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