Honda Heaven?

Motorbikes are clearly the main mode of transportation for the Vietnamese people today; very few cars and relatively few trucks and buses dot the roadways. It seems that South Vietnam saw the arrival of Honda motorcycles in 1967 with the 50cc Cub, and by 1972 there were hundreds of thousands on the road. Most of them were Hondas and the brand name became the generic term for motorcycle.

In 1975, after the war, Hondas began arriving in the north and with the economy opening up in 1986, Honda saw an opportunity, introducing the Honda Dream. It cost a relative fortune at $2,600, and whole families commonly traveled on one bike.

In the mid-90s, the Hondo Dream #2 and #3, with 110cc, hit the market. Eventually the Super Dream arrived and prices were now about an average two month's salary at $1,100 and soon about 27-29 million motorbikes existed in Vietnam. The law sets maximum passengers at two adults and two children but it is not enforced (enforceable?).

Huy points out that not only is the bike an economical way to move, it "works" in a society where roads are relatively small, the population dense, and, perhaps most interesting, it is easy to pull up to the ubiquitous house-front shops that supply daily necessities. Everything is moved by motorbike -- huge piles of products, boxes, fresh eggs, a water buffalo (legs tied to avoid kicking), and Huy's new refrigerator!

The Crane and the Turtle

A Vietnamese proverb says:

"The crane and the turtle are friends."

Huy tells us the story of the crane and the turtle.

Bronze crane and turtlein the Temple of Literature

"Once there was a great flood. All the land was covered with water. The crane flew and flew, looking for a place to land. He didn't find any dry place on which to land. Finally, a turtle rose above the water's surface and said, "You can rest here on my shell." So the crane rested.

"Later on, all the water in the turtle's lake dried up. The turtle became very dry. It needed to be in the water. The crane swooped down, picked up the turtle, and carried it to a lake where there was water.

"So, you see, the crane and the turtle cooperated to help each other.

Gilt crane and turtle in restaurant

Gilt crane and turtle on wall of restaurant

"When you see the image of the crane on the turtle's shell, you cannot say that the crane is standing on the turtle. The image is to remind us that we need to cooperate and help each other."

Vietnamization

Throughout our journey Huy has repeatedly mentioned how the Vietnamese have kept parts of cultures which have conquered them over time and have made the part uniquely Vietnamese. Examples of Vietnamization:

From the Chinese: The signs of the zodiac have been Vietnamized. Where the Chinese have the year of the ox, for the Vietnamese it is the water buffalo. Where the Chinese have the year of the rat, for the Vietnamese it is the cat.

Confucianism: Confucianism reached Viet Nam over 2,000 years ago. The Vietnamese imperial dynasties adopted Confucianism pragmatically because of its ability to sustain a system of social order without much repression, and for its code of social mobility based on merit. The Vietnamese people think of Confucius not as a god, but as a founder of a philosophy. Huy commented: "The knowledge you gain from education defines what you can contribute to society."

From the French: "We threw out the French, but kept the bakery...(pause) so you can have a choice at breakfast." e.g. croissants, brioches, patisseries.

At the daycare center in the small village near Hoi An, the 3- and 4-year-olds broke into a melody which we recognized as Frere Jacques; the lyrics were Vietnamese.

Water hyacinths were imported by the French because they liked the lavendar blossoms. The plants are invasive in Vietnam. We have seen the plants near rice fields and floating on the Mekong River. The Vietnamese are finding ways to use the troublesome plants: as food for pigs, as fertilizer, as strong paper for paper bags, for furniture,clothing, and hand bags. Yes, the Vietnamese are creative and enterprising.

Floating market on the Mekong

Rusty has already posted an image of this morning's trip down the river to this remarkable floating market.  This is a wholesale operation, where families bring boatloads of produce, identified by the item placed atop a tall bamboo pole, to sell to retailers who transport it to further markets.

We slowly wove our way through hundreds of boats, grouped according to produce:  cabbages, squash, sweet potatoes, bananas, pineapples, jack fruit, other root crops and fruits I didn't recognize.  Boats were full of life -- chickens, dogs, babies, colorful clothing, stoves and pots, clearly a floating home as well as wholesale storefront. The amount and variety of produce was impressive!

While this may seem quaintly rural, note the fellow above on his cell-phone... trading? while the young man in the smaller boat (with a very modern engine) is loading cabbages.

And of course, the enterprising vendors of soft drinks, water, and fresh pineapple quickly sideled up to the tourist boats to ply their trade ... "One dollah!"

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."

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.