Is This Akron?

September 2, 2001-War Vets Aussie Style

(photos:
Temple Shalom-Gold Coast
Our welcome home)

The day was sunny and warm for the Jewish war vets lunch at Temple Shalom. Some of our experience there was so bizarre yet some parts were so familiar. Most attendees were older. It was a side-dish pitch-in with the steak, burgers, and beef bangers (sausage) being cooked in the kitchen. I was seated next to a woman named Lily who was in turn next to her best friend Lillian. They’re known as the Lilies. They were sure I’d starve and kept asking if I’d had enough to eat.

Also at our table were two people from Scotland who’d immigrated to Australia. As if we didn’t have enough trouble with the Aussie accent now we had a Scottish burr to deal with. There were three to four Americans at the affair and each one came over with an offer to speak American to me whenever I needed to. Everyone in the room was eager to meet us and we soon found ourselves hearing a litany of names knowing we would have to remember them all.

At one point David had to meet with Alven, the president and Jack , head of the services committee. I was left alone with the masses. I just waded in. After all I’d been doing this for over thirty-two years. Before I knew it I was once again talking to strangers as if we were life-long friends. They bent over backwards to make us comfortable and we got several dinner invitations. David did get some good news. They fully expect us to take off now and then to travel for a few days or a couple of weeks. They have good coverage for services and will be most generous with our travel time. That was a relief.

Marcus (the redheaded baby) was there and his “mum” was busy teaching him manners. He says, ”Ta,” when given something. She says they teach it to children before “thank you” because it’s so much easier to say. I also learned that all the signs we saw advertising “pokies” referred to poker machines.

The raffle proceeded at a snails pace. The woman in charge plodded through over 100 gifts she had to raffle. I was wrong. They weren’t wrapped. She described each one before drawing the number and then made comments about the winner. It was interminable but funny. She has a high, screechy voice and used a mike. She wouldn’t put up with any interfering chatter and kept shushing the group. I guess winning the diamond earrings at the Mother's Day brunch didn’t use up all my raffle luck. We won a plastic chip and dip plate and a small clear glass vase. The vase will be perfect for the Shabbat flower David brings me each week. The plate will serve us well in case I need to bring a food contribution when invited to a home hosted dinner.

The Low Down

We got a tour of the temple, which has a social hall that opens up to a charming sanctuary. It has colorful stained glass windows and about six to seven rows of seating that arc around the pulpit. They have three Torahs in the ark two of which are scrolls rescued after the Holocaust. It will be a pleasant place for services. There’s an outer office, which is where Howard his secretary sits. He’s there until noon and answers the phone. The computer and copier are in Howard's office. David’s office only has a chair and table that serves as a desk. His phone is on the wall across from the "desk."

Like the Old Days

We needed to do shopping so we headed out to explore the Pacific Fair Shopping Center across the street from our apartment. It’s an open-air mall with covered garage parking. Go figure. This seems to be common here. Maybe it shelters the cars from the sun and uses less space since the garages are multilevel. The stores close at 4 PM since it's Sunday. They’re only open until 5:30 PM on weekdays except for Thursday when they’re open until 9 PM. Does this sound familiar to some of you oldies? That’s the way it used to be before 24/7 shopping.

Our first stop was Kmart. We had our choice of that or Target. Kmart was closer. We ended up buying what we think is a good camera. It’s much smaller than our old one and now we have a working flash. In U.S. dollars it was a deal. We never did get to food shopping which meant we had to eat out. That’s never a problem. We headed up to Surfer’s Paradise, which they call Surfer’s, in search of an Internet café. We asked for directions at Blockbusters and they sent us on our way. Does it sound as if we’ve left Ohio at all? We came across the ReMax Realty office here, but it was closed. I would have gone in and may in the future.

Minor Adjustments

We were able to find the right level of our car park tonight without accidentally exiting and having to re-enter. David remembered where the kitchen garbage was kept (there’s no room under the sink) even though he couldn’t find where we put the camera. I have a good handle on where the ocean is so I can find north but still confuse light switches. The buzzers and ringers are another mystery. I set the timer on the oven to time a dryer load of permanent press. When it rang, David picked up the intercom phone. Just now the intercom phone rang. It was a wrong number but I’d answered the telephone first. We both keep putting on the windshield wipers instead of the directional signal. When we do manage to find the “indicator,” which is on the right side of the steering wheel, it’s unnatural to push it up for a left turn and down for a right.

It’s nighttime and we're home. Yes, it’s home already. Even though I well up as I type it and choke when the folks here ask about our family, we’ve begun to nest. We found time to walk along the ocean road. The full moon was reflecting on the Pacific, the waves were lazily rolling in and if it had been warmer we would have walked barefoot on the beach. There’s time for that.

We’re on what they call the first floor here. What we would call the first floor they call the ground floor. As we opened our door, we looked across to the balcony and saw the pool and deck all lit up. What a greeting! We were home.

Toby

Going Aussie

Sept. 1, 2001-Almost There

(photos:
Our home,
Kookaburra welcome)

We tried vegemite. It’s labeled, “yeast extract concentrate.” It tastes and smells exactly like a cake of yeast. Vile is too mild a word to describe it. People say you have to get used to it but I really think you have to come from Australian lineage and be missing a gene for taste buds. That brings me to the food we’ve eaten. If you notice there’s been a lack of descriptive detail about our meals in the emails since we’ve gotten here. That’s because, although lovely to look at, the food is truly bland. We did eat at a Malaysian restaurant and David had a dish that was described as mildly spicy and actually had flavor.

Aussies also seem to allow more uncensored formats on TV. After 9 PM anything goes. During the day we’ve heard one talk show host describe women who have liposuction fat injected into their lips as literally speaking out of their ass. Condoms are sold in public restrooms with ads that say, “Fly the Flag.” There was a sign over a urinal that said. ”Look straight ahead; pretend you are alone. See if it works. For washroom advertising, give us a tinkle.” The one I saw was an ad that said, “Don’t just sit there…….Imodium.”

Surfer’s Paradise-Real Life Australia

The flight from Sydney was lovely. We were low enough for most of the trip to see the Pacific and the coastline. Towns disappeared as the bush and The Great Dividing Range came into view. Nothing like a sensible name for a mountain range.

We were met at the Coolangatta airport by the president of the congregation, Alven , age 31 who teaches 8^th grade maths (his word) and science. He was joined by his 13 month old son Marcus who has flaming red hair. Syd and Janet Bruce, age undetermined, but parents of Rebecca, 18, and Daniel, 20 completed our greeters. They loaded our belongings into the Bruce’s Jeep and hauled us to our new home.

