Transfer in Hong Kong. I walk towards T2 and take the train to the Asia Expo from where I can walk to The Marriott Hotel. It is ten in the evening and the Expo should be quiet, but there is excitement in the air. A group of 14 or 15 years girls pass me running. It is Justin night here in Hong Kong. Bieber is playing, or rather singing, in the main auditorium. I pass in front of the doors and can hear the teenagers’ cheers inside the hall. I see young mothers mothers who look even younger tonight walking in with they daughters. I see fathers with bored expressions sitting alone at the bars tables and sipping beer while waiting their kids to come out from the concert. Bieber was in Manila the other night, will I meet him in Phnom Penh where I am directed? I doubt it.
I check in at the hotel. An Indian mother with her daughter is asking for a room. The girl the reception says that the hotel is full. No more rooms, sorry. Another girls has Justin written with a marker all over her legs. She is almost asleep in in an armchair in the lobby. The tour continues.
Italian sunset and Proust
Saturday evening. The sun is slowly setting on the fields at the outskirts of my hometown. There is a warm yellow light at the horizon. The same colour and light in spring as well as autumn as if the season would be unsure as to which direction to take.
I stay at a friend place just outside the old centre. It is quiet here and I can hear men talking outside the bar down the corner. I imagine them standing just outside the door of of the bar. A glass of prosecco in their hand. The clear colour of the white wine reflecting the sunset sunlight. They talk of other people’s lives: a friend is no longer live with his wife, another is turning soon 50, they compare eachothers white hairs and laugh about it. I hear the cling of glasses of a toast: ‘to us’, they say.
Tonight I will do the same when I will be at dinner with some old friends. We will talk about men and women who are not in the room, will recall the
memories that hold our friendship together, We will compares lives and the choices we have made. The same ritual that takes place every time I come back where I was born and where most of my childhood friends live. Maybe is not a coincidence that I entered today the tiny bookshop next to Piazza del Duomo and Proust’s Recherche.
Location:Cremona, Italy
Lambeth South, Costa Café
it 7:20. The blue sky is covered by clouds tjis morning. The Costa Coffee has opened just 20 minutes ago. I am one of the first customers. Two men and a woman work here, dressed in modern-coffee-place-style uniforms. The two men speak a language I do not know. We are all foreigners in this place. The woman has black hairs with some red dye in it. I sit at the table I have been sitting for breakfast during the last few days. I am at the large window and can see the entrance of the tube station. A man enters the coffee opening the door with a deep sigh. He has a bag on his left shoulder. I saw him the first morning I was here. It was rainy. I wore a blue suit and was walking in front of the door while finishing a cigarette. He has now more classic clothes. A tweed jacket on a thick cotton shirt. He orders as last time a coffee to take away. Most of the people do so. Nobody seems to have time to sit down and sip their coffee. I look outside the window and see cars and bycicles rushing to work. Few joggers wearing headphones and a rucksack with their office clothes. Next weekend there is the London marathon and they are getting ready for it. People exit from the tube stations at regulat intervals. Some wear winter clothes, others spring clothes, apparently Undicided as to what the weather will bring today.
Arnaldo posted this using BlogPress from my iPhone
Location:Lambeth, London
Sunday run in London
To run or not to run. It is Sunday morning. Blue sky outside the windows of the hotel. Just before 8. Ok, run. I take the running shoes, running clothes, my heartbeat monitoring, the GPS watch which will draw a path on a Google Map later on.
The first few metres are chilly. The legs feel the cold. The lungs hurt a bit. It will get better in few minutes. I reach the Tower Bridge, run down the stairs and I am on the walk along the river. I decide to go east, towards Southbank.
It all look empty. I see two Asian tourists, maybe Japanese who walk dressed in winter clothes. They may be jet lagged as I am. I look at the watch to choose the pace. it is 6:15 min/km now. I slow down a bit while I get warmer. I pass next to the Town Hall building made of glass and looking as a reverse shell. Start to get into my thoughts and pick up random images. My rhythm is now nice and steady. Feel warmer and am happy I decided to take this run after a month or so. Bars and coffee shops are opening. Waiters prepare tables that will be later filled by tourists and Londoners enjoying the sun. Two guys talk loudly to to each other and over the music they listen in their headphones while the clean the floor in front of a cafe. I see a family of four near the Shakespeare theatre. Two kids between eight or ten walking in front of the parents. He is in his mid forties and helps his wife in her later thirties who cannot walk well. She seem to be recovering from a stroke at her young age. She wears jeans, comfortable jogging shoes. She has short blonde hairs with nice colourful hair clips and sun glasses. They enjoy the sun and the nice morning battling the change in their life.
