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Hanoi, "Many tricks," in 'Nam, "And don't say, 'Nam!" - Fate Fairies - book version
This entry was posted on 1/25/2012 1:30 AM and is filed under Fate Fairies:Fate Fairies - book version.
I had heard lots of innuendo and commercialized warnings concerning safety for travelers in present day Vietnam. Poetically, in three lengthy visits to the country in the mid-2000s, I never had any significant problems. But, you must understand my station in life of viewing Vietnam at the time. The country had recently opened up to tourism. The young Euro-travelers did not see the country like Americans. And, we Americans don't get six weeks of vacation a year to slink around the World to find ourselves. If we do get a week off, it ain't going to be spent in..., Vietnam. And of course, we had endured a 40-year hostile relationship with Vietnam. Fifteen of those years got almost 60,000 Americans killed.
The consummate question from people I know and meet is usually, "Don't the Vietnamese hate us Americans?" Then to, I had lived through most of those aforementioned 40 years. I had been in the military at the end of our American Vietnam war era. So, long story short, I was a bit nervous to go there.
In the course of my graduate work at the University of Wisconsin - Whitewater, I was studying communication and journalism. Focus is important. I used my experience in life to reconnect with Vietnam, and apply it to graduate work. That more academic approach did not necessarily diminish any anxiety about my visits to the country.
I learned rather quickly, the Vietnamese seem to have a collective awareness that if you rip off tourists..., they won't come back. That does not mean there was not a game being played. If you stay on the well-worn tourist paths, you will be hounded by street venders, hustlers, and hookers. The government in Saigon even set up the Tourist Protection Police to address the situation. Be that as it may, my shtick has always been to find the back roads. Immediately I noticed the working Vietnamese off the beaten path basically ignored me.
But, I and then Heide on subsequent visits, had to cross the well-used tourist trails from time to time.
There is a hotel in downtown Saigon that exchanged Dollars at a good rate. We hopped one of thousands of beat-up cabs for a Dollar to ride to the hotel. The driver pulled up at a busy drop-off spot. I instinctively swung my door open. A confederate of the taxi driver, I later surmised, sped up his car to try to hit the open door. The con would have been, I would have to pay the damages. It is just the way it works in Vietnam. There is no such thing as insurance in Vietnam. Luckily, I pulled the door back just in time.
A valet who watched the incident from the hotel foyer ran out to usher us into the hotel. As we thanked him for opening the hotel door for us, he smiled a bit and said, "Many tricks..., many tricks."
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On our second trip to Vietnam together - my third - Heide insisted we start our visit in Hanoi. I remember being quite hesitant about going to the capital of old North Vietnam, the consummate enemy of our long war there. In retrospect then, I was a victim of the very mind set I was trying to breach by studying the country. Had it not been for my insistent wife, I never would have made the visit to the north of Vietnam. We flew in from Korea, and stayed several days in the large but quiet city of Hanoi. Although a city of 2.5 million souls, compared to Saigon, it is like a small town. Saigon is a rambling mega city of noise, ten million people, pollution, and business. It is as if the two cities come from two completely different countries half way around the world apart. None-the-less, it is important to see both cities and actually feel rather than just read about the regionally famous difference.
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On that second trip to Vietnam we made our way back south and held up in the coastal city of Nha Trang. For a Buck we rented a motor scooter and headed out to the boonies. Along the South China Sea, farmers harvest salt from the sea. We began to pass huge piles of white salt along small trails that checkered through shallow seawater fields. Of course, we got lost.
I remembered the pictures of odious jungle trails from the war. We stopped along a path and looked at a hopelessly useless map. From a solitary cement house surrounded by water came a man across a rickety wood foot-bridge. He wore torn work cloths and had a full, clear bottle in tow.
"We are going to die," I told Heide.
"You drink," the man said and smiled. He shoved two dirty glasses at us. I guessed it was some homemade brew. I could smell it from three feet away.
"I don't drink alcohol," I said. The man looked puzzled and shoved the glasses closer.
"He does now," Heide said chugging down half a glass and shoving the other at me.
"One more," the man said, refilling our dirty classes.
"Drink!" Heide said shoving the second glass at me, "I don't want to offend this guy's hospitality in his world. And, I don't want our relatives to realize we are the last two Americans on "The Vietnam Wall."
We departed our new-found ally - he stumbled back into his stone house apparently satisfied he had honored his salt farm by being nice to rare travelers.
In about three minutes down a narrowing trail. I stopped again. The home-brew was kicking in. What ever it was it was strong as gasoline.
"Which way?" I slurred my question.
"Fuck it," Heide said, "Go down that damn trail there."
We headed into the thick bush adjacent to the salt fields, the scooter weaving like being driven by a four-year old.
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One of the oddest encounters I ever have had was meeting a former American Vietnam veteran in the city of Hue. He had married a Vietnamese woman and now lived in Vietnam. This is not isolated. I ran into literally no American tourists but found several former American soldiers and former Australian veterans of the Vietnam War either living in-country, or making extended visits to the place that had changed their lives forever when they were so very young so long ago. At some point, I took a bit of a look at my own motives for really visiting the country. In the end, it was cathartic.
But, the fellow from Hue had read a couple of my dispatches that I sent out to several people back in academia. I had put him on the list.
He emailed me and wrote, "Hey Bob, don't use the term 'Nam. Only veterans that actually served in-country should use that term."
Oh boy, I thought. The ownership of "re-tooled words" and their meanings by certain groups was alive and well.
My pal from Hue notwithstanding, one of the most important physical and as well psychological journeys for me in life was finally visiting...
...., 'Nam.
Note: This blog "Fate Fairies" - book version Category is a work in progress. The original vignettes are being edited for book form. Go to the Cooldadiomedia Web site and the Fate Fairies Page for an ordered chronology of the book vignettes (chapters).
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