The drive from the airport was about fifteen minutes along the coast. Most of it was business and single family residential until we neared Surfer’s Paradise. The high rises loomed in the distance. One set of pink buildings caught my eye. It turned out to be our new home. It’s well located across a four-lane road from the largest shopping center in the area. It’s a 6-7 minute walk to the beach and a short stroll to an area of cafes and the casino. The building is a new residential hotel.

It’s a secure building. We have to press the key onto a magnetic plate to get into the garage and then again to get into our parking level. If you come in from the street and only use the key to open the door the elevator won’t open. You have to again activate the magnetic strip.

We have a one bedroom, one bath apartment with a sleeper sofa. The furniture is new but sparse. The bedroom has a queen-sized bed and end tables. There is one clothes closet in the whole place. It has some shelving and hanging area. When our clothes come (I’m getting really nervous about that) we’ll have to use the linen closet and kitchen cupboard for storage. We have a TV/VCR and air conditioning. There’s no heat. No one has heated homes here. As the Europeans, Australians are in denial about flying insects. There are no screens.

Our kitchen is equipped enough to suit us. There is service for four. If we have more to dinner, we’ll use paper. There’s a microwave, a tiny refrigerator, and a dishwasher. I may never have enough dirty plates at one time to use the dishwasher. Janet Bruce bought some basics food-wise (milk, pop, bread) and supplied bath towels and washcloths. We need to fill in. We discussed whether or not to buy toothbrush holders or to continue to use the travel cases. We decided that seven months was long enough to make ourselves comfortable and to make it home.

Sliding glass doors in the living area and bedroom open to balconies overlooking the pool. They are our only windows. We also have a pair of kookaburras who don’t live in an old oak tree but have set up housekeeping on our living room balcony and in the palm tree next to it. They’re members of the magpie family and have a very distinctive call. It’s the bird version of a hyena laugh. They’re meat eaters and not easily frightened. We’ve taken pictures of them with the sliding door open and they just stare at us. I shooed them with my hand but not until I flailed at them with a pillow did they leave. If we wanted an Australian experience, I guess we have it now.

Is This Miami in the 1950’s?

The Bruces introduced us to our car. It’s an aged Mitsubishi that was probably an extra someone could spare. It’s large and intimidating considering the traffic patterns here. They took us on a drive-by of the temple. David drove. As long as I keep telling him he’s too far left he’ll do fine. The same goes for me. I got to drive home. It does take concentration. At least it’s transportation.

Temple Shalom is on the Isle of Capri. That’s as it should be given the names in the area. There’s Mermaid Waters, Surfer’s Paradise, Miami, and Palm Beach. Our apartment building is in Broadbeach. The temple building is made of tan brick and is a basic rectangle. We haven’t been inside yet. They have a website. I don’t know what it is for sure but you can search under Temple Shalom Surfers Paradise Australia.

Getting Acquainted

We went to dinner at the Bruce’s and were joined by the airport greeters along with Elizabeth, Alven’s wife. It was an informal cookout. We were at our first “barbie!” I’d told Janet about losing David’s birthday card and finally finding it when we unpacked. She supplied impromptu cookies and candles. They live in a neighborhood of nice, medium sized houses that are newish and close together. Theirs backs to the river. From what I could tell it has a large deck or patio area with a hot tub. A big storm came up and was lovely to watch.

Syd works for a company out of Spokane that makes polymer fasteners for bread packages, Kwik Lok. I guess someone has to make those slip-on tabs. His wife works at a bank and will help us set up our account here. Their son, Daniel, works in a toy store and will help us figure out which ISP will be best for our computer needs. The congregation got us major medical coverage and Elizabeth is checking to see what to do if we just need to see a doctor for a minor illness. The evening was very relaxing with lots of laughs all around.

They said that Australians consider themselves to be the 51^st state of the U.S. They’re addicted to any trend or fashion that’s American. They even call soccer by the right name. Football here is Australian Rules Football. They have Indy racing although it’s a 300 not a 500. They call coaches buses and were just as confused about the sign at the Opera House that referred to “cloaked items” as we were.

Responsibility Looms

We found out there’s a BBQ at noon for the QAJEX. That’s the Queensland Association of Jewish Ex-Servicemen and Women Gold Coast Branch. It will be held at the temple. Guess we’re going. They expect 120 people. Evidently this far exceeds the usual attendance for this annual event. As in Akron, new rabbis bring out curiosity seekers. This is the part that we’ve not been looking forward to. Being “on” all the time. We now have to start learning names. These seem to be really nice people and we want to give them our best. The problem is that David retired because he didn’t want to do that kind of work anymore. Well, we knew what the deal was when we made it.

Along with the barbie at noon there will be a “tombola.” That seems to be a British raffle that Syd didn’t understand. Tickets are sold but prizes are wrapped so winners don’t know what they’ve won. Fortunately it’s informal. We’ll wear jeans. That’s all we have besides shorts, a suit for David, and a dress for me.

You’ll be happy to know I’ve already done two loads of wash. The appliances are mini- sized, after all, and running the dryer helped warm the apartment.

Toby

Hitting The Sydney Streets

August 31, 2001-Sydney, Australia

(photos:
Waiting to tour Opera House,
Dining companions)

We started our day at an Internet Café. The cost here is $4 for unlimited time. You can’t beat that. Wending our way to the Opera House, we decided to visit the Great Synagogue. It’s only open on Tuesday and Thursday for tours. Saying that David was a rabbi wouldn’t even open the door. They told us to come back for Shabbat services.

Heading for the Botanical Gardens we passed yet another McDonalds. I swear this town has more than the U.S. Several had McCafes. They’re coffee counters that serve pastries, espresso, etc., but they’re run by and are part of McDonalds. Sydney’s trying to out-Seattle Seattle.

Gutsy Guides

The Gardens are lovely even in winter. They’re on a hill overlooking the bay and Opera House. The Opera House looked more appealing today as it peeked through the trees in the distance. They have small nooks and crannies in the garden and lots of benches. Most flowers weren’t in bloom but the setting was a delight. The best part was the sign that welcomes visitors. It asked people to please walk on the grass, hug a tree, or smell a flower.

We stopped to tour Government House. Our guide was the best part. She was very opinionated about past governors, the style changes to the house, the selection of the colors of flowers in the arrangements, and the royals whose portraits were displayed. At one point she noted King Edward VII and his long-suffering and lovely wife. It seems he had a bit of a wandering eye. She agreed with me that he was their version of Bill Clinton. She used the word ”baltzy” to describe the Irish who came to Australia. When asked for a definition, she said they were assertive. I think we’d say “ballsy.” Being the font of knowledge of everything Australian, we asked her about the odd bird with the long curved beak we’d seen yesterday. There were some on the lawn of the house. She told us they were ibis. She assured us there are many varieties of ibis in the world. I was a bit disappointed that the name was not more exotic. I was hoping for at least four syllables.

