Wanderlust Heaven!

Vietnamese trains show American cartoons, in English. The locals seem to love Tom & Jerry – a show which I outgrew at the age of 6, but hey, it’s probably a fun way to learn English. So I withhold all judgement and say bring it on.

The train pulled into Nha Trang an hour late. And it was raining hard…I suppose I shouldn’t have been cranky, given that until a few weeks before I’d never heard of this place, and was now getting the chance to expand my horizons. But I was in a black sort of mood – 10-hour train ride, crappy weather, hungry, and had been slowly sweating in the ‘aircon’ train car for the better part of the day.

Got to my hotel, which wasn’t too bad. Went out for a bite and stumbled across a Tex-Mex place called El Coyote. Mediocre stuff…later I learned that the owner is French, which may explain things. I do love the French, don’t get me wrong – without them there might not be a USA today. And their own cuisine is exceptional…but Mexican food should be in the hands of actual Mexicans or Americans from border states.

Went diving the next day, with Vietnam’s biggest shop, Rainbow. Turned out to be ‘pickup the trash day’ and we went to some sites which were just so-so…but which did feature large amounts of rubbish. I wondered precisely who took the time to wind several kilometers of string around large rocks and corals? It certainly took us a long time to unwind them…I could have used a dive-knife to simplify the task. Then it rained on the way back to shore. Start of the rainy season around here…oh well.

All that said, Rainbow seemed to me to be the best-run dive operation in the region, and perhaps anywhere. Rainbow has all the usual certifications, and then some (never knew that National Geographic had anything to do with scuba). It’s also a bar/café, an equipment sales/repair shop (and does the critical Suunto battery replacements – a real godsend), and seems to train dozens of foreigners in Divemaster and other courses. Nha Trang would not be a bad place to do more training – it’s a real medium-sized city, right on the ocean, with a nice beach and good night scene, and apparently there are loads of dive sites better than the two I visited.

Noticed on the train ride down that at some point my iPod ‘lost’ some of my favorite songs. Must have happened when I switched laptops…there were a few hitches, despite my having backed everything up. Anyway, I had to buy a few of the songs on iTunes again…and asked my brother-in-law Dave to dig up a few CDs and email me some tracks. I think highly of iTunes and the entire Apple experience, but have to say that sometimes it gets flaky and then you have to play detective and figure out what went wrong. In this case I had to check every album I’ve got in MP3 form and look for missing songs…took hours and was about as much fun as it sounds…

Went out for a beachside run – the cool night air was perfect and I felt great, at least for 20 minutes or so. Felt decadent so went to Le Petit Bistro, reputed to be the city’s best French brasserie. Had a couple nice glasses of wine…a salade savoyarde…a T-bone steak…and a plate of cheese. And even though it was a lot of food, in fine French fashion I walked out feeling sated but not stuffed. And where else can you listen to Barry White and Edith Piaf, back to back?

On the topic of France and the French, I exchanged emails with Jerome, my old French ‘brother.’ I stayed with his family during my summer in France in 1987, and had a memorable time. We’ve stayed in touch sporadically, and for some reason we got into it again now. Jerome’s English was always awful, despite his having worked for Expedia.com for a few years now and his having vowed to learn English for real. I teased him in an email and he replied that he was getting his act together, because ‘Bary Dealer’ had become owner of Expedia. I never heard of Bary Dealer…but soon realized he meant Barry Diller, the mega-mogul. I love it.

Went to Crazy Kim’s for a few drinks after dinner. This seemed to be the most happening spot around, at least for a casual drink. I wasn’t in the mood for the more Asian forms of entertainment, i.e. ‘boomboom karaoke.’ Not that I have any moral compunction against it. Walked into Kim’s, ordered a Saigon beer, and noticed that ‘United 93’ was playing on the large-screen. I’d never seen this, and the bar was too noisy to hear much, but I did watch it through to the end. Quite powerful stuff. And at some point I noticed that an Osama bin Laden mask was hanging from a corner of the bar. I’m not particularly heavy-handed about these matters, but it pissed me off and I told the manager to take it down. She was non-cooperative, but I kept pushing until she removed it. I figured it would be back the next night…and I was right.

