Dear friends,
A local bún bò vendor was thrilled thinking of her losing five frequent diners by July 1.
“It translates to 25 bowls a week or 100 bowls a month. Can you believe that?” she moaned.
As a bowl of beef vermicelli noodles costs VND30,000 (US$1.5), she forecasted the revenue loss of $150 in the first month after the provincial merger.
Early June, Vietnam’s National Assembly (NA) passed the resolution to amalgamate provincial-level administrative units, reducing from 63 provinces and centrally-controlled cities into 34.
The change will be enacted on July 1 – roughly a fortnight after the approval.
Quảng Trị – my hometown – is set to combine with Quảng Bình – a neighboring locality – in a merger that allows it to keep the name but the provincial capital will have to move to the neighbor’s territory – more than 120 km away.
The vendor’s five frequent dinners are public servants and their children. In a small neighborhood of manual workers, they are the only force having a sustainable spending power to support her business.
They will soon have to leave.
However, whether their entire families will need to relocate or they will travel back and forth daily or only parents move and let kids stay at home with whomever will be their new caretakers is still in question.
Meanwhile, rental prices in the appointed capital have been skyrocketing since the announcement.
Three cousins of mine teamed up to seek a temporary home in the new city. They eyed a two-bedroom house 1 km away from the city center which was priced at $210 for a month.
“At the normal rate, it could have been $115 max. Now they can set the rent as high as they want,” one of the cousins said.
They have been trying to negotiate but the possibility of discounting is mere as people like them are flocking into the city with the same mission.
In our hometown, they secure a comfortable life – owning two-storey houses, driving cars and sending kids to nearby schools from which they can walk home alone safely.
The parents’ displacement can lead to disruption in the children’s support systems, not to mention their possible identity crisis and difficulties in adjusting to new environments.
During three weeks staying in my hometown, I heard countless conversations on the topic yet couldn’t find any reportage on official news outlets about diverse situations, including hardships, posing to everyday life of people who are and will be affected by the policy.
The closest thing I could reach was in the comment section of an article on VNExpress on Vietnam’s Railway’s plan to launch a new couple of trains running between Quảng Trị’s capital Đông Hà and Đồng Hới – soon to be the province’s administrative center – to serve public servants after the merger.
“Workers will need to wake up at 4am or even 3am if they live far away from the train station. They will be home at 9pm or 10pm. These people are only paid for 8 hours of working but traveling will take up to 3 to 4 hours. I wonder if they can ensure their productivity,” a reader going by Hung Do wrote.
“It’s already tiring thinking about the arrangement. I’m so sorry for those who are trapped between leaving and staying,” reader Lê Thị Nga commented.
Let us hold firm belief in 461 members, accounting for 96.44% of the NA, who drove the nearly absolute approval of the merger. They must bear a grand breadth of vision for the country’s future that is impossible to wait any longer and enough to ignore any minor inconveniences following.
The other day, I was waiting in line for a breakfast bánh mì when a lady in front of me shared her frustration with the seller.
“I can’t find any proper house to move my family in, either too shabby, too far or too expensive. Now I must wait until July 1. Once those cán bộ (public servants) move away, there will be many options available for the rest of us. Right?” she said.
Might the gentrification never happen to manual workers of the new administrative center.
Till next time,
T.
Quảng Trị Province’s Cửa Tùng beach on film. Taken 8 years ago.
This week’s top picks
Quân reo quê mẹ Quảng Trị anh hùng – the theme song of my hometown’s radio station for 36 years which begins with “our loving, kind, humble homeland”. It will no longer be used after the provincial merger.
On Jane Jacobs and her vision
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2016/09/26/jane-jacobs-street-smarts