I was recently stuck on a curb in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam (everyone there still calls it Saigon). My objective, a restaurant where my husband and my lunch awaited me, stood on the opposite side of the street. I could see the food, smell it and, if you know me, you’ll realize I had built up quite an appetite.
Stranded in the Chaos
The only barrier between me and my lunch was crossing the street. Now, this sounds like a simple task, but at noon in Saigon my objective might as well have been the far side of the moon. The road was crammed with motor scooters (called “motos”), bicycles, motorcycles, cyclos (pedaled rickshaws), cars, trucks and buses. The fewer wheels a contraption had, the more passengers it seemed to carry. I saw a family of 5 riding a Honda scooter sans helmets, of course.
Even the center lines contributed to the confusion. Rather than dividing the traffic into two lanes, each moving in opposite directions, in Saigon the yellow markers apparently serve only to indicate that you are on a paved road. People passed, stopped, turned around and crisscrossed the center lines with utter abandon.
Traffic flowed both ways in...
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