Society

20160611 Thành Phố Ho Chị Minh

There is a belief that is too prevalent that progress must occur in a linear and sequential manner. And while it suffices to say that, in fact, it’s doesn’t happen in linear nor sequential sequence, it’s more interesting to me to think about how these trajectories we collectively set out to achieve end up swaying in their torque, bowing and breaking and thinking about what it’s like to be out on that limb when that happens. 

Physically exhausted from jet lag and strolling in the heat, I retreated to exploring the Internet in my hotel room. I came across two primary events of interest in the media: the recent development project funded by the World Bank and the toxic waste spill that has resulted in over 70 tonnes of dead fish washing ashore. Both pertaining to governmental responsibilities, both which Foucault would categorize as part of the biopolitical, were relevant to the project that I planned to develop after this family indie film wrapped up. 

The development project consisted of converting a canal, which had previously functioned as an open sewer, into a submarine sewage system with an open body of water on top. The concrete tunnels would move waste water from the neighborhood to the connecting sewer system for treatment. The project had begun in 2002 and had finished in 2014.

These canals are not unique in HCMC and made me wonder when this part of the country, which receives so much precipitation had been canalized and made into a concrete jungle, literally. The answer: blame the French. Or give them credit. 

The toxic waste scandal centered on a subsidiary of Formosa, a polymer manufacturer that also produces steel. In the coastal region of Ha Tinh, Quảng Banh, Quảng Tri and Thua Thien - Huế something got fishy. The scandal broke in late April when dead fish started washing ashore. The local fisherman were horrified. Outraged is a better word. But that was just the beginning: even more scandalous was spokesman for Formosa, who made a statement essentially saying that the Vietnamese had to choose between industrializing or being a fishing country. What avarice! He later apologized for his words, which in my mind seemed to be indirectly admitting and validating the environmental destruction in question. In the weeks since the ichthyology death event, many protests had been held to motivate the government to investigate. A diver also died near Đà Nẵn;, government officials had to wade out into the water to prove to the tourist-based economy that no one (else) would die. I had seen a protest the yesterday but I didn’t have a clue as to what it was about. When I asked a local he seemed in different.

As the media scrutiny grew, two explanations were given: first, a natural occurrence like an algae bloom suffocated the fish. Second, that it was indeed pollution. In my own research in my hotel room, I found that Formosa had been the center of a scandal in Cambodia in 1998. The New York Times article  details how locals were abandoning the town after they discovered that officials had been paid to receive the toxic waste.[1] Again, a question of the citizens’ trust in their governing body. 

The assumption by the polluter that, in order to modernize, a developing country such as Vietnam is required to live through the problematic mistakes that developed countries experienced 150 years ago is built into the notion of linear, sequential progression. If anything, learning from the mistakes of another country should be a strength, not a rite of passage, for these countries. Furthermore, the absence of these mistakes’ physical infrastructure should attribute to agility to these non OECD countries. Rather than mimicking the past for a future, hybrid models that draw from strengths that have sustained throughout time should be the goal of these countries.  



[1] “Tons of Waste Stir Panic in a Cambodian Town,” Associated Press/New York Times, December 22, 1998
http://www.nytimes.com/1998/12/22/world/tons-of-waste-stir-panic-in-a-cambodian-town.html



20160612 Canals of Sài Gòn

Traffic is something of an extrasensory experience.

After breakfast, shaking with caffeine and lacking a good, continuous night of sleep, I rented a motorcycle to venture out to the kênh Nghieu lộc Thị Nghề and see how much this World Bank money was changing the management of solid waste and the surrounding neighborhood. Motorcycles are the dominant form of existing in Sài Gòn and being in this flow of moving humans is an incredible experience for an American.

I had read that a loan of $450 million was lent in 2002 and repaid by 2015 and, after I downloaded the financials and itemized the fees and interest, which risked about $16 million, I wanted to see to what extent capping waste could revitalize a neighborhood. What I found was essentially what I had seen online: a tree-lined canal bordered with traffic and then neighborhood. I didn’t notice any distinctly unsafe or shabby looking divide between this area and the rest of District 1, 3, 4, or 5. In the water were occasional water lilies and at the end of the canal I saw the expected accumulation of floating debris, bottles, bags, etc. It looked like water and probably was. A few fisherman were at one end and there was space where one could easily imagine people promenading.

These canals, I’ve learned, were the original mode of moving goods throughout Sài Gòn. One could not only move around the bordering bodies of water but traverse well into the city center. Some of the canals were natural creeks, some had been created. The canalization preceded the French colonization that began in 1859 and many were filled as early as 1868 in order to make boulevards on top. The canals were deemed unhealthy, as disease and stench emanated from them. [1] [2]

The canal served an estimated 1.6 million Saigoneers and previously had been abject and filled with refuse. I find it amusing that the same reason the French capped the earlier canals were the same reasons that prevailed in compartmentalizing the wastewater, 150 years later. This canal, Thị Nghé, was one of the original borders of the city of Sài Gòn, the river being the other. Thị Nghé is a creek, which may have been the reason that it was not capped earlier.   

