Table of Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1
Vietnam
Chapter 2
New Home
in Kofu
Chapter 3
Hong Kong
China,
&
Korea
Chapter 4
Yamanashi
Chapter 5
Society
Chapter 6
Hospital
Chapter 7
Nikko
Chapter 8
Holiday
Greetings
Chapter 9
Culture
Chapter 10
Holiday
Trip:
Kansai
&
Kyushu
Chapter 11
Mores
Chapter 12
Hankos
& Brush-
writing
Chapter13
Friends
Chapter 14
Festivities
Chapter 15
Okinawa
&
Nagasaki
Chapter 16
Hong Kong
&
Australia
Chapter 17
Special
People
&
Events
Chapter 18
Coming
to
Japan
Chapter 19
Letter to
Editor
Chapter 20
Teaching
English
Chapter 21 Hamamatsu
Chapter 22
Women's
Relation-
ships
Chapter 23
Reflections
on
Education
Chapter 24
Nephews'
Visit
Chapter 25
Thailand,
Korea
&
Home
Chapter 26
Taking
Stock
Chapter 1
Vietnam
August 25,1995
Dear Friends,
Here we are in Japan -- 12 flights, 6 weeks, and 5 countries from when we left home. We spent 18 days in Vietnam, a week each in China, Hong Kong and Seoul, South Korea. Tom starts teaching tomorrow and we will probably begin to get into some routine at that point.
Vietnam was an extraordinary experience. It was the highlight of the trip for each of us. It was the 20th anniversary of the end of the war and the first time since the war that tourism was open to US citizens, who were still not free travel about on their own. We were accompanied by a driver and guide everywhere we went, which was a welcome feature for us. In addition, Vietnam had just resumed diplomatic relations with the USA and the opening of the US Embassy in Hanoi was cause for celebration. Several days before our trip, a large party was held at the embassy to celebrate the 4th of July. Our guide was one of the people who were invited and she described it to us with enthusiasm.
Vietnam is a third world country caught up in a frenzy of development. It is the 12th most populous country in the world and has a per capita income of about $350. As we drove around the country and asked about various development projects the most used phrase was "joint venture". Since foreign companies cannot own anything in Vietnam, they must find a partner. This not only ensures that Vietnam controls growth, but it also paves the way for lots of corruption and the creation of a number of personal fortunes.
Our first stop was Hanoi and our most vivid impression of that city will always be of our guide, Thu Ba, and our driver, Mr. Minh, who introduced us to Vietnam.
Thu Ba was a vivacious, intelligent, charming woman in her late twenties. Wise beyond her years, she and Marie had a number of woman-to-woman talks. Her divorced parents were both university professors. Her mother works in the Department of Agriculture of a university and has been working with people from the US in developing better farming methods. Ba said that her mother was more intelligent and more successful than her father. Since Ba is the older of two daughters, her parents asked her permission to get a divorce. Ba says she believes that each of them deserves to be happy, and since they couldn't be happy with each other, she agreed that a divorce was okay. She said she was very sad for a while, but realized that her sadness was self-centered and it was time to get on with her life. Now Ba struggles with being very bright and wonders if she should put her needs on the back burner when she gets married and starts a family. Although a self-described "trouble maker" at Hanoi University, Ba was selected to go to Russia to study the language for a year. Since English is now the second language of Vietnam, she is working hard to master it.
We would like to stay in touch with Ba and have invited her to visit us in the US. She is a woman of high ideals and much integrity. And a voice of the future in Vietnam. But it was amazing to Marie how much in common the two of them had -- the middle-aged woman from the West and the young communist from Southeast Asia.
Our driver, Mr. Minh, was a much decorated soldier of the North Vietnamese army. He had a gentle soul and was deep within himself. It was obvious to both of us that he suffered from the effects of the war. At an emotional dinner, he talked a little of his feelings about war. He said every war has a winner and a loser, but when the war is over it is time to move on with life. He wanted us to know that we were welcome in his country. He told us that his daughter spoke English and that his brother was spending most of the summer in New York State studying law.
Since Mr. Minh was on the "right" side of the war, the government rewarded him with a car that he could use for earning a living. In direct contrast, the veterans we saw in the south had to eke out a living on their own and lived in relative poverty. There was evidence of this dramatic dichotomy throughout the country.
Traffic in Hanoi is indescribable. Cars, motor bikes, cyclos (bicycle rickshaws), bicycles, and pedestrians all merging at each intersection and, somehow, all reemerging on the other side like some complicated marching band routine. It all works out because everyone observes the unwritten rules and acts with a patient understanding of others.
We were struck by the extreme poverty juxtaposed with TV antennas on even the meanest dwellings. And in the heat of the summer people often sleep outside on their front stoops or on the sidewalks, because it is cooler than being indoors.