I probably wouldn’t have bothered to put up a stink about the mask, but seeing United 93 and thinking about that night (for me, in Sydney), it brought back a flood of raw memories. The worst was calling my father in Boston, and hearing the pain in his voice. I can’t recall his exact words, but it was clear by that point that Muslim terrorists were the culprits, and I think my father said something about making them pay. Fair enough.

Later on, my father discovered that two of his own patients were on the hijacked planes – imagine that. So seeing an Osama mask at a bar playing United 93 and hosting American and other foreign tourists was too much to swallow. There’s just nothing funny about it. And when I returned the following night and saw it hanging there again, I complained very loudly and told the manager I’d be speaking with owner Kim, and perhaps the guidebook companies as well. That got the mask down fast…but I left the next day and don’t know what’s happened with the mask. I have a note to email owner Kim in a few days and weigh in on this – maybe hanging a George W. Bush mask is the proper solution. That would be just fine with me…

I only had two full days in Nha Trang, and dove the first. For the second I took an all-day tour of the nearby islands. I’d heard of a company called Mama Linh that had fun booze cruises – signed up for that at my guesthouse. The morning rolled around, the bus came to fetch me, and something seemed off. I asked the bus fellow if this was Mama Linh, he said no, Mama Linh wasn’t running a tour today – but it was the same tour. I still didn’t feel right, but eventually got on the bus. It would have been nice for my guesthouse to be more forthcoming with me, but it’s like that in Vietnam – the system of kickbacks and commissions is breathtaking and confusing to tourists.

I almost backed out again, when it came time to board the boat. The honcho, Dung (pronounced ‘Yung’) finally convinced me to come along, promising me my money back (only US$6 for the entire day!) if I didn’t have fun. My issue was that I seemed to be the only foreigner on this boat, and I was expecting a mixed/international crowd. Who here would I talk to? Seemed like a boat full of Vietnamese honeymooners. I turned out to be way off base. Dung was one of the most entertaining people I’ve ever met – he played bartender (and gave me an early beer free to placate me), guitarist, tour guide, comedian, marine trash collector and all-round majordomo. A true Vietnamese renaissance man.

Here he is, in action:

Started out with some snorkeling at a nearby island…then some on-board entertainment, including songs and guitar by Dung, who played ‘This Land is Your Land’ for my ears. There were a few Japanese on board, and a Viet Khieu (overseas Vietnamese) couple named Billy and Danielle (their Americanized names, of course), who were lots of fun. At one point a crewman got in the water with a few floats and a case of cheapo Dalat wine, and we had an impromptu floating bar. Nearly everyone jumped in to crowd the bar and it was pretty funny watching people try to get back on the boat 45 minutes later, full of wine.

Billy and I went tandem parasailing later on – hadn’t done that in 10+ years. Great fun. Finally, we visited a decent aquarium which, bizarrely, offered visitors imperial Vietnamese costumes and photo opps, for a fee of course. I thought I made for a pretty convincing Vietnamese emperor:

Went out that night, still a bit drunk, to the Louisiane Brewhouse and the Sailing Club, two cool establishments right on the water. Good food and drink. I sat there marveling at this seaside city – a place I’d never known of despite my 10 years in Asia. Asia’s a huge continent, for sure, but I’d thought I knew my way around and that’s often not the case. I wondered how many other gems were sitting out there, just waiting for a spin…

As was the case in the North, I was still sweating my days away. Very hot and humid. So I decided to visit the hill station of Dalat, established by the French in the 1920s or so, and decidedly cooler than the coastal areas. Dalat’s at 4500 feet and is actually chilly – I was happy to have my single long-sleeved Zara shirt on hand. Got a room for US$15 that had it all – lots of room, wireless, huge bathroom w/hot water, free breakfast, and very nice staff who couldn’t do enough for me. Talk about a steal.

Had to spend a couple hours online taking care of business, then went out for a walk. Walked all the way to the Sofitel Dalat Palace, a former French hotel restored in the 1990s by an American attorney named Larry Hillblom (I think) who later perished in a seaplane accident off Samoa. Beautiful hotel – with the excellent Larry’s Bar underneath. The grounds of this place are something else – I don’t have any photos (it was nighttime) but you can probably get a peek online.

