This is still the only country that ever defeated the United States militarily. And they're as proud of that as they are welcoming and friendly. Actually, the generations born since the war seem to hardly think of it. Are they as immune to history as our young people often seem to be? I'm afraid so, even though what they went through was so deeply traumatic and revolutionary. They spit in the eye of the latter-day colonialist world and got away with it. And they're doing a damned good job running this country. The infrastructure is excellent (unlike that of India, Nepal, Madagascar, Kenya and Mongolia), as is China's, but they don't exercise the repression we encountered in China. Information flows freely, and there doesn't seem to be any oppression of minorites, ethnic or religious. Of course, China is a much larger and more diverse country, and its problems are more challenging.
Having been an active opponent of the Vietnam War (called the "American War" here), I felt great solidarity with the Vietnamese people for their successful resistance to our war machine, which was an extension of the old French colonialist regime--propping up a collaborationist regime against a popular revolt. We're on the wrong side of every popular conflict, it seems. So naturally we wanted to see the memorials to the struggles of the Communist forces against the US. We visited the tunnels and displays/demonstrations of Cu Chi, 70 km NW of Ho Chi Minh City, the War Remnants Museum in HCM City, and, writing now from Hanoi, we intend to see the various museums commemorating the revolutionary struggles here, including the Hoa Lo Prison, aka the Hanoi Hilton, now a museum.
We returned to Ho Chi Minh City Wednesday night from Siem Reap and had booked an all-day tour of the Mekong Delta for the following day. It was cheap enough, and we were with 19 other people. We stopped at the My Nhat Temple on the way down, which has a huge white laughing Buddha on its grounds, the kind of thing that's kitsch writ large, but so extravagant in its bad taste that it's astonishing. I was also afraid that they forbade photography inside the sanctuary, where the monks were all standing by their communal tables, ready to dine together. But then I saw monks with cameras; one even took my picture! And there was another one with a large tablet taking movies.
Given all the annoying strictures on photography in the Buddhist monastaries and temples we encountered in Tibet and China, it was refreshingly ironic to see the monks themselves taking pictures--including of me!
Overall, however, it turned out to be mostly a shopping tour, with some good eating, and a lot of boat riding across the Mekong River in a covered sightseeing boat, and into the narrower waterways on open boats and paddle-driven boats. On one of the islands we visited a coconut candy factory--and it was so good, I had to buy a pack for 30,000 VND ($1.50).
There seemed to be some sort of tourist market at every stop we made, and we eventually realized that we were not going to see the traditional indigenous culture of the region, except from quite far away. And as our tour guide later pointed out, the tourist industry was an integral part of the the current culture, and allowing them to sell to us was the condition for our visit.
Then it was off again on a boad paddled by two local people. We all received coolie hats for this journey.
Still, it was disappointing. It very much resembled the swamp tours of Louisiana I used to give, sans alligators and nutria. No wonder so many Vietnamese settled in the New Orleans area--for the same reason the Mongolians went to Minnesota.
Today, in contrast, was mostly devoted to learning about the "American" war from the Vietnamese side. The great German anarchist Augustin Souchy, who had fought in the Spanish Civil War, and whom I had the priviledge of knowing, used to say during the 70s that there were only two superpowers in the world, North Vietnam and Israel. He may not have been aware of the massive support Israel has always gotten from the US, but with North Vietnam he was right on the mark.
The following day was our pilgrimage in the form of a group tour, to the Cu Chi tunnel area, 70 km northwest of Ho Chi Minh City, quite close to the Cambodian border. This was a staging area for the Communist forces fighting the US and the government of South Vietnam, and much of it was a fire free zone. It was here that the Communist forces both from North Vietnam and their allies in the South, constructed a network of over 200 km of tunnels on three levels, which helped them survive the massive bombing. But the well-organized outdoor exhibit covered much more than the tunnels; it showed the whole do-it-yourself home-made war industry by which the Communist forces used natural materials to constuct deadly booby traps for the American soldiers. These included sharpened bamboo sticks planted 6 feet or two meters down and carefully camouflaged. They were also tipped with poison or feces for added lethality. Of course, they received armaments from China and the Soviet Union.
The entries to the tunnels had to be carefully concealed and were quite small. I volunteered to lower myself down into one of them, and it was quite tight.
A little later we were all escorted through a section of tunnel, which had been enlarged and lighted. Still it was only about 4 feet high, so we had to stoop our way through it. It was also hot. The exhibit had set up life-size mannekins of soldiers working on their weapons. I posed with two of them. There was also the wreck of an American M-1 tank.
On the way out we were shown how very durable sandals were made from discarded tires, their straps made of the cut-up tubes. I bought a pair for 75,000 VND ($3.75).
