Tet, Yasi, and Mubarak

On the eve of Tet here in Vietnam, we discover that Vietnam internet cafes do not allow access to Facebook -- a reminder that we are visiting a Communist state, even as we are surrounded by commerce and people of all classes and incomes. Here, instead of Facebook, each neighborhood has a nightly market of fruit, vegetable, and clothing vendors, taking over the pavement of several intersecting alleys. People mingle, scooters scoot, and vendors sell -- every night in a shoulder-to-shoulder sea of humanity.

That said, the streets are quieting down, with the usual deafening roar of scooters and buses settling into a droning hum, as roughly 1/3 of the 9M residents of Ho Chi Minh City return to their families in the countryside to celebrate Tet. The centuries-old traditions of celebrating the lunar new year with family, of cleaning one's home and business, of giving gifts to wish others health and prosperity, of honoring deceased loved ones takes over everything, including the heretofore-unstoppable forces of daily commerce. We feel fortunate to be part of the process of winding-down, of leaving a year behind, and of watching a city and country catch its collective breath. Things seem quiet, politically, in Vietnam, unlike the weather in Australia and the streets of Egypt.

Our 3-star hotel -- excellent in all regards -- carries only CNBC, so news of the Category 5 cyclone approaching our sailboat moored in Cairns, Australia is available only through the lens of its impact on business. Jennifer and I are happy we are not personally facing the wrath of 180 mph winds and storm surges, but we feel a deep sense of helplessness as far as ile de Grace goes -- she's tied securely to a secure mooring, but as the residents of New Orleans know, nature cares little for man-made objects in a storm of that magnitude. We comfort ourselves with frequent checks on the Australian weather service website, and find small solace in the storm's apparent southward move, meaning that the brunt of the storm will pass to the south of Cairns. Since cyclones rotate in a clockwise fashion south of the equator, this means the northern edge of the westward-moving storm will experience lower winds than the southern edge. We pray that our mooring and our lines will hold -- and that other boats' moorings hold as well.

The business news is also monitoring the growing political crisis in Egypt, and we were discussing this in the context of the travels we've experienced to date. In both Fiji and Vietnam, we spent time in countries led by dictators, but in each, the economic conditions approached unbridled capitalism -- and in each, most people that we met felt that with hard work and ingenuity, their economic lot would improve. We did not see examples or data of extensive unemployment in either Fiji or Vietnam. While a good deal of US rhetoric about third-world countries' political situations revolves around democracy, our very limited experience suggests that most people in Fiji and Vietnam care little about the nature of their political leadership, and care much more deeply about their economic potential. This seems to be playing out in Egypt as well, as best as we can understand from this vantage point.

Having a degree of control over one's future -- control over the immediate needs of living, such as a job, the ability to travel home for family celebrations, is an essential attribute for tranquility it seems. Jennifer and I are intellectually resigned to nature's treatment of our little sailboat, but emotionally, our hearts long to be in Cairns, close to our boat and home of the last year. It's been a tough day, trying to enjoy the Tet celebrations here while our minds are distracted by approaching cyclone-force winds and waves. We're watching the TV coverage of the demonstrations in Egypt through the lens of our travel in Fiji and Vietnam -- where both World War II and the Vietnam War left lasting scars on the people and land -- and where we see people more worried about jobs and their families than the larger political forces. In the end, we wish for business as usual, as long as that business gives people hope and prosperity.

We wish the Vietnamese people a healthy and prosperous new year -- chuc mung nam moi! We wish the people of Egpyt a rapid resolution of their leadership and economic crisis ... and we wish the people -- and boats -- of Northern Queensland, Australia, a safe landfall of Cyclone Yasi.