Category: Photos

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Rest, Relaxation and Raging

Rest, relaxation, and raging are all highlights of Thailand’s Koh Samui Island, and during my several days here, that is exactly what is on the agenda. Between lying on the beach to getting massages to eating fabulous food, life is relatively easy along this turquoise coastline. For a small dose of adventure, Nithya, Sangita and I parasail one afternoon above said coastline and enjoy the postcard-like view from another perspective.

Chaweng Beach, Koh Samui

Curry in Koh Samui

Parasailing in Thailand

The nightlife of the islands is young, exciting and bucket-filled. In Thailand, a bucket refers to a plastic beach bucket filled with vodka, red bull, and coke. Drink substitutions are fair game such as whiskey instead of vodka or sprite instead of coke. Although not the most delicious cocktail, its goal is clear and is usually met. Trying these buckets only in an attempt to embrace our surroundings, the three of us had a month’s worth of excitement one night on a nearby island, Koh Phangan as many came out to celebrate April’s full moon.

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Koh Samui, Thailand

Upon arriving at the “boutique” airport on the island, I soon meet up again with Nithya and Sangita, the same two with whom I had my quick yet full morning in Bangkok just a week ago. I arrive at our hotel, Chewang Tara, owned by the nicest family complete with grandparents and a 2-month year old, and then we have quick showers and enjoy a couple minutes of air-conditioning relief before heading out to to the beach to the find dinner. Although already dark, the beach is beautiful, the food delicious, and the mood just right. The next couple days are going to be some of the most relaxing of the trip.

Nithya, Sangita and me

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The American War, Revisited

The two spots I wanted to visit while in Saigon were the Cu Chi Tunnels, where the Viet Cong guerrillas hid during combat, and the War Remnants Museum. Both sites left a strong impression. I felt guilty though I played no role, ignorant though the extent of the American atrocities were not taught in school, embarrassed though I did nothing wrong, confused though the photographs told a clear story, and depressed though grateful for the exposure. I recognized I was being shown only one side of the story provided by the victors in their own country; however, even when recognizing a strong bias with prejudiced language, many of the truths of the war were evident.

While visiting the Cu Chi Tunnels, the tour began with an informational video. In the video I learned of the Vietnam “heros” and the American “angry white devils”. I learned of the Vietnamese struggle for independence, freedom and peace, and of their fearless sacrifices and hardships to achieve those goals. And although it was one-sided, I was able to filter truth out of what was being said. Crawling through these tunnels and realizing how much the Viet Cong suffered from the cramped spaces and high levels of malaria also reinforced their strong will to win the American War.

The American atrocities during the war, however, did not become frighteningly clear until my visit to the War Remnants Museum. Here, among other aspects of the war, I learned much about the American’s widespread use of chemicals including the infamous Agent Orange, which included dioxin. The American’s used Agent Orange as a defoliant to expose areas under the thick jungle canopy; however, the Dioxin has had horrendous effects up to the present time in Vietnam. The Vietnamese government claims overs 4,000,000 victims of this devastating toxin although the US still denies scientific evidence linking Agent Orange and the victims of dioxin poisoning. That said, the list of cancers, diseases, and birth defects caused by dioxin is too numerous to list. In addition, along with the use of Agent Orange, the Americans also used non-targeted bombs such as cluster bombs whose damage spread to both military personnel and civilians.

The War Remnants Museum powerfully told this story through photographs. Photos of children born with birth defects. Photos of people with limbs missing and with faces disfigured. Photos of women and children dead and lying on top of each other.

In addition, I visited the museum with Serhat from Australia who I met at the Cu Chi Tunnels, and with Hoa, my new Vietnamese friend studying in Saigon. An American together with a Vietnamese viewing the photographs throughout the museum heightened the impact of the experience. Hoa was so welcoming and so kind to me, and at the same time, we were both seeing images of how people from my country hurt those from hers. Knowing there was little I could do at the time, I focused on learning as much as I could from the photos and stories presented by the museum. This day forced me to see the American War from the victor’s perspective, and I felt obliged to do so considering it was the least I could do given what I learned.

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From The Calm to The City

Getting into Saigon was a shock after my time in central Vietnam. The paddy fields were replaced with buildings and the rivers with roads. However, the bustle of the city was made more manageable as I toured around with my new friend, Hoa on her motorbike. She showed me the post office with its elaborate French architecture, we toured the South Vietnam wartime headquarters, and she helped me haggle my way through the night market of District 1. Saigon is a young vibrant city with parks full of activity and a busy nightlife. Unfortunately, part of the youngness of the city is the fault of the American War in that much of a generation died within those years.