We continued on down the hill with our eyes riveted on the sail-like roof of our destination. We spotted another strange looking bird that amused us. I called it a crow wannabe. It’s shaped like a crow but is black and white. The white part is very bright and looks as if the bird was spattered with paint. We knew this wasn’t the case unless the whole flock of them had run into Jackson Pollock.

We had to wait for the next tour of the Opera House so we grabbed lunch by the quay and watched the bridge climbers. The bridge is open for climbing 24 hours a day rain or shine. They don’t sell advance tickets for the Opera House tour and by the time we got to the ticket office the next tour was fully booked. They gave us drink coupons and we sat at a café to wait. David waited. I fell asleep.

Opera Lore

The Opera House was grossly over budget when it was built. I think it was supposed to cost 8 million Australian dollars and take two years to complete. It actually cost over 102 million Australian dollars and took ten years. The Scandinavian architect walked off the job and has never returned to Australia. Ultimately it was paid for from funds raised by selling lottery tickets. The lottery is still in existence with some of the funds going to the arts.

Performances start exactly on time. The doors to the theaters close and no latecomers are admitted. They’ve locked out their own Prime Minister and George Bush, Sr. who had to wait until the next interval (intermission). We saw the theater where dramas are performed and I must admit I was disappointed at the interior. The place is shabby. The lobby for this area is tacky at best and has low ceilings. It reminded me of a Cineplex. There are about five performing arenas in the building. There’s a separate concert hall and opera hall due to differing acoustical needs. In all, there were over 2,000 performances there last year.

Once we moved up to the main lobby for the concert and opera areas the architecture changed dramatically. Ceilings soared and concrete buttresses created the vaulted heights expected when the building is viewed from the exterior. There was a rehearsal in the opera house so we only saw the concert hall. It’s contemporary in the extreme as is the whole structure but this performance space is what I ‘d imagined. Pick a superlative and it would fit. It’s stark in its grandeur and regal in its mass.

In reference to my comment about the dullness of the roof in my email of yesterday, the roof is made of beige and white ceramic tiles that were treated to be self-cleaning and to prevent the growth of moss. When it rains they somehow clean themselves. There are well over 1.5 million tiles and only four have fallen off in the twenty-two years since the Opera House opened. The exterior of the building is modular so portions can be removed for maintenance and then put back in place.

English As A Second Language

I just remembered something our guide Hai told us in Hue. As we climbed out of our touring car for the hundredth time, he told us to “watch our heads.” He then laughed and said that Americans use that term, but it’s impossible to actually watch your own head. We agreed that the British caution to “mind your head” made more sense.

Today was filled with many instances of the foreignness of our native tongue. At the Opera House we read a sign in English and were clueless. We were at the coat check desk and the sign said, ”Cloaked items are now available at the stage door.” We understood that they called the place a cloakroom, but that was as far as we got. David went into the gift shop to ask for a translation. It seems that when you check an item at the cloakroom, it’s considered to be cloaked. Therefore, if you forget to pick up the cloaked item after the show it’s taken to the stage door area where it can be retrieved at a later time.

So it made sense in a warped way that they were out of maps in English at the Tourist Information Bureau. They explained that although the commentary could be had in any of 10 languages, the streets and sites were all on the map in English so we should be able to do just fine. That eliminated any chance of us not understanding Australian English. I opted for the French explanations.

As we strolled up to George St. to catch a bus back to the hotel, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. We passed many boutiques but one of them was cleverly named FCUK. It offered contemporary clothing for Fashion Conscious Uninhibited Kustomers. That’s a thin line they’re walking.

With our magic phone cards we spoke to Wendy, Daniel, Vikki, and Alex yesterday. It was good to hear their voices. At a cost of seven cents per minute our calls will be more frequent than we thought possible. We also made contact with Surfer’s Paradise. They didn’t mention an address for us. We’ll find that out tomorrow. We did ask about the things we shipped six weeks ago from the States. I think our baggage Karma has just run out. Our belongings haven’t arrived. We’ll begin investigating on Monday.

Tomorrow it’s Coolangatta and our new home. Please keep your emails coming.

Toby

WE’RE IN AUSTRALIA!

August 30, 2001- Musical Airlines

(photo-Sydney Harbour Bridge & other sights)

I can’t believe it was only last night we were in Siem Reap watching a show of indigenous dances. The costumes were stunning and the dancers graceful movements were enthralling. The similarity to Thai dances wasn’t coincidental. Cambodia borrowed from Bali (Indonesia in general) and Thailand. Then Siam borrowed from Cambodia.

After enjoying a cold shower (the water spirits didn’t shine on us) we headed for Bangkok in hope that Cathay Pacific would get us to Sydney. Due to the work slowdown of Cathay, we were ticketed on Cathay directly to Sydney and also booked on Cathay to Melbourne with Qantas taking us to Sydney. Both scenarios involved long layovers in Bangkok, stops in Hong Kong, and on and on.

When we got to the airport at Siem Reap, we decided to check our suitcases through to Sydney. We figured that, ultimately, they had to get there. If we checked them to Bangkok and retrieved them before finding out what flight was really going to Sydney we’d have to go through customs and pay re-entry and exit fees all over again. We boarded a two-engine Bangkok Airline plane and waited to see what fate had in store. This would be our 11^th flight with on time arrivals and no lost luggage. No one had yet questioned all the medication we were carrying (ten months worth) or the two syringes we had just in case. Was our luck running out?

On landing, we headed for the Cathay Pacific desk in Bangkok expecting to have to negotiate crowds and irritable agents. Neither happened. Three agents worked with us for forty minutes to get the best arrangements made. They got us onto a not too full British Air flight direct to Sydney that left in two instead of five hours. They found our luggage at Cathay and transferred it to Brit Air. We got exit row seating and all this happened with smiles and efficiency. Once the plane took off we looked at each other and said, “We’re really going to Australia.” The one thing we didn’t anticipate was that because we eliminated the layovers we’d get in early the next day. How early? Due to noise abatement rules in Sydney no planes can land before 5 A.M. We landed at 5:08 A.M. The 747 touched down like a ballerina executing a “tour jete.” Everything was going smoothly, but would our hotel have a room?

Smooth Landing-Bumpy Entry

First we had to clear customs (piece of cake) and quarantine. They don’t fool around with food, plant, or soil contamination. There are dogs sniffing, forms to fill out, stiff fines (thousands of dollars), and possible jail time. You have to declare if you have sports shoes that have clods of earth sticking to them. We threw away my larder of a few rice cakes and raisins only to realize that I had gum and candy in the suitcases. We fessed up and they let us pass. One question on the immigration form was whether you’d ever been convicted of a crime. I thought that, given the history to this country, an affirmative answer to that would expedite entry.