On our way out to Cu Chi we had made one shopping stop at a laquered items factory that specifically employed disabled people. We saw all phases of the craft, including the creation of cloisonne' pieces, which involved making a mosaic of small eggshell fragments--a revelation to me. The subject matter was quite cliched--idealized nature scenes with cranes, horses, or fish; people working in fields; even reproductions of iconic Klimt paintings. This may have been chic in the US 40 years ago as oriental art. What was still valid, I found, were the functional pieces: the tables and dining room sets. Where the laquering was used as a decorative element without artistic pretensions, it worked very effectively.
When we got back to town, we had the bus drop us off at the War Remnants Museum, the major content memorial to the Vietnamese-US war. Aside from the Chinook and Huey helicopters, the M-1 tank, the fighter plane and various other large-scale US weapons, it was primarily a collection of photographs and statements, occupying three floors. There it all was again: the Life Magazine covers, the US soldiers in the rice paddies, the various declarations opposing the war from voices within and outside the US, including the Bertrand Russell Tribunal, and Senator Wayne Morse; the demonstrations against the war; also General Curtis LeMay's famous threat that we would "bomb North Vietnam back to the stone age."
But most moving of all were the images of the sufferings of the Vietnamese: the massacred, the victims of napalm and of the birth defects caused by Agent Orange and the other defoliants. I had forgotten the extent of chemical warfare that our country had waged, violating international law. The sufferings of the Vietnamese and of our soldiers as the war machine ravaged on, despite the loss of public support in the US, the intelligence reports that it was unwinnable (exposed by Daniel Ellsberg), the condemnation of the world, the Paris "Peace Talks," only to be stopped finally by the military victory of the North Vietnamese and the failure of the "Vietnamized" efforts of the Army of the Republic of [South] Vietnam.
I finished the museum in an hour and hopped a cab to the Fine Arts Museum not too far away. Housed in a 3-story French colonial building, it featured some good contemporary art on the ground floor (which also housed a private gallery with rather conventional art); archaeological pieces and traditional ceramics and bronzes on the second floor, and laquer and inlaid work on the third. I was very glad to see artists working in the laquering medium producing truly original work.
Details from a three-panel laquer painting. The same techniques that create kitsch for tourists has produced great art in the hands of creative masters, and you see many examples in the Fine Arts Museum.
I walked back to the hotel through the huge Ben Tranh market and found some travel shaving cream I needed and also some delicious dried mango, among the many dried fruit offerings. With markets like these, composed of hundreds of specialized stalls, Ho Chi Minh City has no need of a Wal-Mart.
That night Barbara and I took a cab to a fashionable section of town, thinking we'd stop in at the Apocalypse Now bar. When we arrived, though, it wasn't yet open, so we ate at an excellent Vietnamese restaurant in the neighborhood--around the Opera House, which is styled after the Paris Opera, and occupying the center of a traffic circle. When we emerged from the restuarant, Barbara had lost her desire to see Apocalpyse Now, thinking it would cost us $7.25 just to get in, but I went in and took a look around for free. There wasn't much from the movie, just one wall decorated in a jungle motif. Otherwise it was a cavernous bar with several rooms and a bandstand.
We took a cab back to our hotel. We had a 9 am flight to Hue' the next morning.
Having been an active opponent of the Vietnam War (called the "American War" here), I felt great solidarity with the Vietnamese people for their successful resistance to our war machine, which was an extension of the old French colonialist regime--propping up a collaborationist regime against a popular revolt. We're on the wrong side of every popular conflict, it seems. So naturally we wanted to see the memorials to the struggles of the Communist forces against the US. We visited the tunnels and displays/demonstrations of Cu Chi, 70 km NW of Ho Chi Minh City, the War Remnants Museum in HCM City, and, writing now from Hanoi, we intend to see the various museums commemorating the revolutionary struggles here, including the Hoa Lo Prison, aka the Hanoi Hilton, now a museum.
We returned to Ho Chi Minh City Wednesday night from Siem Reap and had booked an all-day tour of the Mekong Delta for the following day. It was cheap enough, and we were with 19 other people. We stopped at the My Nhat Temple on the way down, which has a huge white laughing Buddha on its grounds, the kind of thing that's kitsch writ large, but so extravagant in its bad taste that it's astonishing. I was also afraid that they forbade photography inside the sanctuary, where the monks were all standing by their communal tables, ready to dine together. But then I saw monks with cameras; one even took my picture! And there was another one with a large tablet taking movies.
Given all the annoying strictures on photography in the Buddhist monastaries and temples we encountered in Tibet and China, it was refreshingly ironic to see the monks themselves taking pictures--including of me!
Overall, however, it turned out to be mostly a shopping tour, with some good eating, and a lot of boat riding across the Mekong River in a covered sightseeing boat, and into the narrower waterways on open boats and paddle-driven boats. On one of the islands we visited a coconut candy factory--and it was so good, I had to buy a pack for 30,000 VND ($1.50).
