Interviews with Asian Games' Wrestlers in Jakarta, Indonesia (2018)

Hiroe Minagawa

Mohammad Ali Geraei

Katsuki Sakagami

Hassan Yazdanichariati

Saigon, Vietnam: Unpretentious and Vibrant

Saigon doesn't judge you. Saints and sinners operate in harmony next to each other, five-star professional spas serving expensive tea next to "happy ending" parlors with pushup bras. Due to liberal zoning laws, Saigon (aka Ho Chi Minh) is vibrant, thriving, and free--the kind of city I imagined, wrongfully, that similarly-zoned Houston, Texas would be. 

On the bus from the airport to my hotel, I saw a beautiful Buddhist pagoda, 

Photo taken through bus window in the rain.

a high school named after French scientist Marie Curie, and a mosque next to 24/7 cafes and expensive car dealerships. The next day, while walking around, I saw a Hindu temple 

and a French-style Catholic church near the overrated Ben Thanh market. 

By way of comparison, I remember lots of fast-food outlets and big box retailers in Houston, TX and not much else. Yet, Houston is supposed to be capitalistic and laissez-faire, with Saigon playing the prodigal Communist. How did we get to the point where Republican-supported "free markets" created a forgettable city most notable for its hybrid highway/freeway system while Chinese-backed Communism led to small business nirvana? 

Vietnam is the 50th country I've visited. I looked forward to this trip because I enjoy Vietnamese food and am lucky enough to live 20 minutes away from "Little Saigon" aka "Little Vietnam" in San Jose, California. Consequently, nuoc mia (sugarcane juice), bun bo hue, 

Spicy beef soup

and pho are as familiar to me as Chipotle and In 'N Out. Even so, my "expertise" wasn't always useful. For example, the term "vermicelli" isn't used in Saigon. If you want to try the delicious combination of wet noodles, crunchy peanuts, BBQ chicken, sweet carrots, and herbs, you'll have to request Bun Ga Nuong, though apparently the Saigonese prefer this dish with pork aka Bun Nem Nuong, which, as Allah is my witness, I found out after I ate a bowl. 

It looked like chicken, I swear.

After learning Vietnamese for "no pork" (khong thit heo/lon), I'll be okay next time, but it's surprisingly difficult to find vegetarian sandwiches (banh mi chay or banh mi trung) anywhere. In general, Saigon's street food is geared towards college kids (they'll eat anything) and not as good as more formal but still casual restaurants. At 1.50 to 2.50 USD a sandwich or 4 USD for a bowl of noodles, the plastic chairs inside residential storefronts are more attractive than sitting on the street to save fifty cents--especially if it rains. (If you don't like broth/soup, try hu tieu khô or bun cha. As far as I can tell, the difference between the two is bun cha has no broth at all, whereas hu tieu khô gives you broth on the side.) 

Coffee, of course, is everywhere. Vietnam is second only to Brasil as the leading exporter of robusta beans, and you can't walk a few streets without seeing enterprising individuals with coffee carts. My favorite? Hot egg coffee, though it takes time to make properly and not commonly available. (Apparently, milk was rationed or unavailable during the war, so egg was used as a substitute.)

Just the right amount of thick froth.
Mix aggressively to get the proper balance of coffee and sweetness.

Saigon's 24/7 hour cafes and medley of individually-owned small businesses give it a vibrancy Western Europe wishes it had, plus additional bonuses: the preference of motorcycles over cars (which reduces traffic); the youth (adults fight wars so their children can live and forget); and the diversity everyone takes for granted. 

From Museum of Vietnamese History.

Above all, Saigon is a city that refuses to be pretentious, despite its many Mercedes-Benzes. For instance, Bui Vien Street, Saigon's backpacker area, makes Khao San Road in Bangkok feel like a convalescent home. 

My hotel happens to be on Bui Vien street, a result of my habit of never turning down a good deal. I'm now sleeping from 4AM to 11AM because my room is next to a club. (On the bright side, I'm steps away from two legit 6 USD/hour foot massage joints, which are less popular than the other kind.) 

