We are cousins who graduated from Smith College in the 1960s, in the midst of the Vietnam War. We live in different parts of Massachusetts now and are delighted to be traveling together to Vietnam. Our understanding of Vietnam's history and culture has grown by leaps and bounds as we prepared for our trip through reading. We hope family and friends will join us, virtually, as we take our trip!
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Floating Market in Can Tho
We just embarked on a river boat early this morning headed for one of the many floating markets in the Mekong Delta region. More later!
Naivete in the Face of Ingenuity
From the Saigon airport to the Mekong Delta area we had a 3-hour bus ride. Huy's first words on the bus were: "Do you want to hear another passport story?"
Huy began by explaining that in 1995 Vietnamese could travel freely within the 10-nation ASEAN nations. No passport required. Most Vietnamese travelers were inexperienced. Many Ha Noi residents had not traveled beyond Ha Noi.
"One day a tourist company called me and asked if I wanted to handle a big job. I said yes.The job would be taking a group of travelers to Russia. There would be 54 in the group...a large group. I was told, 'Whatever the cost you must hold the passports for everyone.' I said I could do that. I had an extra large bag.
"The flight went from Ha Noi to Bangkok, to Dubai, and to Moscow.When we arrived at a huge hotel in Moscow, I told the group to meet at breakfast at 9:00 in the morning. I was exhausted and went straight to bed.
"In the morning, in the dining room, I thought something was strange. I did not see one of my group at the dining room. The local guide arrived at 8:50 am as arranged. Still not one of my group was anywhere to be seen.
" I called every room. No one answered the room phone. At 9:10 am I got a master key and a hotel employee and I went to the rooms. No one was in any of the rooms.
"I decided I needed to call the office in Vietnam. I explained what I had done and that none of the travelers were in any of the rooms. The office said, 'We know that. Don't worry. They had no intention of seeing Russia at all. And, do you have all the passports?' "Yes," I replied. "I do have all the passports."
Well, the explanation for the "disappearance" of the group is that in early 1990, Vietnamese monopolized the whole black market in Russia. Then, they needed laborers to help with their businesses. They wanted to bring some friends and maybe some relatives to Moscow. So the shortest route was to bring them via a travel agency.
"Having lost the group, I upgraded my room to a suite, then had a nice private tour of the places where I would have taken the group.Then I returned to Vietnam. What should I do with the 54 passports? The agency said the police will come to ask you some questions.
"The police did come. They said they heard that I had lost everyone in the group. "Yep,I did. I lost all of them." Well, this turned out to be nothing bad at all. The travelers had paid the equivalent of $600 USD per person to the government.So the government was happy. This was a legal human trafficking system.
"Many years later,I met one of those people in Ha Noi. I asked how things were going for him. Very well, it turns out. Most of those people were able to earn $400 to $500 USD per month and send half home to Viet Nam. His wife could build a big house and send their children to the university. There were a few hundred thousand Vietnamese people living in Russia.
"So I asked What if you want to go back to Viet Nam? Well, that's not a problem. You get a big group of friends. You go to a bar and create a scene. You get arrested and kept in jail for about a month. Then you are put on a plane and are sent back to Viet Nam."
Huy began by explaining that in 1995 Vietnamese could travel freely within the 10-nation ASEAN nations. No passport required. Most Vietnamese travelers were inexperienced. Many Ha Noi residents had not traveled beyond Ha Noi.
"One day a tourist company called me and asked if I wanted to handle a big job. I said yes.The job would be taking a group of travelers to Russia. There would be 54 in the group...a large group. I was told, 'Whatever the cost you must hold the passports for everyone.' I said I could do that. I had an extra large bag.
"The flight went from Ha Noi to Bangkok, to Dubai, and to Moscow.When we arrived at a huge hotel in Moscow, I told the group to meet at breakfast at 9:00 in the morning. I was exhausted and went straight to bed.
"In the morning, in the dining room, I thought something was strange. I did not see one of my group at the dining room. The local guide arrived at 8:50 am as arranged. Still not one of my group was anywhere to be seen.
" I called every room. No one answered the room phone. At 9:10 am I got a master key and a hotel employee and I went to the rooms. No one was in any of the rooms.
"I decided I needed to call the office in Vietnam. I explained what I had done and that none of the travelers were in any of the rooms. The office said, 'We know that. Don't worry. They had no intention of seeing Russia at all. And, do you have all the passports?' "Yes," I replied. "I do have all the passports."
Well, the explanation for the "disappearance" of the group is that in early 1990, Vietnamese monopolized the whole black market in Russia. Then, they needed laborers to help with their businesses. They wanted to bring some friends and maybe some relatives to Moscow. So the shortest route was to bring them via a travel agency.
