Thanh Nien invites us to Meet Bill from Saigon -- doesn't look a day over 80 but apparently he's in his 50s. It's a clip made by an American guy who was smitten by Bill -- real name Hung -- and his youthful exuberance. His clip on youtube has been watched over 69,000 times. Proof we'll watch anything someone else has watched. I just did anyway. I was person 69,169. Seems like a lovely old fella but hardly surprising that an old guy can speak English in Saigon, is it? Near my office there's a hall of geriatric table tennis enthusiasts and one of them speaks Spanish, French, German and Russian and even some Chinese. It disappoints him no end that as I speak none of those languages we have to speak in Vietnamese and so he doesn't have a chance to show off in front of his mates.

1) A wee CAMA shindig on Halloween night -- details there at Hanoi Grapevine the new Arts listings blog

2) (Almost) time to invest in North Korea? Apparently the wee man is into the Vietnam-economic-template -- however unlikely that is.

3) Language evolves: apparently Thuy Linh is now an adjective and a verb. "Don't be Thuy Linh", or "don't do a Thuy Linh..." Still not quite sure how that works... but anyway, the people who uploaded the sex-clip featuring Thuy Linh have been rounded up and arrested and "according to Vietnamese criminal law, the culprits would be fined some VND3-30 million (US$300-3,000), probation up to three years, and possibly three imprisonment depending on their involvement." Thuy Linh herself is in the clear (of course though her career is over) but she might have a new fiance...

4) No reason to mention football this Monday as the Minsk FC's season has gone completely pear shaped.

5) Apparently the Irish invented the words baloney, jazz and dude and many more. Well, according to that guy anyway. Can't vouch for it but a few make certain sense -- go leor becomes galore, uisce to whisky, Teddy de Burca Snr. points out Slan becoming so long, and so on.

RE jazz: OF ALL THE hundreds of American slang words that he [Cassidy, the author] has traced back to the Irish language, his favourite is jazz. Ironically, the name is associated with African-American music, though the earliest performers of "jazz" didn't like the word. Jazz comes from "teas", a noun for heat, passion and excitement. He's traced the use of "jazz" as a synonym for sex as far back as 1899. Musician Richard Holbrooke wrote in 1974: "I shall be glad to swear on oath before a notary public that 'jazz' as a sex word was not only used in San Francisco before the earthquake and fire, but that it was of such common use that it was a localism."

"Jazz was so full of jasm and gism ('teas ioma' - an abundance of heat and passion; figuratively semen) that no one could, or would, write it down. In 1913, it was a word you learned by ear - like jazz music."

Ex-Hanoi resident and illustrator extraordinaire Paul Oslo Davis has his first animation online called Personal Hygiene. Check it out -- hover your mouse over the right hand side and click on the black and white eyes...

It's part of a show called Animated which features 14 short self-portrait animations by a collection of Australian illustrators and animators working in a range of styles -- presented by the National Portrait Gallery in Canberra.

And while I have ya -- speaking of Australian culture....

New head of hair : On Phu Dong Thien Vuong street a small shop’s sign simply reads Chay (Louse). Inside the staff offer an equally simple but unusual service – picking out grey hairs. The boss is 20-something Nguyen Anh Dung, who packed in his job at a foreign-invested firm to become the pioneer of grey-hair-plucking in Vietnam, if not the world. Five months ago when Dung opened the shop, he could neither hire anyone to work in his shop nor get an advertisement in a newspaper as people thought it just plain daft – or possibly too weird. Dung persuaded his relatives to help him out and has got his business up and running and trade is good enough for him to be contemplating opening a second shop. This time, Dung says he might advertise as a normal barber’s to ensure a smoother start up. For those of you who are heading the way of Steve Martin, a one hour service costs VND30,000.

The international papers are really digging this Thuy Linh scandal: Her fall from grace has highlighted the generational fault-lines in Vietnam, a sexually conservative culture within which women have been taught for centuries to remain chaste until marriage and stay true to one man — no matter how many times he cheats on them.

... new ideas about free love are much harder to accept than the free market. And unlike men, women who break the old sexual taboos are not easily forgiven.

In the old days, Khanh said, a woman who had sex before marriage would be ostracized — and rightfully so.

"A good girl must keep herself clean until she is married," Khanh said. "Thuy Linh should be condemned. If I ever see her again on TV, I will turn it off, for sure."

Life, eventually, will move on.

Racers busted
A bunch of young boy racers came a cropper with the coppers recently.

Of course, 32 arrests from a speculative total of 1,000 racers means -- by my swift calculations -- there's another 968 racers still raring to rock and roll come the weekend. Guess the clampdown might deter them but I'd imagine only briefly.

One officer kicks off the blame game by suggesting that a "lack of supervision" from parents leads to such races.

Methinks more parents should be encouraged to sit on their children from the hours of 1am to 4am. Should clear up this problem in no time.

Who's next in line for Pittstop troubleshooting?

Well, it's been all beautiful Autumn days and diddley-squat else here at Pittstop HQ.

