A month before we left, Canada and the US warned its citizens to postpone trips to India indefinitely due to their ongoing and escalating problems with Pakistan. We were warned against travelling in Nepal because of bloody attacks by Maoist rebels in the countryside. Heavily-touristed Thailand is an easy target for terrorist attacks, especially around the beach resorts and a red flag has been raised on travel there. We were warned against going to Laos, Vietnam, and Cambodia because “extremist groups present in Southeast Asia have transnational capabilities to carry out attacks against locations where Westerners congregate.” It was announced sometime last week that a travel alert has been issued for Australia because it is seen as a target for terrorism.
So I can’t say that we were that surprised when the Canadian and Australian embassies closed in Manila yesterday due to “credible” bomb threats. Furthermore, we have been warned that “Canadians should not travel to the Philippines until further notice. Threats against Canadians and Canadian interests in the Philippines have heightened and there has been an upsurge in bombings.”
It’s easy to feel vulnerable when you are an obvious foreigner so I’ve become a little wary of being in public. Moreover, if you’re like me and have an active imagination, then things like going to the mall or eating dinner out involve imagined bomb attacks. Last night I registered with the consulate here in order not to be left out of an evacuation plan.
I am definitely suffering from an ounce of “Mean World Syndrome”. It’s a cultural phenomenon whereby people subjected to a heavy dose of media adopt the overly-violent television world in place of the real world and misjudge the amount of violence in society. I would argue that in today’s world, a “heavy dose” of television is not even necessary. With CNN and BBC almost constantly talking about terrorism, it’s difficult to remember that these incidents are few and far between, however devastating. I know that life goes on pretty much as normal here despite the threats and deep down I know that there is only a very slight chance that anything remotely terrorist will happen, and an even lower chance that it will affect me personally. I’ll just knock on wood anyway though.
We’re here and we plan on spending the holidays here. So we’ll just lay low and continue to do what we have been doing; swimming laps, eating mangoes, reading books, and watching bootlegged DVDs that we buy for a hundred pesos a pop.
tothesea,
k~*
Friday, November 29, 2002
Sunday, November 17, 2002
is that a bomb component in your pocketbook or are you just happy to see me?
Magi and I had pancakes for breakfast and we made them ourselves! This news might not be that exciting to most people but for us it is. The joy of reaching into a fridge or a cupboard and then making something to eat is a luxury wasted on the non-travellers of the world. Sure to some eating out is the most fun; you don't have to cook or clean up. But when you have gone for months hunting down your next meal it's a relief to be able to cook what you want, when you want it and to not have to explain to a trying-to-be-helpful waiter that vegetarians don't eat squid or shrimp.
We've been here for a week now and are so travel-weary that we haven't really left the neighbourhood. Keep in mind that we have been sans maison since May and that the perfect guesthouse we've been looking for has materialized as Magi's parents' condo. Plus it's hard to get inspired to go out when the heat and humidity is so super-oppressive and adjusting to the heat is made more difficult by the sub-zero temperatures you always encounter when entering any indoor space.
It's my first Christmas without cold weather (I am not counting A/C as cold weather) and it's a little surreal to walk around and have speakers popping out of manicured shopping mall gardens like sprinklers singing Jingle Bells and These Three Kings. This being a devoutly Catholic country, Christmas is like, well, Christmas around here. I was concerned, up until yesterday, that I was missing out on Filipino culture because we are completely surrounded by malls and lured by their cool temperatures whenever we walk outside. Magi told me that this obsession with shopping and eating out IS Filipino culture (albeit modern) and I'm really beginning to believe her. Though I am unsure as to whether the hoards of shoppers are merely there to stock up on gifts for under the tree, I feel like it's much more controlled and ordinary than that. People aren't shopping with the unique enthusiasm of finding the right shirt or soap on a rope for grandpa, they are shopping with an everyday enthusiasm of finding a good deal. The crowds or women holding up tanktops and underwear at the bargain bins are calm about it, like they are just there to see if anything has been added since their previous visit the last week or a few days ago.
My favourite part of the mall (a phrase I didn't think I'd ever use) is the product demonstrations. Sometimes it's for a vacuum packing machine that makes those ever-annoying bags of stuffed animals shrink down to half their size or the super cloths that soak up all the water in your bathtub and still have room for more. The announcers up on their pedestals never fail to interrupt themselves to greet the people walking by with "Hello ma'am" or "Hello sir". Their promo speeches, like most conversation in the Philippines, is spoken in Taglish- a mix between English and the national language of Tagalog. So to me, it sounds something like this, “blah blah blah very absorbent blah blah blah today only blah blah blah plastic handle blah blah.” It’s a little thing but it makes me giggle whenever I hear it, not just in the malls.
