they usually slouch against the wall, machine gun on hip looking menacing. For the last ten days they have been standing to attention on little square wooden platforms with patio umbrellas over the top. I asked several colleagues why they were in this position a full week before the conference started. “Its normal” came the reply, “they need to practice for at least a week.”

The presence of all these dress uniforms has made me realise I don’t know half the different divisions in the security forces. I’ve worked out that the beige uniform is a traffic cop, mainly because we see them on street corners and motorists behave when they are around. But what does a green uniform signify? or a blue one? or a white one? Suddenly I’m noticing different uniforms everywhere. Someone commented that the ones to really worry about were the ones you couldn’t see – the plainclothes guys, but I’ll settle for worrying about the ones in black combat fatigues with the big guns. Fortunately the big guns have a reflective strip otherwise I might not be here to write this. In an unlit backstreet a couple of nights ago I almost ran into two of these guys, me on the bike and them crossing the road in the dark with dark skin and black outfits. I only just saw the strips in time. Even the usual newsreaders have been replaced by stern faced women wearing white dress uniforms with lots of scrambled egg on the epaulets.

This is not the only impact of the conference. We’ve heard the staff at the Sheraton have been given a week off and the American delegation has taken over the whole hotel and brought their own hotel staff with them. Certainly the Sheraton is a good location for anyone with a security obsession. It backs onto the lake and has only one road in. Hundreds of street vendors have been swept away from their usual spots both as a security measure and to make the city look tidy. Motor bike parks have disappeared so it’s possible to walk down pavements and car drivers have been really hit as all car parking along any route to the conference and outside any official building has been completely banned. A little more sinister, we have also heard that many street children have been collected up and whisked off to the 02 “training” centre outside Hanoi where they will stay for three months before being sent back to their home village. Optimists say this is giving them a new start. Cynics say it’s another form of street cleaning.

One real impact on us is that pubs and clubs being held to their official closing times. Le Pub, a place we often start or end an evening has suffered a double blow. There are delegates stopping in the tiny hotel next door (I wonder which country is so skinflint as to use a place only one step up from a hostel?) so Le Pub has to clear all it’s patrons out by 11pm instead of the usual 1am. Then to add insult to injury the owner has to keep staff on all night to provide free drinks to the occupants of the temporary Police tent set up opposite the hotel entrance. The stall holders of the local market which normally takes place where the tent is aren’t too impressed either – they have been told to stay away for a week.

Every major hotel in the city is fully booked for the rest of this month and most of December as conference delegates and their families stop over to complete other business or take holidays and tourist areas are experiencing “APEC prices” – even our glass of sugar cane juice at the end of today’s ride cost us 60% more than normal.

Today’s ride was 64km and my absence of fitness showed. More people turned up this time - there were 12 riders - and I finished last at every stage. By the final six kilometres I had run out of steam and really needed that frothy sugar drink to get me home the last mile or so through the town. The unseasonable heat (31C today) continues and with the sun out and a headwind it was hard work. I drank 2 litres of water without pause when I got home. The route meandered along a tributary of the Red River, crossing once by bridge and once by ferry. Today’s rural occupation of note was drying tree bark. I don’t know where it comes from or what they use it for but it was very neatly cut in to pieces about a metre square and laid out at the side of the road – for miles! By the time we circled back it had all dried and passing lorries were blowing it all over the place. We also rode through an area where farmers were drying rice by the traditional (?) method – lay it out on a tarmac road, leave two clear tracks to allow two way traffic for motorbikes or one way traffic for lorries and cars, turn it every so often using a device a bit like a snow shovel and collect it again when its dry. I’ve seen this done along the edges of major roads, but it’s the first time I’ve seen the entire road taken over as a drying bed.

Tonight its quiet, but I think I’d sleep well even if the dogs, cats and rowing machines were all going full pelt. I’m now on my 4th litre of water and still slightly thirsty and I’m a pretty shade of red despite the factor 50 sunscreen. Must be time for bed.