Vietnam

When an American looks at Asia they often view the region as one big exotic place filled with people that look the same and are all sort of “Chinese.”  It is only after you live or travel here that you truly come to understand the tremendous variation between the region and its people. At times these ethnic, cultural, linguistic, religious and political differences combine to make westerners seem as if they are the ones that are the same. The differences between a French, White American, German, English or Italian start to seem so small in the eyes of an Asian and we are typically racially grouped together in much the same way.  The Thais even have a word for it, Farang.  The term Farang envelopes all white skinned western folk and places them into a single class of foreigner.

President Tran Dai Quang

I recently completed my third trip to Vietnam, a region of the world I am still struggling to define.  The land is in a word fascinating.  It is an inconvenient land.  One that is reaching out to the world and developing at such a breakneck pace the Vietnamese have no way to define themselves.  Like Europe rising from the ashes after the second world War, Vietnam has taken its own path that in many ways seems to defy simple explanation.   All across the country buildings are shooting up and infrastructure projects are struggling to link a country that still takes three days to travel between it’s two largest cities, Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh.  Rampant capitalism seems at odds with the professed communist socialism of its founders.  That said the act of buying - selling and trading seems to be ingrained into the DNA of South East Asians.  

As I travel the land I feel like it’s idealogical rulers are standing on top of a giant expanding balloon.  The floor beneath them and their views is no longer flat.  Looking outward from their concrete palaces, they quickly spread their legs as they desperately try to balance.  They are perilously trying to come to some kind of an arrangement that preserves their status as rulers and quenches the thirst of a people hungry to achieve a better condition while they join the modern world.  This is coupled with the fact that the population of Vietnam is young.  As they look at their leadership they start to question the wiseness of men who represent another generation yet govern theirs.  This is not an isolated phenomenon to Vietnam.  In my own country I have joined the over 50 class yet start to look at the nations leadership as old.  It is time I believe, to let the youth have a chance at cleaning up the mess we have left them.

Vehemently anti-Chinese, Vietnam like other’s in the region is swallowing its pride as money from their northern neighbor floods southward.  The rulers juggle geopolitics like an alcoholic clown doing his best to stand and keep all his balls in the air.   America wants a friend, Vietnam needs an ally.  China steals the ocean from them with manufactured islands and attempts to do the same with 100 year leases of special economic zones.  As cash floods in businessmen create empires with a still developing infrastructure limiting their growth.  All the while people look eagerly toward the sky to see if any benefit will float down to them.

Many powers have tried to tame the Vietnamese.  From the Khmer to the Chinese.  From the Chinese to the French.  From the French to the Americans.  Each tried to make love to her and then left a scar but none of them owned her.  In the past the Chinese have conquered her, made war on her and now try to buy her.  The Vietnamese have never succumbed before, I hope this time will be no different.  

As I travel around Vietnam I am truly convinced by the realization that there is beauty in chaos.  Roads are choked with lorries, vans, bicycles and scooters.  They move around each other in a syncopation typically reserved to migrating birds or wild animal herds.   There are seemingly no speed limits yet everyone drives slowly as if knowing breaking a speed barrier could create a butterfly effect.  

The countryside outside the chaotic cities contains island like hamlet villages surrounded by undulating verdant green rice fields.  As you pass through the towns there is a strange feeling of tranquility juxtaposed with city life.  Neo French architecture melds with Vietnamese style to create its own cultural form.  I am never quite sure if the Vietnamese are embracing French style and vestiges of colonialism or developing their own unique cultural progression with tentacles extending out into the various elements of their past.  

There are moments when the past and present collide.  One moment illustrating this occurred in the former French mountain escape town of Sapa.  Sapa crests a mountain top with terraced fields extending down the sides of the mountain on which it sits.  There is scarcely little of the original French town left, most of it having been destroyed by bombing during the French Indochina wars predating the Vietnam war.  In it’s place typical concrete construction has filled in the gaps around planned European style parks that were never erased.  In the center of town is a small cafe called the Cong Caphe.  You enter and young people dressed in green North Vietnamese uniforms with patriotic bandanas take your order.  The walls are festooned with patriotic slogans in Vietnamese.  The place is an example of a new generation isolated from itself and living a caricature of history.  War has been replaced with a tourist attraction and while drinking a smoothie, I couldn’t help but wonder, did they learn this from America?

