The Hue' It Was

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The bus we took to Hue is what is known as a VIP Sleeper Bus. It’s a double-decker with fully reclining seats equipped with little woolen blankets and airline sized pillows. We caught the bus outside of Hoa’s place on the main northbound road. The driver made us take our shoes off before we boarded. Inside it felt like you had walked in on a teen slumber party. This particular bus had begun its journey in Nha Trang and was probably full when it left. The air was heavy with seratonin laced sleep breath. A quintet of French backpackers had turned the back row of seats into a fetid nest of cheese eating surrender monkeys. There were only two vacant seats, neither of which offered much in the way of comfort. The bus seats lie in three vertical rows with narrow aisles in between. The seats are designed for Vietnamese bodies, which as a rule are short and slender. At only 16-inches wide there is little chance that you’ll roll over in your sleep on these ‘beds’. Karen and I jammed ourselves in as best we could, thankful that it was only going to be a 3 hour ride which cost us $5 US each.

We rode along the coast. In Danang we watched the round-boat fishermen run their nets out to sea. The skies were a leaden wet gray as we climbed up and over a small mountain ridge. At the top we had a thirty-minute rest at a small village. Roadside stands offered red-labeled jars of pickled shrimp and shellfish. A local delicacy. We pulled into Hue at 11 AM. The perpetually present horde of bus station touts made it as difficult as possible for us to leave the bus. Mostly guys selling hotel rooms and tours to the DMZ. Our hotel guy in Saigon had given us the name of a hotel. We showed the address to a cyclo driver who told us that we were a long way from our lodgings and that we would definitely have need of his services. His shifty gaze prodded me to ask another driver the same question. He pointed at the hotel next to where we were standing. Duh! The hotel was nice and cost $15 a night for a clean and modern room with cable TV, fridge, balcony and hot water. We even had an elevator, which is kind of rare in Nam. Across the street was a large 4 star hotel with a nightly cabaret show. We stowed our stuff and headed out for a look around. Hue is an Old French colonial town with tree shaded streets. The Perfume River bisects the city into what are called the ‘New’ and ‘Old’ districts. We were staying in the new area.

The Citadel dominates the old city. This large walled area was once the enclave of the Vietnamese emperors. In 1968 the VC captured the Citadel during the infamous ‘Tet Offensive’. The VC set up gun emplacements on the high walls with intersecting fields of fire. Two battalions of US troops had no choice but to attack the Citadel by crossing two narrow bridges directly under the enemy guns. The Americans suffered horrendous casualties as the VC fought to the last man and woman. There was hand to hand combat in the streets, which was preceded by intensive bombing, artillery strikes, and the use of Napalm. It took 25 days to regain the city. Out of a population of 140,000 people 90,000 were made refugees in their own town when their homes were destroyed. The VC took advantage of their time in Hue by murdering 3,000 citizens they considered to be sympathetic to the government of the South. The royal palaces were so badly damaged that restoration work continues to this day.

Along the promenade, vendors sell an oddball collection of cast off US military equipment. The low walls are lined with gas masks, Claymore mine casings, fatigues, military patches, medals, infantry badges and disturbingly; US Military dogtags. On the same street one can also buy flowers, songbirds and food. A huge Vietnamese flag flies from the Zenith Gate, which dominates the skyline. In the early morning people play badminton on the dozens of courts that surround the Citadel. Senior citizens walk the paths around the walls swinging their arms and doing stretching exercises in the chilly air. There is a military museum on the Southeast side. American tanks and artillery pieces that have been stripped of their mechanical parts sit in a rusted row. Frenchmen pose for photographs on the equipment, usually straddling the 155mm howitzer. (Dream on) The museum itself consists of two long buildings. One is dedicated to the war with the French; the other is focused on the ‘American War’.