What do I make of all this, while realizing I haven't seen the more Chinese-influenced, allegedly more sedate north? 

First, District 1's frenetic energy means it's not the kind of place new visitors will likely make long-term friends. Everyone is after something, and the smiles you see are most likely a byproduct of your presumed hefty wallet. You'll understand when you get requests for tips 100% of posted prices as if prices, even when posted clearly, are advertising gimmicks. When traveling, I usually try to date someone local, hoping against all odds for something meaningful, but in Saigon, I don't maintain any pretenses--my inability to speak Vietnamese means I'm only able to meet people interested in quid pro quo. 

Second, if you pay attention, you'll notice a fiercely independent streak all around you. Traffic lights, not just signals, are suggestions rather than mandates. Sidewalks are acceptable grounds for Vespas and other single-rider vehicles. When the Grab or FastGo app says to turn right, you can be sure your driver thinks he knows a better way. 

Even corporations are subject to the rule of local independence--my corporate-branded hotel's logo was placed above the building's original sign, a dual existence defeating the consistency sought by multinational businesses. (In case you're curious, the original name is the one used on Google Maps.) 

Third, if you're not too picky, Saigon is like seeing France at a discount. City Hall and the Opera House are French-themed, though adorned with gaudy modern designs that cannot compete with Paris's classy old baroque. For my purposes, I was happy to try frog's legs and escargot at prices I won't pay in Paris. I didn't love either dish, but at least now I know the best part of a snail isn't its larger central mass, which tastes like octopus, but its softer tail, and that frogs have too many bones relative to the meat offered.

Fourth, the War Remnants Museum, a multi-story building which chronicles the Vietnam War in English and Vietnamese, is a must-see. An entire section is dedicated to photojournalists, many of whom died attempting to save the United States from its jingoism. 

From War Remnants Museum.
Observe upper-left hand side of plaque.

Fifth and finally, the black market is strong in Saigon, and international mafias have carved up different areas for themselves. The Japanese, Chinese, and Koreans make lots of money peaceably, as long as you pay your bills. Your massage parlor may be staffed by a delicate-looking 5'1", 50 kg waif, but if any problems arise, she'll call out, and in less than one minute, a much larger, blonde-dyed fellow will appear. 

Indeed, the reason Saigon isn't filled with boring shopping malls pockmarking every other major SE Asian city's skylines is because real estate developers and other rentiers can make stable incomes from tenants of uncertain provenance. Such businessmen have created diverse revenue sources, often 24 hours a day, directly improving the livelihoods of legitimate outfits, especially restaurants and local markets. By way of example, one of the local McDonald's is open 24 hours a day, a feat difficult to accomplish without black market magic, even accounting for worldwide brand recognition and hordes of MBAs. 

The brightly-lit top panel says 24 hours.

As someone who doesn't smoke or drink alcohol, I'm always surprised non-partakers don't want to legalize and tax so-called "sin" products. Governments need revenue to try to match the much faster-paced private sector and though governments almost never succeed in stamping out illicit activities, absent a counterbalancing force, the average citizen is wholly dependent on mafias agreeing to regulate themselves. 

Personally, I'd prefer the revenue for regulation come from products I don't use, which makes me question devout opposition against legalization. Do religiously-inclined people like paying higher taxes? Are they overly optimistic about their local beat cop's desire or ability to eliminate the supply and/or demand for illicit products, which has led to a tacit acceptance of zones where drugs continue to be sold, thereby promoting ghettos? Do they want a police state where armed cops on every corner engage in 24/7 surveillance to ensure proper compliance? Maybe they like the idea of foreigners with more lax attitudes towards acceptable businesses making money that could otherwise go to local citizens? Or perhaps they believe making something illegal automatically removes it from their neighborhoods? Pray tell, what argument against legalization succeeds in light of available evidence, which shows the perennial cat-and-mouse game between police and mafia has failed to accomplish something other than more propaganda, more fear, and more revenue diverted to authoritarianism? 

