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Hand it to the Capitalists

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You...YOU...MAN...where you go? You want cyclo? No. Go away. You. YOU! Massage? Fucky? I take you? Where you go? Welcome to present day VietNam. Cyclo drivers know what men want, they just lack a little diplomacy. However, native VietNamese men generally don\'t have the money for the full service, so they have their own place to park.

VietNam is a former colony of France and two magnificent reminders, a Catholic Cathedral and the Post Office, stand out in the centre of Saigon. Behind the Cathedral is a park two blocks square garnished with old trees, grass, benches, and vendors who sell snacks and postcards to the tourists during the day. Next time you see that old footage on History Channel of North VietNamese tanks crashing through the gates of the palace, and soldiers erecting a flag to signify the fall of Saigon, look behind the smiling victors, and youll see trees and such. These days, after dark, lady palm-retailers scatter themselves about the park benches, a horny toad joins one, pulls down his pants, puts an arm around her to get real close, and she leans over. Any further movements come from the girl\'s arms. Facing the park with their backs to the street is their attempt at discretion. I sat waiting one night for a friend to never arrive and, upon my eyes from across the two-lane street, in less than an hour, a girl pulled four tricks. Pedestrians passed by, others slowed to a crawl for a quick peek-a-boo over a shoulder, then carried on leaving the pseudo-lovers to carry on. Her first three tricks didn\'t last long. No sooner were they done, the girl jumped to her feet and walked to another bench with her tote bag over her shoulder and tissue paper wiping and cleaning her hand...you do the math. The men bolted equally quickly, fastening their britches as they went. Rain exploded and while everyone sought shelter in restaurants and beneath the overhang of buildings, our little enterpriser whipped out her rain poncho and remained open for business. A young man bicycled up, spoke a few words, they assumed the position. The giggling audience loved it. Her little shoulders went up and down and up and down - he wouldn\'t pop. Twice, like a boxer sitting in her corner between rounds she stopped, then her bell would ring and she\'d be back into the business at hand. Finally he relented and they were none too happy to move on in their respective directions, soaked to the bone. The guard, who I\'d made friends with over the weeks, reported fees for services rendered in Hand Job Park at 5000 VietNamese dong ($1USD = 12,500VND).