There seemed to be some sort of tourist market at every stop we made, and we eventually realized that we were not going to see the traditional indigenous culture of the region, except from quite far away. And as our tour guide later pointed out, the tourist industry was an integral part of the the current culture, and allowing them to sell to us was the condition for our visit.
Lunch was excellent and ample. We dined on these fish, served fried and standing in a small holder.
Today, in contrast, was mostly devoted to learning about the "American" war from the Vietnamese side. The great German anarchist Augustin Souchy, who had fought in the Spanish Civil War, and whom I had the priviledge of knowing, used to say during the 70s that there were only two superpowers in the world, North Vietnam and Israel. He may not have been aware of the massive support Israel has always gotten from the US, but with North Vietnam he was right on the mark.
The following day was our pilgrimage in the form of a group tour, to the Cu Chi tunnel area, 70 km northwest of Ho Chi Minh City, quite close to the Cambodian border. This was a staging area for the Communist forces fighting the US and the government of South Vietnam, and much of it was a fire free zone. It was here that the Communist forces both from North Vietnam and their allies in the South, constructed a network of over 200 km of tunnels on three levels, which helped them survive the massive bombing. But the well-organized outdoor exhibit covered much more than the tunnels; it showed the whole do-it-yourself home-made war industry by which the Communist forces used natural materials to constuct deadly booby traps for the American soldiers. These included sharpened bamboo sticks planted 6 feet or two meters down and carefully camouflaged. They were also tipped with poison or feces for added lethality. Of course, they received armaments from China and the Soviet Union.
The entries to the tunnels had to be carefully concealed and were quite small. I volunteered to lower myself down into one of them, and it was quite tight.
A little later we were all escorted through a section of tunnel, which had been enlarged and lighted. Still it was only about 4 feet high, so we had to stoop our way through it. It was also hot. The exhibit had set up life-size mannekins of soldiers working on their weapons. I posed with two of them. There was also the wreck of an American M-1 tank.
On our way out to Cu Chi we had made one shopping stop at a laquered items factory that specifically employed disabled people. We saw all phases of the craft, including the creation of cloisonne' pieces, which involved making a mosaic of small eggshell fragments--a revelation to me. The subject matter was quite cliched--idealized nature scenes with cranes, horses, or fish; people working in fields; even reproductions of iconic Klimt paintings. This may have been chic in the US 40 years ago as oriental art. What was still valid, I found, were the functional pieces: the tables and dining room sets. Where the laquering was used as a decorative element without artistic pretensions, it worked very effectively.
When we got back to town, we had the bus drop us off at the War Remnants Museum, the major content memorial to the Vietnamese-US war. Aside from the Chinook and Huey helicopters, the M-1 tank, the fighter plane and various other large-scale US weapons, it was primarily a collection of photographs and statements, occupying three floors. There it all was again: the Life Magazine covers, the US soldiers in the rice paddies, the various declarations opposing the war from voices within and outside the US, including the Bertrand Russell Tribunal, and Senator Wayne Morse; the demonstrations against the war; also General Curtis LeMay's famous threat that we would "bomb North Vietnam back to the stone age."
But most moving of all were the images of the sufferings of the Vietnamese: the massacred, the victims of napalm and of the birth defects caused by Agent Orange and the other defoliants. I had forgotten the extent of chemical warfare that our country had waged, violating international law. The sufferings of the Vietnamese and of our soldiers as the war machine ravaged on, despite the loss of public support in the US, the intelligence reports that it was unwinnable (exposed by Daniel Ellsberg), the condemnation of the world, the Paris "Peace Talks," only to be stopped finally by the military victory of the North Vietnamese and the failure of the "Vietnamized" efforts of the Army of the Republic of [South] Vietnam.
I finished the museum in an hour and hopped a cab to the Fine Arts Museum not too far away. Housed in a 3-story French colonial building, it featured some good contemporary art on the ground floor (which also housed a private gallery with rather conventional art); archaeological pieces and traditional ceramics and bronzes on the second floor, and laquer and inlaid work on the third. I was very glad to see artists working in the laquering medium producing truly original work.
I walked back to the hotel through the huge Ben Tranh market and found some travel shaving cream I needed and also some delicious dried mango, among the many dried fruit offerings. With markets like these, composed of hundreds of specialized stalls, Ho Chi Minh City has no need of a Wal-Mart.
That night Barbara and I took a cab to a fashionable section of town, thinking we'd stop in at the Apocalypse Now bar. When we arrived, though, it wasn't yet open, so we ate at an excellent Vietnamese restaurant in the neighborhood--around the Opera House, which is styled after the Paris Opera, and occupying the center of a traffic circle. When we emerged from the restuarant, Barbara had lost her desire to see Apocalpyse Now, thinking it would cost us $7.25 just to get in, but I went in and took a look around for free. There wasn't much from the movie, just one wall decorated in a jungle motif. Otherwise it was a cavernous bar with several rooms and a bandstand.
We took a cab back to our hotel. We had a 9 am flight to Hue' the next morning.
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