Curb Your Cynicism

I have to make a confession. I'm cynical. Too damn cynical. That's a relative statement of course, but it's my opinion of how I compare to the majority of other human beings I know, meaning almost everyone has some level of cynicism, you must to survive in this world, but I feel my level of cynicism exceeds some average level, however one would measure that, by a significant margin.

This is nothing new and not a personal revelation of any sort. I've always been a little more cynical than average, but I find as I've accumulated more negatively reinforcing experiences my cynicism has only grown.

I recently read a piece on the internet, I can't even remember the topic, that pointed out that cynicism is cheap and easy while optimism takes effort and is an overall positive to individuals and society at large. In general I have to agree with this, but I also believe you can have too much of anything. I told an acquaintance here in Saigon a couple of years ago when we were having a discussion on the topic and that who in my opinion was afflicted with a general sense of optimism that defied truth and reality to the point that he was a danger to himself and others that he could believe he was going to jump into the Saigon River and swim to Los Angeles and I didn't care how much he believed it or how optimistic about he was I would never believe it and would bet against him if possible and win the bet! So sure there are limits to anything, but I do agree that it's way too easy to become cynical in life and I imagine if there have ever been any studies on it that the results show that people generally do become more so as they age as few of us lead what could be called a charmed life.

But of course there's another side to the cynicism issue besides the life one has led and its accumulated experiences. That other aspect and the only we have any control over is that ultimately it's a choice. I know, it's a bit cliche, but it's cliche because it's true and always has and will be. I do believe there are those among us who are naturally optimistic and who don't dwell on negative experiences or the negative aspects of experiences and who see the silver lining and the bright side when others don't. I've never been a member of that segment of the human population and I'm susceptible to my natural impulses driving me into a cheerless dark psychological hole. Trust me, it's not a happy fun place to be.

There is plenty to get cynical about no matter where one lives and southeast Asia offers many ways and opportunities for foreigners to slide down the cynical slippery slope should one allow oneself to do so. From the trash on the ground and in the waterways and the pollution in the air to tourist scams and foreigner pricing to the low general level of education of the locals to the low general level of education and intelligence of the expats to the fact that so many here eagerly embrace the arrival of what a lot of us wanted to get away from by coming here, and the list goes on.

For many expats in Asia the fact that we can never really belong to the society in a legal sense often becomes a bigger issue. When most of us first arrive here we couldn't give a rat's ass about that and actually are quite happy about not being part of the society! But as time goes by and one realises that he may not receive the same treatment as locals should problems or disputes arise it can start to loom larger and sometimes is the reason expats give for leaving Asia.

By contrast, in the USA and most of the West as it's referred to here, even though it includes Australians, Kiwis, and Russians in the minds of locals, a foreigner can go through a process and eventually become a naturalised citizen of the country with full voting, legal, and property ownership rights. While voting rights don't mean much in Vietnam, having the right to own property and businesses does and eventually this can become more and more important. The Vietnamese government has however recently relaxed property ownership rules so that foreigners can hold long-term leases on apartments and condos that are a form of effective ownership, but so far few have done so. Countries such as Mexico offer similar arrangements to Americans for example.

The other side to that coin is that many southeast Asian countries allow foreigners to arrive on tourist or other visas and work or pay their way up to attaining indefinite temporary residency (ITR). It's usually after an expat has attained this ITR that he will start thinking about the next and final step and become frustrated that it probably isn't open to him at all or at least not with the same relative ease as the ITR was. Well, that's life. The key is to manage one's expectations and stay realistic. In southeast Asia one can relatively easily obtain ITR but almost never full citizenship while in the West ITR is not easily available but citizenship is an option. I don't know of anywhere where both are available and many countries offer neither!

What I've discovered about myself is that I'm subject to a cycle in which I allow my cynicism to build and build until it almost becomes a barrier to normal responses until something happens that almost instantly dissolves it and I go back to the beginning. Obviously it's a cycle I'd like to break.

About a month ago I was in the Phu My Hung (Phú Mỹ Hưng) area of Saigon's district 7, one of the few areas in Vietnam that approach the feel of a Western suburb and my reliable Honda Cub (2+ years of fun-filled Saigon driving now!) was parked in an uncovered area when the skies opened up with a deluge that had me thinking of a typhoon. It lasted for about an hour. I brushed the water off the Cub's seat and hopped on and gave it a kick. It has no electric starter. Or fuel gauge. Nor does the speedometer or odometer work. This all only adds to the aforementioned fun. It cranked right up and I shifted into gear and began moving. For about 5 feet. The engine sputtered out and by the sound it made and the manner of its sputtering I was afraid the cause was something deep in its dark oily bowels.

