In Country

21 August 2009

Cue the ubiquitous Jimi Hendrix--we're officially in Vietnam these days. Eleven days, to be exact, and minus the big blue truck--Vietnam exercises their right to not let foreign vehicles in without permits arranged well in advance. It used to be no vehicles at all, the rule's only changed recently and sadly not in time for us to get a permit. Tim and Rich have taken off for Cambodia to deposit said truck, and we're with Cheryl, enduring the tragedy of air conditioned private buses for the next while.

First stop: Hue (pronounced way), the royal capital of Vietnam from 1802 until 1945. Also the site of a month-long battle in the Tet Offensive of 1968, which mostly destroyed the very cultured city. These two things seem to be primary in the city's image even now; main sight is the Imperial Citadel, the very elegant equivalent of the Forbidden City which dominates one whole side of the Perfume River. It's peaceful and serene and beautiful in the extreme--and also mostly missing. 120 of the 150 buildings were destroyed in Tet and in later fires. What remains is partly original, partly rebuilt, and all very beautiful. Spent the afternoon there with Denis, wandering among trees and foundations, pavilions and crumbling walls. Also they charged us one-fifth of what they charged everyone else, apparently. Either we just look really nice, or really poor. Or someone in the States has blown the whole war thing out of proportion.

After the Citadel, wandered around in the sweltering heat looking for a cafe--in Vietnam, these mainly consist of old women on a sidewalk, in possession of about 4 kiddie-sized chairs and a bucket of water with some Sprite in. Found our own old lady, who had diversified into whole coconuts with straws, though still on the requisite tiny chairs. Though when we planted our obese Western selves in them, she booted us out and fetched a bigger set. With reinforced seats.

Deciding it was too hot for any more walking, we hopped in a trio of cyclos--these look like Roosevelt-era wheelchairs, with a Vietnamese guy at the back pedalling along. Over the Perfume River amidst a sea of motorbikes, and back to our hotel. We're staying in a place called the DMZ Hotel, no lie. They do run tours up to the actual DMZ--the former demilitarized zone, scene of much very nasty fighting, but it's a 12-hour tour day from here. Next time--can already completely see coming back to Vietnam. We drove through Khe Sanh yesterday (reference: Bruce Springsteen's Born in the USA), we're driving down along China Beach in the next few days...I think for us as Americans especially this part of the trip is remarkable. I feel like we're imbued with some familiarity with this country just from growing up with the movies, tv, pop culture, etc. I have clear memories of Dateline and 60 Minutes and whatnot interviewing Vets in the 80s, and being freaked out watching grown men crying. My own parents knew boys who came here and died. Hue didn't fall to the Communists finally until 1975, a year before I was born, but the whole area was bitterly contested for a very long time.

The History & Revolutionary Museum in Hue--spent the afternoon here. Outside are an array of rusting American tanks, still with ID numbers, seized when the city fell. Not to be overly dramatic, but I found it really moving to see the 'US Army' stamped in crumbling white on the side. The signage is great--letting you know in the most unbiased way possible that these are ammunition provided by the US to puppet soldiers for the crushing and killing of the people. Although modern Vietnam is tourist friendly, and lively, and open, it is still a communist country technically, and the museum is just a reminder that the victor always writes the history books.