Ho Chi Minh City: the Covid-19 diaries Part 2

 

Well... perhaps I / we spoke too soon! 

As detailed in my Covid-19 diaries Part 1 here (imperative to read first), Vietnam and especially, Ho Chi Minh City, the nation's Covid-19 poster child, had done a pretty remarkable job managing the coronavirus outbreak, in fact one of the world's most successful in terms of relatively low number of cases and deaths. After just over a year,  in late May 2021, the Covid-19 tally was roughly 42 deaths and 5141 cases out of a population of 90 million and  sheesh, even the economy is growing. 

Overall, compared to much of the rest of the planet during the global pandemic, I was lucky to lead a fairly normal life in Ho Chi Minh City for a year or so and apart from scant work, dwindling funds, borders closures and witnessing some favourite venues forced to close, nay, even quite the enjoyable time.  

How proud the Saigonese were of their 'normal service resumes' life, the crowds in the cafes, restaurants, pagodas, shopping malls, festivities, etc and vibrant street life. Look at us! Look at how well we handled Covid-19 (okay, with a few glitches and snap, non-essential shut downs, etc). 

But, oh dear..... I thought this was all too good to be true, especially for one of the most densely populated cities on earth and Vietnam's largest metropolis - and sadly, turns out I was right. Seems, just like all the other Covid-19 success stories... Australia, Taiwan, Singapore, Hong Kong, et al...., who'd been the envy of the  world with their lack of lockdowns and relative freedoms, Vietnam was caught off-guard by the new 'Delta Variant' strain, which made its unwelcome presence known around May 2021 -  just as Europe and the US were slowly emerging out of their lockdown nightmares and putting their population in mass vaccinations programmes.  

As a highly transmissible strain, the Delta Variant (BTW, nothing to do with the Mekong Delta region), was no longer able to be contained by Vietnam's previously stellar contract tracing, zapping down Covid-19 zones, venue restrictions, strict quarantines, etc, that got them through 2020.  Additionally, with hardly any of the Vietnamese population vaccinated (the  national vaccination  programme started around March 2021 was a half-hearted affair,  declining international vaccines in favour of planned domestic  production) and with more visitors allowed to enter still-closed borders, the Delta Variant unleashed an unexpected late-in-the-day period of drastic measures, lockdowns and hardship. 

And my beloved Ho Chi Minh City, acknowledged as Vietnam's greatest Covid-19 success story, almost overnight, slipped to the nation's worst culprit (although, again, let's keep this real, numbers were still relatively low - 35 deaths in the entire country in May 2021). As city authorities grew alarmed at the rise in Covid-19 related cases and deaths, a period of social distancing began on May 31, known as 'Directive 15,' for what was initially intended for a 15-day period. This was only the  second time Ho Chi Minh City had experienced this -  the last time being April 2020; a similar ban on social events, gatherings of 20 people or more in one place and of 10 people or more outside workplaces, schools and hospitals, minimum distance of 2m between people in public places, etc, etc, although IMO, this so-called 'Directive 15' seemed a tad stricter, as you will read. 

To get the message across, PSA's were commonplace, especially these  Covid-19 posters, springing-up in local neighbourhoods.....  

and reinforcing the lately-introduced  '5K' mantra from the Ministry of Health ("helping citizens get used to living safely with the COVID-19 pandemic in this ‘new normal’ state:")

Khau trang (wearing facemasks), (Khu khuan) disinfecting and hand washing / sanitizing  (Khoang cach) keeping a safe distance, (Khong tu tap) avoiding mass  gatherings and (Khai bao y te) health declarations.  

And to further publicly reinforce increasingly stricter regulations, the Covid-19 van, a now familiar sight and sound, regularly drove up and down the street, blaring out PSA's from attached loudspeakers, surreally accompanied by Latino-style background music. .....