With one thing and another we got to the hotel at 7:00 A.M. They had a room, but no key. It took all day to get one made so each time we came and went the desk clerk had to escort us and open our door. Our room is the size of a New York hotel room but has more furniture in it. It will do. It’s about $75U.S. with breakfast, but this is the big city. We were exhausted, so we grabbed a bagel at the corner Starbucks and went to sleep for 3 ½ hours.

When we woke up, we wanted to check the Weather Channel, but there was none. We did surf by Judge Judy. We hit the streets to buy a phone card and get acquainted with yet another culture. The other culture we met was not unfamiliar. It seems that our hotel is in Chinatown. The bi-lingual signs and Asian people gave it away. It was like a bad joke. Getting the phone card to work was another issue. To code it we had to press "hash" on the phone keypad. It took several tries before realizing their "hash" was our "pound" key.

Same, Same, But Different

We went to the Harbor area to take a cruise and find the real Australia. The people on the bus who babysat us until they were sure we got off at the right stop were real Australians. They look like Americans and almost sound like them but there’s a twist. Not only do they hang on the world upside down and drive opposite half the people on the globe, but their brains are wired a bit differently too. Some examples: the biggest money making event in Sydney is the Gay Festival that is held for a full month in June; they sell food in sporting goods stores (it’s like buying a sandwich while shopping for shoes at the Athlete’s Foot); they sell sushi in some Internet cafes; if you come to a crosswalk and wait on the sidewalk the cars won’t stop; if you step a toe into the road between the lines of the crosswalk all traffic instantly comes to a screeching halt; they thank you before you do something for them (if you hand a clerk an item in a store she’ll say, “That will be $5, thank you.”) Father’s Day is Sept. 2; they have no pennies (when the register rang up $6.68, the clerk asked for $6.70); we had an adapter to fit Australian plug configurations, but it’s not grounded (we found one that was “earthed”); Imodium here is to help with “wind pain” (we should send it to Florida during hurricane season); I haven’t been able to discern which direction the toilets swirl (clockwise or counter) because the ones we’ve seen shoot a water jet into the bowl at such velocity there’s no time for a swirl to develop.

Our harbor cruise was relaxing and informative. The city is built on hills and buildings vie for a waterfront view. Between the skyline and the water it’s a glistening gem of a place. The opera house is prettier in a picture than in reality. The base is a dark tan color and the white sails are dingy. I’m sure it’s magnificent at night. Since the sun was shining, we lunched outside at a bayside café. Dinner was at Darling Harbor in a small pub. Restaurant food is a bit high but groceries seem reasonable to low. Gas runs about $1.50-1.75/gallon. It’s sold by the liter.

We’ll head out tomorrow and might take a ferry to the zoo to meet all the new animals. We saw some strange birds mixed in with the pigeons and seagulls in a park. Everyone agreed they weren’t kiwis, but no one knew what to call them. Lots of historic buildings have been turned into shops but the exteriors evoke a past that isn’t so distant. The U.S. isn’t old compared to most countries but compared to Australia we’re entering our dotage.

Toby

Water Gods Smiled

August 28, 2001-Looking Up

(photos:
Leper King,
Sponge Trees)

I got a hot shower last night. The air conditioning ultimately cooled the room enough for sleeping. We got used to Savon’s accent. I re-read the guidebook to be more familiar with names and places. It’s legal to use marijuana here. Things are looking up.

We asked Savon about the high prices and she said that room rates are $200-$300/night. In the U.S. it would be about $65-75 for equal quality. Luxury hotels go for $300-$1000/night. I thought that maybe the reason phone calls were so expensive was the phones are a color I’ve never seen before. It might be costly to manufacture sickly mint hued plastic. Maybe the phone manufacturers were smoking legal pot when they chose the color.

Khmer Rogue

Savon spoke of the Killing Fields, which were not only in Phnom Pen but all across Cambodia. Siem Reap has a population of 50,00 today and, although this was not an area of great Khmer Rouge activity, she lost an aunt and uncle. Last night, the people we met at dinner said their guide lost nine out of eleven in his family.

The Khmer Rouge killed the educated, those who spoke a foreign language, and anyone else they wanted to. Over three million people died out of a population of eight million. Many died of disease or starvation while hiding in the forests. Even the wild animals fled to Laos and elsewhere. A herd of three hundred elephants recently returned. Savon said the land mines have been cleared around the cities, but there are still many about forty miles away. People work every day locating and disarming them. One person can clear only an area of three square feet a day. David asked if there were any Khmer Rouge left in Cambodia and if the people were afraid they’d rise up again. Savon said that many of them are in the government and live a very good life. She doesn’t think there will be a problem.

Housing is about the worst we’ve seen on this trip. Shacks are built with thatched roofs and are on stilts. The walls, if any, are thatch or tin. Some homes are just a tarp with hammocks strung in the corners. High metal walls run for blocks as you drive down the road. At openings in the fence we can see hovels behind the wall. I think the walls were erected to hide the poverty from tourists. Only soldiers are given the money to build decent houses. Savon lives with her mother, husband, sister, brother-in-law, her two year old and her sister’s two children. Unemployment is high and being multi-lingual is and asset. It was unclear how long the government paid for schooling, but it seems it’s only for pre-school. After that the people pay for books, pencils, and uniforms. Savon said it’s very cheap, but even those essentials must be a stretch for most.

We passed a football (soccer) stadium on the way back to the hotel. Savon said that boys and men don’t play football much anymore. They prefer snooker (billiards). I guess they’re getting lazy.

Other Angkors

We headed for Angkor Thom (Big City). It was built in the 13^th century of the same sandstone as Angkor Wat. The Bayon Temple in Angkor Thom, unlike Angkor Wat, was originally covered with gold. It was the royal city for the king who built it. I thought it was more imposing than Angkor Wat. It was built as a Hindu Temple but later became Buddhist. It has fifty-four towers with four faces of the king on each tower. A lotus flower tops each tower. A huge central tower overlooks it all. It must have been a glorious sight. Now it’s crumbling. International efforts are being made to restore it. The bas-relief carvings were more defined and detailed than at Angkor Wat. They depict soldiers of the Khmer (the original name of Cambodians) and Chinese fighting together as allies. It was easy to tell the difference between the two. The details were intricate down to scales on fish and woven sides of wagons. Later in the bas-relief the story of the Khmer defeat by the Champa people is told. If you recall, the Champa were from central Viet Nam later conquered by the Vietnamese. We crawled all over the ruins climbing steps, scampering along ledges, and wiggling in and out of windows to see it all.