"Having lost the group, I upgraded my room to a suite, then had a nice private tour of the places where I would have taken the group.Then I returned to Vietnam. What should I do with the 54 passports? The agency said the police will come to ask you some questions.
"The police did come. They said they heard that I had lost everyone in the group. "Yep,I did. I lost all of them." Well, this turned out to be nothing bad at all. The travelers had paid the equivalent of $600 USD per person to the government.So the government was happy. This was a legal human trafficking system.
"Many years later,I met one of those people in Ha Noi. I asked how things were going for him. Very well, it turns out. Most of those people were able to earn $400 to $500 USD per month and send half home to Viet Nam. His wife could build a big house and send their children to the university. There were a few hundred thousand Vietnamese people living in Russia.
"So I asked What if you want to go back to Viet Nam? Well, that's not a problem. You get a big group of friends. You go to a bar and create a scene. You get arrested and kept in jail for about a month. Then you are put on a plane and are sent back to Viet Nam."
The Grim Silent Dark
On our last night in Hue, we returned to the Mandarin Cafe where we had lunch the previous day. The walls of the cafe are filled with wonderful photographs of the people and landscapes of Viet Nam, the work of the owner we were told. We were each given a post card of one of his photographs, and shown many albums of his work. The owner himself--Mr. Cu--greeted us when we returned for a light supper.
We had heard he had served with the South Vietnamese army before reunification. Indeed, when he found out we were from the US, he told us with great pride he had been a fire fighter on the runway of a nearby Army base. His bitterness about the war, or rather its aftermath, was quite evident. Neither he nor his family were able to get work because of his collaboration with the US. This is consistent with what we've read and heard from several sources. He ended up making money by repairing old watches and selling them, until he made enough to start this restaurant. He seemed overly eager to share his negative feelings about the communists, and had derogatory things to say about the North Vietnamese.
Huy spoke candidly today about the re-education efforts (in fact, he used the term "brainwashing") of more than 100,000 South Vietnamese collaborators, including the father of one of his friends in Saigon, who endured the "re-education" camp for seven years. For years, he refused to allow anyone from North Vietnam in his home. Although many, like this man, blame the north for their predicament, Huy says it is not a regional divide, but a philosophical one. After all, he points out, many who now live in the south were originally from the north, and vice versa.
Case in point: one of the nation's leading photographers is Dao Hoa Nu. She was born in Hue, educated at Catholic schools, and moved to Saigon with her family when she was 15. I came upon a profile of her in the Vietnam Airlines flight magazine, a light weight journal otherwise devoted to fashion and beauty care. An aspiring singer, her career was cut short "amidst the endemic post-war hardship nationwide," and ended up selling sweet soup on the streets of Saigon. Somehow she managed to get into photography, and has been very successful. But what struck me was the following quote from her:
"Out of my lens are horizons that bear no resemblance to each other: paddy fields, rivers, mist drenched mountains, or sometimes the grim silent dark that enfolds us all. They are always the miraculous and profound poetry."
It's not that I have been looking for this, exactly. It's just I wonder how a people could survive so much pain, so much loss, over centuries and appear so forgiving and optimistic. In Buddhism, there is an acknowledgement that suffering exists, and always will. That one of our responsibilities is "to bring joy to one person in the morning, and ease the suffering of one person in the evening." Somehow Huy's humor and generous spirit are more profound to me when understood in the context of the grim silent dark.
We had heard he had served with the South Vietnamese army before reunification. Indeed, when he found out we were from the US, he told us with great pride he had been a fire fighter on the runway of a nearby Army base. His bitterness about the war, or rather its aftermath, was quite evident. Neither he nor his family were able to get work because of his collaboration with the US. This is consistent with what we've read and heard from several sources. He ended up making money by repairing old watches and selling them, until he made enough to start this restaurant. He seemed overly eager to share his negative feelings about the communists, and had derogatory things to say about the North Vietnamese.
Huy spoke candidly today about the re-education efforts (in fact, he used the term "brainwashing") of more than 100,000 South Vietnamese collaborators, including the father of one of his friends in Saigon, who endured the "re-education" camp for seven years. For years, he refused to allow anyone from North Vietnam in his home. Although many, like this man, blame the north for their predicament, Huy says it is not a regional divide, but a philosophical one. After all, he points out, many who now live in the south were originally from the north, and vice versa.
Case in point: one of the nation's leading photographers is Dao Hoa Nu. She was born in Hue, educated at Catholic schools, and moved to Saigon with her family when she was 15. I came upon a profile of her in the Vietnam Airlines flight magazine, a light weight journal otherwise devoted to fashion and beauty care. An aspiring singer, her career was cut short "amidst the endemic post-war hardship nationwide," and ended up selling sweet soup on the streets of Saigon. Somehow she managed to get into photography, and has been very successful. But what struck me was the following quote from her:
"Out of my lens are horizons that bear no resemblance to each other: paddy fields, rivers, mist drenched mountains, or sometimes the grim silent dark that enfolds us all. They are always the miraculous and profound poetry."
