Haggling

I don't believe there's a street in Hanoi where you won't find motorbikes and people massed on the sidewalk all day and all evening long. There's one spot, though, en route from my hotel to the supermarket where I always see a particularly thick knot of older men crowded so close together with their backs to the street that I have to suspect a crap shoot—or maybe a gecko fight. Today, for the first time, the knot was loose enough I could catch a glimpse of what these geezers were up to: One of them was unpacking a satchel full of blue jeans, tee shirts, and running shoes while the others crowded in for a closer look and a chance to handle the merchandise. It was a scene from The Great Escape, except instead of Allied airmen concocting German disguises it was Vietnamese urbanites looking to disguise themselves as American high school students.

I do remember reading that cock fighting is popular in Vietnam. I haven't seen any direct evidence of that yet, but I have seen roosters walking around off the leash just daring somebody to start something. Weirdly enough, I have yet to see a single cat or any direct evidence (like cat food in a supermarket or cat dishes on a menu) that the Vietnamese have even heard of cats.

I ate lunch today at a family café called The Family Café—just the sort of place you might find on College Avenue in Oakland: a cavernous joint leading to a small, bamboo-shaded courtyard in the back, brick floor, wrought iron tables, artificial waterfall pouring into a koi pond, speakers pouring out instrumental versions of Simon and Garfunkel and the theme music from the Godfather. I half expected to see koi on the menu, but surprisingly, no, they weren't, so I ordered sauteed pork loin with pineapple on a bed of rice and a bottle of beer. My order came with a side of soup and a slice of watermelon for dessert. I know I've already made the point about how cheap things are here, but I'm really getting a kick out of it, so indulge me a little longer: lunch cost $2.76. I felt so happy I walked over to Highlands Coffee to read today's paper and splurge on an overpriced double scoop of coffee ice cream for $2.10.

Now let me tell you about a friend of mine, let's call him Gary. Gary heard about a DVD store over on Thinh Yen Street. The store turned out to be a music CD store, but it had one bucket of DVDs, packaged in paper sleeves like the 45's my sister used to buy back in the late 50's. There are two kinds of businesses in Hanoi. There are businesses like the supermarket and the upscale boutiques at Vincom Towers where you pay the 100% markup represented by the sticker price. And there are businesses like the DVD store where merchandise has no stickers and you can pretend to be totally indifferent to some item you really want until the proprietor lets you have it for only six and half times his cost. Gary listened to an initial quote of 50,000 dong ($3) per DVD, countered with an offer of 60,000 dong for 2 DVDs, heard his offer rejected, tried again with 80,000 dong for 2 DVDs, suddenly sensed that all messages were being garbled in transmission, that none were arriving intact, that confusion was starting to erupt like a smoke bomb, decided to switch the channel over to sign language, started displaying fingers to indicate bid prices, got finger prices in return, and suddenly discovered that what he had heard as 50,000 each had been in reality 15,000 each and was still the current offer. Gary quickly caved in, stopped bargaining, and bought 2 DVDs (Spanglish and Tears of the Sun) for 30,000 dong ($1.80). Ignorance outpaces shrewdness yet again.

Gordon has been flying below the radar lately. I thought he might have changed hotels. But then I spotted him on the bathroom window tonight thinking seriously about taking a shower. He certainly could use one.