Viet Nam
Another week, another trip.
Am I the only one reminded of Metallica’s lyrics in “No Remorse”?
Anyway, this one starts somewhat differently - not with a cab ride to the airport. Actually, it does that, but not from home. After waking my daughters and saying goodbye to my family, I walk to the subway, my suitcase in tow. It’s getting a little ragged around the edges, but it’s sure seen a lot of wear, so I don’t blame the maker. I’m a little later than usual, and find that the rush hour is ebbing off. Not that I’d get a seat, but maneuvering my suitcase, laptop bag and backpack around isn’t the challenge I expected. I drop in at work for a short moment only - to grab a bowl of oatmeal from the cafeteria and to check my email (and activate the out-of-office-notification). Then it’s off to the Visa office to reclaim my passport and Laissez-Passez (that blue thing which supposedly acts as a second passport, like a diplomatic passport, only it’s not).
And then off to the Vietnamese embassy. Getting the pre-approval for a visa takes two weeks - three if it’s Chinese New Year (it was). This means that my pre-approval notice (sent by telex, for god’s sake, who knew that old tech is still being used?) of which at least a scan was sent by email didn’t quite make it in time. Also, the sender seems not to be fully aware of the “reply to all” function to email. Anyway, the cab gets me to the embassy and waits, while I run up and - wait. At least I’m the first in line. Technically, a young lady went in ahead because it seemed the polite thing to do (we’d shared the elevator up), at least until I realized that the door I let her go through ahead of me was the door separating me from the room where visa applicants wait, thereby establishing a sort of order of precedence. But we quickly establish that I’m in a hurry and she’s not, and she gets her visa well before I do anyway (because after I’m done discussing with the lady that I need my visa within half an hour, I sit down to wait and the young lady only has to pick up hers).
But, lo and behold, they actually do give me my visa within half an hour. And only charge the usual 50 USD for it rather than the 70 Dollars the lady initially took from me for a rush job (or even the 80 Dollars the officially published notice says a rush job would cost). I’m not asking any questions right now (having realized, if not fully internalized, some time ago that stupid questions have the annoying habit of generating stupid answers).
The cab waits and gets me to the airport in due time. No traffic jams, even though there is construction on the road. I breeze through check-in and security and find that it’s taken me only half an hour from the curbside cab stop to the business lounge across from my departure gate, having stopped on the way to pick up the latest copy of the Economist.
It strikes me as I sit down for a cranberry muffin and decaf courtesy of Korean Air that people (in my observation) tend not to value enough the times when things go as they should. If I’d been stuck in traffic, my kneejerk reaction would have been “of course, right now when I’m in a hurry”. It seems everybody’s usual reaction. Some people seem nearly convinced that the universe, on days like that, really is out to get them.
I have two observations to make in that regard. One I am still struggling with, which is that we make our own reality. In the way we interact with people at least, we generate the environment in which we live. People tend to react to expectations, and so expecting the worst of people is not good for anyone. I’m not sure to which degree having expected the worst is actually better than having expected better in situations in which the worst actually happens. Does it insulate us from harm? I honestly don’t know, though I have to admit I harbor my doubts.
More easily quantifiable is my second observation: It’s that when people aren’t in a rush, they don’t notice being held up by extraneous circumstances so much. Nor do they (particularly) notice the days they’re in a hurry and don’t get held up. It’s only when we’re in a hurry *and* get held up that we notice this, and begin railing against a hostile universe. I am convinced that on average, things go wrong about as often at times when it doesn’t matter as they do at times when you really, really needed things to go right. Again, I’m not sure that this realization insulates me from harm. But I do believe that it lends me a certain acceptance when things go pear-shaped and allows me to appreciate, more than I otherwise would, some of the times when things go as they should.
I’m on a fourteen hour flight from DC, going West far enough to cross the date line. This means I leave at noon and land in the afternoon of what, according to local time, is the next day. About three hours of layover in Seoul’s Incheon International Aiport, then another five hour flight to Hanoi. I should arrive there late in the evening, hoping to be in the hotel by midnight. There’s been a number of reshuffling of schedules (as well as a genuine misunderstanding, I believe) so I don’t have anything to do the day after I arrive besides a pre-meeting over lunch. So I’ll try to see a bit of the city. There’s lots of stuff to keep me occupied besides finishing the peer-review-engendered changes to the Solomon Islands’ Assessment Report (which I hope to finish on the flight to Hanoi and upload when I get there - time do dose up on caffeine anyway, or I won’t have a chance to adjust to local time). I forgot to pack any ties, for starters. Dumb. But then I’d wanted to buy two or three more besides the five I own anyway, and it strikes me that Viet Nam is *just* the place to do this. Then I might want to find a place to work out in some (preferably local) form of Martial Art, and/or find something cool and outdoorsy to do over the weekend I’m here. Probably not all doable in one day, but at least I won’t be bored (though I can’t remember the last time I was). It really is a really, really long day for me today, though - 36 hours from midnight to midnight. I am going literally to the other side of the planet. I’ll post more once I got there.
