Posts Tagged ‘harsh life’
As told by a redditor:
I feel ashamed to reply to this with a story that I didn’t witness, it happened to a guy I went to highschool with. It’s quite fucked up though, so in that respect, I’m glad I wasn’t there to give a first-hand account.
He and his wife moved to South Africa and one night 2 burglars broke in. They managed to corner the burglars with a shotgun (don’t ask me how/why they have a shotgun) and tied them up to chairs and called the police. While they were waiting for the police to arrive, the burglars kept saying how the police would arrest them, charge them with a misdemeanor (or whatever the South African equivalent is) and after they served their short time, they would come back and rape the girl/kill them both etc. After the police arrived, the guy spoke to them and told them how the burglars were threatening to come back. The police said, “Unfortunately that’s probably what they’ll do. Everyone would be better off if the burglars were killed in self defense with that shotgun… so… we’re going to leave the room… aim for the head.”
EDIT To all the latecomers to this thread, and those waiting for me to finish it: Sorry! They dude did, in fact, shoot the burglars.
A while ago I hung out by the sidewalk, sipping sugarcane juice on a steaming Saigon afternoon. Next to me was a man stripping canes.
On his right laid the new stack. On his left, a half finished stack. The way he did it was to pick up one cane, stripped half of it w/ one stroke and threw it on his left. His coworker, who sat facing him, picked it up and, with one stroke, finished the stripping job. Had he stripped it by himself, he would have to do one stroke, then move the sugarcane forward, then another stroke. By having a helper do the 2nd stroke, he skipped the “move it forward” step, a significant saving in the long run.
The ideal length, I think, is 2 strokes, which allows for easy transport and easy processing (when the cane is put through the juice extractor)
As told by one of the Misses at the restaurant from this post
The policy is no touching. We have waiters and security guards who protect us and will kick out those who misbehave. But we rarely resort to anything physical since it is bad for the business. After all, the Vietnamese expect it for 15usd/h. They expect a massage with happy ending for 15 dollars. Last week a big shot VP came and upon knowing our policy he went berserk. He ended up calling his own Misses but they were really ugly. Kaka.
All and all sex sells. I ll flirt and give out my number if they ask, which happens nearly every time. Then comes the usual “lets go out for coffee/lets have dinner/lets me take you shopping/why dont you come work for me?” spiel but I never go. Any time away from the restaurant is bad. We WANT him at the restaurant. If I go out, there is no reason for him to come and eat there anymore.
I can’t have a boyfriend doing what I do. A few weeks ago a guy spent almost 30 mil VND buying my coworker 2 phones. They went out a few times but I don’t know if he screwed her or not. She said no but it could have been a lie. After all she accepted the gifts. In this city, you just can’t accept those kinds of gifts and stay friend at the same time. But then she is pretty serious w/ her boyfriend, who keeps an eye on her at all time…
Her phone started ringing. She picked up and gently told some guy she couldnt meet him now. The clock struck midnite.
Behind every dish there is a story, as told by my cousin, a budding restaurateur in District 10
-The vegetable dish: The water spinach (rau muong) is soaked with water for a day and a night to give it the green color. For the glistening effect, it is further stir-fried with lots of oil. Oh yeah, since the vegetable is sold by the kilo, I would serve the dish with as much leaves as possible to maximize profit.
-The fish dish: Fish price varies a lot. For example, cá hú is harder to farm than cá lóc, so it costs more per kilo. To maximize profit, I would mix cá hú with cá lóc, or an inferior sub species of cá hú with a superior one.I do this a lot since it is almost impossible for anyone to tell. To get the smell and the fat off of the fish, and to give it a nice fresh look, I rub it with betel paste, which works almost instantaneously. However you need to soak the fish in water for a few hours afterwards to get the chemical out. Also you must be careful when you go shopping. I have seen fish sellers sprinkle pig blood on the fish or lay some kind of chemical on top so you d think they are fresh-kill but they are not. Only when you take the fish home and put it on the pan then the meat starts to rot and fall apart. It happened to me before, when I first started out. But now I know which seller is good and which isn’t… (to be continued)
Today as I waited for the electrician to replace the transformers,
I decided to do an experiment I had wanted to do for a long time. That is to measure how long it would take for my cardboard boxes to be collected by the gazillions of street scavengers here.
At 1:19pm I put them out.
For the next 4 minutes I waited in vain. At 1:24pm he came, an old man on a rickety bike wearing a fedora hat. Kindly he asked me if he could take the boxes.
At 1:25 the boxes were gone.
What can I say…Poverty sometimes is good.
Rmit pays around 45% more for a foreigner vs a local who studied abroad, regardless of qualification. On top of that they pay exactly the same for a Phd vs a Masters vs a B.S, with or without relevant job experience! Good luck trying to attracting talent!
Near my house (marked as A) there are several streets which act as borders:
-#1 separates 2 wards.
-#2 and #3 separate 2 districts.
These streets are used extensively by street vendors for 1 simple reason: to avoid the ward cops, who patrol their ward like a jealous boyfriend. If they see a vendor on the street or pavement, they will confiscate everything. Unless, of course, a sizable bribe is procured. So these vendors strategically conduct their biz right on the border and at the first sight of cops, scurry away to the other side (which legally belongs to another ward and hence out of the pursuing cops’ jurisdiction)
So once in a while I see these vendors pushing their carts, dragging their tarps, putting metal to the pedal, their faces bloodless with fear, it almost makes me cry and laugh at the same time. Freaking Saigon..where tragic comedies are played out everyday.