Vietnam's been a flutter with a sexual scandal -- even the beeb is talking about it -- involving a 19-year old TV star: "This is the most scandalous and controversial thing that has ever happened in Vietnam's virtual world."

...meanwhile the boys are crowding the girls out in Vietnam: "...over the past few years, in tandem with rising incomes and easier access to clinics that determine foetal sex and conduct abortions, the number of male births has raced ahead of female ones. Already, the number of boys born in many regions of Vietnam exceeds those of girls by 20 per cent or more..."

Sadly the much anticipated season of glory for Minsk FC is yet to get going. Pictures here. Playing at My Dinh Stadium – on the training pitch rather than inside the stadium, alas – the boys were under the cosh for most of the first half, but thanks to some resolute defending and Ali's goalkeeping heroics it was only 2-0 at half time rather than 10 -0. In the second half the lads went three down before deciding to fight back, but two goals were too little too late. For a team with aspirations of winning the title, a heroic loss doesn't cut the mustard anymore but... "It's more of a marathon with a very slow, laboured start rather than what you might call a quick sprint," the Gaffer John Cinnamon reassured the lads.

Bradford's Zippos

Monsieur Bradford Edwards' Vietnam-American-war era zippos and zippo-pieces are on display in Santa Barbara... there's a wee video clip embedded in that report.

"A lot of these sentiments I heard before, 'We're the unwilling led by the unqualified doing the unnecessary for the ungrateful'," he says. "It rings a bell."

Zippos by the thousands were left behind in Vietnam. Fifteen years ago artist Bradford Edwards began collecting them at Vietnamese flea markets.

There's a more in depth piece on Edwards and his zippos from the NY Times last year here: He collects the metal lighters by the hundreds; he studies them; he celebrates them as tiny symbols. He searches for deeper meanings in the epigrams etched into their shiny sides by the American soldiers who left them behind. With grave whimsy he turns them into art.

If Vietnam and his warrior father remain enigmas to him, the answer, perhaps — if it is not blowing in the wind — can be found etched on the sides of Zippo lighters:

“Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for I am the evilest son of a bitch in the valley.”

“Death is my business and business has been good.”

“I’m not scared, just lonesome.”

“Please! Don’t tell me about Vietnam because I have been there.”

“I know I’m going to heaven because I’ve spent my time in hell: Vietnam.”

“Ours is not to do or die, ours is to smoke and stay high.”

“You’ve never really lived until you’ve nearly died.”

“If you got this off my dead ass I hope it brings you the same luck it brought me.”

Hear about contemporary art scene updates on the Grapevine
Hanoi has an art scene that you might not know about. Some of ye might not care while others, yes, you want to be out there rubbing shoulders with les artistes, sipping on red wine and scratching your chin earnestly but the problem is you're always hearing about all these cool exhibitions after the ship has sailed. When you arrive the exhibition is over and no one is around to see you scratch your chin... you retreat to the nearest bar and commence the simple process of inebriation and -- if you're like me -- talk about either sport, traffic or the weather.

One local artist was so sick of missing events himself, he's decided to post stuff he does hear of to help circulate information (and hopefully attract more info as he can't post what he doesn't hear of, if you knowwhadimean) so others can find out about some cool exhibitions and events and so forth.

If you're interested check out the blog -- Hanoi Grapevine. You can also sign up for the mailing list there.

Bits and pieces

1) More food blogging: Besides gas•tron•o•my which I pointed out a few posts back, there's also The Last Appetite – a pretty slick looking food blog – also based in Vietnam.

2) You might of read about the plastic Russian policeman who helped reduce speeding by his sheer presence -- and presence alone -- last year, while now in Australia a new campaign aims to tease men into slowing down. The "little pinkie" campaign suggests men who speed are compensating for something.
Sixty-one per cent of young males surveyed for the research believed the campaign had the power to make them think about their own driving behaviour, he said.

"This campaign is about saving lives - not pride. If it dents a few egos but helps save a life, then it's worth it," Mr Roozendaal said.

It'll be a while till such an ad might hit this neighbourhood I suppose. I reckon the Russian approach might be duoc-able though. Either that or a huge generic-mother-like figure looming over the traffic lights.

(Cheers to Caitlin for the link...)

3) A local celebrity-gossip blogger will be sued by a singer for defamation... apparently the word 'nymphet' was used... but looking at the singer I'm guessing that's a mistranslation.

4) If you're trying to save petrol money perhaps an Alaskan Malamute is the answer...

5) Flooding has already been a total disaster for some impoverished people in Hai Lang district, Quang Tri province in Central Vietnam. After local authorities organised a relocation plan to move houses away from flooded lands, 47 families from Hai Lang were relocated to a hilly area in Hai Lam commune and offered an allowance of VND4.7 million ($300) to build a new house. The families already feeling a bit shortchanged then discovered that the area is a former battle field full of unexploded ordnance. Nearby a sign posted by Renew, an organisation specialising in disarming mines and explosives, warns of the possible dangers of setting foot on the land. Perhaps a mistake made in haste? Unlikely, the plans for the relocation were made 10 years ago.
(Source Timeout)

6) Another bloody 0-0 result for the Minsk Football Club over the weekend -- no review yet but there are a couple of photos – and the strikers are not happy, ahem.