Trouble is, these PSA's were all in Vietnamese, so any foreigners, such as this steadily unnerved Jaded Empress, didn't have a clue what messages they were barking out. The same for the Covid-19 text messages from the HCMC authorities  that popped-up on my mobile phone; even roughly translated, frustratingly vague (out of desperation, I ended-up asking anyone on the street who remotely spoke English (er, not many), about what was going on).    

"[TB] The COVID-19 epidemic is complicated and unpredictable. Each citizen needs to be on high alert; strictly comply with regulations on physical distancing; absolutely comply with and fully implement 5K measures, the guidelines of the Ministry of Health. Discipline and compliance are the most humane actions at the moment to protect themselves and protect their loved ones, communities and the country. Contact the Ministry of Health hotline 1900.9095 for advice and support as needed."

And then came the onslaught of red tape - as in 'police-do-not-cross' varieties, resembling an urban mass crime scene - which  mysteriously started appearing along the canal-side promenade in my local neighbourhood (as no doubt you've already read about here)... 



Vietnam always had been a bureaucratic nightmare, with all its ridiculous red tape,  but along this promenade, it literally became so.

Although exercise was initially allowed during the 'social distancing' weeks,  this red tape was meant to deter locals congregating en masse along the walkway. When it first appeared, locals simply ignored it and / or  defiantly tore it down, so that everyone, including me, could carry on with their daily walks, exercise, socialising and what-not. As public parks were eventually taped-off too and out of bounds by the end of May, a higher number of folk than usual  flocked to the canal to exercise  (including quite a few foreign expats I'd never seen before), so come the late afternoon, the promenade resembled one big busy fiesta. 

Municipal authorities soon got wind of this, however and heading into June, even more tape was strung angrily across the walkway, making it now almost impossible to pass along.... 

I later discovered why no one would dare rip this tape down anymore: by late June there were  massive fines in place for anyone found along here, or in the public parks  (unlike the last lockdown, exercise was now deemed an illegal activity quite extraordinary in a nation where early morning / late afternoon exercise is ingrained in the culture).    

Why suddenly overnight, at the end of June - the last day I got away with ducking under the red tape during my daily exercise - these once crowded, joyous canal-side walkways were empty for weeks on end, with locals not allowed to walk their dogs, let their children play, fish, jog, or meet to gossip....., an entire community shut down.  And the canal-side cafes, street food stalls, bars and eateries - like elsewhere in the city - had been ordered shut by the end of May, with only deliveries and takeaways allowed. 

The symbolic red tape started multiplying elsewhere. It was evident I was now residing  amid Covid-19 hotspots, with a growing number of local residents testing positive for the highly transmissible Delta Variant: a tell-tale amount of slender alleys (hems) and residences were taped-off and barricaded with makeshift tables, chairs, wheelie bins and metal grids,  topped with "Keep out, Covid-19!" (or words to that effect) signage.   







Invariably, you'd see one or two municipal workers keeping guard outside, so that none of the Covid-19 stricken residents  'escaped'.......









These Covid-19 residences were shut down for a couple of weeks or so, with (apparently) little notice: any food deliveries, mostly courtesy of motorbike drivers and local authority hand-outs, would be deposited at the barricades for one of the imprisoned residents to collect... their only source of food (and contact with the outside world!)  An oversized bottle of industrial-strength hand sanitizer was also supplied.  

And as a Covid-19 epicentre, a road block manned by the men in green (AKA the police) and local municipal workers appeared on my street: halting anyone driving in and out, checking what they were doing, where they were going and if they were carrying the correct paperwork - as later, it became increasingly difficult to move from one district to another and then even between the wards (numbered sub-sections of districts).  




This was especially the case when a stricter lockdown and social distancing orders under  'Directive 16'  came  into force on July 9, again, in what was originally intended as a 15-day period. Regulations covered stay at home orders and only venturing out for essential needs such as food shopping, medicine and urgent medical services or other emergencies and working in production facilities and businesses that involve trade in essential goods and services. There was a  ban on gatherings of more than two people at public places and travelling to other localities and suspension of public transport, like taxis. Face masks again were mandatory with fines imposed. Yikes! If you dared to venture out, there was nothing much out there anyway, with pagodas, markets, malls, cafes, nightspots and parks, all closed down. 
 
