On Tuesday morning Hanoians woke up to dark skies and little idea of the chaos that awaited. Before 7am the rain started. Brendon left at 8am in pouring rain as he had to teach a class at 8.30am. I waited, hoping the rain would abate but left at 8.30am to make a 9.00am meeting. In a moment of unusual common sense I decided to wear a skirt and thongs, and change into my work gear at the office.
Halfway along the 3km motorbike trip to the office I hit flooded roads. They weren’t impassable though and I so I drove for about half a kilometre through water.
Once I turned onto the main road, Lieu Giai street, I realised I was in a bit of trouble. The water was past my knees and rising so I turned off the motorbike and wrestled it onto the submerged footpath. I found a café and thought I’d wait out the rain there.
The café owners (husband, wife, two adult kids) and I sat inside their little shop and watched the flood waters rise outside. Every time a four-wheel drive went past we’d rush to the door to hold it shut against the huge wave the cars created. The motorbikes outside slowly submerged until we eventually brought them all inside to prevent them washing away.
This is what would happen every time a four-wheel drive would come tearing past the café
The aftermath of a four-wheel drive-by
After the water rose past our ankles inside the shop (which was the ground floor of their home) we gave up trying to mop it up and just waited. The family gave me hot coffee and we amused ourselves watching the rain and the passing parade of people trying to get through the streets.
These plastic pipes came floating by and made us all laugh... pretty bored by that stage
What made this guy decide to transport his altar on this morning?
Appropriate fashion for a flood
About 11am the rain stopped and I left the café. Pushing my bike, I waded down the street until I ran into Matt, a fellow volunteer mate, who informed me I was definitely heading the wrong way. So back I went through knee-high water, past flooded cars, until I reached dry land.
The middle of a large intersection had become a big car park and everywhere entrepreneurial sorts were out with their tools, attempting to get bikes started again for 20,000 dong (a bit more than $1).
This major intersection became a car park for people to inspect the damage to themselves and bikes and try to get started again
Unfortunately mine was a difficult case and so I was pointed further up the road to a garage. The team of mechanics there were cheerfully working their asses off to get dozens of bikes moving again. It took my mechanic about 45 minutes to get the bike started again, but when he finally did and I was so happy I tipped him generously (big surprise to him).
At this stage I was still thinking I’d make it to work (it was past lunch by now), but 50 metres down the road I encountered deep water again and, as my bike still wasn’t running well I admitted defeat and turned for home. 50 metres in the other direction the bike died again and I was faced with walking home through more flooded streets. After another stop at a roadside tea seller-cum-mechanic, I finally got the bike going and reached home about 2pm – more than 5 hours after setting off on the 3kms ride to work.