My least favourite part of shopping here are the constant reminders of terrorism. In every mall entrance and in most store entrances within the mall, you get into the female or male line and proceed through the guard who swipes you and your bag with a sensor or pokes a stick into your bag to look for bomb components (or both). Their table has a print out of common bomb parts to make identifying them easy for the guard. Even restaurants ask their patrons to keep their weapons at the door with security personnel (is this Texas?) This kind of security might make some people feel safer but for me it just reminds me of the potential threat of terrorism and makes me wish the guard would take a extra second or two looking in bags since it most often feels like just a formality and not a real search.
Let me just say that we are not in an unsafe neighbourhood. There are practically no tourists in this area and we are far away from the violent separatists in the south. Nevertheless this constant reminder of a threat looms and living in NYC has probably made us a little more sensitive to these things.
One final note before I head off into the heat of this mid-morning Monday. I am taken aback by the level of hospitality Filipinos have shown towards us. I found most people in Thailand to be very cheerful also (at least those that weren't totally jaded by tourism) but theirs was a quieter and more gentle friendliness. Everyone here is very friendly in an outgoing way. People in stores and restaurants are sincerely eager to make you happy and even guards greet you with a smile and “welcome”. Based in no way on scientific measures, I would say that in my experience, this is the friendliest country I have been to in Asia.
tothesea,
k~*
We've been here for a week now and are so travel-weary that we haven't really left the neighbourhood. Keep in mind that we have been sans maison since May and that the perfect guesthouse we've been looking for has materialized as Magi's parents' condo. Plus it's hard to get inspired to go out when the heat and humidity is so super-oppressive and adjusting to the heat is made more difficult by the sub-zero temperatures you always encounter when entering any indoor space.
It's my first Christmas without cold weather (I am not counting A/C as cold weather) and it's a little surreal to walk around and have speakers popping out of manicured shopping mall gardens like sprinklers singing Jingle Bells and These Three Kings. This being a devoutly Catholic country, Christmas is like, well, Christmas around here. I was concerned, up until yesterday, that I was missing out on Filipino culture because we are completely surrounded by malls and lured by their cool temperatures whenever we walk outside. Magi told me that this obsession with shopping and eating out IS Filipino culture (albeit modern) and I'm really beginning to believe her. Though I am unsure as to whether the hoards of shoppers are merely there to stock up on gifts for under the tree, I feel like it's much more controlled and ordinary than that. People aren't shopping with the unique enthusiasm of finding the right shirt or soap on a rope for grandpa, they are shopping with an everyday enthusiasm of finding a good deal. The crowds or women holding up tanktops and underwear at the bargain bins are calm about it, like they are just there to see if anything has been added since their previous visit the last week or a few days ago.
My favourite part of the mall (a phrase I didn't think I'd ever use) is the product demonstrations. Sometimes it's for a vacuum packing machine that makes those ever-annoying bags of stuffed animals shrink down to half their size or the super cloths that soak up all the water in your bathtub and still have room for more. The announcers up on their pedestals never fail to interrupt themselves to greet the people walking by with "Hello ma'am" or "Hello sir". Their promo speeches, like most conversation in the Philippines, is spoken in Taglish- a mix between English and the national language of Tagalog. So to me, it sounds something like this, “blah blah blah very absorbent blah blah blah today only blah blah blah plastic handle blah blah.” It’s a little thing but it makes me giggle whenever I hear it, not just in the malls.
My least favourite part of shopping here are the constant reminders of terrorism. In every mall entrance and in most store entrances within the mall, you get into the female or male line and proceed through the guard who swipes you and your bag with a sensor or pokes a stick into your bag to look for bomb components (or both). Their table has a print out of common bomb parts to make identifying them easy for the guard. Even restaurants ask their patrons to keep their weapons at the door with security personnel (is this Texas?) This kind of security might make some people feel safer but for me it just reminds me of the potential threat of terrorism and makes me wish the guard would take a extra second or two looking in bags since it most often feels like just a formality and not a real search.
