There's a lot of aggresive pedlars here in Saigon, everything from newspapers to books to sunglasses to cigarette lighters. The newspaper sellers gather yesterdays papers and try and sell them to you. They don't seem to understand that,

1) They're yesterday's papers and no, you're not going to pay $2 for old news so piss off.

2) La Figaro and Der Spiegel and the Guardian are not papers written in the same language.

3) The International Herald Tribune which publishes a daily edition on Satrday labelled Sat/Sun (they don't publish on Sunday) does not mean that they have a right to charge you twice as much for a paper you don't want anyway.

They can get quite aggressive, what they also don't realise is that the internet is so cheap here that it's cheaper to print out your own newspaper than it is to buy yesterdays second hand news, literally. The shoe-shiners have a neat scam here, they offer to clean your shoes and either run off with them or pull stitching loose, show you the problem and then offer to have them fixed for you. For a price. And when you pay up, they run off with them.

You can always spot the new kids in town, for some reason they always look bright pink, walk fast and act flustered, and all along the crowded street you can literally see eyes light up, hands rub crackling together and a collective telepathic voice saying 'Dinner!', as they move in for the kill.

It doesn't matter how many sunglasses or papers or books you have piled in front of you (I usually have about three or four books on the go at the same time), they'll still try and sell you one. One day shortly after arriving in downtown Saigon, I was sitting at a street caff minding my own (well at least trying to), when there came a persistant voice,

'Sir, buy lighter sir?'

More of a command than a request coming to think about it. That's how it starts...it seems rude...but...

'I don't smoke.' That should get rid of him, besides it's true, I don't smoke.

'May'be you have candle.'

What? What did he just say?

'I don't have a candle.' I reply firmly.

'May'be you need souvenir!'

'I don't need a souvenir!' Oh this is getting ridiculous!

'May'be you have friend at home who smokes!'

'I don't have any fucking friends!'

'May'be one day you find friend!' he suggests brightly.

'Oh for fucks sake, just give me a fucking lighter then and now piss off.'

I reasoned that by buying a bloody lighter and displaying it on the table in front of me it would deter all future lighter sellers. So there it was, standing proudly in front of me on my table next to my four books neatly stacked, my sunglasses and my newspaper. That should keep me from being disturbed, an ill-deserved confidence as it turned out.

'Sir, you want lighter sir!'

'I already have lighter.' I said tightly, gesturing at the small metal zippo in front of me.

'Sir, want bigger lighter sir!'

'I don't smoke.'

He eyed the lighter suspicously,

'May'be you have big candle!'

'I don't have a fucking big candle...'

...After half an hour I had a Russian dolls collection of sodding lighters neatly stacked before me, but when you think its all over it's only just beginning. The word has spread faster than teenage gossip, like wildfire along the street pedlar jungle vine.

'Sir! Want rose sir!'

'I don't have a girlfried.'

'Sir! I get you girlfriend!'

'I don't want a girlfriend.'

'Sir, may'be later you meet girlfriend!'

'Just give me the fucking bunch.' I grab the lot of the child.

So now I have four books, five lighters and a dozen or so bloody red roses. As the afternoon wore on more books, CDs, belts, bags of fruit, racks of sunglasses all piled up on my table until finally I could not be seen behind the mountain of crap products that I never wanted in the first place. But, safe at last - if they can't see you they can't hassle you. And then a voice from under the table,

'Sir! Want shoe shine sir!'

That was it. I cracked. I gave a good, hard kick, and heard a satisfying yelp from under the table as the urchin scuttled away. Shoe shine? I wasn't even wearing any fucking shoes.

yechydda,

Two days later with rolling powercuts following a local fire, I wish I'd kept the sodding lighters and had bought a candle, a big candle.