The past month has gone by very quickly, and while I have enjoyed Vietnam, I am
excited about heading back to Thailand with its spicy food and more developed
infrastructure.
The adventure in Vietnam began on New Year's Eve as Susan, Jason, and I landed
in Hanoi's international airport and were immediately accosted by hordes of
touts who wanted to bring us to their hotel. They were extremely aggressive and
soon we were shuttled us off into a 60's era Ford taxi and on the road to Hanoi.
The ride afforded us the first glimpses of rural Vietnam life as we rode through
the rice paddies while dodging the ever present potholes and the cyclists who
dominate the streets. The women in conical hats toiling in lush green rice
paddies with a backdrop of limestone mountains are images that were to be
repeated constantly throughout the trip, and are ones that I will forever
associate with Vietnam.
We had the taxi driver drop us off in the heart of Hanoi's old quarter, settled
into our hotel room, and then spent the rest of the afternoon getting
acclimatized and taking in some of the charm that Hanoi has to offer.
The streets of Hanoi are a sea of bicycles with a sprinkling of motorbikes and
the odd car thrown in. The lack of motorized traffic meant that the air was
quite clean to breathe, but the pure volume of the bicycles made getting across
the streets a bit of a challenge. After watching how the locals did it, we
discovered that the secret was to slowly walk out into the dense traffic which
would part around you at the last moment to avoid hitting you. If you stopped at
all, it would only confuse everyone as they would be swerving to where you stand
now anticipating that you would be getting out of the way.
The influence that the French left on Hanoi was quite apparent as the elderly
men in their berets would walk down the tree lined boulevards, strutting past
the pseudo-renaissance style buildings painted in orange, yellow, and blue
pastels with little white balconies on the second floor. The poor condition of
the buildings often just added to their character. On almost every street corner
there were women selling baguettes along with French "La Vache Qui Rit"
(laughing cow) cheese. While not exactly what what comes to mind when I think of
gourmet French cheeses, it hit the spot on those mornings when I couldn't face
noodle soup or banana pancakes for breakfast.
Hanoi's old quarter had more of a Vietnamese feel to it with small little shops
and markets everywhere. Each of its 36 streets had its own row of specialty
shops ranging from those selling leather, paper, or sweet potatoes to those
selling water pipes or hand-chiseled tombstones complete with an engraved
picture of the deceased.
The quiet and conservative streets of Hanoi were in sharp contrast to what we
were to experience for New Year's eve. We ended up at a trendy disco which was
packed with Vietnamese youths writhing to the latest dance hits and with paid
dancers in skimpy little outfits leading the way from the tops of the speakers.
The midnight celebrations did not seem that important to everyone, and simply
consisted of playing Abba's "Happy New Year" at 12:05 as everyone
popped the balloons that were hanging from the ceiling.
The highlight of the next few days was seeing the Ho Chi Minh museum, which took
a completely different approach from serious and scholarly chronicle that I
expected. Instead, his life history was portrayed through a series of images and
symbolism, many of which were hard to follow. The symbolism of the model of
Uncle Ho's poor rural farm shown next to the extravagant dwellings of the
members of the former ruling regime was obvious. However, as the timeline
progressed things became more obscure. There was a display of the caves Ho Chi
Minh had used to plan the resistance against the French "displayed in the
form of a human brain" (it looked like neither a cave nor a brain). Further
down was a room with a modified version of Picasso's Guernica (with no
description giving it any relevance to Ho Chi Minh). Next door was a room with a
picture of Marilyn Monroe and a large Edsel crashing through the wall. It was
supposed to portray an American commercial failure symbolizing its military
failure in Vietnam. There were many other bizarre images that had no apparent
relation to Ho Chi Minh or even Vietnam. We entertained ourselves by trying to
invent our own captions. For example, a room with the apex of a large engraved
pyramid piercing a chain symbolized "peasants from the four corners of
Vietnam uniting together to break free from the chains of the corrupt
imperialist powers that bound them".
The next cultural activity involved less propaganda as we enjoyed a Vietnamese
water puppet show. The performers stood waist deep in water hidden behind a
screen as they manipulated puppets which danced around on the water surface in
front of them. Dragons with fire crackers exploded, fishermen rowed about, and a
fox chased farmer's ducks up a tree, all to the beat of Chinese opera like
singing and drumming. It was amazing how they were able to manipulate the
puppets, although not speaking Vietnamese made it a little difficult to follow
the story lines.