Let me just say that we are not in an unsafe neighbourhood. There are practically no tourists in this area and we are far away from the violent separatists in the south. Nevertheless this constant reminder of a threat looms and living in NYC has probably made us a little more sensitive to these things.
One final note before I head off into the heat of this mid-morning Monday. I am taken aback by the level of hospitality Filipinos have shown towards us. I found most people in Thailand to be very cheerful also (at least those that weren't totally jaded by tourism) but theirs was a quieter and more gentle friendliness. Everyone here is very friendly in an outgoing way. People in stores and restaurants are sincerely eager to make you happy and even guards greet you with a smile and “welcome”. Based in no way on scientific measures, I would say that in my experience, this is the friendliest country I have been to in Asia.
tothesea,
k~*
Sunday, November 10, 2002
manila folder
It's difficult to focus on a post under these circumstances. Gun shots, men shouting "Go, Go, Go" and sounds of people falling to their death are all around me. But this is no battlefield in Vietnam in the 60's or field around Phnom Penh in the 70's.. this is an internet cafe in a large Manila shopping mall in the year 2002. Young men around me, presumably here together, are yelling and laughing to one another over the loud barrage of gunshots. They are playing Max Payne, a brutal and bloody shoot-em-up game that I have come to know from my brothers who eat this kind of stuff up. Personally, the game gives me motion sickness and other kinds of sicknesses that I won't go into here.
There is only one other girl in the room and she is on the internet like me. She has headphones on and is singing some Top 40 hit at the top of her lungs. I also have headphones on in a futile attempt to block the noise but I have landed on an online classical music station and it's really hard to sing along with Bach.
We arrived here in Manila yesterday. We had a one day layover in Bangkok which we whiled away at the weekend "Chatuchak" market. We had made one previous visit with Aaron months ago but reserved all our buying for Saturday since we knew we would have that day in Bangkok and a better grasp at how fast the travel funds are dwindling. Our shopping limit was US$200 and although we tried, we didn't go anywhere near spending that amount. It wasn't at all difficult to find things to buy and we
stocked up on some beautifully crafted ceramic bowls and chopsticks sets along with other housewares and gifts for you back home... but it's really difficult to spend a large amount of money when you're bargaining for everything with the help of Magi's mom (who won't take "that's my final price" for an answer) and getting great deals left and right! It was a blast, especially knowing that we would only have to carry the purchases as far as Manila from where Magi's parents will bring them back to the US.
I have never been to L.A. but Manila is what I would imagine it to look like (complete with the thick layer of smog that you can see in the distance). After we settled in Magi's parents condo and they arrived a few hours later on a different flight, they took us for a walk around the neighbourhood. This area, Makati City, is full of new, very nice restaurants with trendy names and stores for the ultra-chic consumer. I could hardly believe my eyes, I felt like I had been transported to somewhere other than the Asia I have come to know and love. We had a delicious meal at an Italian restaurant where our waiter continued to fill the plate in the middle of the table with warm, fresh rosemary foccacia (complete with balsamic vinegar and olive oil I might add).
Magi's parents are in the process of moving to another condo so we're helping them move their things down the street today. Tonight Magi and I will stay in the new place while her parents remain in the current condo. We have two weeks to explore this 7,100 island nation but I'm sure we'll be back many, many times for more.
I wish I had a poppy to wear for Remembrance Day... but the day is on my mind nevertheless.
tothesea,
k~*
There is only one other girl in the room and she is on the internet like me. She has headphones on and is singing some Top 40 hit at the top of her lungs. I also have headphones on in a futile attempt to block the noise but I have landed on an online classical music station and it's really hard to sing along with Bach.
We arrived here in Manila yesterday. We had a one day layover in Bangkok which we whiled away at the weekend "Chatuchak" market. We had made one previous visit with Aaron months ago but reserved all our buying for Saturday since we knew we would have that day in Bangkok and a better grasp at how fast the travel funds are dwindling. Our shopping limit was US$200 and although we tried, we didn't go anywhere near spending that amount. It wasn't at all difficult to find things to buy and we
stocked up on some beautifully crafted ceramic bowls and chopsticks sets along with other housewares and gifts for you back home... but it's really difficult to spend a large amount of money when you're bargaining for everything with the help of Magi's mom (who won't take "that's my final price" for an answer) and getting great deals left and right! It was a blast, especially knowing that we would only have to carry the purchases as far as Manila from where Magi's parents will bring them back to the US.
