Voting Noo Zulland style.

Well my brother arrived from Paris yesterday morning and we embarked on a high-speed intro to HCMC before leaving for Cambodia today. As part of the touristing we went to the New Zealand consulate to lodge overseas votes for our upcoming election.

My mate has the expression 'Vinamoment' to describe those uniquely surreal Vietnamese moments that seem to happen pretty regularly here (almost every vietnamese company is 'Vina-something or another' e.g. Vinamilk, Fonterra's equivalent). Well this was one of those - but it was actually a New Zealand moment in a Vietnamese setting - seriously bizarre and quite entertaining.

We found the consulate and went in, finding a big kiwi bloke who wandered up and said 'oh, you want to vote?'. Overseas voting only began 2 days ago so I think we may have been some of the first, which is never a good thing.

Pretty quickly transpired that he didn't really know how it worked - there was a Vietnamese chick who sort of did but she also seemed intent on covering up our unique voting numbers on our papers with a black sticker - not really sure what that was about.

Anyway, we sat down in the 'official voting room' and muddled through the paperwork for my brother - who went behind the designated official 'voting bookshelf', did his thing, put it in the overseas ballot envelope and posted it into the box (we even got a photo of him doing it in case the press called).

My one should also have followed suit but at that point the consul, who had wandered in earlier and said hello, called the Vietnamese chick away on some 'urgent business'. Leaving me mid-voting process, sitting opposite the big kiwi guy and wondering what to do - as he clearly didn't know.

So, in time honoured Kiwi style, we engaged in chit chat. Turns out he has been in Vietnam for 12 years - and, when my brother said he had lived in Paris for 14 years the guy responded with 'wow, and you still vote? I gave up on that years ago!'....

...and yes, the person saying this was also the person wearing the 'returning officer' badge who was helping us to vote.

So, after about 10 more minutes he disappears off and comes back grumpily cos' it seems the consul has stolen the Vietnamese chick in order to help him pay for some plane tickets for his upcoming holiday this long weekend...which, of course, is seriously urgent business.

So, the returning officer, after a few more minutes thumb twiddling, eventually says, 'well, you've ticked the boxes, why don't you just leave it with me to put in an envelope and post into the box for you......?'

Hmmmmmm....... thinks I, while pissing myself laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

'Um, OK, seeing as the sole chick who can do it is otherwise occupied with planning the consul's holiday, sure what the hell...she'll be right mate, right as rain!', says I.

So, I'm pretty sure I voted...but if Aunty Helen doesn't get back in I am singularly blaming the Vietnamese consulate in HCMC!

Right - time for some Cambodia - we've got a plane to catch.