Day 2: How to cross a street in Saigon…without dying


Before arriving in Vietnam, I visited New York City the previous week. And I can say without question that even the bright lights and energy of New York can not compare to the vibrancy of Saigon. At night, Saigon is a hundred times brighter than Times Square.

The heart of Saigon at night beats with the sound of youth zooming all over the city on their Honda bikes. I’m pretty sure girls from Vietnam are just as pretty as Vietnamese girls in Canada. The only problem is you can’t tell because most of them are covered in a facemask and helmet.

Picture of two girls on motor bike that have their faces covered up in a facemask and helmet

On this night, my cousin Nghe and his wife Hieu are taking me to di bao (cheering in the streets). Vietnam just beat Malaysia 3-1 in a soccer tournament and Duong Nguyen Trai is jammed packed with thousands of youths driving around on their motorcycles cheering wildly. I figure this is the closest I’ll ever get to experience a championship parade in my lifetime, considering I live in the home of the Toronto Maple Leafs.

I clutch the back of cousin Nghe’s Honda as we weave in and out through traffic, past bikes on the street and by-passing pedestrians on the sidewalk – sometimes going head on into traffic, twisting and turning whenever we want, just like everyone else.

Driving in Vietnam is like playing a racing video game in real-life. In Saigon, there is no “stop” and “go” signals. Instead, drivers just “sort of stop” or “go for it”. There is also no “turn” signal. Instead, they use an “I’m turning now, deal with it” signal. And “Pedestrian right of way” here means “pedestrians have the right to get out of the way”.

Walking across the street in Saigon is easy – as long as you don’t mind watching your life flash before your eyes as hundreds of lights race towards you. The trick is to walk slowly and let the bikes adjust to you. Nghe and Hieu laugh hysterically at me as I try crossing the street the Canadian way: Running quickly across the street like a chicken with its head cut off.

On my next attempt to cross on my own, I stand in between two old ladies and use them as my guides. In Vietnam, I’m taught to respect the elderly. And in this case, I highly respect their ability to block traffic and help me cross the street.

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