There are moments in tourist areas like the old French Quarter in Hanoi or in Sapa where you feel that tourism is exploding.  The image and general feeling changes however as you leave the concentrated centers and venture out into the interconnecting areas.  Rest stops on the highways while attempting to cater to tourists with government run shops of overpriced crafts, seem oddly rustic.  I recall leaving a transport van at one stop and entering the restroom in an out building at the rear of a restaurant.  A woman sat by the door collecting a fee.  I wanted to pay her but she couldn’t seem to tell me how much.  As I struggled with my Vietnamese currency known as the Dong in denominations of 10s of thousands, more people came in from the van.  A circle of foreigners desperate to urinate gathered around her.  The some what slow attendant seemed to be confused and looked at me like I should pay for everyone.  I wasn’t about to pay for the urination of five people but despite that fact, I still had no idea how much.  Finally a Vietnamese traveling woman approached her said something in Vietnamese and then told us all to go. I think she was telling us to ignore the woman but I felt like it would be a sin to ignore her and pee for free.   I placed what probably amounted to a nickel in her tin and went on my way.

There are moments when traveling seems surreal.  One such incident occurred while driving south into the Trang Anh region in our hired minivan.  Our guide pointed out we were entering the cement region.  It was an area defined by limestone mountains poking up from the landscape and industrial rock smashing quarries where all is pulverized.  We were driving toward Ninh Binh an enchanting region to appreciate the very same mountains we were seeing yet these, were being carved out and leveled one by one.  It felt like an odd desecration of the beauty we were supposed to appreciate.  Just off the highway there were large cement plants processing the lime.  For some, they were symbols of industry and progress yet in my eyes they seemed to be a desecration of the bucolic landscape.

Neuschwanstein Castle, Bavaria

The wealthy owner Mr. Tien the General Director of Thanh Thang Company is busy creating his own eternal empire called Lâu đài Thành Thắng.  Rising from nondescript concrete store fronts and nearly fronting a busy north-south highway is what can only be described as the recreation of a French Imperial Palace.  Apparently Mr. Tien is building it for him and his sons as a kind of lasting monument to the power of concrete.  I tend to view the whole thing as a Vietnamese version of mad king Ludwig the creator of Neuschwanstein Castle in Bavaria.    The interior of the place does not disappoint as it recreates the most over the top European gilded style.  I must say without a doubt it achieves what Saddam Hussein and Muhumar Kadaffi never could.

Vietnamese like their Chinese distant cousins have never learned the art of regulated modulation of the voice.  It always makes me wonder what the graciously demure Japanese must think as they travel around Asia.   Of course I am a representative of Western Civilization who when we showed up in Japan for the first time in 1543 possibly bathed once a year.  For Europeans of the time bathing was considered decidedly unhealthy.  

Sometimes I wonder if the Chinese and Vietnamese ever realize how loud they are as the scream conversations across others.  Perhaps it is a reflection of population density.  Maybe they need volume to be heard however, this still doesn’t explain the Japanese.  The Japanese in contrast are likely the most polite, clean and modulated people on the surface of the earth.  At times I feel like it is a kind of loudness arms race, each side trying to out do the other.  Our Italian traveling partner Francesca fell victim to this one night as she unluckily drew the room on the first floor of our Hanoi hotel.  Late in the night the hotel staff turned what was likely a normal conversation in the lobby into the level of one in a discotheque.    Some where past midnight Francesca had to go down and ask them to please hold it down.   Italians however do have their moments when they scream their emotion at each other.  Maybe we are all oblivious to ourselves.  

In my fifty-one years of existence on this planet I have lived a gifted life.  I have traveled and continue to travel around the world observing lands most would only dream of discovering.   With this reality firmly implanted in my mind I have to say that some of the landscapes I have viewed in Vietnam are simply the most stunning I have ever witnessed.  From the solitary islands of Ha Long Bay to the limestone mountains of Ninh Binh.  Ancient mountains remnants rise like rounded teeth stretching across a mystical often fog shrouded landscape.  The colors are so vivid at times I wonder if my eyes are truly absorbing reality.  When I view the Vietnamese landscape I experience moments when I lose touch of the future and the past as I come to terms with a world that seems to surpass the word beauty.  Vietnam is filled with snapshots that lodge in the brain and follow us through life as we are audibly incapable of conveying their true content.  