The next temple in this city was Bapuon. It was built in the 11^th century as a Hindu temple to the god Shiva. Angkor Wat was built to Vishnu. The king kept the lingaa on the third level. The lingaa is a phallus and thought to be the source of his power. Has nothing changed? It’s usually a huge stone shaft set atop a pedestal symbolizing a female organ.

We saw a terrace dedicated to a leper king who was believed to have that disease. It was a judgment terrace. If you were worthy you were disease free, if not you got leprosy. I guess he wasn’t so lucky. There were many more temples that we saw but limited our climbing to a select few.

R and R

We went back to the hotel for a rest at 11 AM and our driver picked us up for lunch. When you start at 8:30 AM, a rest is nice. David slept and I wrote to you all. Lunch was at an attractive tourist restaurant in an outdoor pavilion. We’ve only been given Western utensils (forks, etc) when we ate at the hotel. We asked Savon about chopsticks. She said Cambodians use forks, etc and some still use fingers as the Indians do. Cambodians don’t use chopsticks. Neither do Thai. Their roots are more Indian than anything else. Cambodian cuisine isn’t original and borrows from everyone else, so we had Thai soup, beef curry, cashew veggies, and a fried noodle dish. That was about all we’d consider on the menu. We had to choose from frog, rabbit, serpent fish, eel, and the ever-irresistible pork liver. A nice touch was that each table came with its own plastic latticework trash basket. It was handy for disposing of the “napkins.” They were single ply tissue resembling toilet paper (of which there is none except at hotels) but were dispensed individually out of a box like Kleenex. They were good for one wipe hence the trash container. They brought chopsticks with our meal. Go figure.

We were taken back to the hotel to rest until 3 P.M. They have siesta here after which it rains. The rain is hard and over quickly. Everything is washed clean but it creates mud that’s then carried onto the clean areas. It’s a tossup between being dusty or muddy. We ran into a traffic (bicycle) jam and Savon said the people prefer certain roads when it rains because other roads have too many snakes. I’ll continue stay with the crowds.

Temples Galore

After our rest we headed for, you guessed it, more temples. It’s such fun to climb in and out and discover that each one is really unique. We’re getting these gods down. I can even identify Apsara in her many guises. She’s the celestial dancer whose name appears on government trash containers at temple sites.

The concept of the temple complex is a little like Disney World. Tourists can get a 1, 3, or 7 day photo ID pass for a fee. We had a three day unlimited access pass costing $40/person. A difference between here and Disney is that here, as you walk along the forest paths to get to the temples, young children pop out to sell their wares. It’s like being in a video game. They’re adorable and try hard to bargain sometimes working against themselves. One little girl offered to sell me a flute for $1 but before I could answer she came down to 2 for $1. Of course, the children compete for our attention with the cows that are ever present at the temples (Cambodian Hindus and Buddhists do eat meat), the monkeys, and the cacophony of invisible green parrots. I never did spot one.

Why didn’t I guess these temples were built by slaves? Thai slaves were commonly used and our guide indignantly told us that now the Thai people teach that they created the temples. They did, after all, build them. Ta Prohm temple has thirty-six towers and is fighting a losing battle with nature. The forest has taken root in the buildings and trees growing hundreds of feet high wind in and around the structures literally embracing them. Damage is severe but the visual is incredible. The sponge tree is one of the worst offenders. It has a shallow root system and insinuates itself into any crack in the stones. In the battle with nature, man doesn’t prevail. Termites have also moved into the rooms and formed mounds. Where there were once jewel encrusted walls are now warrens of these insects. The jewels and many statues have been looted. The echo room was particularly fascinating. If you stand along the walls and beat your chest it reverberates in your body so you can hear and feel the impact. People who were sick used to go there to beat their chests until they felt better. I imagine if you did it long enough it could produce a trance.

We’ll rest before going to dinner and the folkloric show. David has some kind of stomach revenge. Don’t know if it’s from the malaria medication we’re taking or the beef he ate and I did not in Viet Nam. He’s had it for a while. If the lomotil doesn’t work soon, we’ll change to Imodium and he’ll start antibiotics. He’s very careful to drink a lot. Australia here we come just in time.

Toby

Of History and Heaven

August 27, 2001
Viet Nam Air
(photos:
Angkor Wat,
Stairway to Paradise)

This morning started with Ban taking us to the airport at 9 A.M. He

kept talking about the “liberation” at the end of the war. When asked

he said even the South Vietnamese call it that.

The new part of the airport is for international flights. From what I can

tell, the only new part is the façade. The routine in many overseas

airports is that you send the luggage you’re going to check through

x-ray then retrieve it. You schlep it to the check-in counter and get the

paperwork done. The next step is to pay the exit tax and go through

customs: not necessarily in that order. After finding out the exit tax was

now $12/person instead of $10, David counted out the appropriate

amount in dong and we squeaked by with 4,000 dong (35 cents) to

spare. Carry-on bags are x-rayed, passports are checked and you

move to a holding pen to await your flight. When the flight is called

your carry-on may be x-rayed again, your passport and/or boarding

pass checked, and you go to the gate to wait. There’s no such thing

as boarding children first. They make the announcement, but that’s

just a signal for everyone to mob the entrance to the gate. The plane

isn’t anywhere in sight, but there’s a bus. You drag your

carry-on bags onto the bus and are taken to the plane. Today

we had a surprise. We’d been flying airbuses, but this plane

was a two-engine I-don’t –know-what-brand. We wondered

if the pilot was the one Ban said dropped the last bombs on the

South. He’s now working for some airline. The take-off was kind of

a kick. We wobbled down the runway and the lift-off was like a

roller coaster ride. I wanted to look back down the runway for the

slingshot. The landing wasn’t much better.

Siem Reap

It's the rainy season and we flew low enough to see the Mekong

River in flood. The airport in Siem Reap was basic. Bags were

lifted onto a long conveyor made of rollers, no belt. Women

pushed luggage along by hand and later validated

baggage checks before they’d let you take your bag. We were

picked up in a vintage Toyota with right side steering. Some

cars have left hand drive but are driven on the right side of the road.

The road from the airport gave us a preview of things to come.

Some roads are paved but they’re bumpy and dusty. Our guide,

Savon, a woman, seems nice but is very hard to understand.

She told us that Siem Reap means “Siam Defeated.” Siem refers

to Siam during the time when the Khmer (Cambodian’s

original name) ran the Siamese out.