I have never been to L.A. but Manila is what I would imagine it to look like (complete with the thick layer of smog that you can see in the distance). After we settled in Magi's parents condo and they arrived a few hours later on a different flight, they took us for a walk around the neighbourhood. This area, Makati City, is full of new, very nice restaurants with trendy names and stores for the ultra-chic consumer. I could hardly believe my eyes, I felt like I had been transported to somewhere other than the Asia I have come to know and love. We had a delicious meal at an Italian restaurant where our waiter continued to fill the plate in the middle of the table with warm, fresh rosemary foccacia (complete with balsamic vinegar and olive oil I might add).
Magi's parents are in the process of moving to another condo so we're helping them move their things down the street today. Tonight Magi and I will stay in the new place while her parents remain in the current condo. We have two weeks to explore this 7,100 island nation but I'm sure we'll be back many, many times for more.
I wish I had a poppy to wear for Remembrance Day... but the day is on my mind nevertheless.
tothesea,
k~*
Thursday, November 07, 2002
a few days in Cambodia
We've spent a few days in Seam Riep, Cambodia, which is not enough time to get a real grasp of what the country is like but enough to get a feeling for it. Our time here has been centred around seeing Angkor Wat which some of you may know as the ancient Hindu ruins of Cambodia and others of you may know it as the shooting location for Tomb Raider. As far as piles of rocks go, they are pretty incredible and being highly dedicated to no sleep at times, we were witness to both the sunrise and the sunset at ruins yesterday. Our favorite temple was overgrown with ancient mile-high trees and it made you feel as though you were discovering something for the first time (minus the tour buses and foot paths).
However, I tend towards modern history when it comes to where my interests lie, and Cambodia does not disappoint. The legacy of the Vietnam war in Cambodia and the subsequent terror of the Pol Pot regime in the 1970's are the kind of things history book authors lust after and that make humanitarians ache.
For those of you who don't know, the Khmer Rouge and their leader Pol Pot took control of Phnom Penh (the capital) two weeks before the Vietnamese Communists took Saigon. They quickly instituted their leader's harsh idealism of reverting the country back to a agrarian utopia. People were pushed from the cities into the countryside to work on farms and everyone considered an intellectual (ie. those who wore glasses or spoke a foreign language) was jailed and most were later brutally murdered and put into the mass graves now known as the Killing Fields.
The so-called Killing Fields are near Phnom Penh (about five hours away) but there is a small memorial set up outside Siem Reap and we went to visit it yesterday. It is situated in a Buddhist temple complex and consists of a medium sized stupa whose middle has been hollowed and left with tall windows. In the windows you can see a waist-high pile of skulls, bones, and clothing fragments that were retreived from the killing fields and brought to Siem Reap as a reminder of the atrocity. A nearby sign pleads for a donation asking you, the tourist, to help them build a proper monument memorializing the atrocity that the world stood by and did nothing about.
It was a little surreal to step out of the car at the monument and be surrounded by a hoard of small school children peddling postcards and bamboo flutes, these poor children are the legacy of Pol Pot's regime. We were uncertain as to whether they understood what the monument stood for but certainly it will be clear to them one day.
Not surprisingly, the great majority of people here are young. The same was true for Vietnam but you couldn't say in all honesty that to see an older person was rare. Here I think you can say that. Another legacy of this countries modern history is that Cambodia still suffers 100-300 injuries from landmines every month. They are literally everywhere and so are the injured. I think the statistic is something like one in 236 people in this county have lost a limb due to landmines, most of whom are children who mistake the mines for toys (and in some cases, stuffed animals or dolls were placed on top of the mines so that children would grab them and be hurt).
It's not an easy country to be in. But there are faint glimmers of hope that make you feel that Cambodia's future will be brighter. I'm off to look for some of those now.
tothesea,
k~*
However, I tend towards modern history when it comes to where my interests lie, and Cambodia does not disappoint. The legacy of the Vietnam war in Cambodia and the subsequent terror of the Pol Pot regime in the 1970's are the kind of things history book authors lust after and that make humanitarians ache.
For those of you who don't know, the Khmer Rouge and their leader Pol Pot took control of Phnom Penh (the capital) two weeks before the Vietnamese Communists took Saigon. They quickly instituted their leader's harsh idealism of reverting the country back to a agrarian utopia. People were pushed from the cities into the countryside to work on farms and everyone considered an intellectual (ie. those who wore glasses or spoke a foreign language) was jailed and most were later brutally murdered and put into the mass graves now known as the Killing Fields.