The influence of communism in the country was not always very apparent. The most
obvious sign I saw was a line-up in the post office with the amusing caption
"Cultural Censorship". This Cultural Censorship seems to cover music
as Vietnam seems mostly untouched by the music of the past 25 years. They still
think that Bony M is pretty cool, and Abba blasts from stereos everywhere (even
in the Karaoke bars). The exception to this was in Saigon where you could pick
up any CD title for $2.00, or even computer titles like Microsoft Office '97 for
a mere $8.00.
Despite the the bitter feelings that are around due to the "American
War", I found it strange that tourists are expected to pay for many things
in US dollars. Prices are quoted in dollars, and if you try to pay in dong, you
get charged a lousy exchange rate with the rationale that the rate is what they
will end up paying to change the dong back into US dollars (their english fails
when you ask them why they need US dollars).
The Vietnamese are definitely experts at extracting money out of tourists, as
you end up paying about five times more for things like accommodations and
transportation that locals do (with the government making most of the profits).
It is also necessary to bargain for almost everything, and you are never sure if
you negotiated a good deal or not. Sometimes the vendor would pout after the
transaction, giving you the impression that you are robbing food out of his
needy mouth. However, two minutes later his enthusiastic solicitations for
further transactions with you indicate he was really not that unhappy with the
deal.
Other more obvious scams would happen when extra items would get added to the
bill. When you notice the mistake and motion to the waiter to come over, he
would grab the bill and correct the mistake without you having to give any
indication as to why you flagged him over.
While in Hanoi, we also participated in what would be the first of many
organized tours and mini-bus rides. As much as I dislike being shuttled around
with groups of other tourists, doing anything on your own in Vietnam involves
numerous headaches, much more time, and often a lot more money. In contrast, the
numerous tourist cafes that Vietnam had to offer packaged everything up so
easily that you almost didn't need to think. There were organized tours to every
sight you might want to visit, and the mini-buses would shuttle you from town to
town at much cheaper rates than if you took the train.
Our chosen tours out of Hanoi included a day trip to the Perfume Pagoda and a
three day trip to Halong Bay. The 60km bus ride to the Pagoda took almost 2 1/2
hours over very rough and bumpy roads, although the views of the water buffaloes
and rice paddies were enough of a diversion that it all went by very quickly. It
was amazing to see all the work being done by hand, including hand planting the
individual seedlings, and harvesting and threshing by hand. The only help the
farmers seemed to get in working the fields was the water buffaloes used to
drive the plows.
At the end of the bus ride, we were dropped off in a little village where the
next leg of the journey would start from. I felt really lazy as we sat back in a
small boat while a young woman rowed for an hour to get to the pagoda. During
the whole trip, there were spectacular limestone peaks rising on either side of
the river. In between the peaks, the ground was completely flat which made the
mountains seem that much more dramatic. On the banks of the river, kingfishers
hunted, storks waded, and the farmers were wading waist deep in the water
collecting snails and performing other tasks I couldn't identify.
After the boat ride, the Pagoda itself wasn't all that impressive. It was simply
a large cave with a resident monk and a huge statue of Buddha. We were
entertained along the walk by a group of youths who talked with us and tried to
sell us very expensive soft drinks that they were carrying around in a cooler.
They were very good at laying guilt trips on you for not buying anything, and
the boy assigned to me didn't fare so well given that I don't like soft drinks.
He didn't accept me not liking soft drinks as a reason for not buying - since I
didn't drink soft drinks he felt I should buy some for him.
We made it back from Halong Bay just in time to grab a quick bite, pick up some
groceries, and head to the train station for the first leg of the long haul down
to Saigon. The entire trip over the next few weeks included a 14 hour overnight
train ride, along with 36 hours on buses done in four stages.
The first stop-over was in Hue which is a former Vietnamese capital city just
south of the DMZ (demilitarized zone) that used to separate North from South
Vietnam. While I enjoyed seeing some of the ruins and tombs left behind by past
emperors of Vietnam, I couldn't face getting up for the DMZ tour which departed
at 6am. The Vietnamese all seem to be in bed by 9pm and up and about at 5am, and
they haven't learned yet that foreigners don't like getting up that early. I
think that I woke up early more times during my month in Vietnam than I did
during my years at Synopsys. It left me wondering whether the trip here was work
or a vacation.
