I am gently able to
breath some cooler air again. The humidity is dropping - the sun is setting
soon. I am leaving my house on foot, walking out of my compound, leaving the
barking dogs behind. Crossing the busy road with dozens of motorbikes as rush
hour has kicked in, listening to peeping sounds and market tenders, shouting
something in Vietnamese to offer their food.
I continue slowly on a
little side lane just until I meet the next busy road again. This road is
particularly wide; the pavement is occupied with older men playing cards and
local board games, some smoking a cigarette. Women are busy selling ‘Pho’
(noodle soup) and Banh Mi (baguette) to earn a living. I take another right and
left turn to continue walking on a beautiful quiet road with huge colourful
gates where massive private villas are hidden behind, most of them owned by
upper class Vietnamese.
In-between small little sheds or should I call it cheap
housing for the poor Vietnamese society with a typical neon lamp on the wall. Barely
any furniture in them, except of a bedframe or if you were lucky possible even
a mattress. A shared garden in front of them with a clothesline stretched from
one tree to the other with dozens of colourful hangers and hand washed clothes
on them to dry, so they could be worn the next day again.
Crossing another main
road, I’m now in another particularly wide beautiful peaceful road, flanked
with trees on both sides and an additional green strip in the middle, planted with
beautiful palm trees. A few motorbikes passing by quietly, two men sitting on
the right side sipping iced coffee. Older couples are walking in front of me,
wearing runners instead of the usual flip-flops, and a granddad pushing a pram
with his grandchild.
Reaching the end of the
road, I am entering a small little area with a playground for children on the
left side, numerous exercising machines on the right side that were all
occupied and in the end there was a long-winded balustrade with the Saigon
river in the back. I’m walking mindfully over there, standing on the balustrade
and looking out onto the river. Three fishermen are on the right side, trying
their luck to catch some fish and a young couple sitting to the right, chatting
about their day. The river flows around a small Island in a U-shaped form with
tropical lash green vegetation. Airplanes are slowly moving in the blue sky,
becoming clearer as they are approaching the 12 Million metropolis of Saigon. Green
plants, looking like water spinach, floating past. A boat with a few sealed
containers is slowly passing by and vanishing in the far distance. The sky is
changing colours as the sun sets. You can hear the noise of a squeaky old red
rusty swing, where a little girl is swaying. Sounds of approaching and
departing motorbikes are coming and going. What a peaceful and enjoyable spot
this is to watch the sunset.
I’m leaving the park slowly;
a bunch of young guys have started to play soccer outside the little park area
on the left side. More people are walking towards the green space. People on
bicycles are passing by, and some walking their dogs. I’m approaching the
street again which is flanked with villas on either sides with beautiful
colourful gates and massive trees. It looks very idyllic and the lush orange
Tuscany wall on the right side makes it look like a photograph out of a book of
fairy tales.
This is real, that is my favourite hour of the day in Saigon.
