An alley is a hem in Sai Gon - (original posted May, 2014)

As a kid growing up in Flint, Michigan my grandparent’s lived  only about a few blocks away us. Though, even living as close as they did I often thought of my visits to their place as an adventure. You see, beyond their backyard they had an alley, mom said – “dangerous people lurk in alleys and strange things happen there so if I knew what was good for me, I was to stay clear”. So as any boy might, at the warnings of his mother, I became obsessed with the alley and the part of my grandparent’s back yard bordering it.

Now my grandpa, though unspoken on this, never the less seemed to understand and would often let me peek through the bushes separating his back yard from the alley, look away as I peered around the corner, or for a most excellent adventure, slide into the alley for a moment. As a quiet and very serious man my grandpas had little time for his own adventures but think he wanted more for me, as he would sit me on his lap and share and explain his latest National Geographic magazine. Though, I think it was those forbidden forays into the alley he allowed, that had the biggest influence in my adult adventures.



So now let’s take a gigantic leap from 1950’s flint to March 2011, in Saigon, Vietnam and it’s the alley thing all over again, no mom it’s now ok to go out in it and as a matter of fact I have to in order to get to my rented room. Though, still the danger, but not the unknown type as when I was a kid in Flint but now it’s the very real danger of motorbikes and bicycles wizing by trying to beat the light on the intersection it skirts around. My alley is as most; the center of life and living for the people around it and for me as well as my room entrance is off it and my balcony over looks it. It’s also a place where, along its edges and against its buildings, food is sold, motorbikes are repaired, garbage is sorted and folks just hang out. Vietnamese take all this for granted but I think these urban alleys are amazing in how are they bring everyone in and around the alley together.

Now, mind you, this alley is not a large area, otherwise it would be a street. We are talking about a place maybe 300 ft long by 12 - 15 ft wide, but within this relative small space there is a lot of stuff happening.

The food sellers – one end for the morning set, tables line the side with tarps strung over the top, open air kitchen, dishes done in tubs – the other end in the evening it’s the same thing. All this is put up and torn down when the serving is over and the area is cleaned so you would never know they had been there. Across from my room is the motorbike repair guy which my landlord says he has been at it in his little alley spot for 20 years – no shop but a box and a large metal bowl on the curb with all his tools and there again he sets up in the morning and in the evening picks up everything and stuffs his box and bowl in someone’s place, like under one of my landlords chairs down stairs and goes home. Down a ways, at about 6:00 PM, a big pile of stuff shows up along the far side of the alley and then a lady appears, sorts through it, guessing she is separating plastic from paper and then they are gone, both her and the pile.

A side from the businesses that set along the sides of the alley, do their thing, fold up shop and go home only to repeat it again tomorrow, there are people walking and chatting from 4:30 in the morning till around 9:00 at night, kids playing, mom’s walking their babies, retires sitting around little tables playing board games, motorbikes parked, some with people lounging a top chatting or texting into their cell phones and through the middle of all this is a steady stream of motorbikes bustling by in both directions.

It’s what in the states city planners might refer to as a mixed use area, the alley edges are like canyon walls as the homes and businesses fit tightly together forming a solid 3 or 4 stories high cliff face, each opening directly into the canyon like floor. For example we have an LP gas distribution center with motorbikes used for delivery, office machine business, lawyer, Vietnamese traditional medical clinic, cell phone store, several other food related shops, rooming houses like where I stay, private residences and a hand full of others that I have no idea what they do.

However, I’m comfortable in my canyon in urban Saigon, it’s noisy, especially when the motorbike guy is fixing a horn, a bit warn around the edges and I’ve had a couple real close encounters of the speeding motorbike kind. Funny, now that I think about it, I have the same kind of comfortable feeling here that I had hanging out with my Grandpa, in his garage, by his alley, in Flint a zillion years ago.

What goes around comes around, maybe it’s Karma.