Am I the only one reminded of Metallica’s lyrics in “No Remorse”?
Anyway, this one starts somewhat differently - not with a cab ride to the airport. Actually, it does that, but not from home. After waking my daughters and saying goodbye to my family, I walk to the subway, my suitcase in tow. It’s getting a little ragged around the edges, but it’s sure seen a lot of wear, so I don’t blame the maker. I’m a little later than usual, and find that the rush hour is ebbing off. Not that I’d get a seat, but maneuvering my suitcase, laptop bag and backpack around isn’t the challenge I expected. I drop in at work for a short moment only - to grab a bowl of oatmeal from the cafeteria and to check my email (and activate the out-of-office-notification). Then it’s off to the Visa office to reclaim my passport and Laissez-Passez (that blue thing which supposedly acts as a second passport, like a diplomatic passport, only it’s not).
And then off to the Vietnamese embassy. Getting the pre-approval for a visa takes two weeks - three if it’s Chinese New Year (it was). This means that my pre-approval notice (sent by telex, for god’s sake, who knew that old tech is still being used?) of which at least a scan was sent by email didn’t quite make it in time. Also, the sender seems not to be fully aware of the “reply to all” function to email. Anyway, the cab gets me to the embassy and waits, while I run up and - wait. At least I’m the first in line. Technically, a young lady went in ahead because it seemed the polite thing to do (we’d shared the elevator up), at least until I realized that the door I let her go through ahead of me was the door separating me from the room where visa applicants wait, thereby establishing a sort of order of precedence. But we quickly establish that I’m in a hurry and she’s not, and she gets her visa well before I do anyway (because after I’m done discussing with the lady that I need my visa within half an hour, I sit down to wait and the young lady only has to pick up hers).
But, lo and behold, they actually do give me my visa within half an hour. And only charge the usual 50 USD for it rather than the 70 Dollars the lady initially took from me for a rush job (or even the 80 Dollars the officially published notice says a rush job would cost). I’m not asking any questions right now (having realized, if not fully internalized, some time ago that stupid questions have the annoying habit of generating stupid answers).
The cab waits and gets me to the airport in due time. No traffic jams, even though there is construction on the road. I breeze through check-in and security and find that it’s taken me only half an hour from the curbside cab stop to the business lounge across from my departure gate, having stopped on the way to pick up the latest copy of the Economist.
It strikes me as I sit down for a cranberry muffin and decaf courtesy of Korean Air that people (in my observation) tend not to value enough the times when things go as they should. If I’d been stuck in traffic, my kneejerk reaction would have been “of course, right now when I’m in a hurry”. It seems everybody’s usual reaction. Some people seem nearly convinced that the universe, on days like that, really is out to get them.
I have two observations to make in that regard. One I am still struggling with, which is that we make our own reality. In the way we interact with people at least, we generate the environment in which we live. People tend to react to expectations, and so expecting the worst of people is not good for anyone. I’m not sure to which degree having expected the worst is actually better than having expected better in situations in which the worst actually happens. Does it insulate us from harm? I honestly don’t know, though I have to admit I harbor my doubts.
More easily quantifiable is my second observation: It’s that when people aren’t in a rush, they don’t notice being held up by extraneous circumstances so much. Nor do they (particularly) notice the days they’re in a hurry and don’t get held up. It’s only when we’re in a hurry *and* get held up that we notice this, and begin railing against a hostile universe. I am convinced that on average, things go wrong about as often at times when it doesn’t matter as they do at times when you really, really needed things to go right. Again, I’m not sure that this realization insulates me from harm. But I do believe that it lends me a certain acceptance when things go pear-shaped and allows me to appreciate, more than I otherwise would, some of the times when things go as they should.
I’m on a fourteen hour flight from DC, going West far enough to cross the date line. This means I leave at noon and land in the afternoon of what, according to local time, is the next day. About three hours of layover in Seoul’s Incheon International Aiport, then another five hour flight to Hanoi. I should arrive there late in the evening, hoping to be in the hotel by midnight. There’s been a number of reshuffling of schedules (as well as a genuine misunderstanding, I believe) so I don’t have anything to do the day after I arrive besides a pre-meeting over lunch. So I’ll try to see a bit of the city. There’s lots of stuff to keep me occupied besides finishing the peer-review-engendered changes to the Solomon Islands’ Assessment Report (which I hope to finish on the flight to Hanoi and upload when I get there - time do dose up on caffeine anyway, or I won’t have a chance to adjust to local time). I forgot to pack any ties, for starters. Dumb. But then I’d wanted to buy two or three more besides the five I own anyway, and it strikes me that Viet Nam is *just* the place to do this. Then I might want to find a place to work out in some (preferably local) form of Martial Art, and/or find something cool and outdoorsy to do over the weekend I’m here. Probably not all doable in one day, but at least I won’t be bored (though I can’t remember the last time I was). It really is a really, really long day for me today, though - 36 hours from midnight to midnight. I am going literally to the other side of the planet. I’ll post more once I got there.