the dance of Vietnam’s traffic
Three days after my arrival, about two months ago, I had my first ride on a scooter, in the empty alleys of district 7, Saigon. Two days later I had my first dance, a mix between tango and swing, on my way home.
The traffic in Ho Chi Minh strongly resembles a school of fish. A delicate anarchy with occasional flaws. The only way to survive is to either follow the stream, or fill in the gaps. I personally prefer the latter, the swinging in and out of danger, following the footsteps of the dancer in front of me. Only to abandon the example and changing the rhythm to my own likings. A rhythm that suits my own style, and gets me through the dancing mass in front of me. Swerving, floating over the pavement, into more or less dangerous positions.
The style varies from rock to step, from ballroom to east coast swing. slow in the morning, vivid through the day, smooth in the evening, and fast during the night. The early morning can be best described as a blank canvas. a drumbeat, ready to be interpreted the way any dancers foot would go to the rhythm
I will be here for four more months, dancing with the mass. Ending it with a decent bow, greeting it with a kiss on the hand. Let’s just hope I don’t try the wrong steps, the dance of traffic has no mercy for out-of-count steps.