The next town on the tour of Vietnam was Hoi An, which is a laid back port city
that seemed to have escaped much of the damage from the war. While there wasn't
a lot to see, it was a great place for hanging out and even sleeping in a
little. One interesting image from Hoi An that stands out in my mind is seeing a
hunched over old farmer with his straw hat slowly poling his way down the wide
river that flows through Hoi An. Behind him were around a thousand white ducks
in such tight formation that they looked like a large white teardrop on the
water, slowly changing form like a giant amoeba as the ducks paddled to keep up
with the farmer. It was amazing how well they were trained as they swam out to
an island where the farmer fed them grains.
It was from Hoi An where Jason and Susan headed north to return to Hanoi and
their flight to China, while I continued on south. The last couple of towns
before heading to Saigon were Nha Trang (Vietnam's beach and snorkeling area),
and then the largely uninteresting hill station of Dalat.
Saigon is a completely different world from its counterpart in the north. While
Hanoi is quiet, charming, and somewhat old fashioned, Saigon is vibrant and
teeming with life and doing its best to race into the modern era. Unfortunately,
this also meant that the traffic and pollution are worse, and the uninteresting
streets are lined with high rises, concrete buildings and corrugated tin rooves.
One other side-effect of Saigon's progressiveness was that the menus around
catered to the western palate. There was the choice of Indian, Italian, French,
pizzas, and even a recently opened KFC. This was a welcome change for those of
us who were getting tired of bland stir frys, noodle soups and greasy fried
noodles.
The main tourist attraction that I spent time visiting was the "American
War Crimes museum" (recently renamed to the War Remnants museum). It was
pretty gruesome with pictures of pieces of people, and jars with deformed babies
that died due to dioxin poisoning from Agent Orange. While the museum was very
good about pointing out the brutalities of war, it was extremely one-sided. Not
once did it mention that the war was a civil war and that there were Vietnamese
fighting on the American side. The casualties pointed out were always farmers,
and one is left with the impression that the US were invading and trying to
conquer Vietnam, wiping out civilian villages and slaughtering innocent
bystanders in the process.
There was an entire room devoted to demonstrations around the world protesting
the US involvement in the war, implying that the American government was the
only one supporting the war. There was a picture of American soldiers walking
through a field, and while the soldiers appeared to be walking rather casually,
the caption was something like "American soldiers running in terror from
the superior Viet Cong forces". Another picture showed a US soldier holding
a piece of a Vietnamese that was probably blown up by a mine or bombing. While
the soldier appeared rather appalled at the remains, the caption was something
like "American soldier laughing at the remains of the Vietnamese farmer he
mutilated".
Even during the section of the museum discussing the war against the French from
1946-1954, the French were portrayed as puppets of the US. The only information
in the museum was about fighter jets and technology the US provided to France.
This propaganda continues in the newspapers ... here is a quote from the
newspaper "Vietnam News - The National English Language daily" in an
article about the 25th anniversary of the signing of the Paris peace talks for
Vietnam which started on May 13, 1968 and ended on January 27, 1973:
"The Paris Conference was a bilateral negotiation initiated by the
Democratic Republic of Vietnam (DRVN) as a result of the Resistance forces'
great victories. As for the US, owing to its heavy defeats, it could not but
accept negotiation in order to find an honourable way out."
Despite the fact that I was reluctant to do any more tours, I didn't have that
much time left and booked myself on yet another two tours.
The first one was a day trip to a temple for the Cao Dai religion (a modern day
fusion of Buddhism, Taoism, Islam, and Christianity with some slight Hindu
influences). The temple was stunning, and we were there to watch their noon
service.
After the temple, we visited some tunnels that were widened versions of the
original VC tunnels used during the war. We were allowed to crawl through them,
and at times I had to almost get on my stomach to squeeze through. Definitely
not for the claustrophobic, and this was through tunnels 30% wider than the
originals. It was extremely hot inside, and you had to slither down stairs to
get to the various levels of the tunnels. I can't imagine how the people
actually spent as much time in the tunnels as they did, nor can I imagine how
American soldiers were willing to climb into the tunnels to chase the VC.
We were also shown a few of the booby traps laid by the VC, and the tour guide
would grin as he would set off the traps to show us how they operated, and then
point to all the places where the metal spikes would pierce the victims bodies.
Some of the traps were designed to simply cripple the victim so that snipers
would be able to move in and shoot the soldiers helping out their wounded buddy.
Between the thoughts of living in those tunnels and the thoughts of getting
caught in one of the booby traps, they did a really good job of convincing me
that war is hell!