Things got noticeably more tense, with an increased police presence on the streets, far less people out and most buildings shuttered down. Still, as Ho Chi Minh City was now suffering the worst  Covid-19 community outbreak ever, acknowledged as Vietnam’s Covid-19 epicentre in this ongoing 'fourth wave' (home to near-on 79,000 cases of the 119,812 national total), from July 26, authorities imposed an unprecedented 6pm to 6am curfew "until further notice."  As if things weren't bleak enough, all residents had to remain indoors except for medical emergencies, while shops and businesses still allowed to operate had to remain closed. 

"People absolutely cannot go out from 6pm," declared the city's chairman, Nguyen Thanh Phong. "All activities will have to be suspended, except for emergency medical care or  pandemic fight operations.

These were surreal times; where once I needed ear plugs, what with all the racket outside in neighbourhood, now by 9pm, you could almost hear a pin drop - except for the police and (very) essential workers whizzing past on their motorbikes and the cacophony of cicadas.

Of course, since the end of May, under Directive 15,  all the city's wondrous cafes and restaurants had been closed down, and along with the curfew, putting a stop to any dining out. Pretty ironic, given Ho Chi Minh City is celebrated for its fantastic cuisine and street food (one of my main reasons to live here), along with the Saigonese habit of eating out most nights. Even takeout and delivery service, which the city population, especially expats,  had got so reliant on, wasn't allowed anymore either - nor the once omnipresent mobile food stalls, no more 'BAP XAO!' cries blasting out at two in the morning! 

With everyone now unusually reduced to cooking at home (not part of the Saigonese culture), food shopping took on a higher priority, practically the only activity left we were allowed to do. But even this simple task got more complicated. Vietnam's traditional markets, a popular way to shop locally, were shut down. Then even the local neighbourhood mini-marts, my main source of top-off food runs, took on a new look, with plastic screens stretched across the check-out counter,  staff wearing transparent face shields and only  a small number of shoppers allowed onto the premises at any one time, after queuing-up outside at a respectable distance.  Part of widespread contract tracing, or 'health declarations,' some of them started enforcing QR codes at the store entrance. 



Of course, I didn't have a clue how to operate QR codes on my mobile phone, nor understand all the new instructions plastered up, as, quel surprise, this was all in Vietnamese and store staff didn't speak much English.  Thus, I increasingly ended-up being turned away from some stores; thankfully, some locals were empathetic, kindly letting me fill out a form manually, or use their mobile phone for the QR code form. 

There were, of course, the big supermarkets - like the canal-side Co-Op Mart in District Three - where I was still able to do my big bi-weekly shop. No QR codes and incomprehensible instructions here, just a paper form book and pen (albeit most likely crawling with germs), to manually fill-out.  However, as a still hugely popular premises for weekly groceries, we all had to wait our turn, sometimes taking as long as half an hour, sat outside on a plastic stool socially distanced from the next weary shopper,  before finally ushered into the supermarket in a small select group.   



The tedious wait however was rewarded with a wonderland of plentiful supplies - no panic buying here!



The month of August saw sharp rises in Ho Chi Minh City's Covid-19 cases (from early August around 1306 deaths,  leaping to 7965 in late August), which led to the introduction of even stricter regulations - one being, mandatory food stamps.  I suddenly noticed locals waving these to staff at the entrance of mini-marts and small supermarkets and had no idea what they were, but without this magical piece of paper,  seemed you weren't allowed to enter the store. Waaaah! Would I now run out of bottled water? Rice? Noodles? Bananas?    


"Where do I get one of those?" I frantically asked anyone in the queue who happened to speak English. 
Even though  locals genuinely wanted to help, everyone seemed vague and noticeably worn down with this never-ending lockdown.  
"Go to your local ward authority," one man urged me in broken English.
  
