Picked up by Uncle Paul, Grand Uncle and Grand Auntie at the HCM airport, I’m ushered into the air conditioned van and driven through the city to Uncle Paul’s home. It’s chaotic, 10/15 motorbikes to every car. Bangkok was not this crazy. And there is absolutely no regard for traffic rules, yet somehow it all works. Rules appear to be: go and even if there isn’t enough room or time, go anyway and stop only when u must to avoid hitting anything/anyone. Driving is done on the right side of the road. Uncle Paul’s driving is amazing — he weaves through the traffic, honking, squeezing through, and pushing his way through the…