When I was a boy my Dad had a collection of Japanese military stuff from his days in the Pacific that he kept in a dresser drawer. I remember a small Rising Sun flag, some occupation currency and a few tattered photographs. A kid down the street once showed me his Dad’s stuff. He had been a more ambitious guy and had squirreled away a German machine pistol and a couple hundred rounds of ammo. We were tempted but never did it. I had an uncle who lived in a suburb of Chicago. He built a bar in his basement highlighted by a rack full of dusty Japanese rifles and a couple of defused hand grenades. As kids we thought that this was great stuff. Tangible connections to young fighting men, who amazingly enough happened to be the same boring guys that we called Dad. The Hue museum is a huge collection of the same sorts of things. Glass cases hold M-16’s with broken stocks. In another case is a collection of knives and homemade weapons that the donors certified were actually used to kill Americans and their ‘puppet’ soldiers. (Puppet is the endearing term used by the current Vietnamese government to describe the soldiers that served in the army of the South). It was all pretty much the same crap until I came to the last display near the exit. Laying in a forgotten little pile was a stack of US Army ID cards. The same thing that I carried around in my wallet for seven years. Those of you that served know what I’m talking about. The laminated green card with that terrible black and white mug shot they took of you during the first week of Basic. You always needed to have it when you were wearing civvies and wanted to go shopping in the PX. A soldier and his ID are not easily separated. My own always sat front and center in that little plastic wallet window that usually came pre-loaded with a picture of some great looking girl that you were never going to meet. There was a Captain’s card. The rest were enlisted men. Mostly E-5’s and E-3’s. I thought about writing down the names and service numbers. Maybe run them down on Google and find out where the families lived, but to what end? Give them a call or write a personal note?: “Hey Mrs. Hollister, I just wanted to let you know that your kid’s ID card is sitting in a war museum in Hue. Maybe you should give em’ a call and see if they’ll toss it back at ya”. Like twisting a knife. I pocketed my pen and walked.

We took a cyclo home. It was the first time that we had availed ourselves of this particular form of transportation. I just never felt comfortable with the whole notion of some Asian guy peddling my wrinkled colonialist ass around town. Hue is full of cyclos waiting for fares. We had never seen these many in one place before. They park in long rows along the major streets looking hungry. As you walk past the drivers call out offers for one-hour tours around town. Sometimes they’ll trail alongside while you walk down the street trying to close a sale. We were facing a long trip home late in the day so we decided to go for it. When cyclos don’t have any passengers they’ll carry store goods from the city market to various shops. Sometimes they haul wood or charcoal or cases of empty beer bottles. I once saw a cyclo loaded with bricks being towed by a guy on a scooter with a clothesline. In Saigon we saw one with a brand new king-sized mattress on top. (We were hoping he was headed to our hotel but no such luck) The strangest one of all was transporting an entire flight of metal stairs in traffic. Our driver threw a plank across the armrests and had me sit down. I felt like a kid getting his first haircut. Karen sat on the seat between my legs and off we went. Damned if it wasn’t fun. We entered the chaotic stream of traffic with the wind in our face and didn’t slow down once. No one paid us any attention at all except the occasional tourist who would point from the sidewalk and say, ‘Why don’t I do that?” The best part of the ride was not having to listen to cyclo drivers constantly ask us if we wanted to go on a one-hour tour. On the downside the driver was regularly tapping me on the right shoulder and pointing out some insignificant thing: Tap, “This is the old city”, Tap, “This is the bridge”, Tap, “This is the Citadel” and on and on and on. Karen thinks that they do it because they like to practice their English whenever they can. Karen is kind.

We ate dinner at the ‘Minh Co Co’ restaurant which is highly recommended by Lonely Planet and that fact alone should have been our first clue that the place was going to suck. Service was good but the food was pedestrian and food prices are much better elsewhere. Another negative was having vendors walk up to your table while you ate, trying to sell you a silk painting. The best restaurant we found was Xuan Trang at 16 Hung Vuong Street. Really great food at rock bottom prices. The best Pho we have ever eaten in Vietnam. A great place to kill an afternoon over a slow meal and a good book or just watch the world walk by. You can feast there for $3 per person. The place is a definite keeper. Another place to try is the ‘Mandarin Café’ at 24 Tran Cao Van Street right around the corner from Xuan Trang. Nice atmosphere and competitive prices. The owner, Mr. Cu, is a well-known local photographer. His work decorates the restaurant walls and is available for sale at 20,000 Dong per print. That night we discovered the limitations of our hotel. At midnight a busload of Asian men pulled into the hotel across the street for the cabaret show. The noise was incessant. The next morning we hired a cyclo to transport Karen and our bags to the Phoenix Hotel (Phuong Hoang) at 66/3 Le Loi. Phone: [phone] E-mail: [e-mail] Website: phoenixhotelhue.com. Here we found a clean, huge room with balcony and all the bells and whistles for $12 a night with a 5-night stay. The staff is attentive and caring. Breakfast is included in the price and the food is plentiful and good. The hotel is located on a quiet street with WIFI on the premises. Hue is the best vacation value we have found in SE Asia. Two people can live and eat well here for less than $25 US a day.