Learning Hoa’s university student perspective on Saigon was a perfect way to end my Vietnam tour. Similar to the other Vietnamese I met, she was both proud of the culture and excited to share it. The perfect example of this was with traditional Vietnamese food. Hoa brought me a special dish along with some ca phe (Vietnamese coffee), which I had ordered at any and every opportunity. In short, the big city of Saigon felt smaller and friendlier thanks to Hoa.

Hoa and me

Later that evening, Hoa and I went to listen to Anh Tuyet sing Trinh Cong Son in a concert to remember this famous composer’s death 10 years ago. The concert was relaxing and I enjoyed listening to Hoa and the others around me sing along with some of the more famous tunes. As a change of pace from the last week, the culture I experienced in Saigon was less of the old traditional Vietnamese culture, and more of the current and live arts culture. Interestingly, at the end of the performance, everyone sang a song recognizing the unification and cooperation of the Vietnamese people. When trying to compare this experience to something in U.S., my first thought was that of my school’s fight song that plays after the performances leading up to our big rivalry football game, the only difference being that our fight song ironically has less of a marching feel.

Attempting to cross the street in Saigon

Again, I thank Hoa and all of the friendly Vietnamese I have met that made me feel so welcome. As I mentioned before, especially in situations such as these, I feel so fortunate to have had the experiences and to have met the people that I did.

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Vietnamese Countryside Craft

While in Hoi An and in central Vietnam, I wanted to see what the goings-on are of the countryside. I found a bicycle tour that would take me around the islands adjacent to Hoi An and explain some of the local craft and handy skills. While on the tour, I saw wood steam-bending, shell cutting, wood carving, mat weaving, water freezing, brick manufacturing, peanut and rice picking, and basket boat making.

Boat Building

Wood and shell carving

Peanut picking

Brick making

In a basket boat

Boat scene along the bike ride

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My Son and The Boys

My Son is a Vietnamese name for a cluster of temple ruins that bears no relation to its English meaning. The phrase “the boys”, however, is intended to have exactly its American connotation.

In an attempt to avoid the tourists at My Son, I left in the mid-afternoon from Hoi An and pay a motorbike driver less than it would’ve cost for gasoline in my Prius to take me to My Son. On our way, we fly through narrow roads surrounded by rice fields and farmland, and during the hour drive, I learn the smells of Vietnam. I smell exhaust on the road, trash burning next to it, incense sticks, and occasionally fresh air. When we arrive to My Son, it was just as I had hoped and there are less than 10 tourists wandering through a space that could accommodate many more and still feel empty.

My Son black and white

With my camera in one hand and the Kindle version of Lonely Planet in the other, I navigate my way through the ruins trying to come with the perfect photo while still learning which building was intended for which purpose. After covering about half of the ruins, I find a group sitting in a circle and listening to music. It is unclear how everything progressed, but I soon find myself in their circle, we compare music tastes, and we share our snacks. I learn that they are all currently attending a university in a near-by town, De Nang, and are just visiting the ruins as an afternoon break from school. A couple snacks later, they ask my evening plans, I tell them none, and we decide that they should come back with me to Hoi An. Throughout it all, we communicate either very slowly in English or by writing notes to each other. They could understand almost anything I wrote despite having some trouble understanding me verbally.

Snacks at My Son

Between the five of them and me, we pile on four motorbikes and work our way back. I was particularly happy not to be driving at this point as the sky was turning black with only the almost full moon, the occasional street light, and the bikes less-than-powerful headlight to drive by. We get back to town, and the first thing we do is eat. I am not entirely certain what I am eating because we eat next to the street on what seemed light children’s red play furniture. The food was good and cheap. Dinner cost less than $0.50 per person. With full stomachs, we walked the streets of Hoi An, before coming across another inexpensive and local restaurant. We ordered beers, some fried food, and I took out my deck of cards. I let them teach me a new game because with our communication barriers, 5 teaching 1 is clearly superior to 1 trying to teach 5. During the rest of the night, I really enjoy the game and their company.

Card Games in Hoi An

The Vietnamese, both tonight with the boys and the other day with Quynh Chi, have been so welcoming and warm to me. In twenty years, I think it will be these faces that I will remember the most about my time in Vietnam.

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Hoi An, Vietnam

Hoi An was just a short bus ride south of Hue.  The food, feel and architecture of Hoi An reflects its many influences of Chinese, Japanese, Dutch, and Indian styles. This is especially true of Chinese and Japanese because for many years, they both regarded Hoi An as one of the best trading towns in all of Southeast Asia. And although the town’s prominance fell after the collapse of the Nguyen Dynasty, at which point the nearby town of Da Nang became a center for trade, Hoi An has escaped much of the damage that many other historical Vietnamese sites have seen over the last century.

