Adventures with Vietnamese Bureaucracy

My last night in Hanoi I had my camera stolen (from my pocket) somewhere on my way back to the hostel. I only realized this once I walked through the hostel door.

To claim it on the travel insurance, I require a police report. So, the next morning, I went to make such a report. The receptionist at the hostel gave me directions to the police station. The officer at the front desk of the station, though, refused to make any effort to understand me.

Back to the hostel where I had the receptionist write out a detailed description of what happened and a request that I be allowed to make a police report for the purpose of claiming the loss from my travel insurance.

I returned to the police station and handed over the note. The officer read it with a blank expression and passed it to another officer. This officer took his time searching through several cabinets and finally produced a form in Vietnamese and English on which I could report the
theft. I filled out the report, once again writing out in detail a description of what had occured, where it had occured, when, etc.

The first officer then left the station. I sat, not quite sure what was going on. About fifteen minutes later the officer returned with a Vietnamese female who explained that she was there to translate my report. She filled out a second form, slowly, this time writing my statement in Vietnamese.

I had been in the station almost an hour at this stage.

I signed the forms and handed them over to a third officer (the first two were no longer present).

This officer took his time reading the report before looking up and speaking rapidly in Vietnamese.

The translator turned to me.
"What do you want him to do?"

"To do? Nothing. I want him to stamp my report and give me a copy so I have an official police report acknowledging the theft of my camera so I can claim it back from my travel insurance."

She translated my request. The officer looked unhappy but gave it some thought. Finally he turned back to the report and read it again. Suddenly he brightened. He spoke in rapid Vietnamese to the translator.

"The officer says you wrote that the theft happened on Hang Gai. Is that right?"

"Yes, well, it happened somewhere between Hang Gai and Ngo Huyen. I can't be sure exactly where."

I might, at this stage, point out that my original note from the receptionist in Vietnamese outlining what had happened and which I had given to the officers when I first walked through the door of the station had already stated the likely location of the theft. This was no new information.

The translator repeated my answer in Vietnamese. Now the officer was really pleased.

"Well, he says if it happened on Hang Gai, that's a different police station. You can't report the theft here. You have to go to the other police station to make the report."

"I see. He couldn't just stamp it and throw away his copy?"

She didn't bother translating this, but instead just smiled at me. At this stage I got up, thanked them both, and left. I was already running late for my flight to Bangkok which, because of my adventures at the police station, I came close to missing.