Yet again, it seems, foreigners, are not only the last to know, but almost a mere after-thought.  After chasing-up the manager of my apartment block (who should have organised this in the first place), I finally received my first food stamp, supplied from the local ward authorities but furtively slid under my door late one evening by the housekeeper. However, as it was all in Vietnamese  and with no basic instructions,  I had no idea what to do with it. 

After more chase-up emails, I was finally informed these food stamps were only to be used once a week, on an allotted date and in specified local wards in my District. Officially, I'd then have to wait until given the next week's food stamp to shop again for supplies (I wondered why I saw so many women loaded down with shopping bags in a nation that usually shops on a day-to-day basis at the market). Another new measure to control people's movements, in the vague hope of keeping transmissions down. Only given specific wards to shop in, this forced me to do my food runs at some noticeably more 'local' basic stores, rather than the more internationally-leaning premises I'd frequent and although the big Co-Op fell under my allotted jurisdiction,  I was now fearful of catching Covid-19 there.  

Theoretically only allowed to shop once a week, I did find ways round this. At one of my preferred mini-marts, kindly security guard whom I'm forever grateful to - simply waved me through after I'd done my socially distanced queuing and obligatory hand sanitizer. And after fruitlessly (no pun intended) attempting to enter a string of food stores on upper Hai Ba Trung ( a main street almost unrecognisable with near-on apocalyptic scenes), eventually, an amiable lady allowed me into her small store without any of the usual rigmarole - my effort rewarded with shelves of luscious exotic fruits - like pomelos, mangoes and dragonfruit. 

And then these Godsend's started appearing in various places:  easily accessible pop-up stalls with no paperwork or QR codes involved, selling fresh supplies and dried goods that supported local farmers and vendors whose lockdown income had been obliterated. I stumbled upon fresh produce at the unlikeliest of outlets, like  Guardian pharmacy, where boxes of courgettes, tomatoes and eggs retailed amongst the shower gels, shampoos and deodorants and check-out girls doubled-up as green grocers.... 





After searching in vain for bread, now inexplicably off the shelves, I finally located Vietnamese mini-baguettes at this simple street food kiosk, manned by a smiley Saigonese girl..  




.....and although a bit of a walk, at this makeshift stall at the front of this nice lady's house. Finally, bread, my daily staple!!! Such was the now mundane lockdown life I lead, these were exciting finds indeed. 

And sometimes I was on the receiving end of an occasional kind gesture: walking past a Covid-19 alley in my neighbourhood, a young municipal guard approached me with a smile and handed me a takeaway box of fried noodles and veggies -  rations probably meant for the stricken residents within.   


The pretext of hunting for food was now the only way I managed to get out of the house for my daily 'exercise,' reduced to a stroll around several blocks. As I trudged past road blocks or hotspot alleys, invariably I was questioned by the police and municipal authorities about where I was going, albeit hassled far less than the average Vietnamese resident, of which there seemed to be few about. 

Later on, however, I  reduced my 'daily' forays, and just stuck with the real reason to go out  (food shopping every few days or so), as seeing my once  vibrant neighbourhood permanently shuttered-up, with the only folk visible on practically deserted streets that of officials or motorbike drivers delivering bags of groceries and the only sounds now hitherto unheard birdsong punctuated with the eerie wails of ambulance sirens and PSA's off the Covid-19 van,  was utterly depressing.  

Seems we were all beyond any municipal help-line, as offered in one of the official text messages:

"[TB] People struggling due to COVID-19 in Ho Chi Minh City contact 1022 - press 2 for assistance."

Besides, if you were a foreigner, it would most likely be totally incomprehensible! 

But wait! Amongst the fierce lockdown restrictions, some loop-holes!  In July, a few days after Directive 16 kicked-in, I decided I'd simply had enough and needed to venture into downtown. Moving across town wasn't permitted, unless as a necessity, but in my case, perhaps it was; in dire need of a change of scenery and something interesting to do - anything other than food shopping! Meh. 

