Being an illegal resident in Ha Noi

It is temporarily rather uncomfortable in Ha Noi. The rain flooded large parts of the city. The life brutally became a mess to the people. The transport system broke down. Vehicles were buried and houses flooded by the water. The food prices raised, especially for vegetables. VPV, located in the outskirts, was and still is in state of emergency. The volunteers have to stay in hotels. I had to suffer in darkness two days of power cut. I was lucky because the water disappeared after one day in my street. But the forecasts predict even more rain in the coming days.

It is cold or it’s just considered to be cold under those circumstances. My feet and hands are icy. It reminds me to last winter, spending whole day covered under a blanket. Let’s see if the shops next door sell jackets. I had to bear another shutdown a few days after the great flood. Power cuts are not unusual for Ha Noi. This happens quite often in my area. Though, I smelled something strange. I opened my window and saw smoke in the small lanes of my block. I went outside and took notice of frantic, hysterical voices. A crowd stood next to the power distribution box. The box was under fire. But the people didn’t do anything. They haven’t tried extinguishing nor calling the fire brigade for help. The fire set more and more power lines under flames and went off after two hours for lack of burning material. The supplier fixed the majority of the damaged cables the next day. But they omit fixing the small cables. Apparently, I am one of the people who is reliant on the small cables. I had to suffer seven days in the dark. A boring week without electricity and I couldn’t go anywhere because of rain.

Maybe I deserve that kind of discriminating treatment. I am a criminal, an illegal resident. Or better said my hosts are against the law. I drove back home with a Vietnamese friend one evening. Someone waited in front of my gate. I saw the uniform; it was our local police officer. He told me to move out immediately. The reason was explicit. They found out that our hosts aren’t in possession of permission for renting the house to foreigner. We begged for amnesty and comforted the policemen. Yet, we can stay as long as the papers are completed.

Hum, we asked our host about the permit from the local authority before our move in. They affirmed this question. As we no doubt have guessed they rent rooms in their own home to Vietnamese students. For that reason we considered their bureaucratic awareness as confirmed. To believe them was a foolish mistake. They don’t even have a property certification. Further, they are lazy and don’t lift a finger. In worst case we have to move out. No one will fine us. The host doesn’t understand that they have to pay the penalty.

We don’t speak Vietnamese. Accordingly my friends have to process everything. It isn’t easy. We knew from beginning the proper way. However, every official authority said something diverse. First we had to get the business registration permit. It took us four weeks. Now we have to proof that our house is save and good enough for foreigners to live in. Vietnamese authorities are concerned about foreigners. Standard must be much higher than for Vietnamese. The fire prevention regulation is only obligatory for foreigners. It says that there must be two fire extinguishers on the ground floor and one more on any other floor. I have never seen fire extinguisher in a Vietnamese household at all. Our house is narrow. The rooms are rather small and water is available on each story. It counts, on the other hand, a total of three floors. At this instant we must purchase five extinguishers! (One extinguisher is a duty in Germany)

I am pretty mad about our hosts. They treat us disrespectfully and we have to arrange, and pay, their affairs. By the way, luck is on Joscha’s side. He travelled with his mother and sister throughout Cambodia and Thailand in these tough times. We are calculating the costs at the moment. Maybe, unlikely, we move out of our house.

~ by buudien on November 13, 2008.