"are there war museasums in ho chi minh city? i am not interested in seeing the mall..but the war related stuff...i will look on the internet and look into what there is to see related to the war...." dad emailed me this after my last post. i thought the mall was fascinating but i decided to see one of the war museums here in saigon. here ya go dad. you asked for war.

i walked down past the park that i talked about earlier. the one with the numbered trees. it's right next to the "reunification palace" where the north vietnamese tanks broke down the gates to reunify the country. after the breech of the palace, the southern president duong van minh supposedly greeted the northern general bui tin with, "i have been waiting since early this morning to transfer power to you" to which the northern general replied, "your power has crumbled. you cannot give up what you do not have". the tanks still stand inside the gates.

i made my own reunification trip from hanoi to saigon. didn't do much damage along the way though.

today i visited the war remnants in vietnam museum (formally called the war crimes museum). i didn't know exactly what to expect but knew the museum dealt with american involvement in vietnam. the day was very hot and the sky was blue. i entered the nondescript building and paid my 10,000 dong fee (75 cents).

in the first room my relatively happy day turned sour. pictures upon pictures of war tragedies. old ladies with guns held to their heads. you could see their skin was leathered and their face contorted. what must have been going through their minds. rows and rows of suspected vietcong bound hand and foot. children dead on pathways. old men crying. american troops wounded in ditches. another row of pictures displayed the victims of differing air attacks. victims of "frag bombs". laying on their sides and their backs were riddled with small pieces of debris. sitting up crying. victims of napalm attacks. their skin was charred black like an old campfire log. dead babies lying on tables. they looked like a charred mannequin. a picture of a person being thrown from a helicopter. what must they have been thinking as the wind rushed all around them and they struggled fruitlessly. a picture of a dead man dragged behind a tank. was he alive when they started dragging him? was he just a body they were taking home? did no one have a conscience?

this war was not my war. i remember it through pictures and videos. nice, well narrated documentaries about american involvement. i never saw the news. i never saw the body counts or was given a draft card. my generation has lived through television wars. clean wars. viedo game wars.

another room listed international calls for peace. there was every country you could imagine and a picture of a protest that took place there. everything from the congo, malaysia, uganda, chilie, norway, germany, italy and the us. there were the stories of the three americans that lit themselves on fire. there was the story of the american piolot that refused to fly more missions over north vietnam. by this point i was feeling exhausted.

there was another large open area that displayed american arms. there were fragments of all sorts of bombs. they had sunk into soft rice paddies and had not exploded. there were helicopters, jets and tanks. artillery, machiene guns and personel carriers. two statues cased in plexiglas caught my attention. they were replications of american soilders. one looked just like me. he was tall and had a pale face. he had dark eyebrows and a concerned look on his face. it wasn't angry. he looked right into my eyes. he held a gun out towards me. he could have been me 35 years ago. i walked around the munitions for a long time imagining them roaring through jungles and paddies. the sky darkened and started to sob. it didn't rain, it just sobbed slowly and quietly.

i walked into the final room. the first part was full of pictures of deformed babies and fetuses. there were over 75,000,000 liters of defoliants sprayed all over the countryside. 75,000,000 is a big number. babies born with part of a leg deformed the foot twisted inside as if cowering out of fear. children with faces that seem to be made of melted wax partially dripping to one side. children born with all form of brain defect. cancer. a documentary was being shown in english. the majority of peole there were korean or japanese tourists. i guess it was in english for a reason. i listened.

it interviewed person after person whose families lives were destroyed by chemicals sprayed on the countryside. the rain picked up. the roof was tin and seemed to roar. i watched for 10 minutes and saw hundreds of people. i wanted to cry. i walked into the last wing of the building. it held picture after picture of soldiers on all sides and their stories. story after story of suffering. american suffering, vietnamese suffering, laotian suffering, cambodian suffering. the rain caused the tin roof to scream. i waded through the pictures reading them all. photographers who stepped on land mines. villagers who watched their father shot. children who died while running away. children. there were american's in ditches covered in mud bleeding. mothers dragging their children across swollen streams. the tin roof moaned. i walked to the end and stood in the doorway. the little water bombs dropped on the metal tanks and exploded sending water shrapnel in all directions. people ran from building to building as if bomb shelter to bomb shelter. the rain's assault was relentless. so many people were wet.