As there were no taxis allowed on the road, for my rare 'great escape' day out, I didn't mind the 3km or so walk from District Three into central District One, in sweltering heat - miraculously unchallenged by anyone official the whole way down. Once in downtown, all those 'essential' places still allowed to operate suddenly took-on riveting status: Central Saigon Post Office, HSBC Vietnam bank, the pharmacies  and, thank the Gods,  Annam Gourmet, an upscale food Mecca for expats, where, along with a few others, I was gleefully able to stock-up on yummy foreign goodies, albeit at a price (literally)... 



Then, by chance, I stumbled upon Muji (for those not in the know, a super-hip Japanese-owned home and lifestyle store), inexplicably still open for business! 


God knows how Muji was allowed to stay open for business, as Muji shopping  can hardly be classed as 'essential' (well in my case, perhaps it could), but in this, Muji's Asia's flagship store, true, the place was eerily empty with staff clearly outnumbering the customers (around four, including me), but what an unexpected treat for retail-deprived patrons like this Jaded Empress, given VIP personalized service from the lovely staff and no queuing at the check-out tills!  

And from my balcony (which, as the weeks progressed, became an increasingly useful vantage point), after all the regulations about gathering together, blah blah blah, imagine my exasperation when I spied a group of municipal gardeners working on the lawns opposite a cluster of taped-off houses - worse, inexplicably digging-up sections, leaving the lawns in an atrocious state. ....


And then a couple of times, the municipal tree fellers carried-out their regular hacking of tree branches, further destroying the lovely canal views - one of my few comforts during lockdown! How can this be classed as 'essential work,' inexplicably decimating trees that didn't even need to be pruned-down and groups allowed to gather in a Covid-19 hotspot?


As the lockdown weeks unfolded in Vietnam, the city's worsening situation as the Covid-19 epicentre and lockdown stranglehold were enough to freak out the hardiest of souls, even this one; isolated, with dwindling funds and reduced to foraging for basic supplies on days other than my designated food stamp day. Worse, the Vietnamese government had declared that after May 31, immigration would no longer issue visas for foreigners without work permits or employment sponsors,  only 15-day emergency visas - overpriced and difficult to obtain -  before forced to leave the country.  

Things also started to get pretty dire in my neighbourhood (and I don't just mean the botched lawns and trees): the alley running alongside my apartment block was suddenly barricaded off, because, one can only assume, local residents had tested positive for Covid-19. Which meant I couldn't risk opening my kitchen window on the third-floor, as those nasty Coronavirus droplets could potentially waft-up and waft-in....  



And on the opposite side of my building, one day, a couple of households also got hastily taped-off by the police, followed by a man climbing into his hazmat suit, filling-up his disinfectant spray tank, then marching-off to the offending buildings to sanitize them down.....



....the start of such similar and unnerving sights near where I lived. Early one morning, I  heard a commotion in the alley next door; looking down from my balcony, I watched a group of men in hazmat suits gingerly carry out a wooden coffin wrapped in plastic, hardly rocket science - obviously a victim of Covid-19.  

Hitherto about as rare as a white tiger sighting, there was a noticeably increased presence of police out on the streets (sometimes laying down the law for minor offences in an unnecessary heavy handed manner) and groups of men kitted-out in hazmat suits outside stricken buildings and more road blocks erected to curb as much movement as was possible.  By late August, the makeshift barricade on my street had organically taken over the entire length of it, the bold red and yellow signs commanding drivers not to enter - I even had to check if it was actually okay towalk round the sides of this eye-sore. All a clear indication my ward had rapidly deteriorated into a no-go Covid-19 zone. Great!

The once sociable Saigonese appeared increasing anxious or despondent, for weeks now, laying low behind the shuttered facades of their homes and businesses. Most lived in cramped apartments and few had the privilege of a garden - invariably just a  small balcony - yet they weren't even allowed to exercise themselves or their dogs, or take their kids to the park. If I did pass anyone on the street, venturing out for absolute essentials, most usually gave me an empathetic smile through their face masks, or wave, as if to say, "I understand what you're going through" - a small but monumentally appreciated gesture. 