It's become cliché to discuss Anthony Bourdain's love for Vietnam when discussing SE Asian travel, but I'll do it anyway: 

Going to Vietnam the first time was life-changing for sure; maybe because it was all so new and different to my life before and the world I grew up in. The food, culture, landscape and smell; they’re all inseparable. It just seemed like another planet; a delicious one that sort of sucked me in and never let go. (2014) 

I'm here to tell you it's all true. Bourdain, who died in France, loved Vietnam because the country was him personified: equal parts angel and devil, sinner and saint, unpretentious and one-of-a-kind. Come hungry. 

© Matthew Rafat (2018)

Update: I realized why so many Vietnamese people have residential storefronts, i.e., businesses, often food-related, on the ground floor of their two or three story houses. Vietnam's banking sector is state-owned and credit scores don't exist, meaning people with access to loans are employees with steady paychecks, often government workers. People who aren't government workers and who inherited a home are likely to operate in the informal economy. 

Bonus I: someone mentioned today that motorcycles are more popular than cars because parking spaces and lots in Saigon are almost non-existent. 

Bonus II: much of the Communist appeal--and its attempt to differentiate itself from the superficiality of Western values--revolved around women's equality. It was not uncommon to see women represent family, beauty, and defense, all in one striking image. 

A Muslim in Japan: Interview with Engineer Noman Md Ariful Haque

Born in Bangladesh, Noman studied computer science in the University of Dhaka. He knows C++ and now programs in Android Java. He has lived in Japan for 10 years and currently works in product management for a well-known Japanese company. I met him while we were both in transit in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. 

Q: What’s been your experience being a Bangladeshi Muslim engineer in Tokyo?

NH: Most people [immigrants like me] come to Japan for higher education or to find work. People with science backgrounds don’t have as many job opportunities in their own countries, and Japan offers opportunities.

Q: You are a pious Muslim and visibly so. Have you ever experienced discrimination in Japan?

NH: Many Japanese don’t like people outside of Japan, and it is still a very closed society. Nevertheless, there are over 300 mushollas [informal prayer places] in Japan. I speak Japanese, but it’s difficult because the Japanese [people] are not direct in their communications. They don’t like making direct demands, and their communication style is indirect. At the same time, no one bothers anyone else because of religious or other differences. I have heard in the USA, some people might bother you because of the way you look, but in Japan, no one bothers you. Personally, I’m an introvert, and Japan is a good fit for me.

I suppose the older Japanese generation is less friendly than the younger generation. When I've sat next to senior citizens on the train, they've assumed I don’t speak Japanese [and made derogatory comments], and sometimes they've gotten up and walked to a different seat.

Q: What do you like about Japan, as someone who’s lived there for 10 years?

NH: It’s very clean, and most of the people are very gentle. In general, the Japanese are very disciplined, very honest, and good at customer service. I also like Tokyo’s train system very much. And of course, no one bothers you if you’re different.

Q: What attracts you to Islam?

NH: I was born into a Muslim family, and my parents would talk to me about Islam. They would talk about the Creation. I was very impressed when I asked questions about the Creation from scholars at several mosques, and they provided me with the answers I was seeking. Let me try to explain. Think about the soul. The physical body passes away or atrophies. Islam helped me understand everything is there even after the physical body has departed, and even if we do not actively see it. That something is the soul, which enters into a different world.

So this world is very short, and there are really two worlds: one we live in now, and an afterlife. We humans can be remembered at most for three or four generations, so the purpose of life, if we are humble enough to admit it, is to act in a way that comes from true intentions. If we think of ourselves as having a purpose of worshipping Allah, it can give us a different perspective. For me, no other theory explained what happens when the physical departs. This world, the one we live in now, is a time for being tested. God has made different kinds of people, white, black, rich, poor. This is Allah’s way of giving us an exam and finding out which souls are more obedient to Him.

