Later in Hoi An, Vietnam: Rainy day Writing Time. Teresa wanted sun and, as a kind and generous granny, I wanted sun for her, but now I accept that it’s raining because deep down I wanted a warm rainy day even more…sorry Lace, that was bad of me. Therefore I am looking forward to a day of reading and writing and Lace is doing a Vietnamese cooking class with a group of Israelis. Just another day on the road. My dear granddaughter talks excitedly of going to the market to select the vegetables, and organizing the spices, and hacking the chicken’s head off (I made that up), and chopping and schmoozing and sniffing and cooking and tasting and exclaiming. If I had just a single DNA strand of Renaissance Woman I would think that all most appealing—truth is I would rather watch an old Sylvester Stallone movie and eat toads’ eyes.
I’m putting off trying to figure out how to write about Vietnam. I am moved and troubled and excited and honored to be here. Moved by the Vietnamese determination for independence and their ability to beat the big kid on the block; troubled by what we wrought and have wrought in this place and the rest of the world—of course we’re (Americans) not the only people/nation to have done harm in far places…but the US is the only one for which I am responsible; excited to be in what is one of the world’s geographically loveliest of places with a history as deep and rich as any of the ancient civilizations; and honored that the Vietnamese will have me.
That last thought, ‘honored’ to be welcomed, is … ironic …? I’m almost sorry to say that—according to what I read; one conversation I’ve had so far; and the signs and people around—the Vietnamese people, in general, love Americans. What is that about I wonder? The media and perceived glamour, and money and family memories (the good ones of a flood of mostly nice young men from the US who had dollars to burn) and the hard years after the war with all of socialism’s warts showing as capitalism went home to lick its wounds.
Back to Ho Chi Minh City a couple days ago: Michael, my motorbike driver, on our four-hour HCMC adventure, is 23 years old. He asks me questions about traveling and my family and if the information in the War Remnants Museum was accurate; I ask him about his life and family and if he could travel where he would want to go first. His response: “The US, all Vietnamese want to go the US,” he said. Me: Why? “Because,” he said, “There’s freedom.” Me: For what? He fumbled a bit. Then he said, “Your government protects you.” Me: “Well, not not so much if you’re black, if you’re not-white.” But then I didn’t pursue that…because we all just want to believe stuff…blah, blah, blah.
We did manage some time in the War Remnants Museum, a must stop…just as Ken Burns documentary is a must-experience. And the information is identical although of course Burn’s The Vietnam War is able to go further and deeper on all sides of that place and that time than one building ever could. Here are random photos from the the photographic exhibit at the War Remnants Museum; photos of the memorial to the monk who burned himself to death protesting the anti-Buddhist policies of Diem; and the words of Country Joe Fish—stark reminders all of a dark historical moment for the US and for Vietnam.
Vietnamese Mahayana Buddhist monk Thích Quang Duc
***
I-FEEL-LIKE-I’M FIXIN’-TO-DIE RAG
(Written by Country Joe McDonald)
Yeah, come on all of you, big strong men,
Uncle Sam needs your help again.
He’s got himself in a terrible jam
Way down yonder in Vietnam
So put down your books and pick up a gun,
We’re gonna have a whole lotta fun.
And it’s one, two, three,
What are we fighting for ?
Don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam;
And it’s five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain’t no time to wonder why,
Whoopee! we’re all gonna die.
Well, come on generals, let’s move fast;
Your big chance has come at last.
Gotta go out and get those reds —
The only good commie is the one who’s dead
And you know that peace can only be won
When we’ve blown ’em all to kingdom come.
And it’s one, two, three,
What are we fighting for ?
Don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam;
And it’s five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain’t no time to wonder why
Whoopee! we’re all gonna die.
Well, come on Wall Street, don’t move slow,
Why man, this is war au-go-go.
There’s plenty good money to be made
By supplying the Army with the tools of the trade,
Just hope and pray that if they drop the bomb,
They drop it on the Viet Cong.
And it’s one, two, three,
What are we fighting for ?
Don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam.
And it’s five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain’t no time to wonder why
Whoopee! we’re all gonna die.
Well, come on mothers throughout the land,
Pack your boys off to Vietnam.
Come on fathers, don’t hesitate,
Send ’em off before it’s too late.
Be the first one on your block
To have your boy come home in a box.
And it’s one, two, three
What are we fighting for ?
Don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam.
And it’s five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain’t no time to wonder why,
Whoopee! we’re all gonna die.
Great reading about Saigon…..which Vernon hadn’t visited when we traveled to Vietnam a few years ago around X-mas/New Year’s as we concentrated on Hanoi (still very historic looking and a sizeable city to walk around the famous lake) and Ha-Long Bay (worth visiting for the magic and landscape), a must to visit despite the numerous tourists and the 3 hour long trip by bus through a very green countryside….Enjoy the delicious Vietnamese food while you are there and the sweet iced coffee drinks freshly made from hot brewing coffee and evaporated milk, a “souvenir” of when Vietnam was part of French Indochina!
one two three four…what are we fighting for? Then and now. It sounds like a great adventure..
I didn’t visit the sight where the monk had sacrificed himself. The war remnant museum has had me haunted for days. I recently wrote a blog on the same. You may want to check that out. I think you shall like it