Finished up that night at Saigon Night Bar, a divey spot that was tough to find but worth it. I sat next to a Dutch guy who’d seen it all and had recently lived in ‘Chinese Siberia.’ Ugh. On the other side of me were two Aussies who were considerably greener, but cool enough. The Dutch guy was a font of knowledge on geopolitics – said that his own countrymen were ‘the America lovers of Europe,’ knew a lot about the Swedish Wallenberg family, etc. Fun guy to talk to – even though he was slowly slipping away from the booze.

Slept like an old dog that night, the air was fresh and cool and there was no need for aircon. No hotels in Dalat even have aircon, to the best of my knowledge, and you wouldn’t need it. Refreshing.

Next day was really my only full day in town, so gave in to pressure from a taxi driver and went on a moto tour with him for a few bucks. I got my own Honda and that made it tolerable. Dalat is full of random guys who call themselves ‘Easy Riders,’ qualifications for which are unknown but every bozo with a bike calls himself an Easy Rider and offers essentially the same tour of Dalat/surroundings. That said, some are far better than others and offer great tours of the Mekong Delta, rides to Hoi An, etc. Nienke, my Dutch friend from up north, was taking an Easy Rider tour from Hoi An to Dalat – 5 days on the back of a bike, seeing everything. Fun…but I couldn’t sit on the back of a bike for that long, as you know I have control issues…and like to feel the wind in my hair.

Saw lots on this half-day tour – waterfall, pagodas, crafts villages, etc. The two most unusual things were:

1. A newborn calf – the thing had just popped out of its mother, was covered in goo, and was struggling, unsuccessfully, to stand up. The cow’s placenta was being expelled and it was a most random sight:

2. A ‘factory’ in which caterpillar/butterly larvae were processed into silk for clothing. The larvae are boiled (presumably to kill the embryo within), then the silk is extruded and made into silk for weaving. Computer cards (reminiscent of 1950s-era room-sized IBMs…) are used to control the weaving of silk into patterns – amazing to see this process. The factory even sells clothing – it’s A-Z. Here’s a look at the process of turning bug grubs into beautiful silk dresses – boggles the mind:

And Dalat is a lovely place – I have a soft spot for these hilltowns anyway, the ones in India and Burma are terrific.

Here’s a few shots of Dalat, with Eiffel lookalike:

Walked over to the Caravelle, another classic establishment with the excellent Saigon Saigon bar atop. Great views, naturally. Felt like a time-warp – could have been 30-40 years earlier, except for some of the marks of our time like mojitos and Tommy Hilfiger clothing.

Walked back to my hotel. Got enticed into entering a girly bar – hadn’t seen any of these in Vietnam thus far, so was curious. Not too different from those elsewhere in Asia – cold beer for the boys and constant admonitions to buy the girls an overpriced cocktail or juice. I bought one, chatted a while, saw a bit of flesh, then left.

Was going to call it a night, but stopped in a lively little place called Cycle 163 for a nightcap. Was served a Tiger Beer by a nice but homely bartender…who then invited herself to come sit next to me, and of course ask me to buy her a drink. I’m generally a kind-hearted guy, but I get cranky when ugly women bother me like this. Call me shallow – I’ve been called far worse. I ignored her…eventually she went away. I felt a Pavlovian joy at this, and sipped my beer for a few minutes, listening to the very good playlist.

After a few minutes I noticed a change of personnel behind the bar – a super-cute woman was now tending bar and bouncing around to the music. This was more like it…I do like to gaze upon beauty, in whatever form it presents itself. I finished my beer, asked her for another, and commenced chatting with her. Turned out she was from Danang, a place I’d liked…and she had just come to Saigon for work. Her English was pretty good, she smiled a lot (and had a nice set of choppers – not a minor consideration), and was upbeat. And somehow I found out that she was an avid swimmer, and also taught yoga. Quite intriguing.

So far I’d managed to glide through Vietnam without any entanglements – unlike in Laos or Cambodia. And given those existing entanglements, I was OK with a chaste Vietnam experience. But that’s the thing about travel – any minute can overturn everything. We talked for a couple hours, till she had to go home. But we had made a date for the next afternoon, to go swimming together at one of the 5-star hotels. My hotel lacked a pool, but you can just pay at the top hotels and use their facilities. That sounded like a winning plan…and I do like these sorts of random first dates where you don’t need to share life stories over plates of food. Back to this storyline in a few paragraphs.