Interview with Sulistiansyah Rahmadi, Indonesian Traveler

Q: You've visited over 20 countries so far, mostly in SE Asia, right? 

SR: Yes. 

Q: What made you start traveling? 

SR: My first country was Singapore, and it's quite the opposite of Indonesia. They're organized, the language is different, and it blew my mind that we have things so different from my [Indonesian] culture. When I visited Australia, I thought it would be all-white, but it's multi-racial. Whenever I travel, it's the opposite of what I expect. For example, I felt accepted in Australia, in contrast to Georgia [the Caucasus], where I felt discriminated against as an Asian. 

Q: Which cities did you visit in Australia?

SR: Melbourne and Sydney, but I liked Melbourne the most. 

Q: Did you travel mostly alone or with groups?

SR: Alone. Previously, I traveled with groups, but not recently. I changed because when I go alone, I get more. More wisdom... I get a lot more. With a group, it's mostly fun things, and they are doing fun stuff, but after that... [shrugs his shoulders] 

Q: You traveled to Iran recently?

SR: April 2018 for two weeks. I visited Tehran, Kashan, Isfahan, Shiraz, Kerman, and Yaz. Usually, I make an organized itinerary with a budget, and in this case, I followed my schedule 70%. It was quite tight but I stuck to my schedule. Mostly I traveled over land--hitchhiking, by car, or by train, because I like seeing the scenery. 

Q: Iran has an image in the West of being a desert country. 

SR: [laughs] Iran in the north is mountains and snow, and four hours from Tehran is a place named Tochal, a ski resort. You can even see snowcapped mountains from Tehran. Kerman, in contrast, is desert, and they call it a "dead zone," because nothing can live there. 

I enjoyed Shiraz the most because I like history. You can call me a history geek. Shiraz has Persepolis, and Alexander the Great conquered the city. After Iran, I visited Istanbul, Izmir, Seljuk, Konya, Antalya, Ankara, Pamukkale, and Cappadocia, Turkey. 

Q: How long did you spend in Turkey? 

SR: I spent 12 days, mostly one or two nights in each city. If you want know about the people, it's not a good way to do it, but my goal was to visit the ruins. 

Q: When I visit ruins, whether it's Stonehenge or Rome, I'm usually disappointed, because either the ruins are literally rocks in the ground, or they've been renovated to the point of looking fake. Only Ephesus in Turkey has impressed me.

SR: For me, it's more than rocks. When I touch the same stone that people touched three thousand years ago, I'm following in the footsteps of the people back then. It's history in the earth, right in front of my face. 

Q: What top three places would you recommend for history buffs?

SR: 1) Egypt (Cairo, Alexandria, Thebes, Memphis, Luxor, Saqarra, Abu Simbel); 2) China (Xi'an and the Terracota Warriors in the Shaanxi province); and 3) Latin America (Aztecs in Mexico, Mayans in Peru, Incas in the Andes). 

So far, I've only managed to visit China. LatAm is much harder for me, because it's so far away, less traveled by Indonesians, and therefore very expensive. Egypt is far away, too, but we [Indonesians] go to Hajj, and Egypt is near Saudi Arabia, so it's more popular. 

Q: What made you interested in archaeology?

SR: My parents are both teachers, and through storytelling, they opened my mind about the history of different countries. I was exposed to history through storytelling in elementary school and since then, I've wanted to see things I did not know about. The future is fascinating, but the past is more fascinating. Did you know the name "China" is derived from  Emperor Qin [Shi Huang] three thousand ago? People today still use the name of this one emperor to recognize themselves, a man who died three thousand years ago! 

Q: How do you afford to travel so much? The Indonesian rupiah is not a strong currency. 

