Good evening, Vietnam
Trip Start
Jul 15, 2007
1
124
195
Trip End
Jul 16, 2008
Hanoi,
Vietnam
Friday, February 29, 2008
Tonight we arrived in Vietnam after a two-hour flight north and east from Siem Reap, Cambodia.
Welcome to Communism. Our first experience was being greeted by a man with a sign listing our five names. I thought it was the tour company rep, come to make all easy for us and whisk us through baggage control, passport and customs.
It took about twenty minutes for us to figure out that it was a guy from the state-owned Vietnam Airlines on which we'd flown in. In other words, he was from the government, and he was not there to help us. The airline computer was down in Siem Reap, and we'd finally gotten our boarding passes after waiting ninety minutes in the endless lines at the counters
Night market, butcher shop
. "Could I have your tickets, please?" asked the airline rep. I showed him my printout of the e-mail from our U. S. travel agent, indicating our confirmed status on the recent flight.
"No, your paper tickets, please." I explained we had none, only electronic tickets. I showed him our boarding passes. He studied them and went away.
A few minutes later, another man came over. "You are Hemphill family?" We nodded yes. "Your tickets, please." I explained again that we had none, that we'd been ticketed electronically. He asked for our boarding passes, and took them off to be copied. At this point, the lines at passport control had disappeared, and the arrivals hall was quiet.
Ten minutes later another man came over. Same demand, same explanation. This one told us, "After luggage, you come to Lost and Found." He repeated it several times, with emphasis.
So we went on to passport control
Night market, vegetables
. We showed him our printed copies of the pre-approved visas, with our names listed and our approval status confirmed in both English and Vietnamese. He shook his head, and pointed across the hall. "You need visa." We went across the hall, and found a visa office with a glass slotted window. Inside a half-dozen people pushed paper. Nobody looked up. Finally I got someone's attention, and a young woman came up. She refused to look at our printed visa approval, and pointed us to a glass window at the other end of the room. We trooped obediently down a small hallway, and stood at the window opposite. The same woman came up to us and looked at our papers, then shoved five forms through the slot. "You fill out." I tried to explain that we'd done this before, and that we had approved visas already. No joy. "You fill out," she repeated, and took our passports.
Amy and I dutifully pulled out pens, split the forms, and began writing in big block capitals, as indicated. Some information required was on the passports, which had been taken. We did our best. Once we were done, we waited to be noticed. Finally I started saying, "Excuse me, excuse me!" while waving the completed forms. The same girl glanced in my direction, looked away, then pointed back at the original window
Check the label
.The proper procedure having been clarified (one window to get noticed, a second window to get documents, the first window again to submit documents), back to the first window we went, all documents in hand. They took them, and gave us a pink slip with Alexander's name on it, and an indicated price of $125. "You pay."
"But our travel agent already paid this." Blank hostile stares. One man left the room, came outside and stood looking at us. He pointed at the pink slip. "You give to travel agent. He give money back." Fortunately Amy had some dollars left in her purse after seven months on the road, and we were able to pay the $125. The guy who'd left the room put the cash in his shirt pocket, buttoned it, and the hostile young woman stamped our pink slip. We were off.
At passport control, we were the only customers. I went to one of two remaining agents and gave him our stack of passports. He gave me back four, and pointed behind the line. I retreated and waited while he studied my passport. A man in military uniform came over and pointed at another agent. I shared another single passport with him. The soldier walked away
Night market, clothing
.Another flight came in, and people began to queue. A different soldier came over, took our second passport away from the second agent, and made me give all the passports back to the first guy. He stamped them all and we were through.
Our luggage was standing in a clump next to the silent baggage carousel. As instructed, we went to the Lost and Found counter, which was abundantly staffed. "I was told to stop here," I said. A silent nod. Conversation. One woman left. Rapid telephone speech in Vietnamese from the next room. Silence. After five minutes she emerged. "You can go now." Outside to meet our smiling, friendly and capable guide Lam, who took us to our very nice hotel.
Ah, socialism! Coming soon to a health-care system near you. Perhaps I should say: ah, bureaucracy! I've certainly experienced similar wasted time with non-government entities in regulated businesses, though not as many recently as thirty years ago.
