Saigon
Adele and I have been in Saigon and its environs for the last seven days, including Cai Be and Can Tho. Known today as Ho Chi Minh City, the locals still prefer, and refer to their city as Saigon. I don't sense that it is a political statement as much as cultural practice and habit. Although, a visit to the Vietnam War Museum might put a different spin on it. The War Museum is a must see, but not a pleasant walk down memory lane. It is a painful reminder of the fundamental cruelty (and stupidity!) of war. I was a young man in Junior High School when I and my friends protested the war. Walking through the museum I was literally prodded back in time, forced to recall the inhumanity - another made up war for resources and a bogus "Dominoe Theory" - through painfully descriptive photos and the recanting of emotionally wrenching, first hand accounts.
Meanwhile, we had an exceptional experience provided by our tour guide who brought us to a 'pho' shop that was a hub of activity for both the North and South Vietnamese during the 1960's. Down below American Servicemen and Officers were served 'pho' while upstairs secret meetings were being held by leaders of the Vietcong and resistance fighters. We met the third generation of owners of the food stall that has become a landmark.
On our second morning we were picked up at 6AM in order to take a five-minute drive to Truc Parc. It was a Saturday and folks started gathering early to meet their friends and take part in morning rituals that the community partake of. There were activities for all - all levels of skill and ability - from Tai Chi to dance instruction; from badminton to karate; from Zumba to Yoga. There were older folk taking slow walks and younger lovers holding hands. Then, there was this phenomenon. Bird owners got together with their birds in their own, and in some instance handmade, cages and their birds. I don't know what kind of birds they were other that they were extremely vocal. Metal cross structures were set up for the owners to display their birds. It was less a competition, although I can imagine among men their is always competition for something, and more a show of pride. The men sit by a cafe and drink tea and coffee, as we pridefully took our seats amongst the army of owners. We sat and talked and watched the birds. We had a most unexpectedly, satisfying morning. I, by the way, was invited to play a game of badminton. As a young man I used to love badminton and play fairy well. Then, I played with either a single opponent or in pairs. The size of the court allowed for the game to be played with 'angles', that is using soft shots to hit the shuttlecock into corners of the court away from where your opponent was. However, in Saigon, each side has three people, so the court is pretty well covered with defenders. So, this game is fast, with the shuttlecock coming at you at breakneck speed. I could hardly get my racket on the 'cock'. They laughed with me and I had a super fun time.
Later in the day we shed our guide and after 6 weeks in Vietnam (can you believe it???) Adele and I decided to have an American afternoon. So, we took ourselves to the local movie theater to see 'Logan', a trashy, comic-book, fun flick based on the 'X-Man" character, 'Wolverine', and what happens to poor "Fang" as he ages and fizzles out. Popcorn and a soft drink and the afternoon was perfect. We sat amongst nubile youngsters who played with their hand-held devices, whispered little nothings and giggled off to the side. I never looked to see where their hands were. Later that evening we went to the Burger Joint Saigon where I had a double bacon cheeseburger with French fries. The burger was so greasy and delicious I felt I was dying and going to heaven.
The other day we got into a conversation with our new guide about aging and the appearance of the Vietnamese as they get older. She commented that they do not age well. In fact, I noticed that and in its converse. People would ask me my age, a not unusual occurrence, seemingly interested in the appearance of others relative to their ages. When I say that I am (ahem!!) seventy-one, they uniformly gawk in disbelief. Well, not about me, simply to say that however beautiful in youth, soft their skin, lovely in facial structure and vibrantly youthful, later in life there appears a sudden and rapid decline in their overall appearance, as if the hormones gave way and yielded to time.
I am conjecturing several reasons for this. First, and maybe foremost, is that culturally, everyone is sitting. Whether they are selling from a stall, or in a store, on the street or at their home, the Vietnamese sit or lie where they are. There is, generally, no room for chairs. Consider that in a single home, that is to say a room described to us as @8'x12' three generations of family may live. Men and women living in about 100 square feet with a toilet and the same room to shower and clean. A burner and sink is the kitchen. There is little time, and certainly little space for what we know as leisure. As you walk the streets anywhere in Vietnam, you may pass a 'house' whose bottom floor (this room I described) is home to a family that, as you pass, is alternately sitting on low plastic chairs or lying on the floor. Here are some women (the same applies to men) in their environments...all sitting. And, when I say sitting, I mean from possibly four in the morning until one or two in the afternoon.
The possible second explanation for the aging phenomena may be related to what I am currently experiencing. I have developed a 'rash', large, under the skin originating, pimple-like bumps which Adele surmises is caused by heat, sweat and lotion. I have been washing my face and using Cortisone cream and it appears to have improved somewhat. In any case, my theory has to do with the extreme heat and pollution, conditions under which the Vietnamese live every day. By the way, no notes of sympathy...I am fine...and I suspect the visual impairment will resolve itself any day now. On the other hand, you are allowed to make jokes about my neck looking like a stewing chicken's before slaughter. This is my pre-emptive attempt of allaying any personal injury to my ego.
On the third day, Adele and I were picked up at the hotel at 7:30AM, brought to the Mekong River Delta and boarded a boat that would take us up the Mekong to meet up with another boat, a 'sampan', to float us along the tributaries and small canals of the Mekong. We have been fortunate not to have to travel by group, so our boat had a driver and 'attendant' who greeted us with fresh fruit and tea.
Our trip down the Mekong River reminded me of our time spent on the Amazon. For me, the Amazon adventure was more exotic and authentic. Still relatively untouched, The Mekong in contrast, is a highly commercial passageway in the Viet sector. I presume in more desolate and remote areas of the river, it is less commercial and dirty, more natural and wild. I think I will attempt to add a Mekong component to our time in Cambodia time permitting. This is not to say that the day was not worthwhile. Only that we experienced a beaten, unseemly underside of Vietnam which in general exists but that I haven't discussed or reflected upon in my blog. I am actually motivated to talk about it now because of all the responses I get to my blog posts that comment on the beautiful and inspiring photos. Thank you. But, the photos are only a part of the story. Later I may address a reality that is hard to avoid. The daily conditions that people must endure are stultifying.
Yesterday, from Can Tho, we started our day with a boat trip to the Can Tho Floating (Fruit) Market. The name says it all - a floating (boats and sampans) wholesale market from which from hotels and restaurants and small businesses, like Viet versions of groceries, to small street stall owners, go to buy their fruits. The market has diminished rapidly as Vietnam modernizes, and from @ 500 boats is now comprised of @ 100 boats.
Tomorrow, Adele and I fly to Pnomh Penh. Before I depart, I wish to express my gratitude for what it means to me to have you with me, along on this journey. I, literally, cannot wait to get back to my hotel room or take my iPad to a local coffee house to spend some time with you. That's what this is to me. Oh yes, I am journaling. And, yes, I have a privileged opportunity to reflect and think about my experiences. But, it is because of you that I want to share this. It is because you respond and not merely to compliment me for whatever, but answer with your hearts. So, thank you.