i stood there and watched. i was sad. i felt helpless. i was ashamed that war still exists.

it didn't seem important whether i was wet or dry at this point. i had to escape the moaning and screaming of the tin roof. it was haunting me. i walked into the downpour.

i held my head low on the walk home. i was hiding from the rain's force. this museum had brought on a flurry of thoughts and emotions. the pamphlet i was given says that "nearly 3 million vietnamese were killed, and 4 million others injured..." and, "over 58,000 american army men died in the war... in retrospect, it (the museum) is not for inciting hatred, but just for learning lessons from history: human beings will not tolerate such a disaster happening again, neither in vietnam or anywhere on our planet."

this war, as i said, was not mine. the war in iraq will be mine. it will be my generation's. i don't want to visit baghdad in 35 years and see a museum dedicated to depleted uranium bombs causing cancer and deformities and daisy cutters destroying whole villages in a single swoop. i've had just about enough of our state run military machine.

i returned to my apartment, soaked to the core. i walked to the roof to think about what i had seen. the storm was passing. there were blue skys on the horizon and the sun was about to shine again.

i can only hope.

the trashcan in my bathroom proclaims: "waste basket" and underneath "happiness to everybody!". it's short and fat.

“eat more!” vs. “eat more equitably!”

this is a wonderful city. every corner is full of life. the streets flow and the sun shines. oh, it just makes you want to smile.

well, today i ambled around and looked at everything i could. i saw small ladies selling food from portable stoves on the sidewalk. i was accosted many times by petite girls selling postcards. there were many tiny coffee shops where people were sitting and chatting. i stared at the armed guards outside of the american embassy. they were vietnamese soldiers. i felt the sun all over me and could feel sweat slowly forming under my clothes. i heard motorcycle after motorcycle scream by me and weave around each other like fish swimming upstream. i smelled the must.

today, i visited the ho chi minh city mall. at home, while shopping for shoes, i told my father that i would not, thankfully, have to deal with the commercialization that unnerves me so. he said "no, there's a mall in ho chi minh city". i didn't believe him but should have. this mall is placed in the middle of town right under a large glass skyscraper. one walks in and is greeted by many well dressed koreans and japanese tourists. we all know what a mall looks like so i won't go into a description, the only thing i could observe was that it seemed more squat. everything seemed closer, tighter and shorter.

i took escalator after escalator up to the top floor admiring all of the overpriced goodies. on the top floor i was surprised to find a life-size statue of colonel sanders. his face was plastered with a smile and his white facial hair glistened on his porcelain body. his hand was outstretched and his cane was neatly tucked under his other arm. maybe he wanted me to shake his hand. i almost did but people were watching. the red and white kfc sign that i knew so well hung above his head and advertised the "mới!" (new) popcorn chicken. i didn't venture into the store. just being that close to a life-sized statue of the colonel brought back the strangest combination of feelings and thoughts. i had wished i had a pen right there.

i couldn't believe it and at the same time had expected it all along. the icy grip of western culture has crept into socialist vietnam. i won't make any judgments one way or another though there are many to me made.

i left the mall and breathed the fresh air of the street. it felt like i was leaving home again and there was something refreshing about the way the sun struck my face and made me sweat. i decided to walk to a nearby park to think about what i had seen. all the trees in this park were numbered. it was incredible. some of them were, in my estimation, 60 feet high and about as around as five fat men. they were all planted in neat rows and there was not one out of place.

i sat down and looked straight ahead. there was a billboard with uncle ho chi minh on it. there are many billboards with his face on it and his bust can be found on everything from t-shirts to watches. he led an incredible life. normally, you only see a sketch of his face but this time, you saw him walking and waving. it was incredible. his face was plastered with a smile and his white facial hair glistened on his 30 foot high body. he had on a clean white suit and looked as if he wanted me to wave to him. i would have, but didn't. he looked remarkably like the colonel. i mean, he looked so remarkably like the colonel that i wondered why i had never seen it before.

they both wore clean white pressed suits. they both has wispy facial hair, a silly grin and white, greased back hair. one said “eat more!” and the other said “eat more equitably!” if you can’t picture the similarity, just do a quick search in google. it’s incredible.

