Saigon? Ho Chi Minh City? HCMC? Argh...
Trip Start
Jul 25, 2006
1
152
165
Trip End
Ongoing
Ho Chi Minh City,
Vietnam
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
War Museum
.I don't think I am alone in this. Many guys of my generation grew up with a similar feeling. There is no question as to the horror of the Vietnam conflict for ALL involved, both American and Vietnamese. The fact is, however, by the late 1980's, it was a 'cool' war. It had kick ass music, dope smoking, jungles, torture, and the Tet Offensive. It wasn't real to kids of my generation - we were babies and toddlers when it finished. Growing up I knew no one who had served in Vietnam, but I did know the names and ranks of every actor on "Tour of Duty". The Gulf war was yet to come, and my generation didn't have a conflict to define us. We became Vietnam vets in our minds, even more full of misinformation, racial stereotypes, and naivety than the generation of young Americans who were first shipped over to the 'Nam. (This brings up another point about my generation's sense of "Canadian-ness" and why we looked to America so much in our teenaged years, but that's another post sometime).
Twelve years earlier, I crossed the border into Laos from northern Thailand. I was with two British friends, Matt and Lisa, and we decided to charter a speedboat to Luang Prabang instead of taking the two day slow boat. The fast boat took six hours and when you stepped aboard the boat, you were handed crash helmets with absolutely no smiles or sense of irony
War Museum
. I remember wanting my own Vietnam experience. I knew I wasn't going to Vietnam on that trip, but figured Laos and the Mekong River were close enough. I sat in the front of the boat, and popped in the ear phones of my walkman. As we speed down the river, I blasted Jimi Hendrix's Purple Haze at top volume (having bought a bootleg cassette in Bangkok). Sarge, Doc, and Joker sat behind me while a big corn-fed White redneck and a jive talking, dope smoking Black private cracked jokes at each other. The fresh faced, inexperienced Lieutenant sat by himself wondering why he didn't feel respected by the men under his command. I had my movie moment.Vietnam today has moved on. While many in the west might still have the images of a 1970's developing country in their minds, Vietnam has developed in leaps and bounds. When we were dropped off in Saigon, we haggled for a taxi with the usual mix of humour, rage, exasperation, and resignation. Eventually we were dropped in the backpacker ghetto of Saigon. Our guesthouse, while simple, has wireless internet and air conditioning. The streets were filled with foreigners, prostitutes, vendors, and everyone else in between. While Vietnam remains communist, it is a communism that has embraced capitalism in the economic region while maintaining the communist doctrines in governance.
Danayi and I spent around a week or so in Saigon, mostly just taking in everyday life and getting a flavour of the city. We went to the former Presidential Palace, now called the Reunification Palace, where the official fall of Saigon and the South Vietnamese army happened on April 30, 1975. Having all but been abandoned by the Americans at this point, the Southern army folded under the onslaught of the North
War Museum
. As the tanks crashed through the gates of the palace, the conflict was all but over. Soon after, Vietnam was communist from north to south, and another painful period of history began for those Vietnamese who had fought on the losing side.Today the palace is a museum, kept in the same condition it was when it operated as the headquarters of the president of Southern Vietnam and of the war effort. The manicured grounds are large and peaceful, while the large conference rooms and living quarters of the mansion ooze with 1970's Disco suave. The most interesting part of the palace is the underground. It was here in drab green painted claustrophobic hallways that the war was planned and orders executed. Maps rooms still have the detailed topographic maps used to mark supply routes, bases and known VC locations. Communication rooms were filled with men who spent hours in tiny little cells, whispering or yelling the language of war around the country. It was here the President sat behind his simple metal desk, and heard and witnessed the loss of a war. It was here down the dark hallway we found, but were barred from entering, that the prisoners' cells were located. As the southern army in desperation began to mimic the tactics of the VC, many of the prisoners sent here never came back and died horrible deaths.
War Museum
Today HCMC is looking forward, a city trying to pull it's foot from the mire of history to stride into a future of prosperity. There are few reminders of the conflict that immediately are visible to the casual visitor. One that is very visible is the War Remnants Museum, previously called the American War Crimes Museum. Captured American tanks, fighter planes, helicopters and other weapons litter the grounds of the compound while graphic photographic displays lay out the brutality of the conflict. Told from a decidedly different perspective than the Western, especially the American, one it is an essential visit when in Saigon. While history will debate for many years the justifications, motivations, brutalities, and blame for the Vietnam conflict, it is clear that neither side can claim complete innocence or ignorance of the many atrocities that happened. The infamous Mai Lai Massacre is well documented, and remains a stain on the reputation of the US Forces even to this day.
Perhaps less know, but possibly more devastating was the display showcasing the horrifying birth defects suffered by many Vietnamese as a result of environmental poisoning stemming from the chemical warfare used by American forces during the conflict. The nature of the agents used and the method of distribution ensured a wide spread poisoning of ground water, and natural systems
War Museum
. The effects of chemicals such as Agent Orange are still being felt today. The images on the walls are as fascinating as they are difficult to look at. The physical deformities seem straight from the imagination of a horror story.This is not to lay the blame for the conflict or atrocities committed solely on the doorstep of America. One of the things I tried consistently to get across to my students in the past is that there is very little black and white in this world. Take a group of people to the circus or a fair and ask them to describe it three days later, you will different stories from everyone. If one person has a love or phobia about clowns, that will define their experience as good or bad. An animal lover may not mention clowns at all, but will tell you in detail about the colour of the ribbons on the horses and how tall the elephants were. Fans of disturbing old fat men on tiny motorcycles will wax poetically about the Shriners. As much as it makes the less tolerant and morally firm people of the world uncomfortable, there is almost always more to a story. Ignoring or denying that fact only dooms us to continue making the same mistakes and to never make true progress in understanding other cultures or belief systems.
The Vietnamese Conflict happened for a myriad of reasons. A multitude of horrible acts and innocent victims happened to or were performed by both sides. My teenage fantasies of walking point through the jungle while "Charlie" waited in the dark, yelling "Let's rock and roll!" while opening up with a machine gun, and surfing on the beaches of Danang while helicopters fly overhead with loads of napalm remain that. The realities of my adulthood and the things I have seen on this trip and around the world make me realize how lucky I have been in my life, and feel sorry for everyone ever involved in a conflict, most of all, the non-combatants
War Museum
. When I watch the recent excursions into Gaza by Israel, or the most recent suicide bombings of Taliban forces in Afghanistan, and the killings and raping of innocents in the forests of eastern Congo and tally it with the rest of history as I know it, humanity seems an insane creature bent on destroying itself. Then I walk out into the streets of wherever I am living that week and I see mothers feeding their babies; I see monks in quiet contemplation and prayer in temples; I see local people giving to beggars while the much wealthier tourists ignore them; I see the smiles and hospitality of people to complete strangers. In these times, humanity seems a noble creature, and heaven simply a metaphor for the best of what we are capable here on earth. Do you want some insight into the schizophrenic nature of human kind? Travel in former war zones (or current ones, but for God's sake, don't be stupid). Walk the streets of Kigali in Rwanda, Goma in eastern Congo, rural areas of Ethiopia, the countryside of Nepal where the Maoist insurgency raged, or the towns and cities of Vietnam. There the paradoxes of the very best and worst of humanity, the angels and demons of our souls, become apparent. There you will see the worst we can become and the best we can be.Most people look at war, famine, and hardship and find only a reason to cry. A wise person looks at it, and can also find hope and perhaps one day, a reason to laugh again.
