The style and decor were unexceptional. Apart from the panka fans hanging from the ceiling, gently swayed by an invisible hand, the furnishings were almost identical to those in most chambers used for deliberations. The room was stark white, without moldings, and opened two side corridors to the public. Surely many chambers had less beautiful premises.
Cool off on Binh Loi bridge
I attended one of the council meetings and did not regret my afternoon. To be honest, the discussion was not very interesting. That day, they dealt with only trivial matters: complaints, applications for subsidies and relief - many of them. They also discussed new taxes, an increase in the export tax on rice, and the discussion became more animated. But this did not last long. They returned to the complaints.
Around the horseshoe-shaped table, the French councillors in white sat interspersed with their Annamese colleagues in dark tunics, standing out on the green carpet like dominoes. The natives, very serious, very disciplined, determined not to miss a syllable even if they did not understand it. Only at the time of voting did an interpreter help them grasp the situation, translating the rapporteur's conclusions for them.
And, miraculously, however complex the conclusions, the interpreter managed to convey them fluently by applying the method of the intermediary character in the Bourgeois gentilhomme, that is, to reduce the information to three or four onomatopoeic words, which sounded like Belmen and Marababa sahem, which convinced me that Annamese had many of the same attributes as Turkish, a language with few words but with so many meanings that you should not ignore them. Then the native council members nodded solemnly and the discussion moved on to other matters.
But the peculiarity of this council, the essential thing which endeared us to it, was its simple, unashamed, and plainly most affectionate regard for human frailty and the extreme heat of the changing seasons.
In contrast to what happens in other parliaments, where the stuffy atmosphere often covers the speakers' voices, here people speak together… and enjoy refreshments.
In front of each person was a drink of choice diluted with ice and soda water. Occasionally, waiters passed around the room, refilling glasses and bringing cigars and cigarettes to those who wanted them.
Saigon day and night
In general, the city is quite pleasant, although life is fragmented. In contrast to what happens in tropical cities, which go to bed early and rise early, Saigon stays up late and sleeps in. By 9am, except for the local residential areas and the area around the market, the streets are quiet and the doors are locked.
Only the Cha Chetty and the Chinese showed signs of activity: the former squatted in stalls about half a square meter wide, settling the books; the latter, consisting of tailors, shoemakers, and carpenters, in the narrow ground floors, called "compartments" here, began to work with sewing machines, awls, and planes.
It was not until 9 or 10 a.m. that white suits and uniforms appeared on Catinat Street. At 11 a.m., people had lunch. Then, again, from noon to 3 p.m., the shops closed. It was lunchtime: the streets and cafes were deserted, Saigon was quiet again.
From 5 to 7 pm, people often go to listen to music or take a tour of the inspection tour. Music plays, sometimes at the Botanical Garden [now the Zoo], sometimes in front of the officers' club [now the People's Committee Headquarters of District 1] on Norodom Avenue [now Le Duan Street], not far from where the bronze statue of Gambetta is erected. [...]
The provincials call the "Tour d'inspection" a "city tour." It is a pleasant 10-kilometer journey along unrivaled scenic roads that pass through busy canals, past rolling rice paddies and swaying coconut palms. The traffic is cheerful and bustling, from Victorian carriages carrying well-groomed ladies and elegant gentlemen to humble, rattling cabs.
On the roads, horseback riders and cyclists race at speed. But, although cycling has a large following here, it is not yet a highly regarded sport.
Four times a week, from nine o'clock to midnight, only Saigon and Batavia had theaters. The auditorium was arranged in much the same way. The building was in the middle of a square, under the shade of trees, and could accommodate 1,000 spectators, which was more than enough. The interior decoration was simple but elegant, and the auditorium was designed to suit the climate. The boxes of seats were separated from the terrace overlooking the garden by low partitions for ventilation. In such conditions, the plays were less horrifying and the operettas less tragic. (continued)
Nguyen Quang Dieu excerpted from the book Around Asia: Cochinchina, Central Vietnam, and Bac Ky, translated by Hoang Thi Hang and Bui Thi He, AlphaBooks - National Archives Center I and Dan Tri Publishing House published in July 2024
Source: https://thanhnien.vn/du-ky-viet-nam-mot-phien-hop-cua-hoi-dong-thuoc-dia-185241204223959157.htm
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