All meals are included at our hotel. Dessert was fruit. We were

unfamiliar with a “moonkot.” It looks like a purple plum with

very tough inedible skin. The inside is white, fleshy, citrusy

tasting segmented fruit much like an orange.

Prices are high for non-food items. A short elephant ride up a

mountain is $15 one way. We didn’t go. The Internet charge is

$5 per half hour. They tell you up front that the telecommunication

services are unreliable. If you get dumped, you pay anyway. If

you’re online for 31 minutes it costs $10. I really get the feeling

they’re taking advantage of tourists. Foreign investors are pouring

money into development but it seems to be for hotels and they're

anticipating a windfall. It’s the first time on the trip we feel singled

out in this way. In Viet Nam we knew we were paying more for

water on the street than a native, but when our guide bought

us a bottle we realized the difference was minor.

They don’t care what currency you use but prefer U.S. dollars.

They have no coins, so everything is $1 or more. There’s no

reason to change U.S. dollars into Riels. David went to a bank

to cash a Traveler’s Check and was shocked to get U.S.

money in return minus a fee.

The New Cambodia

The government is still shaky. Although King Sihanouk is in power,

it’s the prime minister and Parliament who are in charge. When

Sihanouk dies his sons aren’t eligible for the throne because their

mother isn’t royalty. Their cousins will inherit the throne. The prime

minister is very popular, but Sihanouk isn’t at all. They say

the world likes him; Cambodians don’t. They see him as a leader

who deserted his people and left them to the Khmer Rouge. The

country isn’t strong economically and doesn’t produce enough rice

to feed itself. The blame is being placed on an ancient

king who built temples instead of maintaining the irrigation system.

They’re not as security conscious as Viet Nam where passports

were taken when we checked into our hotel. then returned after the

police checked them against a list. Here we got our

passports right back.

Although it seems cleaner than Viet Nam, this is really in the sticks.

The jungle is just around the bend. The people are darker skinned

and use Sanskrit writing. India has been a major trader and settler

here and their influence is felt in culture and religion.

Their mythos is filled with tales of Ramayana, Apsarases, and Garudas.

My eyes just glaze over at the list of multi-syllabic deities and kings.

Angkor Wat

Angkor is the name of the city and Wat means temple. Between the

6^th and 15^th centuries Cambodia enjoyed a long period of power.

There was a burst of temple construction with Angkor Wat built in

the mid-12^th century. Three moats and four walls surround it. It

was originally a blend of Hindu and Buddhist, but, as kings

changed, it alternated sects. Each king also felt a need to move

the capital, so Angkor Wat fell into disuse. Buddhist monks moved

in and are the only reason so much of it is standing today.

The remains are as it appears on the Travel Channel: a massive

reddish sandstone tructure well beyond its prime. Carvings are

detailed and intricate. A marvelous bas-relief follows the entire

perimeter of the first level. The third level symbolizes

heaven. It’s reachable by mounting an amazing flight of steps

steeper and less defined than any Mayan temple I’ve climbed.

We managed the reach the top but thought we’d have to spend

eternity in their "heaven." When looking down from the top the

steps aren’t visible. It’s like a ladder. Fortunately we were able

to scoot down by clinging to a railing and skittering backwards.

The railing was put in after a Japanese tourist fell.

We’ve unpacked our still wet but clean laundry and it’s drying

nicely. David just informed me that the shower has no hot water,

but not to worry. The cold water isn’t very cold. Neither is the

air-conditioning. Sometimes you have to use a laptop

computer on your lap. Our hotel room has one plug and it’s not

at the desk. Although the hotel is pretty average, the food is good.

The hotel is clean and the lobby quite nice with a lovely curved

carved wood stairway. Those stairs are used a lot. Even

though there are three floors there’s no elevator.

Toby

Absorbing Torture, Fear, and Bigotry

August 26, 2001-Lost and Found

(photos:

Viet Cong charmer,

Dao Dai Temple)

Last night we went to dinner by taxi. It was obvious our driver didn’t know where we were going. He pulled over to call his dispatcher for directions and stopped people on the street. We’d given him a card with the name and address of the restaurant written in Vietnamese and the doorman at the hotel gave him directions in Vietnamese, but he and we were lost in Saigon. When we finally arrived after a rather interesting tour of some of the back streets of the city, he didn’t take anything off the meter. At home, we would have protested. Here, the overcharge was pennies and he’d have been penalized for being short at the end of his shift.

David declared me to be hooked on noodles in spite of attempts to try other dishes. We call it noodle envy. I succumbed last night and did have a fantastic noodle dish with beef, peanuts, scallions, and garlic (of course).

Eau d’Saigon

Just came back from my usual breakfast of miso soup, cereal, and fruit. It’s my attempt at helping world peace. If the food from different countries can get along in my stomach, maybe there’s hope for the governments. The rain has stopped, but the sun isn’t out yet. Hopefully, it will stay hidden. We do use sunscreen even when it’s overcast, but it’s a chore to keep slathering the sticky stuff on as we sweat it off.

This hotel is heavily Japanese. For the first time David said he felt out of place. He didn’t feel odd man out in Japan because our hotels had lots of Westerners. I just go along feeling I belong anywhere. I haven’t felt other or minority. Of course, I notice the size difference, but I’m so used to being treated as the entitled white, I unconsciously carry it with me. I wonder if I’ll feel that way in Africa?

At 7:30 A.M. we headed to the jungle, but first, we had to drop off our laundry. While David was in the shop watching the woman count our undies using tongs, I sat in the car. I saw a young boy come down some steps to an entryway. He was naked from the waist down. He placed a piece of plastic on the floor and (faint of stomach, stop reading here) defecated onto it. As he was squatting, an acquaintance came by to chat. Now that’s seeing how the locals really live.

Maybe the temperature will go down to 80. Yesterday it was 85 and I really didn’t sweat too much. I must be going native. I’ll really be a native when I stop noticing the smell outside. Pollution is one thing. In big cities my eyes are constantly bloodshot. But there’s an Asian smell to the air. I noticed it in China, Japan, here. Those of you who’ve traveled in Asia will remember it. It’s a combination of soy, bean curd, fish, yeast, and sewage. It must be in the water, because clothes laundered here smell of it too.

Another Long Drive

We had an hour and a half ride to the tunnels of Cu Chi. They’re 65km. (about 40 miles) from Saigon. Motorbikes were out in force along with ox carts, bike-pulled carts, bikes, pedestrians, dogs, cats, water buffalo, trucks, and lots of puddles. To make it more fun, the road was under construction and sewer lines were being laid. For this we paid a toll. After all, this was Highway #1. I’ll never complain about our toll roads again. The guide, Ban, mentioned that a Trans Asia Highway was being built. It would unite Myanmar, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Viet Nam. They better have peace now. They’ll be too well connected to have war.

