A Collision

First, let me tell you I’m fine.

Second, let me tell you I got hit by a motorbike in Hanoi this weekend.

I was crossing the street--the same street, as a matter of fact, in this video--and I was overall feeling rather capable and confident. Yes, I had looked both ways. I always look both ways, and have since I was 3 years old and my momma told me to. But in Vietnam, the things you have always believed--like looking left and right prevents collisions with moving vehicles--just don’t hold up.

Here’s the play by play: I step into the street and look left. I see motorbikes coming in my general direction, but we make eye contact so I assume they’ll avoid me and I start forward. I get halfway into the street, and I continue to look both left and right. No problem. Once I am about 3/4 of the way through the street, I focus my attention on three encroaching motorbikes on my right side and make eye contact with them to ensure they see me and slow down/ go around me. I am just about to the other side, still looking right, when WHAM I get hit from my left.

The driver had apparently made a very tight left turn, thus putting him on the wrong side of the road and running him right into me. Luckily he wasn’t going very fast, so rather than really slam into me he more just shoved me and carried me, still upright, a few steps. He then started yelling at me in Vietnamese; what he said I have no idea. I assume it was something along the lines of “You stupid tourist/American/woman.”

I really wasn’t hurt at all, but I will say the living shit was successfully scared out of me. Getting “shoved” by a motorbike is kind of like getting kicked in the face with a soccer ball. No matter how tough , no matter how dedicated to staying in the game, you’re gonna cry. And I did. Alone on the streets of Hanoi. With lots of male motorbike taxi drivers watching me and asking me if I wanted a ride. But I didn’t want a ride! I wanted to punch every man on a motorbike in the face! However, figuring I had already made a big enough scene--stopping traffic, sobbing recklessly in public-- I chose not to assault any nearby xe om drivers and instead made the decision to do the only thing you can really do to comfort yourself in a situation like that: go shopping. I thought I remembered there was a Calvin Klein somewhere nearby and headed in its general direction, figuring if new underwear couldn’t make me feel better nothing could.

I was still recovering and feeling sorry for myself when I walked past an old Vietnamese man on a bench by Hoan Kiem Lake. As I neared him I saw him readjust his position, lift his left butt cheek, and then just as I passed by he farted right at me. I think that was God’s way of telling me to stop taking myself so damn seriously.

I never found Calvin Klein, but I did find an English bookstore, a Clinique, the wine store, an Apple store, and a little old lady who sold Vietnamese paper dolls on the side of the steet.

I bought a lot of things. If Vietnam is serious about improving its economy, it really should start encouraging motorbikes to hit-without-maiming more Westerners.

The reason I was in Hanoi this weekend was simple: Meet up with some friends and eat a Cheeseburger at the one burger joint in Hanoi. Despite a brush with motorbike injury/death, success was had.


See below:The Heinz 57 Prep

The Inhale

The Friends