Even though lanes are painted on the street, they are almost completely ignored and nobody has any problem with driving against the flow of traffic to go around a car that’s moving too slow or not moving at all. Traffic lights are rare and it seems like the only vehicles that stop at a red light are cars. Most of the scooters sail right through. Most of the major intersections have these huge roundabouts and let me tell you, that’s where things really get hairy. Do not try this at home. And I would not recommend driving here under any circumstances. It’s scary enough when you’re in a taxi and you trust the driver knows what he’s doing. The way it works is everybody is part of this dance, this chaotic flow. You are sure that guy coming straight toward you, or in the case of the roundabouts, that wall of scooters coming toward is going to hit you, but they don’t. They come straight at you from every direction and you keep moving forward right at somebody else, but they stop and wait or veer around and everybody just goes on their merry way. If an American were part of this melee, like me for instance, they’d be screaming at everybody, ‘Hey, what the hell are you doing, are you crazy?!’ But nobody’s screaming or yelling or even mad or frustrated. I guess the bottom line is, nobody’s scared. It seems like everybody is quite comfortable with the chaos. But apparently people do get hurt. There are something like 1000 traffic related deaths a month in Vietnam. It looks like people should be getting hit every five seconds, but I haven’t seen an accident yet.We arrived safely at a sidewalk restaurant where five or six plastic children’s play tables were pulled together along with 10 tiny plastic children’s chairs. We all sat down. I never saw anybody look at a menu, but the food just started coming. First we each got a little dish of nuoc mam and another of salt, pepper and chili with a lime that I saw other people squeezing into the mix, so I did the same. Beers were brought and the toasts started and continued about every minute and a half throughout the meal. ‘Yo!’ The first dish was steamed clams with lemongrass and ginger.
Everybody just dug right into the hot clams, pulling them right out of the bowl with their fingers. Delicious and so fresh! Next were eggs on little soft-boiled egg stands. I love eggs, but then Jackie’s brother-in-law, Qui, told me with that ever-present twinkle in his eye exactly what it was. "The baby’s still inside!” Yes, I’d heard of these and probably saw Anthony Bourdain eat them on one of his shows, but I couldn’t do it. Everybody else did, of course, and loved them. Next was some kind of baby conch. I did try those. Not bad, if a little chewy, but the claw-like foot thing was a little too sharp and pointy to eat. Then we each got soup. It was kind of a barley-clam-pepper gelatinous stew that was delicious. ‘Yo!’ Some sort of snail in a caramely kind of sweet sauce was next. I have actually never eaten snails before, but after passing on the baby chick, I decided I had to try everything else. And what’s a snail next to a baby chick in a shell? 
The snails were actually very tasty. There was a sort of hard plastic-like barrier you had to get past to get to the snail. I’m not sure what that was, but it didn’t seem to dissolve or chew, so I just spit that out. There were also mussels with crushed peanuts and scallions.
Quite nice. And again, everything so fresh! Next came the giant prawns! Wow! Huge! Practically a baby lobster. I guess they were grilled or maybe broiled since the shells were slightly blackened. They were too hot to eat, but I kept trying. I ripped the head off and peeled the shell, but kept having to put it down and wait for it to cool. Jackie’s dad just grabbed one and took a bite right out of the head. He ate every bit of that poor mini-lobster. It never had a chance!So while we’re sitting there eating this amazing meal, there’s a whole scene going on on the street: traffic flying by, horns honking, scooters buzzing. A woman walked up to the table and stood there across from me holding a durian, aka stinky fruit, in each hand. She just stood there staring at me, I guess because I was the only person at the table who made the mistake of making eye contact with her. She just stood there with those horrible prickly things, holding them out to me, waiting for me to say, ‘Sure, I’ll take both!’ or something. Unfortunately for both of us, I have not yet acquired the taste for that odd delicacy. Next was a woman with a folding tray of cigarettes. Qui examined her collection for quite a while, but I lost track of whether or not he ever bought any. Then there were young girls and old women who came around selling lottery tickets. There was a very dirty woman holding a baby who had no underwear or diaper on. I think she was just asking for change. There was a boy squatting on the sidewalk scrubbing something. I couldn’t see what it was that he was scrubbing because he was on the other side of the table and behind a bicycle. Finally he stood up and it looked like he was holding these white strings, kind of like he was doing a magic act. ‘These strings are the same length. Now this one’s longer. Where’d the knot go?’ I noticed there was a pair of running shoes next to him and finally, I realized he’d been scrubbing the laces. At first I thought they were his shoes and how odd it was that everybody else seems to be hustling one way or another, but here he is scrubbing his own shoelaces. Finally, I saw him after he had re-laced the shoes take them over to a big table of men who were sitting behind us. The one they belonged to seem to be dissatisfied with the job, pointing to spots on the rubber that I guess weren’t up to par. The trials of the modern shoeshine boy. But every time he passed our table, he gave me the sweetest smile.
At the table next to us was a little family: mom, dad and son. Dad was a big guy who seemed like a hard, tough businessman. Not necessarily a suit and tie type of businessman, but definitely a guy who takes care of business. Obviously ‘successful’ and ‘the boss.’ Mom had a lot of makeup on and a silly, but probably expensive Cleopatra-type haircut and I don’t think she said more than two words during the whole meal. Actually, nobody seemed to talk much, or smile. Quite a contrast from our boisterous animated table. Anyway, she seemed bored and distracted. Almost like a barely necessary appendage. It was all about Junior. He sat between them at the head of the table. He was such a chip off the old block, a perfect ‘mini-me’ of his father. He was maybe ten years old and was close to being as cocky and self-assured as his dad looked. He sat just like his father, like a bulldog, and disinterestedly tried the different things his dad kept giving him to eat. Until his father gave him a taste of the juice from the inside of the giant prawn head. He got this strange expression on his face, kind of pursed his lips and then turned his head and spit it out right onto the sidewalk. Then a couple of seconds later he turned his head and spit out some more.People kept showing up throughout the meal and our table kept expanding. Fortunately there was plenty of food for everybody. I think we ended up with about 15 people. When the check came, it went to Jackie’s brother-in-law who was sitting next to me and I snuck a peek. I was dying to know how much a feast like this had cost. 1,880,000 dong. Just one hundred dollars!
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