this brought a whole new range of thoughts. these men both symbolized different ideologies, drastically different ideologies yet they are similar in so many ways. i think i was struck by how someone's life can be so impacting on the world and how, upon death, people can do what they wish with your legacy. ho chi minh asked that his body be cremated upon death and scattered about vietnam. his body was embalmed and can now be seen in a huge mausoleum in hanoi. colonel sanders opened a bunch of restaurants and created a special chicken recipe. upon death, his body was made into a cartoon character that said things like "this is a slam-dunk of a deal!".

now, people either love or hate them. i think that ho chi minh was a wonderful person (uh oh). he traveled all around the world and he only wanted to see vietnam freed from colonizers. he was well read and, for his time, did what he thought was best for the people of his country. ho chi minh has become a poster boy for this country. he has a city named after him for crying out loud. now, i also hate the colonel (uh oh). i think exemplifies cultural imperialism. he has become a poster boy for globalization and i think that some aspects of globalization need to be reigned in.

there will be many people who will whole-heartedly disagree with me. some people will look at ho chi minh and see the communism that america fought. they may also look at the colonel and say, "hey, he's just trying to feed people" and, "globalization's not such a bad thing".

maybe i’m full of hooey. this whole comparison might be pointless. maybe i just need more time to think about it. there is something striking about the whole thing though. something i can’t quite put my finger on.

the day is winding down and, of course, no one has the answer. just a bunch of questions really. just a bunch of silly observations made overly important by a lonely american in ho chi minh city. maybe i look into things too much. maybe i spend too much time furrowing my brow and cocking my head this way and that. maybe you don't. who knows.

i slept today. i layed on the bed in my room and took a four hour nap. it was refreshing but there's a lot of guilt accompanied with sleeping away your first day in a new city. a lot of guilt.

i did get up to the roof of my apartment building to write and see the city. the city was teeming with life and movement. it seems to bubble and honk constantly. all the movement becomes white noise except for the occasional dog yelp that breaks the monotony. there is a huge contrast in building types. there are very large skyscrapers with their glassy sides reflecting the movement below. they are few and large. there are also many small buildings of a variety of shapes and sizes. they house families and lives and stories. i would love to be able to learn about them all. their walls are rough and old and reflect nothing. only maybe age and wisdom. they are many and small. tv antenna are everywhere. there's not a house that does not have some type of antenna strapped to some type of bamboo or metal pole all stretching towards the sky. they are all very high, much too high in my estimation. they all seem to be precariously positioned. i guess there's something special about that blue flickering. it seems to stop thought.

there was also a storm on the horizon. it was grey and moving. the other horizon was occupied by a group of clouds tinted peach by the setting sun. very peach. there was soon to be a battle for the sky over ho chi minh city. the grey storm clouds moved in, slowly, rumbling and flashing as they went. they churrned up wind that seemed to come from everywhere. one moment it would lick your face and the next moment it would lift your shirt. it seemed to hit you on the top of the head and come from your feet at the same time. vietnamese flags were all clinging to their flag poles as the storm moved. it was very angry. the clouds would roll and buildings would become more and more grey in the distance. finally things reached their climax. the storm opened itself up and dumped it's blessing. what a beautiful rain. thick and still. it rolled off of the glassy walls of the sky scrapers and collected in buckets around smaller concrete homes. the city continued to move.

tomorrow im determined to walk all over this strange city. i'm full of guilt for sleeping today but feel refreshed.

have you ever had chicken noodle soup for breakfast? i mean a really big bowl. have you ever added things to it to make it really tasty? like, greens and spicy peppers? all for breakfast. have you ever added whole pieces of chicken? with the skin on? and then have you ever added mystery meat that makes people wish they hadn't asked what part of the animal it came from? for breakfast? then did you try to eat it with chopsticks? it goes all over and slimy noodles are tough to catch between two small pieces of wood. (especially when the user isn't an expert) well, it's called phơ and people eat it all over vietnam for breakfast. that, a good strong cup of coffee, and you're ready to tackle any project.

well, i havn't written in a couple days because i was traveling through the me kong delta. we woke up early monday morning to catch a flight that happened to be only three hours late. to fend off the angry crowd, they served us airplane breakfasts in the boarding area of the airport. could you imagine about 200 people eating these small trays full of food in the hanoi airport boarding area? it was hilarious...

