Introducing Betty

We found her on the street, late at night, abandoned and left to fend for herself. At first glance it would have been easy to walk past, ignoring the poor broken wretch as obviously so many had before us. Saigon is a city full of disfigurement, bodies less than perfect.

Betty lay there, her disabilities obvious. Her arms gone, no legs to carry her on her journey and blind to the outside world. Her skin marked, enough to make you want to look the other way. We couldn’t leave her in the alley, we gathered her up and took her home.

We tried to understand what she had been through before we offered her a home. Used and discarded, perhaps abused, placed in a corner, no clothes or comfort. Her first few days with us she remained silent, resultant of her trauma.

With gentle coaxing to join with us in our daily lives Betty bloomed. We forgot her attempts at suicide, a day that she made it to the roof and tried to jump. We thank God that she is legless and couldn’t propel herself to her death. She was always there when we got home and accepted our cry of “Hi Betty, I’m home” remaining silent, but with a Mona Lisa smile.

Eventually she adjusted to life in our home, enjoyed sitting quietly with a book and a coffee (although I’m not sure how she could read, no eyes and Braille would have been useless…no fingers). On sunny days she would ask to be taken outside to catch the warmth of the sun on her skin. It was always with supervision after her suicide attempt. But here she would spent time, dozing in the sun.

Betty was always looking for something to eat, it was as though she was hollow. She would shuffle to the refrigerator, pries the door open using her nose then check out the contents. Just before we moved there wasn’t much food, so she made do with a nice cold beer.

Regardless of her disabilities, Betty was determined to lead a normal life and intimate relationships were part of this. Although she still clung to some of her ways of the street, she was slowly assimilating. It took some time before we could get her to dress properly, and this was an embarrassment to us when friends called around. But that was her way, that was Betty.

We discussed with her our plans to move to Hanoi, and to our delight she wanted to come with us. So, being part of the family, she has relocated with us. The climate here is a little cooler, so we have been able to coax her into some light clothing. She loved the train trip, became a bit of a celebrity on the train, everyone taking a second look.

Here in our new accommodation, she has a room to herself, spends her days listening to music but is still there to great us as we get home and call out “Betty, I’m home”. We are not sure if we will be able to take her home to Australia when we eventually return, so that you all have a chance to meet her. She may be brainless, all boobs and bum but she is so lovable and will always remain in our hearts.

North By Rail

Train seemed the best option for our big move north, it was the cheapest, most convenient was to travel. In total it cost us about 3 million dong for our luggage and 2 first class tickets. That probably equates to about $A200. Train travel seemed to have lots of things going for it. We could take our large volume of luggage, the motorbike could be transported with ease, the view promised to be spectacular and, after a few harrowing weeks of preparation, the time should be relaxing. While we delighted in the thought of the gentle movement of the train lulling us to sleep, I was extremely cautious about the conveniences. And my concerns were well founded. Squat toilet.... on a moving train.... a 30 hour journey.... about 30 people, plus staff, I will leave the rest to your imagination. There was a western style toilet as well, but for some reason that was locked for half the journey. I didn't eat or drink much.
Our cabin was really quite reasonable. Luckily we had the four berth to ourselves for all but about 4 hour of the trip, so we could spread out. The cabin was air-conditioned and the large window gave us a good view of the countryside as it rolled by. The scenery didn't let us down although the coastal stretch was hindered by light rain and photos hard to get without power lines strung across the middle. We were lucky, we had reasonable comfort, an cool cabin and soft bed. Standards dropped away with ticket price, down to a hard sleeper which was a plank bed, next a soft seat, then a hard seat. So we had nothing to complain about.
The countryside was so green, paddy fields a vibrant colour dotted with workers bent over intent on task. Water buffalo stood there as though placed to make the scene more authentic. There was a lot of water around, flooding from recent rains as well as that which had been chanelled for the rice crop. Narrow dirt paths led from one hut to another and children could be seen bicycling home from school at midday. The yards in front of the houses were concrete and grains would be spread out to dry in the sun. Chickens would peck around and an old women could be seen squatting, a scalf wrapped around her head. Children were held up to watch the train go by and encouraged to wave. Washing was hung, poked into the cyclone wire fence to catch the breeze. It all looked like a simple life, but a hard one. Water carried in a bucket from the huge ceramic pot at the side of the house, washing done while squatting at a large plastic bowl on the ground.
We moved past it all, countryside giving way to cities. In some places, it was as though tunnels had been left between the houses for the train to pass, walls so close to the track you could almost touch them. There was a feeling of intrusion through open windows into someones world. At the station the train would stop for no longer that half an hour. Stalls set up along the station had things to tempt, either foods or trinkets to remind you of the trip. All hoping to catch a few tourist dollars. We rolled on, cities giving way to countryside, day turning to night and that gentle rocking motion to put us to sleep.
Before the sun was up, there was a knock on the door and we were on the doorstep of Hanoi. The train slowed and crept into the centre of the city, quiet so as not to wake anyone. But lights were on, people already in the streets as Hanoi started another day. Manually operated boomgates held the motorbikes back from the track as we went through the crossings. Eventually we were there. Evereyone scurried for the doors, keen to be out of the confined spaces. We ferried our belongings off the train and onto a trolley waiting on the platform. Down the steps of the train and onto another stage of our adventure here in Vietnam.

See Ya Saigon Hello Hanoi

It seemed to take forever to plan once the decision was made. To move a household from one end of the country to the other is probably easier if firstly you speak the language. We got over that with a little help from our friends. The second advantage was having struck up a friendship with a guy who happens to be in a senior position with the railways. We called in all favours and made life a little easier for ourselves.
Of course before we could start our journey we had to pack the house up. We sold off some things, gave away others and thought we had reduced the amount of gear we had to move. That was, until it came to fitting it into suitcases. Two cases became four, four became six, and that was just our check-in. We then carried a jumble of about eight bags, pillows (for comfort on the journey) laptop bags and camera cases. What a sight arriving at the station.
As we packed, we shifted things down a level in the house, leaving rooms vacant and ready for the new occupants. Eventually it was all assembled in the lounge room, a year of our life in boxes. Surprisingly we managed to get it all into one taxi and get it to the station the day before our departure, so that it could be taken to Hanoi and be ready for us to collect when we arrived.
With the packing and cleaning all taken care of, we continued the social rounds of farewell dinners. Saying goodbye was an intoxicating event, a meal here, a few drinks there. But really the world is a small place and we are only a short flight away. We had our last drinks at The Sheraton, watching the sun set over The Rex. This was one of the first stunning views we had seen of Saigon so it was only fitting that it was one of the last.

The Sun Sets on Saigon