Hoi An Chinese flag

Shop in Hoi An

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Hue, Vietnam

The Imperial City, Hue’s main attraction, reminded me of a beaten up Beijing Forbidden City. It’s grandeur, size and elaborate architecture were obvious despite the natural disasters and bombs that have left this great relic only a fraction what it might be. Between 1802 and 1945, the Imperial City was the capital of the Nguyen Dynasty.

Front gates of Imperial City

After a visit to the forbidden city, I walked the smaller, less touristy streets, and took a short ride on a boat down the Song Huong (Perfume River).

Perfume River

On a different note, the mix of influences from French to Chinese was clear from the variation in architecture around the city.  This photo is the view from my bedroom window.

Hue bedroom view

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The Kids Table

As I travel and search for new cultural experiences, I want to try the local foods, see how different people lead their lives, and start to understand the world as they do. Having dinner with Quynh and her family is this authentic experience. I arrive at her home complete with a small store front, several bedrooms, a kitchen, a small dining room, a chicken pen, and her big family. Quynh has 4 other sisters, all of whom live at home with their father, mother, grandparents, and two dogs. The newest addition to the family at only 6 months old is Susu. When I arrive, I meet most of the players as we all congregate in the front while the father mans the store of cigarettes, snacks, and drinks.

My Hue Family

Hue Grandparents

After a tour of the home, much playing with the baby, and getting to the know the family while using a couple of the sisters as translator’s, it is time for dinner. At this point, one of the sister’s boyfriends also enters the scene, making dinner a crowded occasion. As would happen in my family, the adults sit at one table and the kids sit at another. The parents and grandparents sit in the dining room, while the kids sit outside around a small table.

The food is traditional and at times, too traditional. I try everything on the table, and as I am eating, the five sisters continue adding more to my plate. Most of the dishes I enjoy even if I have little idea what it is I’m actually consuming, and half way through the meal, I realize not knowing is probably easier than knowing. One of the sisters puts something in my plate, and because they like to joke and try to mislead me, I assume when they say it’s a pig’s tail, they are trying to get a reaction out of me. I give them their reaction as my face cringes, but I learn that they are not joking and slowly work my way around the cartilage in the center of the tail.

The night ends where it began, in the front near the street. We drink tea, laugh, and learn about each others’ cultures and customs while I thank them repeatedly for their hospitality using the new Vietnamese vocabulary I learned during the day. Half jokingly, one of Quynh’s sisters keeps questioning me if I want to take Quynh back to the States with me. I respond with an uncomfortable smile and an enthusiastic yes. The follow up question is then do I want to take one of the other sisters back with me. Again I smile, blush, and respond that the whole family should come to California. They all laugh at me, and I feel relieved. Before leaving, we arrange ourselves in many permutations for a quick photo shoot so that we all can remember the night.

More than the inspiring sites and adrenaline-pumping activities, it is experiences like these that are making traveling so exciting.

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My Hue Tour Guide

I’m on a flight to Hue and sitting next to two Hue locals, Quynh and her grandfather. Although only a short flight, through broken English, Quynh and I have enough time to cover the basics– names, jobs, home towns, and families. And before parting ways, we make a tentative plan to meet up the next day and she gives me her contact info. A couple dollar SIM card later, I give her a call and we set up a time for her to come pick me up on her motorbike from the very simple and nice Hong Thien Hotel (the first A/C room I’ve enjoyed in two weeks). Still not convinced that she is actually coming, I wait outside and soon after she pulls up with an extra helmet in hand.

Me and Quynh
Quynh, her motorbike, and me

We go to a couple of the more famous pagados and tombs in Hue before visiting her mother and sisters at the local market, where they tend to two different shops. Trying to keep up with Quynh in the market is a challenge as she weaves in and out of the many obstacles of the already narrow passageways. At one point, she and her sister run off and I am left sitting alone at the booth. I am tempted to attract customers in the many ways that I have experienced. As someone passes by, protocol is to tell them hello and ask where they are from or what they are looking for. I did not say anything; I restrained myself.

Although her English is fragmented, Quynh gives me Vietnamese language lessons throughout the day so that I can at least communicate hello, goodbye, and thank you. She shows me her favorite sites in the city with pride and excitement for each location. Quynh is an excellent tour guide, and to complete the day, she invites me back to her family’s home for dinner, which results in a very authentic Hue experience.

Bell ringing in Hue