Ban also told us that Viet Nam has lots of offshore oil, which they sell as crude. Now they’re building refineries. Don’t get the idea that Viet Nam’s on the way to being a petroleum power anytime soon. The infrastructure isn’t there.

I asked where the rich people lived and he said there are certain areas for them and there are ghettos for the poor like we have. He knew of Harlem and made a face when he said that’s where “Negroes” live. I told him that Bill Clinton has an office there because Bill Clinton grew up knowing lots of blacks and is very comfortable in Harlem.

I’d noticed baguettes and bread for sale along the road. I hadn’t seen bread when we'd visited China. He told us the French brought bread to Viet Nam. He really likes croissants. He also loves fruit cocktail that the U.S. soldiers had. Vietnamese would be given extras by the soldiers and re-sell it.

Tunnels

Ban explained that some tunnels were built during the French occupation but were extended to over 200 km in length during the Viet Nam War. They were built in three levels. The top level had conference rooms, storerooms for food and munitions, a medical area, and kitchens. There was an elaborate system of pipes and baffles to slowly release smoke from cooking. It looked like ground fog by the time it reached ground level. The other levels had booby traps, living quarters, wells, and escape routes to the Saigon River. All levels had air vents. The soil from the excavating was piled on top of land mines. When the mines exploded dirt was scattered and undetectable.

The allies tried many ways to locate and destroy the tunnels. They used dogs to sniff them out. At first the Viet Cong put pepper on top of the openings, but the dogs would sneeze and give the location away. Later, Viet Cong laid the clothing of American G.I.'’s on top of the openings so the dogs weren’t interested. Tunnel Rats (small G.I.'’s) were used to crawl into the openings, but the extreme narrowing of passages made it impossible even for our smallest G.I.'’s. We tried to flood the tunnels, but they’d all been built so water flowed downhill to the river. Chemicals weren’t too effective because doors were built at intervals and closed to contain the poison. We even dropped what they called American grass. It was an extremely fast growing grass the allies later burned with napalm. When the Viet Cong came out of the tunnels, their footprints were left in the chemicals from the napalm and the tunnels could be found.

Before going into the tunnels, we watched a propaganda video about a beautiful Viet Cong girl who was a peasant by day, but fought the South Vietnamese from the tunnels at night. It really brought home the G.I.'s inability to tell friend from foe. We then saw a display of land mines made from unexploded U.S. bombs and booby traps made from bamboo stakes. Our guide proudly showed us one diabolical trap called the fishhook. When it was stepped on, a spike was driven into the sole of the foot. As the soldiers tried to free their mate the Viet Cong shot at them. The efforts to free the victim were in vain, because there were spikes that were pointing down at an angle that would spear his leg as he tried to pull free. There were many variations on the theme. European tourists cavorted and posed for photos. Japanese climbed on the captured tank and posed with the booby traps. I was nauseous.

In Their Shoes

We tramped through the jungle that has re-grown over time walking on a slippery path in almost unbreathable humidity. We began to understand the terror of the young boys who marched in heavy uniforms, wearing boots, carrying a full pack, and toting a gun. Any step might be their last. Their nerves had to have been frayed beyond belief. Villagers who helped them during the day might spring out and kill them at any moment. It’s psychological torture that few are equipped to survive without lasting scars. It was a schizophrenic existence based on reality.

We descended into tunnels widened for Western tourists. It was then I realized I’d worn white shorts for the occasion. There was no way not to get red clay on us as we crawled, waddled, and hoisted ourselves through the maze. It was hot, dark, and dank. I never really knew what dank meant until now. I didn’t fare too badly. I got bitten by a couple of fire ants, but David had to buy a shirt after his crawl. His was unwearable.

When we surfaced, we got to eat cooked tapioca root dipped in peanuts and salt like the Viet Cong ate. The man who served it to us was the son of Viet Cong. Our guide was sure to proudly point that out.

As David was changing his shirt, Ban asked if I wanted to look at the war memorabilia in the gift shop. I told him that I was totally uninterested. I found the experience so upsetting I didn’t want to spend another penny there. I still think that the U.S. shouldn’t have been in Viet Nam and it was unwinable, but my heart goes out to those who went. As far as the Viet Cong tunnelers go, they were traitors, pure and simple. They betrayed the South and betrayed us. As a reward they got free houses built for them by the new government.

From War To Peace

As we got ready to go to our next stop, a temple, I mentioned that we were going from war to peace. Ban said we were going from war to tradition. It seems that war is a tradition.

We headed for Dao Dai. Of course it was an hour and a half away. This religion is unique to Viet Nam. It was formed in 1937, by a man wanting to unite Taoism, Confucianism, Buddhism, and Christianity. The church/temples celebrate four masses a day, every day. They once used mediums and have male and female priests. This sect has its own villages, like Vatican City, with a government and army of its own. At one time they had one million members. The present government isn’t too fond of them and banned the mediums who used Ouija boards to prophesy. We got to see a mass held in a huge cathedral-like building. There were spires, Asian roof lines, a mosque-like dome, and an altar. Followers wearing white, red, or blue robes sit on the floor chanting. A choir is accompanied by a small band. It’s quite hypnotic. What a unique experience! Our guide was flippant about the whole event, which I found offensive. It did lead him to ask a series of questions about Judaism and showed he had little knowledge of what we actually believe or how we worship. One point of interest was how the yarmulke stays on. David happened to have one in the backpack and demonstrated.

Wrapping It Up

At lunch we tasted a fruit called longen. It looks like a tiny golf ball sized green orange but has clear white fruit inside like lychee. A large black seed is visible through the fruit. The whole thing looks like an eyeball. It’s delicious.

As we hurtled back to town at 80-100 kph, I fell asleep. David says as far as being able to fall asleep anywhere this was my personal best. I ignored the honking, veering, and chaos of the ride. An hour and a half later we were in Saigon where all trees are numbered so their health can be monitored and they can be treated. A whimsical touch.

We got our laundry back and it’s not dry. I don’t think they have dryers and there was no sun today. The newly washed laundry smells of pollution. David’s now decking our room out in our wet “gotkes” (underwear).

The day was arduous, but never think that these experiences aren’t wonderful in the literal sense. Our minds are so full we can absorb only so much now. Retrospect is a good thing for tourists.

Tomorrow we go to Siem Reap, Cambodia home of the Khmer Rogue. It’s unbelievable. We’re heading right into the heart of the enemy’s lair. Communism idealized human nature and didn’t turn out to be the panacea it was in theory. People work harder when something’s in it for them. They haven’t gotten to the point of being able to want to work for the good of their neighbors. Capitalism is a selfish, self-serving system. We work for profit and to make our own lives better. The key in capitalism is teaching that it’s good to share our bounty with the less fortunate. It’s about teaching a person how to fish not just giving him the fish. I think David’s given that sermon.