SR: I do not say it's easy. I'm just a medium-level freelancer [graphic designer]. I have advantages because my clients are foreigners, so I get paid in US dollars or Euros. I cannot afford to travel all year long, but I can afford to make two trips every year, as long as I travel cheaply. I hunt for cheap flights, and I sometimes buy tickets one year before. I stay mostly in dorms and hostels--it's like one room you share with six to eight people with a shared bathroom. You have to do your homework and make your itinerary as clear as possible to make it possible. 

Q: What are your favorite travel accessories?

SR: My holy grail is my backpack. It's a cheap backpack--it's actually used for cameras, but I put country flag patches on it and take it with me everywhere. I'll have to replace it soon. 

Q: I find the Indonesian people very friendly and open compared to other cultures. What do you think is the source of such friendliness, especially after Suharto's Communist purges?

SR: I think that's one of many reasons. Because of our history political corruption, we want to forget much of our past. And when you look to the future, you have to be open, especially if the goal is to make a new, better future in contrast to the violent one your parents knew. 

Also, we are not one entity. We are the opposite of homogenous. We are already used to differences. Here in my province (South Sumatra aka South Sumatera), we have about six or seven dialects. Different people, different tribes. so it's not new for us to embrace new movements or different people. 

Sulistiansyah Rahmadi lives in Palembang, Indonesia. His blog is https://sulisbae.com/ and he can be contacted through his Instagram account: https://www.instagram.com/baesulis/  

11 Minutes to Explain 50+ Years of History

I've traveled around the world 2.5 times and finally understand history in context. In a nutshell, the world has not yet recovered from post-WWII fallout and restructuring..."

More here: https://youtu.be/RGpiH9yJgX8 

From wrestlers' training room at Jakarta's Asian Games in 2018

A Grave Period

Straits Times, July 23, 2018

Having studied Western jurisprudence for almost two decades, I assumed an accordion and trombone analogy could explain the West's checks and balances. Recent events have proven me wrong. I am not referring to America's 2016 election. The rise of demagogues or "strongmen" is not new or limited to the West. Before Donald Trump and Viktor Orbán were Augusto Pinochet and the much more able Lee Kuan Yew: "I never killed them [my opponents]. I never destroyed them. Politically, they destroyed themselves." (New York Times, August 29, 2007) 

Back to the accordion--I'm thinking of the one with a small harmonica attached--and the trombone. The accordion represents--or represented--three branches of government: executive (the doers); legislative (the people's voice, as written); and judicial (the brake or time-out, when necessary). As one branch would attempt to extend its influence, the other two would react to keep the tune harmonious rather than shrill. The trombone represented honest journalism, a complementary bass to sustain and awaken the accordion player if s/he ever became tired. 

In reality, however, the "Court is a reactive institution. It's never in the forefront of social change." (Justice Ginsburg) So much for the judicial brake. Meanwhile, the journalistic trombone, by itself, can influence atrocious music if the audience is too busy, too tired, or too distracted to listen closely to any melody. (No one ever expected a musician to go rogue and supplant the conductor.) Moreover, if executive players insulate themselves from accountability through alliances with lawyers and the legislative branch (e.g., separate disciplinary standards and procedures for government workers), suddenly our accordion player has one very strong arm pushing against a weak one. In sum, Western democratic ideals are so optimistic, they presuppose a fragile, easily-manipulated system is capable of staying in tune even as vested interests stake out more and more territory over time. PM Lee Hsien Loong, in 2018, hinted at this assumption rather than requirement of self-correction: "Yours is a system which has elaborate checks and balances. It is meant to be able to correct itself and prevent policy from being taken to unwise extremes." Compared to the more robust and arguably less mellifluous Eastern model, the Western approach seems to get riskier over time. And what of the Singaporean model, a so-called "third way"? 