And 'absolute essentials' increasingly covered going to get tested or vaccinated. Most likely alarmed by the spiraling Covid-19 cases and now welcoming supplies of international vaccinations authorities were now ordering the Saigonese to get tested or vaccinated en masse at public  sites, such as schools, colleges and community centres, etc. 

Initially, foreigners weren't on any vaccination list, as the Vietnamese were the high priority. In fact, foreigners weren't on any list, except that of a few private employers, or the rare international government looking out for their nationals (like the French). Living in the midst of a Covid-19 hotspot and not being able to get vaccinated merely added to lockdown stress. 

By the time I had to get my Covid-19 PCR test, I was a nervous wreck, not helped by inexplicably displaying Covid-19 symptoms - night sweats, raging sore throat and tight chest - that same week. Even to get to the  international medical clinic in downtown was an ordeal in itself: although taxis were still off the road, they were allowed for airport runs or medical reasons - of which I qualified - but I found it virtually impossible to book over the phone or via an App. 

Thus, I was forced to make the 3km or so journey into central District One on foot; as on my prior 'Great escape' day out, normally this pans-out as a pleasant enough walk, heading directly into town along a broad, tree-lined boulevard edged with grand Indochina villas, open-air cafes and dining joints.  However, far from it today, walking in insanely hot temperatures encumbered by a tight chest and sore throat, passing a depressing scenario of shuttered buildings and a massive road block manned by police who suspiciously eyed-me-up as I plodded past. Motorbike delivery drivers manically rushed about and unusually large amounts of Saigonese queued-up in socially distanced lines outside a large supermarket, evidently having just learnt about a strict new measure about to be enforced imminently (as you will read later). 

When I finally reached the clinic, it was unclear what to do; all the makeshift signs were in Vietnamese and locals and the odd expat were queuing for both Covid-19 PCR testing or (privately funded) vaccinations. Thankfully, a young Saigonese man, swathed in a plastic gown and face shield, briefly explained the procedures to me in decent enough English. In a large open-air yard at the rear, I then waited my turn for what amounted to conveyor-belt swabs, sat on a plastic seat, sufficiently  spaced out from those around me and feeling as small and bewildered as a child. I don't know if I was more anxious about my first-ever swab, or catching the Delta Variant off any of those congregating here.  

Once my name was called, I approached an open kiosk, where one of the nurses stuck her plastic gloved arms through two holes in the Perspex screen, before brusquely taking samples from my nose and throat. Resembling something from a Hollywood disaster film, it all became too much for me and I was relieved to get out, even the return journey walking in the midday heat.   

I had to personally collect my test results the following day, but my symptoms had worsened and my repeat walk into town ended-up even more laboured. So anxious that the USD117 test would turn out positive,  I left for the clinic hours earlier than the appointed collection time;  and as such, there was no one about, except for two medical workers, one of whom was the same young man who assisted me yesterday. Recognising me, he informed me that the test results collection point wasn't open yet, but would check if they had arrived. Five minutes later, or seemingly an eternity, he came back out again and handed me a sealed envelope with my Covid-19 test results inside; incredibly, the document stated 'NEGATIVE.'  

The relief and strain of the last few days, nay, weeks, was overwhelming, why I proceeded to break down in tears in front of them.  In between my sobs, I thanked these humbling medical workers profusely for doing their job and expressed how worried I was about my beloved adopted city, almost on its knees and a shadow of its former self. Vietnam and Ho Chi Minh City had endured tough times over the decades, but these last few weeks has been some of the worst.... momentous times that will surely play out in the history books. And I'd been part of it all. 

But the Saigonese young man looked me in the eye and assured me, 

"Don't worry, miss, our city will get better!"