During our time in Vietnam we witnessed only two arguments and heard one baby crying. Everywhere we went people seemed patient and friendly. There were many overt expressions of affection among adults and children, toward each other and toward us. Our guide frequently held Marie's hand and often touched each of us. She cried when we left, saying she was sad to see us leave.
We saw all of the requisite sights in Hanoi, but it was the personal touches that will remain with us. The guard at Ho Chi Minh's mausoleum flirting with our guide while we waited solemnly to see Ho's body (wax?) .... Mr. Minh's reluctance to take us to the infamous prison, the "Hanoi Hilton" (which is being demolished to make way for a joint venture luxury hotel) .... the place where Senator McCain was captured and destined to remain a POW for five and a half years .... Ba conveniently neglecting to take us to the American war crimes section of the War Museum.
Vietnam is a beautiful country with much breathtaking scenery and a land of many surprises. From Hanoi we drove to Halong Bay, the area where the movie "Indochine" was filmed. We thought we would be going for about an hour trip, but spent over 6 hours cruising the bay .... with one view more spectacular than the next. During our excursion we explored some caves including a newly discovered one. The people who discovered it could claim it and charge admission for 3 months, at which time it would become the property of the government. (We were constantly reminded that it is a communist country, but it did not feel as repressive as China)
It was at our hotel at Halong Bay where we encountered our only experience with rude behavior. For some reason the women who worked at the hotel acted as if they didn't like us. Service in the restaurant was slow, we were stared at and, when we couldn't figure out the hot water system, they regarded us with contempt. We finally took solace in assuming that they thought we were either French or Russian tourists! We had been warned about that in The Lonely Planet, our reliable guide. We were supposed to have learned how to say, "I am not Russian," in Vietnamese. Unfortunately, we had neglected to do so.
Our guide for this part of the trip was Mr. Hung, a man about thirty who was sad that he is still single. He explained to us that it costs a lot of money to get married, and a man has to have enough money for an apartment before he can get married. This was a theme that was repeated by other young male guides during our trip. Mr. Hung, like all of our guides and drivers, seemed very eager to learn all that he could about America and would write down any new English word that we could introduce to him.
From Hanoi we flew to Danang where we were met by our guide, Mr.Tin, and our driver, Mr. Deng. We stayed at a hotel near China Beach for three days. The hotel was advertised as being on China Beach, but it was a mile or so away. No Americans are allowed on the actual site, though we were not supposed to know that. During our stay in this area we explored Marble Mountain and My Son, and visited Hoi An (an ancient capital of Vietnam), before driving to Hue.
A typical exchange:
"Bonjour"
Us - "Good morning"
"Hello"
Us - "Hello"
"Where you from?"
Us - "America"
"Ah - totally awesome."
Although this greeting occurred on the beach early in the morning, and was initiated by some children, similar greetings met us everywhere we went in Vietnam.
Also each of our guides greeted us with flowers - Mr. Tin picked his from his father's garden in Hue. They came with the message.
Lady & Sir Grant, I do not have anything to offer you but the heart and some roses picked up from my parents' garden. Please keep them as luck along your next trip.
More about Tin .... A reincarnated mandarin with PTSD from his war experiences. Our first impression was not positive ... overbearing and arrogant .... he even had one-half inch long fingernails on his little fingers, in the tradition of Chinese intellectuals. After a day, when we were all more relaxed, we learned that he was a prolific reader and a philosopher who wanted to tell us all that he knew about Vietnamese history and culture (although a slightly sanitized version did emerge). Later he told us that he was especially eager to please us because we were both teachers.
He was a student, majoring in American literature, during the war and was able to avoid the military service. In fact, he seemed to have an enjoyable, carefree student life, until Danang was overrun by the Vietcong. He tried to get on a boat to escape, but there was no room for him. He was married shortly after that and did not attempt to leave again. He told us that he loves his wife and children very much and has no desire to leave Vietnam now. Although he managed to survive that difficult time at the end of the war, he did not speak English for 15 years in order to avoid suspicion. He still did not feel secure in the new society and felt it would be risky to take us to see his father, who served in the South Vietnamese government.
Tin has a sister in the USA and a brother in Canada. His father seems to be an exceptional man. He is totally deaf but, in his 80's, completed a lengthy trip to the U.S. and Canada to see his family. He speaks no English but is fluent in French. To aid him on his journey Tin made his father a sign, "I am deaf. I understand French."
Tin told us more about geomancy than we ever cared to know, but it is important in understanding the Asian concept of balance and harmony (yin/yang). All structures have to be placed harmoniously with their surroundings. This could mean having a series of buildings constructed in a north/south axis or locating a tomb where a mountain and a river were suitably situated.