The so-called Killing Fields are near Phnom Penh (about five hours away) but there is a small memorial set up outside Siem Reap and we went to visit it yesterday. It is situated in a Buddhist temple complex and consists of a medium sized stupa whose middle has been hollowed and left with tall windows. In the windows you can see a waist-high pile of skulls, bones, and clothing fragments that were retreived from the killing fields and brought to Siem Reap as a reminder of the atrocity. A nearby sign pleads for a donation asking you, the tourist, to help them build a proper monument memorializing the atrocity that the world stood by and did nothing about.
It was a little surreal to step out of the car at the monument and be surrounded by a hoard of small school children peddling postcards and bamboo flutes, these poor children are the legacy of Pol Pot's regime. We were uncertain as to whether they understood what the monument stood for but certainly it will be clear to them one day.
Not surprisingly, the great majority of people here are young. The same was true for Vietnam but you couldn't say in all honesty that to see an older person was rare. Here I think you can say that. Another legacy of this countries modern history is that Cambodia still suffers 100-300 injuries from landmines every month. They are literally everywhere and so are the injured. I think the statistic is something like one in 236 people in this county have lost a limb due to landmines, most of whom are children who mistake the mines for toys (and in some cases, stuffed animals or dolls were placed on top of the mines so that children would grab them and be hurt).
It's not an easy country to be in. But there are faint glimmers of hope that make you feel that Cambodia's future will be brighter. I'm off to look for some of those now.
tothesea,
k~*
Tuesday, November 05, 2002
saigon kick
“Like a bunch of evil devils, the American enemies killed women and children….”
So began our tour of the Cu Chi Tunnels. We were seated in a small outside auditorium where we watched a very old and rudimentary black and white documentary on the significance of the people in the Cu Chi area before, during, and after the war. The quote from above is directly from the film, I couldn’t make this stuff up. Using a lot of this very strong language the film detailed the “heroic struggles of the peaceful villagers” as they took up arms and went underground to fight the US.
The Cu Chi tunnels are a 250 km network of underground tunnels used by the Viet Cong during the war. The clear highlight of our group tour to the tunnels this morning was having the opportunity to crawl in the tunnels for about 50 metres. I went first of the tourists but second behind the tunnel guide who quickly squatted down and shuffeled his way through the narrow passages. He did take the time to stop before turning another corner to signify to me the direction he was going. I must have looked ridiculous behind him, slowly crawling on my hands and knees. When I first entered the tunnels I was intrigued but soon I felt a great sense of claustrophobia when one turn turned into another passage into another turn and again and again. It was probably the longest fifty metres of my life. The tunnels are hot, dark, filthy and, depending on your size, practicually hug you while you are in the crawling position (as is evidenced by the number of dirty backs you saw when you climbed out of the tunnel and looked at your fellow tourists). I can hardly imagine spending ten minutes down there, let alone ten years. It gave me a new appreciation for the brillance and cunning of the Viet Cong and the absolute determination they had in winning the war. A more grisly part of the tour was the showcase of booby traps fixed with spikes that were used. It seems they had one made for the intent of harming each part of the body and some were given names such as the “hamburger trap” and the “souvenir trap” (the latter one because you had to have it surgically removed, I won’t detail why). Lunch consisted of tapioca cane with sugar to dip it in and tea and is a meal the guide says the Viet Cong lived on for ten years.
Though the tour reeked of propoganda it was no surprise to us because it seems most of the museums, art galleries, and monuments In Vietnam are designed to demonstrate what champions of war the Vietnamese Communists are. Of course, it is true that they fought and defeated the French in the first Indochinese war and the Americans in the second and that both of these feats are quite amazing. However, the horror shown is so biased and they never mention the pain that they themselves inflicted on their own people and the people of the Southern armies. But then again, why would they?
Considering the hard feelings that the government still seems to hold against the U.S., I think it’s ironic that the American dollar is just as common a currency in Vietnam as the dong. Prices are most often given in both and the choice is yours to spend as you wish. You could travel all you want in Vietnam and never lay hands on the Vietnamese currency. It has nothing to do with the war, the US dollar is simply more stable… but still it seems strange. Something that I can’t figure out is how a free market society works under a Communist regime.. can anyone explain this to me?