This one sentence was one of the defining moments of my time in Vietnam; not just  epitomizing the sheer resilience of the Vietnamese when faced with adversity, but also how inspirational the youth of Saigon are (I'd often pondered, oh to be young in Saigon, how lucky this Vietnamese generation are, but alas, not so lucky now).  

Due to escalating deaths and new cases,  'Directive 16' still continued the unbearable 6pm to 6am curfew and forbade travel across districts, exercise and non-essential businesses and so on. But the next day, things got even more draconian, with a hastily announced measure declaring citizens weren't even allowed to leave the house to buy food and essentials, only for medical-related  reasons or the airport. All essential goods, medical supplies and food for the next few weeks were to be distributed by the local authorities, the military and other voluntary organisations; this lot now responsible for buying and delivering essential supplies for the city's entire population of around 13 million,  coordinating with local ward authorities, resident groups and apartment building management and a few supermarkets offering additional, albeit limited, delivery services. 

More knee-jerk regulations from a government desperately trying to find a solution to the Covid-19 fourth wave. Not surprisingly, this was a logistical nightmare: relying on, the military and volunteers to buy your weekly shop, some residents didn't get food for days, in some cases, if at all. There were reports  in the international press of  locals going hungry - ironic in one of the world's greatest food destinations -  and some expats complained that even though they had plenty of money to purchase food, they now didn't have enough to eat. And if you did get your supplies, invariably, these were delayed with not exactly what you'd ordered.... or anticipated getting. 

And so things dragged on into September....  by the end of the month, Vietnam's total number of Covid-19 related cases reached approximately 19,098  deaths and 786,209  infections, but Ho Chi Minh City remained the nation's bad boy with the worst tally of rising cases and deaths, despite a strict lockdown for around 100 days. 

Not surprisingly, city dwellers were finding these brutal conditions increasingly intolerable.  Those that could leave, like the thousands of foreign expats, had already fled home, albeit on limited and often extortionately priced international flights. Many, not only having lost their jobs and savings, but with visas now expired; as the 15-day emergency visas were too difficult and expensive to keep renewing - (immigration had now literally left the building, consumed with other distractions) - they had no choice but to get out. 

Things however slowly started to turn the corner, with mass testings and vaccinations ramped-up, approximately 90 percent of the city's adult population now having  received their first vaccination (8 million of Vietnam's population now double-vaccinated). And the 'mass military food shops' eventually got supplemented with some food stores and outlets  allowed to open, mainly for delivery services (with conditions) and those exemplary districts with consistently lower cases, handed a small bit of freedom back, albeit with health apps. 

Finally, Ho Chi Minh City’s historic lockdown - like much of the rest of the country - was lifted on  October 1 -  along with 'a new directive on pandemic control.'  Although many regulations  still remained in place and some service sectors and venues remained closed, restrictions in most areas of Ho Chi Minh City would gradually ease-up.  Numerous services, work premises, indoor and outdoor events and businesses could now resume operations and traditional markets, supermarkets, shopping centres, convenience stores and selected lifestyle stores were ow allowed to open  - albeit subject to conditions. Perhaps, most exciting, everyone could go out and exercise again and the parks were open, ut alas, restaurants and eateries were only  allowed to open for deliveries and takeaway, while high-risk venues like bars, spas, nightspots, cinemas and karaoke, still didn't get the go-ahead to open. 

It's been heartbreaking to see this amazing city so silent, immobilised and under duress, but as infection rates continue to decline, death rates slow down and more of the population get a shot in the arm, perhaps now Ho Chi Minh City - and Vietnam - is heading in the right direction and can focus on the tentative steps of reopening and getting life back to a 'new normal' ......  

As the young man at the clinic defiantly declared, despite the inevitable mental health crisis, tally of ruined businesses and livelihoods and escalating poverty that will surely emerge post-lockdown - and daily life that might never be the same again -  Ho Chi Minh City will (eventually) 'get better' - and surely back to its former fabulous self! 



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