Tin wanted to learn from us as much as teach us. When he stopped needing to impress us with his knowledge and he became more relaxed, he gave us a view of Vietnam that we wouldn't have gotten from our younger guides. Among other things he told us that both the North and the South were happy about normalization with America, but that there is no resolution between the North and the South. That is what we experienced also. We told him that in many ways it was the same in the US even though the Civil War was 130 years ago!
The trip from Danang was truly breathtaking - the Hai Van Pass is at least as impressive as any vista we have seen in Europe.
While in Hue we stayed in a hotel on the Perfume River and went on a day-long cruise.Among the more interesting sights were the boat people. They live their entire life on small fishing boats. Among other methods for earning a meager living, they harvest sand from the bottom of the river to sell for brick making at construction sites. The work involves repeated dives to the river bed to fill their buckets which they dump into the bottom of the boat. When they have enough sand they transport it to the buyer. A boat load would sell for approximately $5.00. We cannot tell you how tedious this looked, and it involved children as well as the adults in a family. The poverty of the people was a dramatic contrast to the beauty of the river.
Among other tourist sites in the area of Hue are the Citadel, the ancient capital of Hoi An and some good shopping. The Citadel is where the emperor and the imperial court lived. It is designated as an international cultural site by UNESCO and was heavily damaged during the war. In Hoi An we had a real tourist meal at tourist prices, saw a Japanese bridge, and the ancient home that belonged to our guide's grandparents, complete with the Buddhist shrine. Tin has a vision of turning Hoi An into a Vietnamese version of Williamsburg.
Back in Hue we bought a silk outfit from an English teacher who told us that she earns $36 a month as a teacher -- working in the silk store was her summer job.
From Hue we spent a day on a tour of the DMZ. Here we had to add an additional guide to our entourage. We believe that was for two reasons. It helped to spread the wealth and provide more jobs. Also, it made certain we would only get the "party line" regarding this area. Tin, normally garrulous, was quiet throughout the tour.
On this day as well as many others, we found that people were intrigued with Marie's working in the VA, wanted to know what US veterans` experiences were and how they were continuing to be affected. We also learned that while the US has about 1200 MIAs, the Vietnamese have over half a million. There is no accounting for the number of lives that were lost in Vietnam during the war, but more than half of the present population is under the age of 20. Also, everywhere we traveled in the country there were memorials and cemeteries for the soldiers from the North who died in the war -- but of course none for those from the South. In the one cemetery we walked through most of the graves were marked "unknown".
Also, throughout the country, people paid a great deal of attention to Tom and assumed that he was a returning GI, who had been injured in the war. He was about the right age, and his limp from polio made this seem plausible. In the North and South people were quite open in asking him about his limp, and were welcoming and warm. This was contrary to what we might have expected in the North.
The tour of the DMZ was one of our more emotional parts of the trip. We walked a bit on the Ho Chi Minh trail, saw the Thach Han Bridge where prisoners of both sides were exchanged per the Paris Agreement, saw Camp Carroll, visited the "Rockpile" where the US military manned radar and directed artillery barrages, and Khe Sanh Airfield, where locals are still digging for scrap metal. Occasionally, they find live ammunition so it is quite dangerous. It was at Khe Sanh where children tried to sell us dog tags from American soldiers who died there. Before evacuating Khe Sanh, the U.S. moved, blew up or buried everything they had taken in. The largest hole at the site now is where scavengers discovered an entire bulldozer that the American forces had buried.
We said "Goodbye," to Tin and our driver in Hue and promised to keep in touch. We told Tin that we would send him a book related to his passion for universal symbolism. Tom had a particular Joseph Campbell book in mind. Our parting gift to him was a novel that Marie had been reading. Tin would read it first to make certain there was nothing objectionable in it, and then he was going to give it to his daughter to read so she could practice her English. He was most appreciative.
From Hue we flew to Dalat, a city that is set in a beautiful area that has been turned into a carnival atmosphere - tacky, tacky, tacky. It is called the "Paris of Vietnam" because of its beauty. Well ... maybe not Paris, but it could be a lovely area to visit. Instead, it's where you will find "Dalat Cowboys" -- men who dress like Western cowboys (to lead children on horse rides) -- and numerous gaudy souvenirs. It was also in Dalat that we had our only expensive meal in Vietnam. It was at a Franco-Vietnamese joint venture hotel named the Dalat Palace — so very elegant -- we were the only guests and half a dozen staff members practiced their serving skills. The food was excellent and so was the view and, of course, the service. At the time, when we had been to many dirty, questionable restaurants for very cheap meals it didn't seem like $120 was too much to pay for a meal! Tom's Scotsman's heart did not even skip a beat.
In spite of the price and service, it certainly was not our favorite meal. There were many others where our guides took us to sample traditional Vietnamese food. We both enjoyed the country's cuisine. Our favorite was the shrimp and crab meal we had on our trip from Danang to Hue. Besides the shrimp (4 dozen) and crabs (2 dozen), we had fresh local fish and numerous other side dishes -- a regular feast -- all for $14 for the four of us.
