I both love and resent to the wet season. I enjoy the cool change the afternoon rains bring after the oppressive humidity of the late morning and the way the water washes the city clean and dampens down the pollution. But with these good tidings come the daily flooding of several districts and being periodically soaked to the skin regardless of how many umbrellas and rain coats you carry around. Seriously, I partake in an involuntary, impromptu wet t-shirt competition every evening when I’m working home.
As I spent a great deal of my childhood on the East Coast of Australia, my version of wet weather gear was shorts, thongs (flip flops) and a t-shirt. The temperature was never that cold, you wore less clothing so you would dry out quicker. This antipodean thinking was easily transplanted in Sai Gon, where the temperature even warmer than Australia and the drying out happened quicker.
But the one thing I couldn’t reconcile was the layer of mud I was covered in all my waking hours. From my feet to above my knees I was speckled with globules of muck. I even knew what was causing most of the splashes – my thongs where flicking mud onto the backs of my legs. Sure, I tried wearing closed shoes but that resulted in waterlogged feet and shoes that wouldn’t dry out.
I couldn’t figure it out. I avoided puddles and tried to walk around the muddiest parts of the street but nothing worked. I started keeping the moist napkins from restaurants in my bag to clean myself off after I’d been out.
Even more vexing was the fact that so many Saigonese people were wearing the same style of footwear as me and managed to stay beautifully clean. I couldn’t figure it out until one day I was drinking coffee on the street and was watching the vendor shuffling around her part of the footpath. I’d noticed that many people seem to drag their feet a little when they pottered about and that’s when it hit me – everyone shuffles because if they don’t lift their heels too much, the back of their shoes don’t flick water back onto their legs. I shuffled home that day and arrived five times cleaner than usual. Such a clever and easy solution; why didn’t I look to local know-how before?
No progress yet on how to ride a motorcycle in the rain without it feeling like a 40km/h cold shower.