I drove down the canal until I got to a main road and headed away from the center. Back into the stream of motorcycles.

I drove aimlessly, thinking more of how this urban landscape might change and when than being concerned for direction or destination. There were still frequent informal structures or structures that appeared to only vaguely approach a notion of permanence. In this climate—and I’ve seen this in countries nearing the equator—often just a roof is enough to accrete humans attempting to escape the heat. Walls become a hinderance for airflow. In the city a roof may mean corrugated metal, which, inspire of its durability, cost effectiveness and practicality, really lacks the charm of palm leaf and bamboo that one may still find in the outskirts of the town.  

But traffic moved. It may seem strange to ask this question, as it had never occurred to me in any other country: but where are all these people going? It’s not rush hour, but the road was packed. It was 10 am and workers have been at their stations for a good three hours or more. Few are carrying anything in tow. Traffic in HCMC comprises one of the three most predominant activities I’ve seen here; sitting in a cafe restaurant or drinking beer comprise the other two. This isn’t to say people don’t work. Quite the contrary. But architecturally, if one is mostly on street level as a tourist is, this is what one sees. Almost every building has a ground floor establishment, which testifies the entrepreneurial attitude of the Vietnamese. But still, the question as to where all of these people are going—always—staid in my mind. 

It’s appropriate that swarm theory arose in the early 1990s when AI research sought news ways of making sense of our decision-making processes. It came at a time when groups were making new decisions like the canal, in the form of financializing cities and states through the world trade organization. I’m reminded of how those same group decisions were often accompanied by riots, another example of swarm theory. Not only are both of these actions exemplary, they fittingly occur within the primary funding and allocation of xSO research: military.   

I bring up swarm theory because it seems to be the dominant logic of the streets here, rather than say, traffic signals. Other than in the upscale (non-backpacker) tourist center where occasionally one sees traffic police, there is little regard for the force of law in a traffic light in the rest of Sài Gòn. The force of law here, doesn’t apply in traffic situations. In fact, the legitimacy of law is actually further undermined by police one most frequently finds in the streets, those who stop you for a bribe. If the inverse were the case and simply legitimate traffic tickets where given, at least the obligatory honking at each intersection to announce yourself whether you have a right away or not, would cease and reduce the urban cacophony to a rumble.   

By 10 am the sun was hot on my arms. I was cruising west on Phạm văn Dồng and being scoped out by a guy wearing a jean jacket. I caught him eyeing my pocket with my phone and was reminded how much I stand out in this city. Maybe the designer sunglasses don’t help. My size and body don’t help. The average body shape lacks noticeable muscle mass of the Saigoneers I’ve come across on District 1, 3, 4, and 5. Phúc told me that a gym membership here is very expensive. 

Lanna connected me with her contact, Amy Hong, a fellow international human rights worker who was interviewing her family during 6 months. We met in a Klassik cafe near the Bitexico tower and Nguyến Huế. She had grown up in the well-established San Jose Vietnamese community and had traced her family diaspora to France, Canada, Australia and the U.S. She spoke Vietnamese. She knew the culture. She knew the history. If I wasn’t impressed, I may have been jealous. We met near the upscale tourist area and she was just beginning her interview process. 

Her interviews inadvertently traced the Vietnamese diaspora in a personal attempt to bridge the in-law dispute that had arisen from the questionable handling of money. To make matters worse her North American relatives were pretty well of; her Vietnamese relatives were destitute. She had been living in Sài Gòn for six months preparing and improving her language skills and was filled with the enthusiasm of someone who is living her dream. 

It started raining and I had to go catch my flight. I met the siblings at the hotel and hopped into a cab when my phone rang. I’d forgotten my camera at the hotel. There wasn’t time to go back and get it so I first told them to hold onto it and I’d pick it up at the end of my tour. But then we found that the airport was so delayed that I asked them to deliver it to the airport for đ200,000. It came on time. The flight was officially 30 minutes late but we didn’t get off the ground for another 75 minutes.

Hà Nội.  


[1] “The Lost Inner-City Waterways of Saigon and Cho Lon – Part 2”
http://www.historicvietnam.com/lost-inner-city-waterways-part-2/

[2] “Métropolisation, crise écologique et développement durable: l'eau et l'habitat précaire à Ho Chi Minh-Ville, Vietnam” Michel Bassand, PPUR presses polytechnique, 2000.
https://books.google.ht/books?id=em8dpg-Gi0YC

20160613 Six Elephants in an Expanding World

Linh works in urban development sector of the World Bank managing projects primarily in HCMC, Sa Đec, and rural regions. He described his job as bringing a package of improvement methods—fixing streets, improving homes of the poor, building bridges or other infrastructure to cities and they prioritize what they want and need. To me it sounded like playing the role of an angel in a country that desperately needs anything it can get.

