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Published: March 25th 2006
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Sleeping on the Job
Here is a visual of your typical friendly cyclo driver. You sit in the front, he pedals in the back. I passed this corner several times a day, he never moved! GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!
(you know that title was coming)
I start my first day in Vietnam at 7am on a cyclo (see photo), I am willingly scammed to be taken to the first site on my list, the War Remnants Museum. Scam meaning, I pay $2 when I know it’s worth $1 for the ride. But since crossing the streets safely are a major life risk (remember frogger?), I accept. Conversations began with my new friend about his life and how he used to be a doctor before the war but the “re-education” changed everything.
-HISTORY LESSON-
Before the war many cyclo drivers were doctors, teachers and journalists, but like their friends they were punished for siding with the Americans. After the cease fire tens of thousands of them were stripped of their citizenship and sent to re-education camps for seven years or more. More than 20 years later it is still impossible to return to their jobs they are qualified to do and most do not have an official residence permit, which means they cannot own property or a business. It’s technically illegal for them to even be in the city. Many of the men have never
Streets of Saigon
One of the quiet streets had families because they could not afford, nor are they permitted, a home to live in.
-END HISTORY LESSON-
On they way, I notice other cyclo drivers giving him a thumbs up and clapping. It’s not because he had a passenger, but rather a passenger that was not fat. “Ah yes, they clap for me because you are good passenger, not heavy like American girl, you size of Vietnamese girl, you make job much better.”
Before the museum I ask my friendly driver (I’m not attempting to spell his name) to take me somewhere close by for an authentic Vietnamese breakfast, “pho”. I arrive at a typical local bustling noodle house. My driver walks me in and pulls me out a chair in between a dozen Vietnamese businessmen at a very small round table. I am the only woman there, I am definitely the only tourist there, and I am MOST DEFINATELY the only American. I smile but they just stare, I smile again, but they stare even harder. I notice some kids outside laughing and pointing at me. Well, at least they’re smiling. But the men just continue to stare and slurp their noodles. OK, this
Dad, is this safe?
Go ahead and take a look up while you are walking the streets in Saigon (just briefly so you don't get hit by a motorbike).I think the telephone wires are a great reflection of the chaos just below is uncomfortable. These men are not mean, I’m sure they are capable of smiling, maybe they just think I’m “interesting”. My driver orders me a breakfast and waves goodbye...10 seconds later I get a bowl of noodles and lots of other little things that I have no idea what to do with. The man sitting across from me ordered the same so I follow all his leads. OK, that’s supposed to be put IN the soup, that’s for your hands, that’s for the side, that, you don’t eat, this, you stir together with the green stuff...and you use the spoon in COMBINATION with the chopsticks...and remember NOT TO leave your chopsticks in the bowl when you are finished, it is considered bad luck...the sticks are a metaphor for death...symbolizing 2 legs of a corpse. Never leave your chopsticks in your bowl when you’re finished!
After my tasty Vietnamese breakfast I am now ready for my first museum, the WAR REMNANTS MUSEUM, which might as well be named “Atrocities Performed by the American People Museum”. Now, not only am I the only woman, the only tourist, the only American there, but I am also the only person in the museum,
Aircraft
American Military aircraft at the War Remnants Museum...original tanks, bombs, helicopters, etc, still covered in mud are scattered throughout the exhibition and THAT I prefer. I can feel the guards stare intensely at me, watching my reaction exhibit after exhibit...hundreds of disturbing photographs and stories from the victims of Agent Orange to the prisoners of the tiger cages...unsettling images, which churn my noodle breakfast into a 3-ring circus. I am determined to see the recent history, careful not to form any opinions or cast blame at either side. I will consider it as educational. It is the only way I’ll get through it. Plus it is a rare and special opportunity to learn about the Vietnam War in Vietnam. I just hope that in 30 years there is not a similar museum in Iraq.
I spend the entire morning there, or at least long enough until the tourists come rolling in. There are actually a good number of very loud westerners here in Vietnam, I just thankfully start my day before they do.
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seamus
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Pho
Ah yes. i remember that being one of my favorite meals. As someone once said to me when I was travelling over there, "Just try not to look like a tourist." Yeah that's easy to accomplish when you are half a foot taller than anyone and 50lbs. more. Oh yeah, white and bald I always liked being alone when travelling, you can do what you want when you want. Good luck and keep the stories coming.