Flood

Tonight, the scene in front of my school building was surreal. Sheets of rain poured down as busses, cars (out of place and inappropriate for Hanoi), and motorbikes waded in thigh-deep water. The water, brown with muck, lapped  in small waves on the stairs to the entrance of my school. Persistent motorbike drivers trudged through the water, yet they were stalled by smoking engines, stalled motors, and the inability to keep enough speed to keep moving. The motorbike drivers who stopped driving took shelter in the already flooded sidewalk and decided not to fight through the clogged and chaotic streets. Horns were blaring, people were shouting and laughing, and the water was rushing through all the spaces between the stalled vehicles and people.  I craned my head out of the shelter of my school to see a sea of helmet-clad heads - drivers gathered in both directions (left and right), waiting for the still-rising water to recede. By the time is was 9 o'clock the other teachers and I were so tired that we decided to make a plan to brave the traffic, water, and chaos to try and get to a safe, dry house. Another teacher volunteered to drive me home, so I hopped on the back of his motorbike and held my breath as we whizzed down the ramp into the water of the streets. Slowly, we manuvered through the streets without being able to see what we were driving into. The water soaked our legs and was nearly up to our thighs on the bike.  Winding around the other vehicles and people was an amazing feeling - it was like floating though chaos. We finally reached a main intersection when we realized we could go no further. Thousands of bikes and people were stuck because there was no where to go and no room to move. People were packed in so tight there was not even a path for me to walk through. The water was higher and faster, so we gave up and realized we were better off where we started from. The motorbike stalled constantly on the way back, and eventually we gave up and started walking. I looked down at the water and noticed a black Croc sandal bobbing up and down like a fishing bobber.  I started to think about what else was in the water. 

When we got back to the school, we found our other co-workers huddled there and decided to walk in a different direction to see where we could end up. Tired, shivering, and totally waterlogged, we steeled ourselves for another attempt at the streets. Slowly, I stepped into the water, pushing one leg ahead of the other over and over until we made it to a shallow, higher area where the sidewalk was visible through a few inches of water. We spotted a taxi, and my vietnamese friend told the driver to take me and another woman home. The deal was set and the price worked out. We hopped in the cab. An hour later, after stalling in traffic and water, the cab finally dropped me off in an alley near my house. I felt confused and couldn't remember which direction to walk, but i didn't say anything. I just got out and walked away, glad I didn't have to sit anymore in the humid, damp cab. At vietnamese man, about my age, was walking ahead of me and I decided to try and ask him for directions. "Ciao ban, Loung Dinh Cua?" He replied in what sounded like English. I repeated myself and he said "Yes, I know. Walk with me." So I did, and now I am home glued onto my couch amazed at one hell of a night. 

Until next time,

natalie

ps-pictures of students and more details on teaching to come...to overwhelmed now to talk more.