Vietnam - Five incidents and their insights

Visiting a country that has been subjected to constant invasion, conflict, and hardship over the past two millennia, one might expect to find Vietnam a struggling nation filled with mistrust and resentment.

Instead, you arrive to some of the most spectacular scenery, bustling city centres, and people filled with passion and ambition, forgiveness, and respect.

After an awe-inspiring two weeks in the country to conduct business visits, some adventuring, and participating in the Asia New Zealand Foundation Leadership Hui, what should the world know about Vietnam?

Here I share five unexpected incidents which happened during my fortnight in Vietnam. Each event shared the similarity of surprise, and each taught me a fascinating lesson about this unique country – which I think much of the world could learn from.

An almost decapitation, and a lesson in optimising opportunity

With a mortality rate of 7.8 per 1000 riders, it was with some apprehension that I straddled the back of a 75cc scooter to experience the surreal scenery of the (in)famous Ha Giang loop.

By day two, I had already become confident enough to start slurping pineapple smoothies from the back of my bike and let myself be immersed in the ancient landscapes, all while being driven by my new Vietnamese brother whose only words of English were the lyrics to Back Street Boys ‘I want it that way’ (any more meaningful conversation solved with a handy translator app).  

The diverse sights of the loop are enough for their own article, but one striking observation which continued to astound me was the complete dedication of the region’s smallholder farmers to maximising land-use efficiency. Every square inch of land was planted in a crop, whether a flooded lowland plain, a square of soil dangling on a rocky outcrop, or rowed volcanic hillsides with slopes greater than 90 degrees.

This had me wondering about the contrast of fields planted by heavy machinery in our intensive farming systems, where up to 5% of an area can be missed through the rounding of corners and obstacles such as water troughs. This loss of premium cultivatable food producing land when extrapolated could equate to over 5000 hectares in New Zealand alone.

It was during these musings that my scooter driver started a wide swerve and some manic tooting (scooter toots are essentially the constant background sound of Vietnam, however the wide swerve got my attention). I glanced up to see a barefoot man carrying a 10ft long roofing panel across the road, and heading on a direct collision path with my head. Despite the agility of my driver, the collision couldn’t be avoided – and in the same second that the panel was about to connect with my face, I thrust my hands upwards with all the strength I dared, pushing away the panel while trying to avoid sending our scooter into a full slide. With a fortunate combination of timing and skill – we remained upright (however many loud Vietnamese words were shared between our tour leader and the man), after which I skipped out on my pineapple smoothies for the rest of the day.

When the adrenaline had finished its laps around my body, I was able to reflect again on what lessons the impressive optimisation of land could lend to our highly automated modern practices. There’s no advocating for a reversion to back-breaking labour-intensive crop management. But perhaps a combination of remembering our hands can do some work too, and potentially act as a supplement to utilise that last 5% of the field. Or on the opposite end of the continuum, could we instead ensure future precision crop technologies are as land-area efficient as the barefoot farmers working the slopes of Vietnam’s countryside.

Super strength grandmothers and a lesson in community collaboration

A sight which I had assumed was increasingly reserved for travel brochures and museums was much more prevalent than I expected. That sight was the sun-wrinkled faces of elderly Vietnamese farmers carrying giant bundles of leaves and sticks (which were at least double their size) up steep hillsides. I wasn’t able to speak with any of these elderly farmers directly, but I did have the opportunity to share conversation with other locals, who explained to me some of the farming practices I’d been observing across the croplands. What I think is the most special part of the farming communities of Vietnam is the collaborative nature of production.  

Each farming family has their own distinct land area, however, rather that each focus on their own individual spaces, the farmers work in large community groups. A dozen or more people can be seen moving from field to field, neighbour to neighbour, to support each other in a way that increases efficiency, social cohesion, and overall productivity.

It’s worth mentioning that this collaborative nature was not only evident in the rural high lands, but right through to international trade, where Vietnam has one of the greatest number of bilateral and multi-lateral trade agreements of any other country in Asia.

It appears to be increasingly rare for the ‘modern’ farmer to spend a day, or even an afternoon helping out across their neighbour’s fence. Our intensification of farmland has accelerated in parallel with the increased isolation of our farmers, and that’s a trend I think everyone would like to see reversed. I hope we can see greater investment into rural hubs, community groups and initiatives that catalyse this collaboration and interaction, for the benefit of not only knowledge sharing and production, but wellbeing and fulfilment as well.

A four-year fast-track to $1 billion and a lesson in enabling entrepreneurship

Vietnam has experienced world-leading GDP growth for 15 years, consistently growing between 5 and 8% per year in a trend that is forecast to continue and leapfrog the economy from 35th to 10th in the world by 2050.