I had been connected to him via Amy, who rightly described their group of international development agents as ‘interesting people with a broad view.’ Linh is amazing. Coincidentally he had finished up the canal project in HCMC where I was engaging the solid waste management question. Not only did he finish that project, but he is working on the completion of the outstanding canal. As a city, HCMC suffers from water problems related to the high tide season and rainy flood season. As a result, waste management is a huge issue. The other points covered in their development grant is connecting urban planning projects, such as streets and transportation, and managing how the small portion of the 22% of the GDP of Vietnam that HCMC produces will go back into the investment of the city.

I was curious to know what the time frame for Vietnam to move from the lower middle class socioeconomic level to the upper middle class level. He didn’t have an exact time estimate, but he did fear that, as a country, they might get stuck in the middle class level, which would disqualify them for the concessional grants with very low interest rates.

Linh was very concerned about the holes in the socially oriented market economy of Vietnam because, as he said, it was like building a wall with holes in it. Because of the inefficiency of the publicly controlled consumer economy the full loop of financializing profits falls short. This may become the plateau of the middle level for Vietnam. The current big investors who are complementing the work that the WB is doing in Vietnam are South Korea, Japan and German  as well as private venture by Chinese and other foreign companies. There is so much room for development and the government has been pretty consistent which assures investors, that the WB is happy to have other investors competing for projects.

We escaped the rain by going into the museum of fine arts. I recalled the building as soon as we paid the tickets. Placed inside of a yellow colonial, three-story building, Vietnam’s visual, cultural history makes a bit of a jump from the chronologically placed first floor who showed the archeological and anthropological relics from prehistory to a collection of Buddhist artifacts and then skipped to rural proletariats yearning for revolution, the arrival of Uncle Ho, the war against America, and finally the triumph and eternal happiness of all Vietnamese people. Stylistically, almost every major European movement of the 19th and 20th century were represented in the collection. The last floor had some folk art that I expect was more representative of the art produced throughout the art history of Vietnam but fell outside of the communist narrative.

20160614 Annam | Van Lang

Hà Nội is the administrative center of Việt Nam. According to A Brief Chronology of Vietnamese History, by Hà Văn Thư and Trần Hồng Đức the region that was originally Vietnam was the northern part and referred to asAnnam. The book recounts the many invasions by the “northerners”—various dynasties from China, as well as the dynastic chronology in and around Hà Nội. Wikipedia, the corroborating source, mentions the region was called Van Lang, likely from the Sino perspective. Hà Văn Thư’s book would more accurately be titled “A Brief Chronology of Vietnam’s Dynastic History.“ 


Now, it should be noted that today, the administrative center is Hà Nội and the publishing center as well. Together, it’s no wonder that the narrative centers the origins of the Việt state (Đại Việt) there. Throughout the history of dynastic struggle, the regions referred to stretch down to modern day Hội An, which is about half way down the country. 

According to a recent archeological find in northern Laos, the oldest human remains found in Southeast Asia date to around 60,000 years and mysteriously have sub-Saharan features. The remains were found in a cave called Tam Pa Ling (Monkey cave), not far from the border of Vietnam and Hanoi. Yet the fact that this person was a mountain dweller (the cave being located at the top of a mountain) is prescient since many ethnic minorities in Vietnam today continue to live in the mountains. 

The largest ethnic group in Vietnam are the Viet or Kinh, who originated in southern China and northern Vietnam, making them a mixture between East Asians and Southeast Asians. But the Kinh were not the first nor most predominant throughout the region’s history. Today, they certainly are the majority but most importantly they dominate the historical narrative in the form of publishing and educational dissemination. Yet even reading a more neutral history of Vietnam in Wikipedia an anthropological rather than political story is told. 

Hà Văn Thư’s book is told from the perspective of the Hà Nội-based Kinh, who defended themselves and their culture from invading Chinese, Mongols, French and Americans but excludes any of the expansion, domination and subjugation of the 50+ethnicities of the rest of the country, or the Champa and Khmer Empire. Through this blindspot, the “War of American Aggression,” becomes something of a civil war. 

Hà Văn Thư’s book is very useful to make sense and give life to the street signs around cities in Vietnam. Yet continuing the previous point about the overall bias of the perspective, it also frames even the street names as part of a larger, totaling propaganda environment through which one history is aggressively told while others are completely ignored. 

In the context of dynastic warfare, the prevailing history is written by the Kinh and even the side stories of conquered dynasties which are mentioned only to further legitimize the ruling ethnicity are left out. For example, the Champa kingdom that occupied Central Vietnam is mentioned only in relation to their ultimate loss to the northern Kinh. The Montagnards of the mountains who sided with the Americans position the War of American Aggression into a larger ethnic struggle that has divided and unionized, ultimately recomposing the very definition of Việt Nam.