From Perry's Singapore (2017)

Singapore in particular recognized the value of consolidating "checks and balances" into a non-ideology ideology: "We knew what to avoid--racial conflict, linguistic strife, religious conflict." In Singapore's view, Indonesia's motto of "unity in diversity" required a stronger, more uniform, and more visible hand to maximize each group's potential--and, most importantly, to avoid racial riots. By restricting the aforementioned accordion's available playlist, Singapore eliminated the need for the trombone and, at the same time, removed the potential imbalance between the accordion player's mouth and two arms. Under the Eastern system, open conflict or unsteadiness would become unheard of. The accordion player would heed proper direction, and all would be well. Here in 2018, one may argue with Singapore's available playlist, but one cannot reasonably question its success, its continued racial and religious diversity, and the accomplishment of its stated goals.

Singapore proves the Eastern system, like the Western one, can work well if conditions are right. Additionally, the Eastern system's strong executive approach means it need replace only one leader rather than three or four potentially conflicting ones, providing the advantage of simplicity--no small matter when attempting national cohesiveness and the establishment of long-term goals. Yet, the simplicity of the Eastern system is also its undoing. A forceful conductor who limits the range of his musicians can succeed as long as s/he is alive, but left to their own devices, the musicians, so used to only one range of play and one style of direction, usually decline. Seen this way, both the Western and Eastern systems rely on leadership development and replacement. 

Unfortunately, the world has no oversupply of able conductors--quite the opposite. Having lived in Singapore in 2001, I felt a "comfortable disconnect" in 2018 that did not exist until after founder Lee Kuan Yew's death in 2015. Of course it is better to be rich than poor, but no handicap is possibly more severe than being born into a too-rich family, especially in the public eye. Idleness is not the issue but the probability that one's opinions are disconnected from the reality shared by most people. In one sense, Singaporeans today are all Lee Kuan Yew's children born into one of the richest families in the world, and as Singaporean-American author Kevin Kwan notes, "The problem is that they all have too much money, and it's come so easily to them that they think they're bloody geniuses and so they are always right." 

Devadas Krishnadas, in his interesting but unfortunately meandering book, hits the nail on the head when he examines reasons for Singapore's success: "[A]mongst the 5 W's--why, what, whom, when, and where--the 'Why?' was the singular most important query to satisfy. If that question had a good answer then the rest would be a matter of tactics." (Sensing Singapore, paperback, 2014, pp. 20) As long as Lee Kuan Yew was alive, the "Why" had an answer, but now, after his death, the Eastern model is flailing silently--but comfortably--in his long shadow. 

Indeed, the goals of most Singaporean residents are no longer national unity, diverse hawker centres open till midnight, or the creation of an ASEAN role model. Most non-senior Singaporeans want things, not ideas. They desire houses, cheaper health care, and more flexibility in CPF contributions and withdrawals. The most common mobile image on the MRT? A Lazada screen. The natural result of a society divorced from the shared ideals of a strong leader is perhaps a rise in different ideologies, but certainly, more things. Most conveniently, things do not ask, "Why?" 

The more one examines this new paradigm, the more one senses humanity entering a vast showroom filled with many wonderful things but lacking the ability to articulate a reason for any of them. In contrast, a vacuum and dishwasher saved every woman and bachelor in the 1900s time and energy. The sneakers worn today by your average non-athlete are far easier on your feet than the ones worn by Bob Cousy in his heyday. A car not only allowed easier transportation, it literally opened up vast stretches of land otherwise inaccessible. 

Lest you become too aggrieved, note that human nature hasn't changed much. Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote the following words in 1904, a time notable for its many new things, including the vacuum cleaner, air conditioning, electrocardiograms, and radar: 

Things are of the snake. 
The horseman serves the horse, 
The neatherd serves the neat, 
The merchant serves the purse, 
The eater serves his meat; 
’T is the day of the chattel, 
Web to weave, and corn to grind; 
Things are in the saddle, 
And ride mankind.

Surely the more things change, the more they stay the same, but do they still stay the same when the digital world overtakes the tangible one, and when things no longer provide as much utility as before? I don't know, but I'm sure of one thing: in such a world, we need effective rather than ineffective checks and balances, and we are in danger of having everything except the things that matter the most. Good luck, lah?