Next week we will be playing at the National Stadium however. That's right – the fortress of My Dinh itself. More on that later...

Hirsute head bopping
More Stylish Nonsense -- my new favourite people from Bangkok. There's a few more videos up on youtube of their shows around the world...

This one is the song -- live in Hanoi -- I linked to a few days back in its entirety...



...and this one is the belter, which they played third I think, when the crowd went oh-yeah, live in Berlin. Sound quality is not the Mae West but you get the general gist.

If you like Vietnam-food blogs, in the style of Sticky Rice (Hanoi), and noodlepie (which is no longer in Vietnam), there is now gas•tron•o•my. It's based in HCM City.

It was Hanoi's most handsome footballers, the Minsk Football Club versus Hanoi's most French footballers - the Drink team on Saturday. The Minsk strikers faltered but thankfully their defense and GK didn't. A scoreless draw in the end. Pictures here and a particularly good one of the bouncing gaffer. Despite two scrappy draws and three injuries in three weeks, the Gaffer is refusing to panic.
"It's a marathon not a sprint," he would have told the press if the press were listening.

Nothing much happening here at Pittstop HQ, but here's a few vids for the bored and restless

1) Check out a short snippet from Stylish Nonsense at the recent CAMA show in Hanoi. One of the happiest performers I've ever set eyes on. Would like to see a vid of the third song, which was a belter.

2) For those of you who care, extraordinary scenes on the rugby field at the Coupe de Monde (renamed the Coupe de Merde by some in Ireland).

Worth watching the Haka again, if not the whole game, but also the forward pass that led to the winning try... oh dear, methinks that referee won't be welcome in New Zealand anytime soon.

* A journalist for the Age hangs on to his plastic stool on a night out over at Hanoi's bia hoi corner

1) "I cannot imagine myself wearing trendy clothes together with a helmet," said Le Tra My, 18, who was shopping for hats at an upscale store in Hanoi. "It will look awful." Read on.

Like I'm so not wearing one - puh-lease! But as of Dec. 15th they say it's the law. We shall see...

2) Yup - storm a-coming. Walk away from the water.

The Minsk Football Club's season is underway: A hard fought 2-2 draw with ESE -- match report here -- out in the strange new universe that exists around UNIS.

Like driving around the set for the Truman Show out there.

Author's note: The weather cooled off last week and I ended up opening the sock drawer for the first time since April. Of course since then it got hot again but don't tell the socks...


Ode to a sweet reunion
Well, hello socks. It’s been a while hasn’t it? But don’t worry – no longer shall I be gallivanting around town sockless a la Tubbs and Crockett. There is chill is in the air that only brings me closer to you.

For months I’ve been seen everywhere with my feet scantily clad by those racy summertime harlots, my sandals, while sipping on Mojitos and sitting under the breeze of the nearest fan. My lord, how foolish I must have looked, like a middle aged married man drunkenly showing off a young girlfriend in a crowded bar.

At times I thought that summer would last forever. But they never do, do they my dear socks? Your annual re-emergence is proof that time marches on, seasons come and seasons go. Soon the cold weather will strip the blossoms bare and little old me, why I’ll be wrapped up head to toe in woollies, teeth chattering, cursing the depths of winter, praying that it won’t last forever; but let’s not go there just yet, for now the scarves, hats and gloves remain stored away. For now let’s enjoy our sweet, selfish and intimate reunion.

Autumn has arrived and with it a pleasantly cool air. Now like two young student lovers after a long summer apart, we shall go everywhere together, be seen by everyone around this campus people call Hanoi; we shall be inseparable once more. Each morning my feet will slip unto you, like… well, like a hand would unto a glove, but let’s not speak of those distant and lofty relatives of yours, let us speak of us.

I know I have said some foolish things in the past, haven’t we all dear socks. Once I remember declaring it was a joy to be so free and easy in the foot department and how I could live, quite happily, without you forever more.

I admit that my house smelt approximately nine thousand times better with out sweaty-Argyles and malodorous thermals lying around the house, but how can I fault you for my own body’s rank emissions?

You certainly never complained. You soaked it all up and it all came out in the wash (with the kind assistance of my dear housekeeper). Then when the sun broke and the sounds of summer hummed, I callously tied you all up into a giant socktupus (the freeform creation, which occurs when 22 pairs of old socks and a few dozen odd socks become one entity), slid open this drawer and hurled you into the darkness of exile and solitude – with the exception of my old unworn underpants, who have their own brave and chequered history to make peace with.

But you, my dear socks, your summertime hibernation is at an end; we shall dilly-dally no more. From here on out, with the exception of those of you that have too many holes and will be turned into dusters (alas, the sword must outwear its sheath), we shall go a-roving once more!

With the exception of really hot late Autumn days that is.

By Teddy de Burca Jnr.