We paid a visit to the Citadel one morning. It’s considered to be a pricey attraction at 55,000 Dong. ($3.30) US. Anyone who thinks that is expensive hasn’t been to the museums in Italy recently. You buy your ticket from an official looking woman at a gray metal desk. Right behind her at an identical desk is a man who checks your ticket. Inside the first building you visit sits another woman who punches your ticket. She accomplishes this by snipping a corner with a pair of shears. The efficiencies of Communism. At first glance the Citadel is less than impressive. Most of the buildings are either gone or undergoing reconstruction. Karen and I watched a group of carpenters as they rebuilt a pavilion using the same techniques that were used a hundred years ago. Mortise and tendon joinery. No power equipment here. Chisels and wooden mallets are the tools of choice. Once the carpenters are finished, a team of men on scaffolds come through and painstakingly apply coats of lacquer until the wood takes on a baby's bottom finish. A wooden architectural model provides visitors with an idea of what the final product will look like. At the rate they are going they might be finished within a hundred years.

There is a beautiful opera house on the grounds. Intricate decoration covers every inch of the interior. For a fee you can have your picture taken in full Mandarin regalia on the stage. There’s a throne on the stage and if you like you can have your picture taken sitting on it in full Mandarin regalia. But sitting on the throne costs extra. If you want to go for the whole banana you can hire an entire court of approximately 36 professional models in full Mandarin regalia to serve as your attendants. If that isn’t enough for you there are two dragon costumes with three guys in each one that you can hire to pose with the 36 models in full Mandarin regalia. But if you want to sit on the throne you have to pay extra. The throne has a large sign on it that warns people not to sit on the throne unless they have been given specific instructions to do so which they can only secure by paying extra and wearing full Mandarin regalia. The warning is written in every language conceivable. While we watched, a French family decided to remove the sign and sit on the throne for some vacation photos without permission or full Mandarin regalia or paying extra. Hell, they didn’t even pay attention. As soon as one of the kids plopped his derrière down, a Vietnamese woman at the rear of the theater let loose with a shriek that froze every person in the place. The French kid looked up with the ‘Moi?’ look and freaked. As the Vietnamese woman rushed the stage armed with a badass case of indignation, the French family skedaddled. If you visit the opera house do not even THINK about sitting on the throne unless you’re in full Mandarin regalia. To hire the 36 models and the two dragons and the full Mandarin regalia and the throne you will have to part with the princely sum of $12 US. It’s good to be king.

The last exhibit was the most interesting. There was a large collection of photographs showing life in the royal court during the 19th and early 20th centuries. Comparing the photos to the outside areas we began to fully appreciate the grandeur of what was. Every wall in the city was crowned with a line of oil lamps that were set alight every night. The effect must have been a stunner. A collection of intricately embroidered royal garments filled large glass cases in the room.

We cyclo’d back to our hotel crossing over the old bridge and along the Perfume River promenade. Workers were putting the finishing touches on a thirty-foot Christmas tree constructed entirely out of green Heineken bottles. We passed a large school where children practiced gymnastics outside in a tree-shaded playground. A man dressed as Santa Claus passed out flyers in front of the DMZ restaurant. A group of drivers sat in their idle cyclos reading text messages on their cell phones in front of the water Puppet Theater. (Three performances a day) The weather was chilly and gray but Hue was warm and kickin’. We took a cue from Santa and did Christmas Eve at the DMZ. The crowd was young, boisterous and in a Christmas mood. On a large LCD TV we watched Vietnam beat Thailand in a wild soccer game. We were told that Vietnam winning against the usually unbeatable Thais was a national dream come true. The crowd went wild, waving flags and sparklers and singing ‘Vietnam, Hochiminh’ which we assumed was either the national anthem or a celebratory sports song. As we walked home through the cold mist early Christmas morn, the streets hummed with celebrating soccer fans waving Vietnamese flags from an endless parade of honking scooters and cars. A nice Christmas gift for a country that needs as many as it can find.

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Photos

VIP Treatment
The cozy confines

Another Fine US Donation
Hardware collection outside the Hue military museum

Street Sales
Lots of old military equipment and personal items like these

How-to Class
Re-creation of a do-it-yourself weapons manufacturing business that you can do at home as many did back in the 60's.

Unhappier Times
Scene outside the Citadel in January of 1968

Moving Day
Changing hotels with our Vietnamese moving van.

The Zenith Gate
Main entrance to the Citadel

Carpenters
It was fun watching these two carpenters putting the pieces together.

Don't Even Think of Sitting Here
Proper attire required

Shocking Behavior
Karen cheers for the other team on Christmas Eve.

Throne Photo Price List
In case you were interested