After a day to take a break from tours, I signed up for my last tour ... a three
day trip into the Mekong Delta. The delta is Vietnam's most fertile area and
provides enough rice to feed all of Vietnam with a surplus. As usual, much of
the tour was spent on a bus, although when my butt wasn't too sore, the views of
rural Vietnamese life again kept me entertained. After all the rice paddies I
had seen in the north, I was really surprised to only see trees and buildings
along the sides of road. Where were the rice paddies? It wasn't until walking up
a mountain near the Cambodian border that I realized that the residents of the
densely populated delta preferred to live near the roads and formed a
residential strip along their entire length. From our viewpoint above it all, I
found out that the missing rice paddies were everywhere that roads weren't.
The other thing that was interesting from the view was how obvious the Cambodian
border was. Off in the distance, the greens of the rice paddies gave way to
brown grasslands across the border. While our guide chastised the Cambodians as
being lazy and not working their fields, I suspect the more accurate reason for
the lack of farming is the six million land mines planted along the border that
our guide also told us about (1 in 87 Cambodians is an amputee from a land mine
accident).
As we drove back from the mountain, our guide pointed out a dozen people on
bicycles that had stacks of cartons of cigarettes stashed under their shirts,
freshly smuggled from the Cambodian border. He pointed out how they were about
to hide as there was a policeman ahead, and right on queue they all turned into
a narrow little alleyway and disappeared. Its hard to imagine how much money
they make when it is possible to buy Vietnamese cigarettes for ten cents a pack!
For dinner, we were taken to a restaurant that served snake. I decided to try it
out, and contrary to popular opinion, this particular snake did not taste like
chicken. It kind of tasted more like squid. Feeling brave after having sampled
the snake, I also indulged in a shot of snake wine. Snake wine is made by
putting a full snake in a bottle and then filling it with a sweet whisky and
letting it sit (kind of like the worm in the bottom of a tequila bottle, but you
don't eat the snake). It looks rather repulsive, but didn't taste too bad. It is
supposed to have medicinal properties as well as being an aphrodisiac - a fact
that the waitresses had great fun teasing me about.
The next day, I decided to try more of the local specialties when I had a frog
curry for lunch. Unlike the snake, the frog did indeed taste like chicken, but
with more bones. To cleanse my palate afterwards, I chewed on some fresh
betelnut which made my mouth throb and my head feel a little dizzy. My need to
try the local cuisine is now satisfied, and I will be quite happy to return to
my vegetarian diet.
After having sampled the various meats, we were then taken to the markets where
you could pick out a variety of snakes (including cobras), mongooses, turtles,
lizards, or many other interesting creatures to take home and prepare for
dinner.
Our guide was a former soldier for the south Vietnamese army, and it was
interesting talking to him about it. He is proud to have fought the communists,
even though he paid for his sins by spending five years in appalling conditions
in jail. He has tried to escape Vietnam by boat on five different occasions, and
dreams of making it to America some day. He is a little bitter that America
welcomes high ranking Communist officials to defect (the "enemy"),
while it won't allow former comrades in the country.
As we headed back to Saigon, we made one final pit stop at a roadside cafe.
There, I was allowed to have my picture taken with a 15 foot, 120 pound python
around my neck. I have never seen such a massive snake in real life before, and
I had trouble lifting it!
Back in Saigon, I spent a final day shopping and fending off the salesmen who
would follow you everywhere. I found it interesting how in each town I visited,
there was a different item for sale. In Saigon, everyone sold lighters. In Hoi
An, it was newspapers. Hanoi was filled with people trying to shine your shoes.
Right now, I am back in Bangkok and I'm loving it. When I first made it to Asia,
I always thought it was strange how westerners would visit and eat lousy western
food instead of the delicious and cheap local cuisine. Well, after three months
in Asia, western delicacies were too much for me to pass up. Yesterday I had
lasagna for lunch with tiramisu and espresso for dessert, and I have enjoyed
snacking on Haagen Daz and M&Ms. I even found a place with fresh baked brown
bread that they make into awesome french toast.
After spending a few days here running around and taking care of errands, I am
now ready to get on an overnight train to Laos. I will be spending three weeks
in Laos, flying off to Cambodia where I will meet up with Zen for a week, and
then I will be off to Delhi, India. In India, I am looking forward to seeing
more of Rajisthan which I sampled briefly during my first visit to India two
years ago.
The usual caveats apply in that I don't expect to have email access for much of
the time, and it may be the end of February or later before my next access. Even
after February, contact will continue to be quite intermittent. However, please
continue sending messages as I really enjoy reading them when I do manage to
connect.
