Ho
Chi
Minh
City
(or
“Saigon”
as
many
of
the
locals
still
call
it)
has
its
own
rhythms.
Walkable
in
a
way
that
doesn’t
exist
stateside,
an
American
can
stroll
for
hours
in
the
oppressive
afternoon
heat.
One
might
make
it
only
two
or
three
blocks
at
a
time,
drawn
in
to
a
local
bar
to
punctuate
each
short
jaunt
with
an
ice-cold
beer
that
can
be
had
for
the
equivalent
of
a
fistful
of
pennies.
The
non-suicidal
Westerner
will
necessarily
get
around
mostly
on
foot.
Vietnam
is
worth
visiting
for
the
traffic
alone.
The
streets
buzz
day
and
night
with
the
whine
of
little
100cc
and
125cc
motorcycles.
I
have
my
motorcycle
license
endorsement,
and
I
rode
bikes
–
mainly
big,
American-made
cruisers
–
for
a
decade.
I
wouldn’t
dare
to
enter
the
stream
of
traffic
in
Saigon
on
a
motorcycle.
As
a
pedestrian,
the
American
style
of
street-crossing
(to
wait
for
the
directions
of
a
traffic
light
or
to
pause
until
a
sufficient
gap
in
the
traffic
presents
itself)
is
a
nonoption.
This
would
lead
to
entire
lives
lived
on
street
corners.
Instead,
you
start
walking
—
never
dashing,
never
being
indecisive,
always
at
a
constant,
confident
pace
—
and
the
people
on
motorbikes
deftly
swerve
around
you.
You
marvel
at
the
ingenuity
of
what
gets
transported
on
motorcycles
that
a
single
average-sized
American
would
struggle
to
fit
onto.
A
family
of
four
is
de
rigueur.
Once
I
saw
a
man
speed
by
with
at
least
half
a
dozen
50-gallon
drums
lashed
together
and
impossibly
balanced
above
him.
I
witnessed
a
single
traffic
accident.
The
drivers
involved
shouted
and
gesticulated
wildly
at
one
another
for
a
minute,
as
their
cohorts
continued
to
swarm
around
them,
then
each
picked
up
his
motorbike
and
continued
on.
Four-wheeled
vehicles
are
not
unheard
of
in
Vietnam.
In
the
city,
I
crawled
along
in
one
slower
than
I
could
walk,
trapped
in
a
little
bubble
created
for
us
by
all
the
motorcycles.
Out
in
the
Mekong
Delta,
we
took
a
van
on
the
way
to
the
boats.
Though
this
van
did
have
its
own
Wi-Fi
that
seemed
to
work
just
fine
even
well
out
into
the
jungle,
it
was
a
practical,
utilitarian
affair,
far
from
the
luxuriant
family
minivans
with
built-in
touchscreens
that
we
are
used
to
in
the
United
States.
Individual
tastes
differ,
of
course,
but
I
think
it’s
fair
to
say
that
the
Vietnamese
generally
value
practicality,
affordability,
and
suitability
for
the
existing
traffic
culture
when
it
comes
to
their
vehicles.
It
is
an
absurd
fantasy
to
think
that
Vietnam
is
going
to
start
importing,
in
large
numbers,
huge,
expensive,
gas-guzzling
American-made
SUVs.
In
announcing
a
new
trade
deal
with
Vietnam,
President
Donald
Trump
said,
“It
is
my
opinion
that
the
SUV
or,
as
it
is
sometimes
referred
to,
Large
Engine
Vehicle,
which
does
so
well
in
the
United
States,
will
be
a
wonderful
addition
to
the
various
product
lines
within
Vietnam.”
Never
going
to
happen.
Even
with
no
trade
barriers
to
selling
our
big,
dumb
SUVs
in
Vietnam,
which
is
what
Trump
is
claiming
his
trade
deal
will
accomplish
(though
we
have
yet
to
see
any
details),
the
U.S.
is
not
going
to
move
a
lot
of
SUVs
there.
You’ll
find
somewhat
different
figures
depending
on
the
source,
but
the
equivalent
of
$697
per
month
seems
to
be
a
pretty
high-end
estimate
of
the
average
salary
in
Vietnam.
Meanwhile,
the
average
price
of
a
new
vehicle
in
the
U.S.
stands
at
about
$48,000.
You
can
do
the
math
on
that.
Trump
says
that
although
Vietnam
will
be
able
to
import
U.S.
goods
with
a
0%
tariff,
American
importers
will
pay
a
20%
tariff
on
Vietnamese
goods
(we
import
far
more
from
Vietnam
than
we
export
to
it).
There
will
also
be
a
40%
levy
on
shipments
from
third
countries
that
are
routed
through
Vietnam
(Trump
added
no
details
about
how
the
levy
on
trans-shipments
would
be
implemented
and
enforced).
President
Trump’s
new
trade
deal
will
not
lead
to
a
bonanza
of
American
SUV
sales
to
people
who
don’t
want
them
and
can’t
afford
them.
The
Vietnamese
are
already
building
better
and
far
cheaper
vehicles
on
their
own.
In
the
off
chance
that
I’m
wrong,
though,
get
there
before
America’s
bigger-is-better
vehicular
lunacy
ruins
Vietnamese
traffic
culture.
What
they
have
there
now
is
far
more
elegant,
in
its
own
way,
than
the
sprawling
mobile
status-symbol
parade
that
we
have
here.
Jonathan
Wolf
is
a
civil
litigator
and
author
of Your
Debt-Free
JD (affiliate
link).
He
has
taught
legal
writing,
written
for
a
wide
variety
of
publications,
and
made
it
both
his
business
and
his
pleasure
to
be
financially
and
scientifically
literate.
Any
views
he
expresses
are
probably
pure
gold,
but
are
nonetheless
solely
his
own
and
should
not
be
attributed
to
any
organization
with
which
he
is
affiliated.
He
wouldn’t
want
to
share
the
credit
anyway.
He
can
be
reached
at [email protected].