So let me take you back a few days. Prior to our stop in Saigon, we spent some time in the central part of the country and specifically in Hue and Danang. Because Danang was the initial landing spot for both the French and the Americans (remember the show China Beach?), it was completely devastated by the effects of war. What’s left is a charmless city of deteriorating concrete building and crumbling sidewalks with a generation of people missing (2/3 of Vietnam’s people are under 25 so the latter part is very much the case all over the country). People don’t smile much, at least at foreigners (who can blame them?) and the overall feeling of the rainy region is depressing. Hue is an ancient city, once the centre of life during the Nguyen Dynasty. The old town has an expansive Imperial City that was designed after the Forbidden City in Beijing. Of course, this too was heavily showered with bombs during the wars and what’s left now is a walled-in section of crumbling ruins. On the outskirts of town there are several tombs from the Nguyen Dynasty and we went to visit a few of them on a particularly rainy day. When you walk in and around the huge tomb complexes you feel temporarily as though you have stepped back into another time… but then you round the corner and see yet another crummy showcase of dusty trinkets and warm Coca-Cola for sale and all you can do is sigh. The central area of the country is altogether in ruins, understandably, and it provides you with a tremendous contrast and perhaps a greater appreciation of the wonderful cities of Hanoi and Saigon.
One word on Saigon. When the war ended in April of 1975 and the Communists gained control of Saigon, they changed the name of the city to Ho Chi Minh City after their communist hero and comrade. “Uncle Ho” (as he is often sentimentally referred as) is a story in and of himself so I won’t go into him much only so say that his name was self-bestowed and means “He Who Enlightens”. Saigon or Sai Gon (in Vietnamese language each syllable is a new word) is still what the city is commonally referred to as, at least in the south. In the north they proudly call it by its full name or HCMC. There seems to be a distinct rivalry between the north and the south that you pick up on when you talk to people about the most mundane things, such as weather. In Hanoi (or Ha Noi) I was asked by a woman working at our hotel if I was going to HCMC and when I answered yes, she said with negativity, “Oh, it is very, very hot there.” I replied with “We have had very nice and cool weather in Hanoi” and she smiled, looked at me and said, “Thank you.”
I feel the same way here as I did when I was in Berlin. I have this overwhelming awe about the place. Finally travelling in a place that I have only read about and seen in (countless) movies gives me tremendous satisfaction because I have a sense now of the real Vietnam and how it has survived (and not) in the aftermath of such a triumphant and tragic history.
Sigh.
tothesea,
k~* (I shall remove Magi's initial from posts from now on because it's silly to write "I" and "me" in the post and then have it be signed by us both.. it's no secret that I'm the author of these posts since Magi is overcome with shyness when it comes to these things. But have it be known that though she refuses to write any posts she does edit them all and claims that they also reflect her thoughts of her time here... at least most of the time.)
p.s. Does anyone remember the band Saigon Kick from the 80's? What was with Hanoi Rocks and Saigon Kick? Were they rival bands or something? Were either of them not American? Oh, strange decade. (It must be pretty evident that I have been waiting this whole trip to use these band names as post titles.. have it be known that they are the only reason I came to either of these cities. HeeHee.)
So began our tour of the Cu Chi Tunnels. We were seated in a small outside auditorium where we watched a very old and rudimentary black and white documentary on the significance of the people in the Cu Chi area before, during, and after the war. The quote from above is directly from the film, I couldn’t make this stuff up. Using a lot of this very strong language the film detailed the “heroic struggles of the peaceful villagers” as they took up arms and went underground to fight the US.
The Cu Chi tunnels are a 250 km network of underground tunnels used by the Viet Cong during the war. The clear highlight of our group tour to the tunnels this morning was having the opportunity to crawl in the tunnels for about 50 metres. I went first of the tourists but second behind the tunnel guide who quickly squatted down and shuffeled his way through the narrow passages. He did take the time to stop before turning another corner to signify to me the direction he was going. I must have looked ridiculous behind him, slowly crawling on my hands and knees. When I first entered the tunnels I was intrigued but soon I felt a great sense of claustrophobia when one turn turned into another passage into another turn and again and again. It was probably the longest fifty metres of my life. The tunnels are hot, dark, filthy and, depending on your size, practicually hug you while you are in the crawling position (as is evidenced by the number of dirty backs you saw when you climbed out of the tunnel and looked at your fellow tourists). I can hardly imagine spending ten minutes down there, let alone ten years. It gave me a new appreciation for the brillance and cunning of the Viet Cong and the absolute determination they had in winning the war. A more grisly part of the tour was the showcase of booby traps fixed with spikes that were used. It seems they had one made for the intent of harming each part of the body and some were given names such as the “hamburger trap” and the “souvenir trap” (the latter one because you had to have it surgically removed, I won’t detail why). Lunch consisted of tapioca cane with sugar to dip it in and tea and is a meal the guide says the Viet Cong lived on for ten years.
