After sending out an announcement to all of the To Asia With Love contributors about the guidebook series’ new Facebook and Twitter pages, I received dozens of responses, reminding me of my favorite thing about these books: they are a collaboration between people who love the countries they write about. One of the many replies came from Ed Daniels of the Veterans Viet Nam Restoration Project, who wrote an essay about his favorite moto driver for To Vietnam With Love.

Moto drivers are a staple in Vietnam. Rather than hailing a taxi, a person can hop on the back of a motorbike and get from point A to point B for usually less than a dollar. In general, moto drivers are men. Not so in the case of Ed’s driver, Nhan. In general, also, being a moto driver is not an easy way to make a living. But Ed’s essay has helped Nhan with her business. As he emailed to me:

“I’ve seen [Nhan] several times since and she still carries a copy of the book. She reports receiving calls from people who have read it and want her services. A big Thank You goes out to you on her behalf.”

The To Asia With Love guidebooks do more than offer travel advice. They connect travelers with locals and also do their best to make a locals’ experience as positive as the experiences of those who are visiting the country.

Although it’s long, I’m pasting the entire essay here, so that you can see the type of stories the books contain:

ED DANIELS HIRES AN UNCONVENTIONAL XE OM DRIVER IN HO CHI MINH CITY

Nhan approached me as I exited the War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh City. She drove her old motorbike up on the sidewalk and asked if I needed a ride. It is not uncommon to hear this question in the city, but it is rare hearing it from a woman. She was about thirty-five, short, with a slight build, and didn’t look like she could handle a seventy-seven-kilo man on the back of a motorbike.

Motorbike drivers are easy enough to find in Vietnam, just look on any street corner, but no one seems interested in anything more than collecting a fee for a single ride somewhere. The thing that bothered me most about that kind of arrangement was the bartering before every ride and the arguing at the destination about the agreed-upon fee, or the added cost since the destination was “difficult to find” or “farther than expected.” Because I wanted to find one driver who would consistently take me where I wanted to go without having to go through the bartering/arguing process, I said no, that I was waiting for a driver who had dropped me off earlier and had agreed to come back. The woman drove away.

After about fifteen minutes, she showed back up. “Do you want a ride?” she asked again. I decided the other driver was never going to return, so I asked her if she could take me to the Ho Chi Minh Museum down by the river. She said, “Yeah, yeah,” and motioned for me to climb aboard. Little did I know that she didn’t have the slightest idea where I wanted to go.

She took me by a museum a few blocks away that I’d been to the previous day. As we passed it, she pointed to it and said something that sounded like “museum.” I said, “Yes, I went there yesterday,” thinking we were just making conversation. Looking back, I realize the only thing she probably understood was the “yes,” because she began to circle the block searching for the entrance. On two sides of the museum were one-way streets, with the traffic going in the opposite direction we were driving. That didn’t seem to bother her, as she simply drove up on the sidewalk to avoid the oncoming traffic.

After finding the museum entrance, I realized we weren’t making idle chat, but she thought this was where I’d asked her to take me. I decided it was time to pull out the map. Fortunately, the guard at the museum gate spoke a little English and figured out my goal. He gave Nhan directions in Vietnamese, and she smiled and motioned for me to climb back on. I complied, even though I was still not confident that we were going to wind up in the right spot.

We arrived at the museum gate just as it was being closed for the staff’s midday nap, so I asked my driver to take me back to my hotel. Knowing the way, I simply had to point in the direction I wanted her to go. As I was paying her for that day, she asked if I needed any more rides in the future. I was planning to leave the next morning for a three-day trip to Vung Tau, so there was no immediate need for Ho Chi Minh City transportation. But I asked if she could meet me at my hotel when I returned. This took a while because of the language barrier, but we managed to reach an agreement on the day and time.