In Vietnam everything seems to bounce.  The roads are seldom smooth and even the smooth ones are not really so.  When we traveled by train the feeling surpassed the gentle rocking of the European trains of my youth. In its place was a non-stop jerking and swaying as the sleeper cars bounced down the tracks.  Despite this the country is attempting to modernize in what is really more a haphazard collection of improvements.  In moments a decent road surrenders to a potholed filled maze of craters as vehicles slow and navigate around them at times coming disturbingly close to each other.  A wide road can suddenly become a street scarcely wide enough for one vehicle to fit through let alone two.  When they come to face to face a complex negotiation takes place as the drivers acknowledge each other and often with the assistance of passengers or passers by attempt to circumvent.  Minuscule gaps exist between shifting metal as engines whir and unseen obstacles threaten to crash into the windows.  Shopkeepers you would think would be nervous are surprisingly calm as vehicle tires approach their front doors.  The amazing thing is somehow it all works out.  I think I would have a nervous breakdown were I driving but I have actually witnessed precious few collisions.  Throw a cow, chicken, bicycle or scooter into the mix and there is no cinematic work that surpasses the adventure unfolding before the eyes.

When I invest they will produce better O's

Somewhere in Vietnam there is a massive factory that makes light bright style LED signs and I want to buy stock in it.  Every street, every town seems to have these LED style signs selling whatever.  Vietnam is a place that you can buy anything you want just don’t go looking for a real brand.  Those are exported.  In exchange there is a massive market for fake goods and nothing exemplifies this more than North Face.  I can only imagine what an employee of North Face must think when they come to Vietnam.  The funny thing is, the quality isn’t half bad.  Putting copyright infringement aside, Hanoi is amazing in it’s energy and creativity.  Little boutiques are everywhere often selling original creations.   Just don’t be an American size.  As an American finding anything that fits in Asia can be a challenge.  What might be an L in America is an XXL in Asia.  The size small literally fits a doll.  It is a land that will truly make us feel obese but in reality I suppose we are.  These are tiny people and at 5’8, 185 lbs I feel like a giant in Asia.  

When you live in Thailand especially as a man there is a certain amount of in your face sexuality.  Thailand in many ways can be conservative but there are zones that act essentially as sexual free zones.  In these areas raw sexuality beats you over the head.   Vietnam stands in sharp contrast to this.  I am sure there are red light districts and other sexual zones if you look for it but I have found it in no way obvious.  Vietnamese society seems to be governed by a certain amount of sexual innocence and purity.  The traditional clothing of a Vietnamese woman accentuates femininity but also hides obvious sexuality.  At the same time I have found Vietnamese women to also be modestly engaging.  

Make no mistake there are things that bother me about the country.  I hate the way they treat the environment eating just about everything.  The consumption of dogs and cats is especially jarring and I was depressed for hour after the first time I witnessed dogs on their way to be dinner.  Pollution and garbage are everywhere.  The concept of conservation has yet to firmly take root.  That said, things are changing.  The older generation was intent on surviving.  The younger generation is intent on thriving.  There is a growing consciousness among children and more than one young Vietnamese has explained to me that they have left many of the less savory rural traditions behind them.  Corruption is endemic like everywhere in South East Asia and to a growing extent in America as well.  

In the West we are good at passing judgement while we live in our own glass houses.  We endure the crimes of our own politicians while we point the fingers at others.  America pulls out of the Paris Accords on Global Warming and then criticizes air pollution in another nation.  In Europe and America cities like Rome or Detroit are garbage filled yet Vietnam is dirty.  In truth what progress we have made in valuing the environment or combating pollution has occurred over decades and it has involved slowly growing a class of citizens more intelligent and aware then the ones we were raised with.  In short it is the education of our youth and the often grudging acceptance of the rest of us that despite the inconvenience of change, it is a bitter pill we must swallow.  We know in our hearts that in the end it will make us more healthy.  

Ho Chi Minh "Uncle Ho"

I have traveled the world and have observed societies where I have felt little hope.  Vietnam is one where I feel the opposite.  It is a nation populated by a people determined to grow and change.  It is a young society blossoming.  The nation is a country that has moved beyond peeking out at the world.  They are realizing the time has come to engage it and they are doing their best to figure out how to do it.  It is in no way a simple nation.  There are countless differences in the people if you peer beneath the surface.  Northerners are different than Southerners.  Ethnic hill tribe people cling to their roots and preserve their culture while trying to find a way to open to the world and occupy a place in a society where they are a tiny minority.  

As a casual observer I found myself walking around the simple and spartan house once occupied by Ho Chi Minh, the enemy of America, and wishing that the current leadership would emulate him, not just remember him.  He was a simple man with a desire to help his people.  Communist or capitalist could we ask more from any of our leaders?  Sometimes we can only move into the future by keeping one eye on the past.  I hope for the sake of this generation and the ones to come they will guide their future with the loving and at times critical eyes that I as a foreigner use to look upon their land.  I am truly lucky to call Vietnamese in America and in Vietnam my friends.  Together I hope we are building bridges that will endure long after we are gone.