It's not that I have been looking for this, exactly. It's just I wonder how a people could survive so much pain, so much loss, over centuries and appear so forgiving and optimistic. In Buddhism, there is an acknowledgement that suffering exists, and always will. That one of our responsibilities is "to bring joy to one person in the morning, and ease the suffering of one person in the evening." Somehow Huy's humor and generous spirit are more profound to me when understood in the context of the grim silent dark.
Monday, October 15, 2012
International Treasures
Legend has it that the countless rock formations dotting the seascape of Halong Bay are the result of a prehistoric dragon's crash into the water, the dragon sent by the gods to protect the country from an invading army. Whatever the explanation, the result is magical.
Halong Bay is one of several UNESCO World Heritage Sites we are visiting on our journey. As of 2012, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization lists 962 sites around the world that are "of special cultural or physical significance." Explore the UNESCO link to discover remarkable places!
In Hue yesterday and today we visited the complex of monuments (the Imperial City, the Forbidden Purple City and surrounding grounds) designated by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site in 1993. This historic example of the Vietnamese feudal empire, at its height in the 19th century and ending in 1945, brought an aspect of the country's history vividly to our attention.
We are so lucky that someone, some organization, has said: "Hey, dudes. This is important. Pay attention." I feel this way about the National Parks in the United States. Important cultural and physical places are highlighted for everyone to experience. We are so lucky.
Halong Bay is one of several UNESCO World Heritage Sites we are visiting on our journey. As of 2012, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization lists 962 sites around the world that are "of special cultural or physical significance." Explore the UNESCO link to discover remarkable places!
In Hue yesterday and today we visited the complex of monuments (the Imperial City, the Forbidden Purple City and surrounding grounds) designated by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site in 1993. This historic example of the Vietnamese feudal empire, at its height in the 19th century and ending in 1945, brought an aspect of the country's history vividly to our attention.
We are so lucky that someone, some organization, has said: "Hey, dudes. This is important. Pay attention." I feel this way about the National Parks in the United States. Important cultural and physical places are highlighted for everyone to experience. We are so lucky.
Thien Mu Pagoda
This morning (10/15, if my gmail is to be believed) we woke to clear blue skies and the sound of a million scooters and motorbikes passing the Saigon Morin Hotel in Hue. We walked across an adjacent park to the Purple River, where we enjoyed a leisurely cruise down the river in a broad boat clearly intended for tourists. Never missing an opportunity to encourage tourist trade, the boat was full of tchatchkes for us to purchase.
Around several bends (and many photos later of low-sitting barges carrying gravel up river to construction sites) we cam to the Thien Mu Pagoda, a seven-story octagonal tower called the "Source of Happiness Tower." According to my guidebook, this pagoda was founded in 1601.
Walking into the compound, one comes upon a wonderful shrine, where a Buddhist monk occasionally strikes the large brass bowl shown below. Those wanting to pray enter this space, while the rest of us tourists stand back but are allowed to take photographs. The sound of that deep gong resonated throughout.
What I didn't know was that this was the home monastery of Thich Nhat Hanh. Young monks were quietly walking to their quarters while tourists streamed through the very restful retreat. A collection of bonzai trees sat within a courtyard. Young pines provide shade at the rear of the property, where fencing is reinforced with rusted barbed wire.
The unexpected emotional whallop was the car, shown below. This is the vehicle driven to Saigon by monk Thich Quang Duc and his brother monks in 1963. The plaque in front of the vehicle, and the photo behind it, honor this monk who, surrounded by the other monks, immolated himself in protest against the Diem regime. For those of us who remember the news of this event, this quiet memorial within the peaceful setting had a powerful impact.
Around several bends (and many photos later of low-sitting barges carrying gravel up river to construction sites) we cam to the Thien Mu Pagoda, a seven-story octagonal tower called the "Source of Happiness Tower." According to my guidebook, this pagoda was founded in 1601.
Walking into the compound, one comes upon a wonderful shrine, where a Buddhist monk occasionally strikes the large brass bowl shown below. Those wanting to pray enter this space, while the rest of us tourists stand back but are allowed to take photographs. The sound of that deep gong resonated throughout.
What I didn't know was that this was the home monastery of Thich Nhat Hanh. Young monks were quietly walking to their quarters while tourists streamed through the very restful retreat. A collection of bonzai trees sat within a courtyard. Young pines provide shade at the rear of the property, where fencing is reinforced with rusted barbed wire.