I see other runners. Some alone. A couple racing for a sprint with red cheeks and happiness for the effort. A man with a dog. A German couple passes on my right hand side on their runner blades. She seem to be learning, while he moves effortlessly. He goes a bit head and then waits for her. Then again ahead and then waits for her once more. We are the Tate Modern. I pass another couple walking at a fats pace, kind of power walking. He is tall, short brown hairs and beard. Glasses. She is the one doing the talking and she talks as fats as she walks.They seem Swedish. He replies at short interval saying ‘jo’. While I pass next to them I hear him saying ‘jo’ at least six times.
I am on my way back to the bridge. I pass Tracey Thorn who is running toward the London Eye. She looks down on the pavement. I am thinking about listening to her music in Dumaguete, 9600 km from here. Then getting up this morning to go for a run. She, doing the same thing. And now being on this walk path along the river Thames at the same time.
RAPID 7:35am
Tripoli e Manila non sono cosi’ lontane
Fa uno strano effetto leggere delle vicende in Libia e di quanto queste tocchino le Filippine, nonostante i 10.754 Km che separano Manila da Tripoli.
Il Dipartimento per gli Affari esteri ha diramato un comunicato nel quale dichiara di avere evacuato fino ad ora 1.327 lavoratori filippini. Il numero dei filippini residenti in Libia pare sia di 30.000. A Tripoli la comunita’ filippina e’ numerosa ed esiste persino un scuola privata Filippina.
Il Segretario agli Affari Esteri (Albert F. Del Rosario), si e’ recato a Tripoli e dall’Ambasciata filippina ha personalemnte gestito l’organizzazione di un convoglio di 55 autobus che hanno raccolto i cittadini filippini che si erano rifugiati nella scuola privata e nell’Ambasciata per portarli a Djerba, in Tunisia.
Si calcola che nel mondo ci siano 8 – 11 milioni di filippini residenti/emigrati all’estero, l’11% della popolazione del paese. In Siria sono 19.000, in Giordania sono 25.000, in Bahrain 46.000, in Qatar 230.000, fino a piu’ di 1 millione in Arabia Saudita.
Il Governo segue qunidi con grande attenzione lo sviluppo della situazione in Medio Oriente. Nel caso della Libia, la maggiore fonte di preoccupazione e’ che dei 30.000 filippini che si trovano o trovavano nel paese, solo 13.000 lavorano o lavoravano per multinazioni o societa’ che avevavno preparato dei piani di evacuazione. Il Dipartimento delgi AffariEsteri sta lavorando a stretto contatto con l’Ambasciata filippina a Tripoli per mettersi in contatto con tutte le societa’ e datori di lavoro affinche’ provvedano immediatamente alla evacuazione dei dipendneti filippini senza attendere speciali instruzioni dall’Ambasciata. Il Dipartimento afferma che tutti i datori di lavoro hanno l’obbligo di evacuare lavoratori stranieri nel caso di rivolte e emergenze.
Non so come questa convenzione possa venire eseguita in una situazione di crisi come quella esplosa in Libia, specialmente per i filippini che lavorano come personale domestico e quindi non dipendenti di multinazionali e societa’ internazionali.
Moving or not moving?
The usual question of a consultant weekend are: read or not read? finish the paper or not finish the paper? review the sent last week or not? write a blog or not write a blog? go for a walk in town or not? eat in a restaurant alone or not? These question accompany the hours of the weekend and more often than not I am surprised to see that all of a sudden outside the window is dark.
This is what happened yesterday where I also learned something new about Vietnam talking to Tuy while sipping Japanese green tea.
More and more people are thinking about moving out form Ha Noi and settle in some other parts of Vietnam. Roads are more and more congested. This will only get worse. Ha Noi is the city of lakes. Tens of them dot the map of the city and limit the roads’ expansion. The population of 6.5 million is growing rapidly. The cost of properties in the city has increased to European levels pushing young families to buy a flat at the outskirts of the city. This requires more time for commuting to the offices in the centre and in turn greater traffic congestion during peak hours.
Da Nang, in Central Vietnam in a favourite destination for the ones who decide to move. Less traffic, on the seaside, warmer weather, and improved facilities and services as demand for housing is increasing.
Tuy explained to me all this. She has also been thinking about moving there, though there were some impediments. Her kids are still at school and she did not know whether in Da Nang schools were as good as in Ha Noi. More importantly, she did not know yet whom of her kids would continue to live in Ha Noi. In a family with only girls, changing province and town would not be an issues, but if there are male kids the family can move only if they make sure that one of the boys will remain in town and keep the link with the ancestors. If all boys leave the house for work or studies, the parents have to stay so to respect this old tradition. So, Da Nang has to wait for Tuy.