This growth has been empowered at several layers. One end of the spectrum is success story showcases such as FPT the largest information technology service company in the country which doubled revenue in just a four-year period to reach USD$1b at the end of 2023. As part of the Asia New Zealand Foundation leadership delegation, we toured this company and shared presentations with several senior executives who told the story of FPTs values, growth, and future ambition.

While engulfed in the traffic, street food and beer stools sprawled across the streets of Hanoi, you will also find businesses operating on the opposite end of that spectrum. These are thousands of thriving microenterprises lining the narrow roads, from high school students with their side-hustles, to grandparents sizzling enticing traditional snacks for the hungry passersby.

There has been one common enabler from these billion-dollar businesses to the street sole-trader, and that is the regulatory ease of establishing and running enterprise. Of course, as an emerging economy there are social and sustainability related regulatory gaps which require constant improvement and closing in the future. However, Vietnam displays to an extreme the simple lesson of how simplified regulation can stimulate much greater access to entrepreneurship and growth.

An artificial island security escort, and a lesson in incentivising investment

Within just 15 minutes of lounging in the cushioned seat of an electric powered golf-cart, I saw a humungous blue dragon hovering behind the entrance to ‘Legend theme park’, hundreds of million-dollar multi-story apartment buildings, an imported-sand beach with filtered sea-water, spiritual temples, the first 18-holes of a 27 hole golf course, and more. The colours and architecture looked like Chat-GPT had been asked to create a tourist location based on the imagination of a child, a golfer, and a sunbather. But what was easy to forget when cruising through this eerily empty (under construction) development, is that it was built as a ‘floating island’ on artificial land.

After giving an introduction on behalf of the Asia New Zealand Foundation (with a translator), my first question to the team of Do Son Dragon Ocean resort, was whether an artificial island is a resilient long-term investment alongside climate change and rising sea levels. It turns we were also going to be shown state-of-the art sea wall engineering surrounding the island, and a 2000ha mangrove restoration project alongside the development.

 What the resort team was most successful with however, was impressing this group of wide-eyed kiwis. In addition to the 20ft printed banner with our logo, the dining delicacies, and security entourage – we were given a powerful presentation on the investment strategy (targeted predominantly to local Vietnamese investors), two sessions of in-depth Q&A, and a beautiful brochure and gift to take home. Enough to make me wish I had a few more Vietnamese Dong or USD to invest myself!

The exceptional level of hospitality shown by this group (and the many others we visited) without any expectation of benefit or reciprocity was inspiring to say the least (even somewhat guilt inducing).

What this also showcased was the power of authentic hospitality, creating layers of incentives to investors, and how both domestic and international capital can be combined to upsize sustainable development projects.

Karaoke, forgiveness, and a lesson in being future focused

On my final night in Vietnam I was invited to join a group of students from the prestigious National Economics University for dinner, after meeting them earlier in the week. As the only kiwi in the delegation with the remaining energy levels (or bravery) to spend a final evening out with the group – I had to explain before we reached the Karaoke segment of the evening, that my tendency towards tone-deafness and preference for Taylor Swift anthems wasn’t necessarily the New Zealand norm.

However, my greatest insight from an evening of deep conversations with the group (between singing “Love Story” and the Vietnamese national anthem) was their attitude. It’s difficult to articulate the combination of inspiration and respect I felt as the students spoke to me about their ambitions for their community and their country, as they shared the authenticity of their curiosity about life in New Zealand, and as they demonstrated a level of respect, manners, and maturity well beyond their years.

In summary

One trend held across the entirety of my fortnight in Vietnam. The people I met held a common belief that despite the atrocities that had been inflicted in the country’s past millennia of invasion and occupation, and the ongoing geopolitical tensions of the region – their focus was fixed on a peaceful and prosperous future, and to make the lives of themselves, their families, and their country better. This attitude didn’t come across as a nationalistic or forced agenda, but a genuine and general collective mentality. One local mentioned “if we hated every country who has invaded or wronged us, there wouldn’t be many people left on the planet to interact with!”.

I think much of the world could take lessons from the positive and forward-looking attitude of the people of Vietnam. It’s important to learn from the lessons of the past, but also to make sure history doesn’t trap us in a cycle of intergenerational mistrust, resentment, or conflict.

So, after expecting a simple scenic scooter ride, a few interesting business meetings, and some great street-food, I walked away with that and so much more from my time in Vietnam. I feel very privileged to have built life-long connections, learnt so much, and to now have the opportunity to share a slice of my experience with you.