Good morning, Vietnam
Trip Start
Jul 15, 2007
1
125
195
Trip End
Jul 16, 2008
Hanoi,
Vietnam
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Like many of my generation, I've got some history with Vietnam. My parents were standard-issue highly-educated 1960s liberals, subscribers to both the New Yorker and The New York Times, haters of Richard Nixon, regular watchers of public TV. So was I, except for the last - I much preferred Star Trek. Of course we were all opposed to the war.
Sometime in the late 1960s or early 1970s, while living in northern New Jersey, I drove with my father down to Washington DC to participate in the Vietnam War Moratorium, a huge unruly protest gathering on the Washington Mall. The two most memorable events of the protest for me were the faraway sight of a young woman removing her shirt to get some sun on her braless chest, and the takeover of a small truck selling cups of Coca-Cola by a gang of bearded radicals
Uncle Ho's Mausoleum
. Several of them climbed to the top of the truck, formed a line, and began doing hitch-kicks while chanting, "One-two-three-four, we don't want your f*****g war!" Another do-it-yourself socialist broke into the truck, opened the syrup cans, and began doling out conical paper cups of coke syrup to anyone nearby. "Free Coke, man! Free Coke!" The truck's owner stood miserably nearby, evidently under some kind of impromptu house arrest. Of course cola syrup on a hot day, even at no charge, is cloying, much less pleasant than actual Cokes with ice sold by someone who knows how to operate the equipment.
I was horrified watching this. "Dad! They're stealing!"
My father explained that it was all a justified response to Nixon's lies about the war. "You have to understand, James. They are angry, and they have a right to be. You can't blame them for doing this."
"But they're stealing," I said again. I didn't get the connection between public policy and disorderly private larceny, didn't like the bearded guy sticking his dirty hand into the can of syrup, didn't like the profanity of the noisy chorus line on top of the van
Guards
.I suspect this was one of the events that lay dormant in my memory, and years later helped turn me from a McGovern liberal into a Reagan conservative.
Back to Vietnam, now that you know some of my relevant history. This morning our guide Lam met us at the hotel and drove us to the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum here in Hanoi. Uncle Ho, as the Vietnamese evidently call him (he actually looks a good bit like a thinner version of Colonel Sanders), is the founder of modern socialist Vietnam and the nation's principal hero. He declared Vietnam's independence in 1945, led the country through more than three decades of war against the Japanese, French and Americans, and died in 1969 just six years before the final victory of North Vietnam over the South in 1975.
The Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum was not open at the time of our visit, sparing the kids the sight of a long-embalmed corpse. The building is a typical Soviet-style massive block, on the edge of an enormous plaza. Banners alongside proclaim the eternal nature of socialism in Vietnam in immense red-on-white letters.
As I was taking a picture of the Mausoleum, I noticed a very familiar-looking piece of paper on the pavement
Socialism in one country?
. I walked over and picked up an ad circular for Dell computers, apparently identical to the ones that arrive in Sunday newspapers back home. On closer inspection I saw that the ad, though all in English, quoted prices in RM. Careful study revealed that the ad was for Dell's division in Malaysia, aimed at English speakers in that country.An English-language ad from the Malaysian division of an American company, found in officially-socialist Vietnam. Is Uncle Ho turning over in his grave, or what? Was he really more nationalist than communist, or vice versa?
In any case, off next to a delicious lunch of pho, the national dish of Vietnam - long-simmered beef and marrow stock, flavored with herbs and spices, dished up with noodles and thin slices of both rare and well-done beef. Jack was the only one who tried the beef broth. The others had vegetable or chicken broth.
A drive to a camera repair store to get the grit off my image sensor, a stop at the local grocery for snacks, a visit to an art gallery, and back to the hotel. Tonight we had dinner at a restaurant whose specialty is horse. I quietly put aside the table placard explaining in English the many tasty ways to prepare Flicka, and made sure we ordered only more-familiar meats.
We learned after dinner that our guide will not be with us after today, as his brother is severely ill and in hospital. We offered hopes and prayers for a full recovery, and went inside to bed. Tomorrow to Halong Bay.