Many successive start attempts brought not even a flicker of life back to engine. As happens about 100% of the time in Vietnam when someone is having a problem starting a motorbike, any number of Vietnamese men start taking numbers and getting in line to show the world that they have what it takes to succeed where someone else is failing. When that someone else is a foreigner I'm sure it only sweetens the potential taste of success. I had 3 this time each performing his successive attempts with the same amount of success I was having. Invariably 1 of them had to open the fuel tank (remember, no gauge!) to check on the presence of gasoline. I never mind any of this as there's no harm in trying and if someone can start it, well hey, here's to you my friend. But today it was not to be. We at least pulled the spark plug wire off and determined there was no spark thereby pinning down the problem as an electrical one.

I arranged to leave the Cub at the parking lot and took a cab home leaving it for the next day to try again. I was sure the rain had something to do with it and thought that overnight the problem might literally dry up and go away.

I arrived back the following afternoon with my fingers crossed and approached the Cub with hope and trepidation. I had already thought about my options if it didn't start and wasn't looking forward to having to execute them. The problem with the Phu My Hung area is that it's an upscale residential area so repair shops are non-existent there. The nearest shop I knew of was at least 2 km away and I would have to push it there.

I kicked, I throttled, I even played with the choke but no there was change from the previous day. I dejectedly began pushing the Cub out of the parking lot and was informed by the attendant that there was a man who could help about 1 km away and it was in the direction I was going.

I was in a foul mood and was already grumbling about how much money I was going to be stuck for after pushing my motorbike to a repair shop. Being a foreigner and being fairly well-dressed was only going to make matters worse. It goes without saying but pushing a dead motorbike along the road is not at the top of anyone's list of enjoyable activities. You see it frequently in Saigon and I imagine it's often due to the lack of fuel in the tank and I hated that 99% of those who saw me were thinking I had let that happen.

After about 1 km I heard a shout from across the fairly busy road. I stopped and peered through the traffic and saw the man waving at me. I realised this was likely the gentleman the attendant had referred to and with resignation I pushed the bike across the road through the traffic. He asked about fuel and I informed him "không lửa (no fire)". That was enough for him to spring into action. I didn't ask anything about cost because I was defeated at this point. It was worth a large amount to me to not have to push the bike anymore.

He at least was competent, beginning at the spark plug and working his way back, testing for any spark as he went. After a few minutes he had determined that the problem was beyond his area of expertise and he would summon another man to continue with the repair. I shrugged and said ok. What else was I going to say? The communication was all in Vietnamese and my limited grasp of it was at least proving adequate enough.

Soon enough the expert arrived with his box of special tools and was busily at work. Within 20 minutes he had removed the engine cover on one side and exposed the end of the crank shaft and the 2 ignition coils that sit astride it that are the genesis of the spark that eventually flashes from the end of the spark plug that ignites the fuel mix that makes the engine go. Somehow he determined that one of the coils was old and had gotten wet and would need replacing. I mutely nodded my assent. All during this repair process I was keeping a mental tab on what the estimated cost would be and it was escalating rapidly.

The replacement ignition coil arrived and was installed and we all cheered when the engine growled to life again. The pieces laying on the ground were quickly assembled and the bike was ready to go. The cab driver who had sat down next to me during the repair joked that it was going to be free. Ha ha, I thought, I just love your sardonic sense of humor.

I had racked up a bill in my mind of at least 300,000 vnd and was ready to pay 500,000 ($24 US) without complaining too much. They had saved me from pushing the bike a much longer way and had had 2 people working on the bike for almost an hour and had left twice to retrieve 1 of the repairmen and the new part and I had no idea what the price of the part was.

As the electrical system man packed up his tools and walked over to his bike I enquired as to how much I owed. "150,000" was the reply as I stood there stunned and cowed. That's about $7.30 US! Perhaps the fact that I spoke a modicum of Vietnamese and had joked around with them a bit had had an effect. I almost voluntarily paid more but didn't. Yes, curb my cynicism indeed.

On a final note it occurred to me the other day that I haven't seen the scamming Filipinos ("Hi where are you from, where did you buy that/those ______, where is ______?") in the parks and elsewhere for quite some time, months even. For now they're gone but apparently they've simply moved over to Thailand and
elsewhere.

Curb your cynicism but don't abandon it outright!

On Sunday afternoons in a part of Saigon's district 2 locals enjoy flying kites of many sizes and shapes.This area will probably become more developed but for now it offers a nice place to find some open space away from the city's noisy center.

Hello, Mr. Octopus! This is the face of the large kite from the previous photo.

The Phu My Bridge offers a scenic backdrop.

Hanoi is not fonda Hanoi Jane Fonda. This is the bright cheery face of censorship! I was watching a show on the 60's and mention was made of Jane and her stance on the Vietnam War and that's all it took for the plug to be pulled. Hey Hanoi, she was AGAINST the US involvement in the war!