I am thinking about our conversation while walking along the sellotape road and then the flower road in the old city centre. How long can these tradition last? How many of the people who work in these small shops and travel agencies manage to keep up the tradition? I do not know. Certainly for Tuy was very strange to hear that my home is now in the Philippines and that I do not own one in Italy.
Crisis and ideas
I started my round of interviews for the study I am conducting here in Ha Noi for the World Bank. I am working with two young researchers of an independent research institute which has been established just few years ago. It was nice to hear that Hoang on of the two colleagues, has studied for one year in Pavia which is les than hundred kilometres from my hometown. It is now possible to have English language taught courses in an Italian university, which is nice to know.
I interviewed the young director of another young independent research institute established just one year ago but well connected and pursuing interesting research with important donor organisations in various provinces of the country.
All these organisation were not there when i arrived in Ha Noi in early 2007. It is as if the financial crisis that started to hit Vietnam in the second part of 2008 has opened the door to demand for research from the government and international organisations at an unprecedented level. Traditional research institutes in Vietnam could and cannot cope with this demand and that has opened opportunities for research entrepreneurs.
While the financial crisis has created opportunities, the rapid growth and development achieved by Vietnam during the last 20 years has also provide greater opportunities for these young researchers to study overseas, gain Masters and PhDs, feel at ease when working with the English language. These skills and experiences, added to the knowledge of the policy making environment in the country, are contributing to the creating the foundations for a greater evidence-based development in Vietnam.
Street view barber shop
I am in Doi Can, the street that goes from Lieu Giai to the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum. If is later afternoon. People are rushing out from their offices to go home. The street gets busy. I am sitting on a typical narrow plastic chair. Knees above the waist line. Motorbikes parked one the sidewalk, pushing people to walk on the street. Shops accompany this busy and lively street up to the mausoleum. Lights are being switched.
I have to wait my turn here at the barber shop I used to come when I was living not far form here, in Lang Thuy Dien. I want to test the number of motorbikes. This is not yet full swing rush hour and the traffic is relatively fluid. In an hour or so, it will get completely stuck with the street unable to cope with the amount of motorbikes.
I start my stop watch. In one minute 56 motorbikes pass in front of me in the direction of the mausoleum. If I take this as an average number and double it for the two directions it makes 112 motorbikes that have passed in front of me in just one minutes, almost two every second.
It is my turn. I explain with gestures that I want my beard trimmed with the N.1 in shaving in the hair trimmer. I relax. The barber shop looks directly on the road. No glass door. It is 3 m* 3m and has just one red barber chair. No sink. The water is take from a microscopic bathroom under the stair that leads up to the mezzanine where the barber (whose name I do not know0 lives with his young wife). He wears a surgeon mask and works very fast but with precision. I look around and see various photos glued at the top of the large mirror. Their colours fading into the past. In one of them a young boy is sitting on this very chair having his hairs trimmed. A barber stands next to him and look at the camera, while holding scissors over the head of the boys as if he would have been take by surprise. This barber could have been that boy and this could have been his father barber shop. The shop and skills transferred to a new generation as time would be immutable while indeed it produces a lot of changes, like the motorbike stream that cna be observed form this street view barber shop.
Back in Ha Noi
Let’s see if I manage to keep a diary of my stay in Ha Noi this time. It is the very first time I am here and will not do work for the Vietnam Academy of Social Sciences. It seems to me a sign of the passing of time, as well as the new route that the taxi took frorm Noi Bai airport to the hotel where I stay, the Horison. It took a narrow road along the West Lake which looked like a shortcut but was very congested with motorbike traffic.
My luggage is still in Honk Kong and it was funny to fill three different forms at the Lost&Found desk and the be approached by a staff who took a thick pile of green 100.000 Dong notes from his the inner pocket of his jacket and told me in a almost conspirator whisper: ‘Vietnam Airlines give you 600.000Dong and very sorry for making you trouble.’
I asked him if the money was his or from the company and he assured me that was the company money.
I have now been in this hotel maybe 10 times. So I get always a nice welcome form the staff who recognizes me (and vice versa). I am at the 8th floor, have a nice view of the night over Ha Noi, listen music of Adrien Aubrun.
At dinner read of the measures take by the government for securing the safety of the boats in Halong Bay, read that inflation is at a worring 12.5%, devaluation has made life more expensive, a new and very criticised tourism slogan and log have been selected: Vietnam the Different Orient. Different how? From what? Orient or Asia?