Next day was my one day to see the city sights, so I got up early and tackled them. Another round of the classic hotels, including the Continental (see the 2002 remake of The Quiet American, with Michael Caine and Brendan Fraser – it’s largely set at this hotel, a real beauty, the Rex, and the Caravelle. Over to the HCM City Museum, a fantastic colonial building that houses a hodge-podge of war and city-related items.

Then to perhaps the top sight, the Reunification Palace. This was the residence/offices of the South Vietnam Republic’s President, Nguyen Van Thieu, from 1966-1975. And on April 30, 1975, in a clip most of us have seen, enemy tanks burst through the front gates and took the building, effectively ending the South’s existence. The fall of Saigon, in a nutshell. The place is huge, and has been preserved largely as it was that very day. A few shots:

Façade and gate:

Greeting/receiving room:

Map room:

Communications room:

As with other sights in Vietnam, I was happy to see the place, but in the end it lacked something – the drama associated with the moment, I think. Now it’s just another impressive colonial building, with a huge Vietnamese flag atop it and a fully-functioning, repaired front gate. Oh well.

Next, to the War Remnants Museum. This place used to be called the Museum of Chinese and American War Crimes – at least they listed China first. I suppose the influx of gringo tourists led them to change the name. But I don’t think they pulled their punches otherwise – the museum is deeply disturbing, and while full of the usual propaganda, also full of irrefutable evidence of American wrongdoings in the war.

There are formaldehyde jars of malformed fetuses – grim creatures that barely seem human. Photos of children with faces scarred by Agent Orange…children and adults with severely distorted limbs and heads…stories of American massacres, including but not limited to My Lai. It really makes the viewer wonder what the fuck we were fighting for…and what our so-called leadership was thinking. Also, the interstices of American politics – while Eisenhower, JFK, and Johnson may have been well-intentioned fellows and solid presidents in their own right, the war came about because each of them took on the Vietnam cause without a fundamental questioning and re-think of their predecessor’s policies. At least that’s my read.

Who was out there really wondering how bad it would be if we got out of Vietnam (or never went it) and let the country reunify? Did we really think Thailand and Burma would be next? Whatever we thought, we made it worse, not only for Vietnam, but for Cambodia and Laos, both of which went Communist largely due to our indiscriminate bombings and invasions. Sadly, not the last case of American bungling leading to bloodshed and fucked countries…

Saw a few more sights, then retired, satisfied that I’d seen the biggies in Saigon. Like Hanoi, this city has lots to see, especially for the history-minded like myself. Saigon lacks Hanoi’s thousand-year history and Old Quarter charm, but it’s classic in its own right and has a real openness and energy that you don’t see as much in its northern rival. I wouldn’t quite say that Hanoi and Saigon feel like two different countries, but the differences are palpable, and go beyond level of English speaking, etc.

Kicked back for an hour – my feet were killing me. Then went to meet my new friend at the Caravelle Hotel, where use of the pool and fitness center is only US$23 – more than my hotel room, but what the hell. We went to get changed, then met at the pool – and I was more than pleased to see that she was wearing a bikini, and not some awful Commie one-piece imported from China. As I mentioned earlier, I like dates where you don’t just sit there and eat and talk. And I particularly enjoy it when my date shows up barely clothed – that simplifies matters greatly. I once went to a Hawaiian party at Tufts, and met a sophomore who wore a grass skirt and bikini top. That cut out several steps in the dating process.

We did a bit of swimming, but she was cold and stuck close to me – so far, so good. I hadn’t checked the pool temp beforehand, but made a mental note to ensure cool waters in the future. Had lots of fun with her clinging to me in the pool – an obese German guy was watching us, so we went over to a hidden section and stayed there until he left.

Sat in the Jacuzzi after that…showered, then went with her for a coffee before she had to start work at 6 p.m. A great date…and completely out of thin air. I thought I’d get out of Vietnam without any such interests, and was OK with that. Now here I was, leaving Vietnam in a couple days but perhaps with something to bring me back.