Toby

Heading South

August 25, 2001-Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City

(photos:

Nail Salon at Bin Dan Market,

Entry to War Museum,

Post Office by Eiffel)

I didn’t know if I was up to more touring, being out in the heat, fighting off hawkers and beggars, and looking at once beautiful buildings covered in green and black mold. But at 7 A.M. Hai was there to take us to the airport and our flight to Saigon. He asked how we slept in the five-star hotel. We told him it was phenomenal. At each hotel, no matter how many stars, we’ve enjoyed watching the antics of cute lizards decorating the walls. Here was no exception. Hai said the best hotel is when you sleep outside. Then it’s a 1,000-star hotel. We took his personal and office email addresses. I’d certainly recommend him as a guide for anyone.

During our ride to the airport, we heard a humming sound coming from the trunk. It was the white noise machine we travel with. It has sounds of seals and buoys as well as white noise. It was in a suitcase and had gotten jiggled. We got the giggles and I tried to speak or cough whenever it made noise. It was almost like an episode from an I Love Lucy show. When the driver opened the trunk, it was really loud. We told him it was a radio and turned it off.

Saigon To Us

Officially Ho Chi Minh City, people still call it Saigon. Our guide, Ban, is the youngest son in his family. Since his two brothers were serving in the army during the Vietnamese War (he called it that) he was exempt and could stay home to care for his elderly parents. Even if there are daughters at home to care for parents and there’s only one son in the family that son is exempt. They need to assure that a male would carry on the family name and ancestor worship.

Ban’s cousin was in the re-education camp after the war for over three years. There was an agreement with the U.S. and Viet Cong that those who were interned for over three years were troublemakers and couldn’t be re-educated. They were allowed to go to the U.S. We considered them war heroes who helped us and Viet Nam considered them enemies of the state who couldn’t be re-trained or trusted. His cousin now lives in Peoria, Illinois. His brother, however, was released early for good behavior and is stuck in Viet Nam. Prisoners in the camp never knew the loophole. I asked if he thought the U.S. could have helped the South win if they’d stayed. He didn’t think so. The war was very unpopular in America and lots of people in South Viet Nam sympathized with the North and worked undercover. Ergo, the tunnels which we’ll see tomorrow. The U.S. pulled out of Laos, Cambodia, then Viet Nam. We ultimately turned to China as an economic ally. That was a bigger market for our goods and it’s the economy, stupid, right?

Hit The Ground Rolling

We’re staying in a five-star again. It’s the New World Hotel, a joint venture with Hong Kong. Last night’s hotel, the Furama, was German. The city buses in Saigon are Hyundai. Saigon has KFC and Baskin Robbins. No McDonald’s.

As we crossed chaotic streets, Ban lined us up parallel to him in a row. He was on the side of oncoming traffic to protect us. He made sure we stayed in step and didn’t fall behind. Our first stop was Chinatown. Thousands fled China during the turnover of the last dynasty. They freely mix with Vietnamese, are considered good businessmen, and have many stores. We’ve been in many wholesale markets around the world, but the one we saw today was unique. The stalls in the markets are privately run. They’re leased and the goods are on consignment. It’s a wonderful opportunity for people to get into business with very little money. There were huge quantities of anything needed to sustain life and comfort. One section looked like a Dollar Store.

As we came out of yet another temple, Ban asked us if we went to church. When we said we’re Jewish, he knew what we meant. He’s an evangelical Christian. We were so excited that he knew about Jews we sort of bonded like he was “mishpacha” (family.) He’s the only one in his family who converted, as did his wife. They have problems with their extended families. Their parents think they’ll be forgotten when they die since he won’t have a shrine to them in the house. The idea of “memory” is not enough for them.

He took us to a street restaurant where he eats. We had bowls of beef noodle soup for lunch (pho). We were leery, but the soup was boiling hot and the sprouts we added were pre-cooked. The beef looked like well done brisket. David put enough hot sauce in to kill anything. The broth was delicious. I said that each pot of soup starts with just water, but every soup tastes different. David thinks there’s a sermon in that. No, he hasn’t started on the high-holiday sermons. Is anyone surprised? We treated Ban to lunch and it totaled $3.50 with drinks. I think we’ve been overpaying.

Their Story

We stopped at the former American Embassy, now a consulate. Our flag was flying and we looked at the freshly painted walls where, in 1975, so many lives were shattered as the Americans pulled out. The building where the helicopters landed is gone now, but the barbed wire is not. We headed for the War Museum to see it from their perspective. The entryway displays captured U.S. tanks, a Huey helicopter, guns, etc. The inside is highly propagandized and accuses the U.S. of staging a war of racial extermination. They said we tested our new weaponry against the Vietnamese people whom we considered to be sub-human. For the first time in history war was waged on the living environment with Agent Orange. The exhibit starts with photos and quotes from President Eisenhower and Vice President Nixon in the 1950’s talking about the Domino Theory and protecting markets from the Communists. There were awful photos of atrocities we committed; My Lai, napalm, torture, deformed fetuses due to chemical warfare. It could have been a Holocaust exhibit. There were quotes by Westerners against the war and a copy of the McNamara book, In Retrospect, where he says the war was never winnable. They quoted almost everyone except Jane Fonda. The Australian navy was in port and touring the museum as well. They lost many people too. There was also a commemorative exhibit of the photojournalists from the West who died covering the war. All in all, it was very unsettling. My mind’s eye kept seeing the Viet Nam Memorial in Washington, D.C. that long black granite wall of names…. As we left the museum, we passed yet another banner in English declaring the slogan for the new Viet Nam, “Viet Nam, the Destination for the New Millennium.” Life goes on.

Our next stop was the main post office built by the French architect, Eiffel. It’s still in pristine condition. The usual services are offered and computers rule there too. But when you want to put a stamp on a letter you have to go to the counter and dip a brush into a blue and white Chinese glue pot to adhere the stamp. Stamps aren’t self-stick nor is there glue on the back. We found a bookstore that sold postcards, so we indulged. They’re always good if our camera fails.

I still do not know where all the garbage goes in Japan, but here it’s recycled. When we finished a bottle of sunscreen and went to toss it in a garbage can, a child snatched it from our hands. As we left the table at lunch today, another child confiscated our empty bottles of water. There is money in plastics. The Graduate was right.

Tomorrow we tour tunnels and yet another temple. We got out of seeing the Notre Dame of Saigon today. Blessedly, it was closed.

Toby