we flew down to ho chi minh city to be greeted by a van from the university where i'll be teaching. i began to feel like a king. i had two people accompanying me to the university where i'll be teaching and there were two more people there to pick us up. did i deserve this? i would soon be prodded off of my high horse. we arrived in long xuyen, where the universtiy is, after a 4.5 hour drive. i would be spending the next year and 8 months in this town. heralded by some of the guide books as "one of the most boring towns in vietnam".

the me kong: it's beautiful. completely gorgeous. it's a swamp and a jungle and there are rivers full to the brim with brown water. everything is so flat that one would imagine the whole world being flooded in a single, large rain. then the trees: they are tall and lanky. they are lush too. i couldn't help thinking about fighting a war in these jungles. you couldn't see someone hiding two feet in. terrifying.

we finally crossed the last river, on ferry, a dinky ferry none-the-less, and arrived just south (i believe) of long xuyen. the town was beautiful. i never would have imagined it to be so lovely. (and lovely is a wonderful way to describe it) people are going about their daily lives and roads are well paved and flat and wide. oh my, i would love to spend the next 20 months there. oh, the movement of the people. i can't describe it. something like bubbling, churning water.

the university was not what i expected though i hadn't expected anything at all. there are brown tall buildings. there is soft ground underfoot. puddles are everywhere (it's the rainy season). we were shown to our rooms because we were spending the night. oh, the rooms were not what i had hoped for. i wanted a king size bed and big bay windows overlooking active rice paddies. i wanted a small boy waiting to hand me a glass of water. maybe a monkey that came and picked some of the chewy chewy co-ca beans from the co-ca bean bush every morning would yell something nice to me. it was otherwise. you enter to find a nice place to sit and have tea. then, there's the master bedroom (chuckle). it consists of a room built inside of the bigger room. it was made of some type of plywood with a glossy finish on it. it was shorter than the original room and obviously was placed in it after the original building was built. it looked like a shoebox inside of a slightly larger box. that was the bedroom.

upon entering, i was pleased to find a small tv there and two beds. (one had the mattress overturned so i would know not to sleep there) the other bed had a small foam mattress covered by some terrifying blanket. it was made of a type of material that clung to everything. it felt so strange and strangely that, after laying on it, one was prone to question "did i just get cancer?". the bed also came with a mosquito net. i had never slept under a mosquito net and didn't know how i felt about the whole situation. it was pink. i giggled and hung it up. laying under a mosquito net (for those who have not experienced it) is very exotic and dangerous. it feels like you're on safari. it feels like something is out to get you and its attack is thwarted by a pink net. it seduces you as it drapes from the crooked nails in the wall.

we met people and it was wonderful. there are new characters in this drama, for those of you who are following along. first there was alan and louise epp. they are my country representitives and i have a very nice relationship with them. they stay in hanoi. then there is mr. wang. actually, his name is spelled mr. hoanh but it sounded like mr. wang. he's the translator and general coordinator of things. he came down on this visit. there are others, but i will try to bore as few of you as possible. now, the cast grows: first there is miss dao. she knocked me off my high horse because she constantly addressed alan epp and never looked at me. wasn't i supposed to be teaching here? she's the head of the international relations department and i get a bad feeling from her. thin, short, pale and about 45. there is miss mai. she is energetic and young. she had arranged my visa and we all went out last night and she ordered a coconut with a straw in it. hilarious. she hangs out with mr. tre. he came to pick me up at the airport and speaks good english. he loves tennis (spoke of it at least 10 times in one day) and his father owns a sporting goods shop. he works in the international relation's department as do miss dao and miss mai. they all supervise mr. jack. mr. jack is actually jack merchent from seattle washington. he's led a remarkably similar life to me, spending time in seville and now long xuyen. we have a lot in common (both were vegetarians before comming) and will be good frineds. there are more but they will all be woven into this story in their due time.

everyone is mr. this or miss that. it feels like a board game.

we spent a day and a half there and toured the facilities. it was nice. everything reminded me that i was in a jungle. no carpet, stone everywhere, soft ground, bugs and lots of heat. the air smelled of something thick.

now i'm in ho chi minh city. i'm really alone for the first time. just me and the city that hums and beeps around me. i'm renting a room on nugyễn đình chiểu street from a miss trường. tomorrow, i'll go exploring.