My hotel was right next to her bar, so she gave me a ride on her scooter. As I got on the back, I asked her ‘how much?’ She turned around, smiled, and gave me the usual driver’s line of ‘up to you.’ And I melted right there. We drove for a few minutes, during which time at least 4 or 5 Vietnamese guys took a look at this good-looking fox driving a bulky American around and either lost their cigarettes or nearly crashed their bikes. Reminded me of my last days in Vientiane.

She went to work, I went to take a nap…but it was hard to sleep given all that was going on. It had been a full-on day and I was loving Saigon thus far. Went for a walk that night. Found a cool little bar on a side street, went in and had fun playing dice games with the girls. Left to visit my new friend at Cyclo 163 Bar, and en route saw a yellow Lamborghini idling at a stop-light. Wow – that’s not something you see too often in these sorts of countries. Of course, Vietnam now has KFC and Pizza Hut, and Ford dealerships and all that – not much left that’s orthodox Communist anymore.

Over the course of the night I saw a few old foreign geezers with considerably younger local women – girls, really. I don’t have a problem with the age difference – I suppose I’ve been in Asia for so long and seen it so often that it seems normal. What I find depressing is when the older man is repulsive – obese, covered in tattoos, wearing a baseball cap, shorts, sneakers and white sox. Then you know the relationship’s pretty much all about money and visas. I know I sound naïve here, and I do understand that love, like capital and labor, flows as freely as possible and that’s generally OK. It’s just that the imbalance of power and resources creates some images that I’d prefer not to see. I mentioned earlier that, like many, I like to gaze upon beauty…and the picture of a repulsive old man and a younger beauty is just about the worst image I can imagine.

Had bought a copy of the weekend Financial Times. The weekend edition is one of my favorite reads, there’s some excellent writing and the topics covered are boundless. There was a long article about Alan Greenspan, the former Fed Chairman, and his new book. I’d already heard about the book and some of its contents, and had formed some initial opinions. Like most people, I used to think highly of Greenspan – in the 80s and 90s, he was a godlike figure who single-handedly kept the world economy afloat, or so we thought.

But a few years ago I started revising my opinion, starting with his seeming endorsement of the Bush tax cuts. Greenspan went to Capitol Hill and appeared to back Bush’s plan, even though it seemed likely to worsen the federal deficit, a figure which the Clinton Administration (admittedly with a nice economic tailwind) had dramatically reduced in recent years. I still recall getting a US$300 check from the US Treasury and thinking, this is what the Bush Administration is all about? Pathetic.

Greenspan’s new book claims that he backed a tax cut, but not the sort that Bush offered and pushed through. Give me a break. Greenspan was famous for being opaque, but I just don’t buy the then-and-now story told here. And following the timeline back, Greenspan’s record isn’t quite so wonderful. Sure, he weathered the Dow crash a couple weeks after he took office in 1987, but he didn’t do much to prevent the Internet bubble 10+ years later and when that blew up it had huge ramifrications. His comment about ‘irrational exuberance’ wasn’t really forceful enough back then. And, coming back to the present, here’s Greenspan predicting all sorts of mayhem in the coming (or current) ‘Age of Turbulence.’ Are we facing turbulence because he’s not running the show anymore?

I haven’t read the book, so I won’t whine much more here. But I have to say that I find it galling to now have it on record that Alan Greenspan, a brilliant guy for sure, is just another ex-government hack who’s now covering his ass with a best-selling book. If everyone who comes out of government and writes a book like this – and I’m talking about David Stockdale from the Reagan Administration, George Tenet from the CIA, and various others – is actually telling the truth, then 9-11 would never have happened and we’d have a balanced budget and our annual economic growth would be 5%. Former Fed Chairmen like Paul Volcker is probably a figure worthy of far greater adulation – Volcker took office when US interest rates were 17% and the economy was tanking. When he left things were back to normal and Reagan got re-elected as a result.

Greenspan had no such challenge to confront – which may be why he feels compelled to be become a commentator when he should be spending his time in bed with wife Andrea Mitchell. So fuck Alan Greenspan. And that’s my rant for this week.

