{"id":637,"date":"2024-11-16T01:52:48","date_gmt":"2024-11-16T07:52:48","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pages.stolaf.edu\/globalsemester2024\/?p=637"},"modified":"2024-11-16T01:52:48","modified_gmt":"2024-11-16T07:52:48","slug":"good-morning-vietnam","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/pages.stolaf.edu\/globalsemester2024\/2024\/11\/16\/good-morning-vietnam\/","title":{"rendered":"Good Morning Vietnam"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
By: Owen Chamberlin<\/h5>\n\n\n\n

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD MOOOORNIIIIIIIIIING VIETNAM!!! It\u2019s time to rock it from the Delta to the DMZ! This is your host, Owen Chamberlin, with Global Semester Radio Saigon, coming to you live from Vung Tau Beach with this week\u2019s update!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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In all seriousness, my name is Owen (if you\u2019d already forgotten, maybe write it down this time\u2026), and I am a junior at Olaf triple majoring in political science, economics and French. I want to deviate a little bit from the typical recap of our latest activities, although we will get to that in a bit (sneak peek\u2013it\u2019s a lot of sitting). I\u2019m going to take the opportunity to reflect a bit on the places we\u2019ve been so far, now that we have reached our third and final destination. I will admit, it is a bit of a digression, so if you just want to hear about what your Globie has been up to recently, feel free to skip ahead a bit. Ok, let me begin:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I have always loved big cities. On the surface, they are all very similar\u2013 always loud, often smelly, and frequently overwhelming. However, in my mind, every city has its own unique character, and part of the fun of exploring a new city is uncovering that which makes it unique. So far this semester, we have spent a lot of time in urban areas\u2013San Jos\u00e9 in Costa Rica, Johannesburg and Windhoek in Southern Africa, and now a tantalizing one-day glimpse of Ho Chi Minh city, the biggest yet. I have had the time of my life exploring and learning these cities, and I am going to unpack my observations here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

San Jos\u00e9<\/h4>\n\n\n\n

San Jos\u00e9, unlike any place I had ever been before, was an explosion of color. Even flying in, one could see the sea of red roofed houses spread across Costa Rica\u2019s Central Valley, a striking contrast to the gray and brown scar that was our layover in Dallas. Once we landed and could see things from street level, the multitude of colors only grew\u2013each house was unique both in construction and paint job, an inviting blend of soft yellows, bright reds, and deep blues, augmented by scores of colorful ads splashed across the sides of what seemed to be every available surface. Costa Rica\u2019s stunning natural beauty was never far from mind either, as one could almost always see the lush green mountains surrounding the city peeking out above the buildings. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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View from the National Museum of San Jos\u00e9<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

**<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Johannesburg<\/h4>\n\n\n\n

Johannesburg is a city of lines, both real and imagined, but each equally angular, harsh and divisive. In the neighborhood we stayed in, Melville, the divisions were tangible\u2013every house was protected by a high wall, often topped with spikes and barbed wire. One didn\u2019t need to see the people\u2013the white residents or the black people I encountered on the streets each morning combing through the garbage and recycling bins to look for salable or reusable items, yet who rarely failed to return my smile or greeting\u2013to recognize the inequalities, the distrust, and the fear that makes the people of Melville feel they need such walls. The invisible lines were just as easy to notice. I remember a street where, on one side stood block upon block of upper-middle class homes with neatly maintained yards, and on the other, row upon row of dilapidated tin shacks baking in the African sun. When we visited the Soweto townships, someone asked our guide, Molefi, why we were not looked on with hatred, given that the majority of our group is white, and the population of Joburg\u2019s townships has long been oppressed by white South Africans. He just smiled and said, \u201cthey know you are not directly part of the regime that oppressed them. White South Africans don\u2019t ever come to Soweto\u201d. That is not a direct quote, but the message was the same. The legacies of apartheid have left Johannesburg a grid of divisions.   <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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***<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Windhoek<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
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While the echoes of apartheid reverberated around Joburg, so the remnants of colonialism haunt the city of Windhoek in Namibia. Mere blocks away from the Parliament of Namibia, the Alte Feste, the German colonial headquarters, still looms over the downtown, housing an imposing statue of a mounted soldier that, until recently, pointed directly toward Berlin. Many of Windhoek\u2019s streets, buildings, and neighborhoods still hold their German names. One of the wealthiest white suburbs, isolated from the rest of the city by a series of large hills, is known as Kleinwindhoek, German for \u201cLittle Windhoek\u201d. <\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Alte Feste<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

In fact, many of the upper class, desirable areas to live in the city have German names, while neighborhoods that are more economically depressed are given names in indigenous languages\u2013like the informal settlement of Katutura, which literally means \u201cplace where no one wants to live\u201d in Herero. The place names of Windhoek signal the racial divides that colonialism forced upon the Namibian people.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

****<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ho Chi Minh City<\/h4>\n\n\n\n

Now, to preface this next observation, I will admit that we have been in Vietnam for a mere 48 hours. Yet I can already tell that Ho Chi Minh City, at least in terms of city-ness (call me an academic), puts all of our other destinations to shame. It is truly a sea of humanity. HCMC is home to 8 million people, with another 14 million in the metro area, and every one of those 22 million people owns a motor scooter and drives it through the streets with surprising audacity. In fact, for every one car on the streets of the city, there are 20 motorbikes. There truly are people everywhere, walking, sitting and eating street food barely a foot from the bikes zooming by, and performing in the streets. I\u2019ve already seen three fire-eating performances. HCMC is a dazzling display of light, color, noise, smells both good (yay street food) and bad (yay pollution from 22 million motorbikes). I am beyond excited to spend the next few weeks living and learning in such a vibrant place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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If you\u2019ve made it this far, congratulations, and thank you for bearing with me. I know this post has already stretched on quite a bit but I do want to take you all through our adventures over the last few days. Maria left off with our final full day in Namibia, so I\u2019ll start the next morning. We left our hotel around 10:30 for one last drive through the semi-arid desert that surrounds Windhoek, to Hosea Kutako International Airport, which lies about 40 minutes outside the city. We said final goodbyes to Pinias, our beloved Namibian guide and professor, and boarded our first of three flights, a short hop on SA Airlink from Windhoek to Cape Town, South Africa. We survived a fair amount of turbulence on takeoff and what Lauren described as \u201ceither a pilot in training or someone who just came over from the air force\u201d, and were even treated to sweeping views of Cape Town and Table Mountain, a unique flattop mesa that overlooks the city. Our layover in Cape Town was about three hours, and Grace got to briefly reunite with her boyfriend (who is a St. Olaf student from South Africa who was home for an interview) in the airport! <\/p>\n\n\n\n