Three days later I walked out of the hotel and saw her waving at me from the other side of the street, since only authorized taxi drivers were allowed to drive to the front of the hotel. I crossed over to meet her and told her I wanted to see a park that contained several large sculptures, which I had passed several days earlier. The problem was that I couldn’t remember how to find it. I pointed to one of the parks on the map and she said, “Yeah, yeah.” We drove about two blocks before she pulled over and asked a Vietnamese man to direct her. The rest of the morning went like that as we drove around looking for the sculpture park. We never found it, but we did see a lot of places with sculptures, such as graveyards, Buddhist temples, and shops where you could purchase busts of Ho Chi Minh. Fortunately, the park was not high on my list of priorities, and I enjoyed our drive around the city.

As the days passed, Nhan continued to drive me around. Her old motorbike was in pretty bad shape—the taillight didn’t work and the rear view mirror was hanging at an awkward angle—but she proved to be as reliable as a fine clock and honest to a tee. A year later, when I returned, she had a new motorbike because her old bike had been “corrupted,” but she was still the same good road companion. And by the time my third trip came up, I emailed Nhan with my itinerary and asked if she could also arrange a motorcycle driver for a friend. This time I felt comfortable enough to send her some money through Western Union to help pay the expenses. Everything was arranged when we arrived. She met us at the airport with a taxi and took us to the hotel. Not only did she and another driver friend of hers ferry us around Ho Chi Minh City, but they also took us down to My Tho in the Mekong Delta.

Over the course of three visits to Vietnam, I’ve come to know and trust Nhan, and I believe she trusts me as well. Aside from the time we’ve spent on her motorcycle, we’ve eaten lunch, drank beer, and visited with her friends and family together. While we maintain a business relationship, we consider ourselves friends. As a result, I’m certain I overpay her for the service she provides. However, it doesn’t bother me because I know she struggles financially, as do many people in Vietnam. Besides, there is great satisfaction and comfort in knowing she is concerned about my safety and welfare.

Getting around Vietnam on the back of a motorbike is not for everyone. However, I believe the risk is worth it because it is an experience that will not be easily forgotten. Not only is it exciting, but it is a good way to acquire a genuine feeling for the country.

FACT FILE:

Contacting Nhan
Tran Thi Nhan does not speak English. Still, you can contact her at her friend’s email address: toanbj@yahoo.com. In the subject line, write, “Message to Nhan.” The friend, Mr. Toan Du, will translate your email. If you are a Vietnamese speaker or have access to one, Nhan’s number is 090-251-1291 (in-country) or 84-90-251-1291 (from abroad). Keep in mind that although I have developed a working relationship with Nhan over the years, you will need to start at the beginning, so negotiate clearly for your rides, and build your own relationship from there.

Battle of the Sexes
At one point during one of my trips, a Vietnamese friend commented that it was very unusual to have a female driver. She said she had never seen a Vietnamese woman in this role. I had not seen other women drivers either, but I considered it a welcome departure from the norm. Nhan is also a nice choice for female travelers who would feel more comfortable with a woman driver.

Local etiquette
One day, while I was waiting to have some laundry done, I suggested that Nhan and I stop for some water. She pulled into the courtyard of a Buddhist temple where there was an outdoor café. She motioned me to a small table with small chairs. As I sat down, she disappeared and came back almost immediately with a bottle of cold water. Then she disappeared again just a quickly. This time she didn’t come back. After a while, I looked around and spotted her watching me from a distant chair. I waved to her, indicating I wanted her to sit at a chair by my table, but she shook her head no. After a couple more waves, and a couple more refusals, I figured it must be taboo, so I gave up and continued to drink my water. After a few minutes, an older Vietnamese man who spoke a little English came to the table and asked if he could sit down. I gladly accepted his request. As the older man and I began our conversation, Nhan also appeared at the table and sat down at the chair next to mine. I finally realized the old man’s appearance was a setup. The only way for her to sit there in a socially acceptable manner was to have the older man there as well.

(photo of traffic in Hanoi by Julie Fay Ashborn)

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