The unexpected emotional whallop was the car, shown below. This is the vehicle driven to Saigon by monk Thich Quang Duc and his brother monks in 1963. The plaque in front of the vehicle, and the photo behind it, honor this monk who, surrounded by the other monks, immolated himself in protest against the Diem regime. For those of us who remember the news of this event, this quiet memorial within the peaceful setting had a powerful impact.
Impact of war
Striking to me is how little we see of the devastation from the war, despite knowing that Hue in particular was subjected to intensive street-to-street fighting, particularly the two months following the Tet Offensive. Yesterday (Sunday 10/14) we visited the Imperial Citadel, home to the last (puppet) emperor of the Nguyen dynasty, and there could see the demolished walls and open spaces where the majority of this compound had been destroyed completely. But the degree to which Vietnam has rebuilt itself over the past 35 years is remarkable.
Driving through the mountain range that separates DaNang to the south from Hue to the north (Hue is halfway between DaNang and the DMZ), I noticed that the vegetation while quite lush seemed very young. Even the fast growing bamboo and pines were small in diameter. Huy confirmed this: the area had been a dense jungle, easy for Viet Cong ambushes, and thus was bombed, strafed, otherwise demolished. He mentioned returning to this region with a Vietnam Vet and his Vietnamese driver who had made the trip between Hue and DaNang at least three times a week, firing his automatic weapon continuously for the entire way.
One lasting legacy surprised me: the US flew overhead and dropped seeds of a very fast-growing (can we say, invasive?) vine that quickly took over the area. This vine -- with its dark green leaves and silver undersides -- could quickly telegraph any movement through the terrain. So yet one more environmental legacy we've left -- a vine that continues to grow throughout the area. Maybe not as devastating as the impact of Agent Orange on the wildlife which will suffer for generations from mutation and extinction, but still...
Part òf Citadel that hás not bêen restored.
Lush vegetation covers remnants of what had been the royal
headquarters òf the last emperor of the Nguyen dynasty.
Driving through the mountain range that separates DaNang to the south from Hue to the north (Hue is halfway between DaNang and the DMZ), I noticed that the vegetation while quite lush seemed very young. Even the fast growing bamboo and pines were small in diameter. Huy confirmed this: the area had been a dense jungle, easy for Viet Cong ambushes, and thus was bombed, strafed, otherwise demolished. He mentioned returning to this region with a Vietnam Vet and his Vietnamese driver who had made the trip between Hue and DaNang at least three times a week, firing his automatic weapon continuously for the entire way.
View from rest stop enroute to Hue
One lasting legacy surprised me: the US flew overhead and dropped seeds of a very fast-growing (can we say, invasive?) vine that quickly took over the area. This vine -- with its dark green leaves and silver undersides -- could quickly telegraph any movement through the terrain. So yet one more environmental legacy we've left -- a vine that continues to grow throughout the area. Maybe not as devastating as the impact of Agent Orange on the wildlife which will suffer for generations from mutation and extinction, but still...
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Farming village
(Aside: when in the 1990s Huy first saw the historic town of Hoi An -- a 16-17th century trading center south of DaNang, discovered and eventually protected by a Polish archeologist-- he said he was deeply moved by the rich multi-cultural history in its architecture, layout and generations of families. Something has been lost as it has catered more and more to tourists, even though protected as a national heritage site.). But back to this farming community.
We entered by way of a day care center, tucked under a leafy canopy and full of 3-4 year olds who came out giggling and waving, then lined up and sang Frere Jacques in Vietnamese. (The legacy of French colonialism is still apparent everywhere.) Beyond the shady cluster of small buildings lay the fields, a tidy mosaic of long narrow bands of herbs--basil, mint, lemon grass I presume or perhaps shallots, and a staple called morning glory-- with modest but well-tended homes around the perimeter. Groves of cumquats with small green fruits and the occasional white flower punctuated an otherwise flat palette.
In the middle of the gardens stood this family grave (the red raised casket-shaped structure) -- not unusual. We saw many graves amid the rice paddies outside HaNoi, placed by fortune tellers who advise families exactly where and in what alignment will be the most auspicious location for these ancestral graves.
Spread out on the poured concrete patio in front of this home was rice drying in the sun.
Huy is showing us the cumquats (above) and the morning glory (below) which is a staple in Vietnamese salads and stir fries.
Outside the perimeter of housing, water. I wondered if the land in the middle had been built up for housing and agriculture by dredging out these rice paddies somewhat, or whether the river just splits around slightly higher elevation. Probably a difference of less than a foot, but there are larger berms of soil built up between the wet areas and the homes. Of course, the ubiquitous water buffalo was not far away.
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