Though the tour reeked of propoganda it was no surprise to us because it seems most of the museums, art galleries, and monuments In Vietnam are designed to demonstrate what champions of war the Vietnamese Communists are. Of course, it is true that they fought and defeated the French in the first Indochinese war and the Americans in the second and that both of these feats are quite amazing. However, the horror shown is so biased and they never mention the pain that they themselves inflicted on their own people and the people of the Southern armies. But then again, why would they?
Considering the hard feelings that the government still seems to hold against the U.S., I think it’s ironic that the American dollar is just as common a currency in Vietnam as the dong. Prices are most often given in both and the choice is yours to spend as you wish. You could travel all you want in Vietnam and never lay hands on the Vietnamese currency. It has nothing to do with the war, the US dollar is simply more stable… but still it seems strange. Something that I can’t figure out is how a free market society works under a Communist regime.. can anyone explain this to me?
So let me take you back a few days. Prior to our stop in Saigon, we spent some time in the central part of the country and specifically in Hue and Danang. Because Danang was the initial landing spot for both the French and the Americans (remember the show China Beach?), it was completely devastated by the effects of war. What’s left is a charmless city of deteriorating concrete building and crumbling sidewalks with a generation of people missing (2/3 of Vietnam’s people are under 25 so the latter part is very much the case all over the country). People don’t smile much, at least at foreigners (who can blame them?) and the overall feeling of the rainy region is depressing. Hue is an ancient city, once the centre of life during the Nguyen Dynasty. The old town has an expansive Imperial City that was designed after the Forbidden City in Beijing. Of course, this too was heavily showered with bombs during the wars and what’s left now is a walled-in section of crumbling ruins. On the outskirts of town there are several tombs from the Nguyen Dynasty and we went to visit a few of them on a particularly rainy day. When you walk in and around the huge tomb complexes you feel temporarily as though you have stepped back into another time… but then you round the corner and see yet another crummy showcase of dusty trinkets and warm Coca-Cola for sale and all you can do is sigh. The central area of the country is altogether in ruins, understandably, and it provides you with a tremendous contrast and perhaps a greater appreciation of the wonderful cities of Hanoi and Saigon.
One word on Saigon. When the war ended in April of 1975 and the Communists gained control of Saigon, they changed the name of the city to Ho Chi Minh City after their communist hero and comrade. “Uncle Ho” (as he is often sentimentally referred as) is a story in and of himself so I won’t go into him much only so say that his name was self-bestowed and means “He Who Enlightens”. Saigon or Sai Gon (in Vietnamese language each syllable is a new word) is still what the city is commonally referred to as, at least in the south. In the north they proudly call it by its full name or HCMC. There seems to be a distinct rivalry between the north and the south that you pick up on when you talk to people about the most mundane things, such as weather. In Hanoi (or Ha Noi) I was asked by a woman working at our hotel if I was going to HCMC and when I answered yes, she said with negativity, “Oh, it is very, very hot there.” I replied with “We have had very nice and cool weather in Hanoi” and she smiled, looked at me and said, “Thank you.”
I feel the same way here as I did when I was in Berlin. I have this overwhelming awe about the place. Finally travelling in a place that I have only read about and seen in (countless) movies gives me tremendous satisfaction because I have a sense now of the real Vietnam and how it has survived (and not) in the aftermath of such a triumphant and tragic history.
Sigh.
tothesea,
k~* (I shall remove Magi's initial from posts from now on because it's silly to write "I" and "me" in the post and then have it be signed by us both.. it's no secret that I'm the author of these posts since Magi is overcome with shyness when it comes to these things. But have it be known that though she refuses to write any posts she does edit them all and claims that they also reflect her thoughts of her time here... at least most of the time.)
p.s. Does anyone remember the band Saigon Kick from the 80's? What was with Hanoi Rocks and Saigon Kick? Were they rival bands or something? Were either of them not American? Oh, strange decade. (It must be pretty evident that I have been waiting this whole trip to use these band names as post titles.. have it be known that they are the only reason I came to either of these cities. HeeHee.)