Oh, one more rant, on Burma. You’ve probably heard about what’s going on there. The people have been incredibly brave (or perhaps just so fed up that they don’t give a shit anymore), but the military is predictably cracking down and things are looking ugly. I’ve applied for a visa to go back there…not sure I’ll get it, and even if I do, not sure I’ll go. What can we do to help these poor people? I’m praying there’s some sort of split forming in the army and a Burmese Gorbachev will come out of nowhere. That’s about the only positive solution I can see. Or, if the Chinese had any heart, or balls, they’d mass troops at the border and threaten to come in unless the junta quit. That might work. One Burmese asked ‘Why doesn’t the US invade and help us?’ But that won’t happen – we’ll just make noises at the UN and impose useless sanctions on the top 15 generals who are already filthy rich from Burma’s natural resources and deals with the Chinese. We’re too busy in Iraq, a place where we should not be and where we’re not wanted.

My final day in Saigon I took a half-day tour to the infamous tunnels of Cu Chi. These were the VC/military version of what I’d seen up at the DMZ. I read the book ‘The Tunnels of Cu Chi’ back in school and had always wondered what they were like. Now I’d see. Our guide was an ex-South Vietnam Army soldier named Hai. Very funny…pretended to have crappy English but it was soon apparent that he spoke fluently.

He walked us around, showing us the above-ground village. Lots of loud noises – turns out you can rent a machine gun (M-16, AK-47, etc.) and shoot rounds at targets nearby. The shooting was surreal and I sort of felt like I was under fire at times. The tunnels have been enlarged, by 100% in some places, but I still had to crawl on my hands and knees to get through. Locals can just crouch and shuffle through, but not me. We were only in there for 100 meters, but it was hard going and it was again apparent to me why we lost the war. We were 70 kilometers from Saigon and here was an enemy stronghold that we could never erase.

That bit of university day nostalgia satisfied, rode back to town to see a few final things. Hopped on a motorbike to Saigon’s Chinatown, Cholon, which was once a very Chinese area, but which was partially emptied during the late 70s when the new Communist government had an anti-capitalist campaign and many Chinese left as a result. It’s not that well-known, but most of the ‘Vietnamese’ boat people were actually Chinese Vietnamese fleeing this campaign and anti-Chinese sentiment. You can guess what effect this campaign had on the economy.

As I’ve written in earlier postings, when will these new governments learn? They all go through the same retarded steps, and wind up embracing markets and capitalism just before undergoing a complete economic collapse. How boring…

Cholon was unremarkable – a lot like Chinatowns everywhere, just much larger. I focused on the Cha Tam Catholic Church, simply because this was where former South Vietnam President Diem and his brother fled when they were unseated by the November 1963 coup. These two eventually divulged their location to the coup plotters, who sent an armored carrier to pick them up. But soldiers shot and stabbed the two to death before they were brought back to coup HQ. And from there South Vietnam’s leadership was a pathetic merry-go-round, a far cry from the political stability (if repression) in North Vietnam.

As I walked down the main street to find a place to eat, a little boy went to the sidewalk, pulled out his pecker, and nonchalantly took a whiz a couple yards from my feet.

Heard that a bridge on the Mekong Delta, to the southeast, collapsed while being built. About 100 have died and it’s a huge mess. All over the news in Vietnam. Not on the way to Phnom Penh, my next destination – but a real tragedy.

My final night in Saigon. Was planning to go see my lady friend at her bar, but first met with a couple ex-colleagues who happened to be in town that night. Hadn’t seen either of them in a couple years and it was good fun catching up. As usual, two-way grilling – I wanted Monitor gossip, they wanted to know about my new life of ultimate freedom. We all came away satisfied, and fairly drunk. These interactions are important for me – because I do sometimes go weeks without having conversations about familiar topics and people and miss these touchstones.

Went to see my friend. Sat at the bar till she finished work, then we went out for Chinese food. Good to know that you can eat dim sum/yum cha at 3 a.m. in Saigon. The world is amazing. I had a bus to catch at 8 a.m. to Phnom Penh…but sitting there with a comely Vietnamese lass, eating shiu mai, I decided to just let things happen. I am a control freak, but in active counseling. Over and out.

This entry was posted on Saturday, September 29th, 2007 at 2:00 am and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.