During one of our afternoons in Dalat we were taken to two villages of minority people. It appears that tourists aren't the only ones exploiting these poor people. As we approached the villages, we stopped at the local police station to acquire "special permission" to enter the area. The police are there supposedly to protect the minority people from outsiders, but It seemed to be a way for local authorities to make a little extra money from the tourist traffic.
At the first village we were received by the Catholic priest who let us sample some of his homemade blackberry wine. To our relief it was very tasty. Later we visited a home where the husband offered us some of his homebrew .... rice wine stored in a narrow-necked clay pot. He inserted a small rubber hose and we took turns sipping the aged liquid. It tasted pretty good, but we had no interest in looking into the container to see what we were drinking. (This man told us that he had shared his wine with American soldiers during the war. He had fond memories of the soldiers.)
Later, we went to the home of a couple, both over 100 years old. The man treated us to a song on a panpipe-like instrument he had made. Our guide kept telling us to take pictures, but we felt that we had already violated their dignity enough just by entering their home. (We also declined taking pictures of the "only living eunuch" whom we met in Hue at the tomb of Vietnam's last emperor.) However, when we left their home we did give them a small amount of money to thank them for their hospitality and music.
At the second village we were greeted by a crowd of children and women anticipating our visit. From down the road we could see them advancing with samples of locally woven products. We were quietly besieged by a crush of people holding up their handicrafts. We were supposed to buy something -- but what? From whom? We bought two items, one from a child and one from an elderly woman. Beautifully hand-crafted items, but without any useful purpose we could think of. All in all, an unsettling experience.
Our guide for the final portion of our trip (from Dalat to Saigon) was like traveling with a tape recorder. He had a spiel that seemed very rehearsed and he was not going to stray from the acceptable text. He and our driver were both from Hanoi, working for Hanoi Travel in Ho Chi Minh City. Therefore, unlike Thu Ba who was from Hanoi and has a distinct personality, and Tin, who was showing us his hometown and homeland, Khoi did not like where he was living and he was doing work that he was not enthusiastic about.
When we were in Dalat, a Buddhist monk stopped us to discuss an English assignment he was working on for a course. He wanted out views on a passage from a Henry James essay that he had to discuss in his next class. We weren’t sure what it meant, but it didn’t take long to figure out that he really was more interested in telling us what he thought about it. He also wanted to discuss communism, the US, the universal corruption of power, his own experience of the war,etc.. He didn’t fit the stereotype of a Buddhist ascetic, but might have been in the mode of the politically active monks during the war. He was quite interesting, but it was obvious that Khoi, our guide, was uncomfortable with our talking with him. After we walked away, he said, "I was told not to discuss politics." Khoi was very conscientious, informative, pleasant enough -- we were just spoiled by our previous guides who were much more personable.
So, after a couple of days, we gave him a day off and had our friendly, cyclo drivers give us a real tour of Saigon. Our drivers talked to us of their personal lives and gave us an inside view of the city. It was a day well spent. We were sorry to read in the papers that cyclo drivers were soon going to have to be licensed and that most would be without jobs. At that point they all freelance and it about the only work that they could find. Most of them were veterans of the South Vietnamese military. While our driver in the North had been given a car by the government to reward him for his service, the vets from the South have an entirely different set of circumstances. This contrast was more striking evidence of the vast difference between the North and the South.
Our final destination in Vietnam was Ho Chi Minh City, still known as Saigon by everyone in the South. From there we took trips to the Mekong Delta, Cao Dai Holy Land, and the Cu Chi tunnels. In the city we had a drink on the roof of the Rex Hotel made famous by the media during the war, looked at the boarded up former US Embassy from every angle, took a tour of the Reunification Palace, visited Cholon (China Town) with crowds greater than we could have imagined.
On our cruise through the Mekong Delta we were reminded of all the activities there during the war. The water was muddy, in contrast to the clear, blue water we saw elsewhere in the country. Along the banks there was lush growth, and water coconuts were plentiful.
Mekong Delta -- Notice the brown Mekong River
It was during our trip on the Mekong River that we were taken to a small island where we were treated to fresh fruit from the local trees. Indeed, eating tropical fruit was one of our favorite activities in Vietnam. We found fresh fruit daily in our hotel rooms, along with freshly cut flowers. One fun experience was buying a fresh pineapple for 20 cents and eating the whole thing between the two of us. Another time we found an unusual fruit in our room. It had a thick peel, and Tom attacked it with his Swiss Army knife to no avail. Only later did we discover that it was a coconut. We were supposed to puncture it and sip the milk with a straw. Of course, we felt stupid. But after all of the exotic fruit we had tasted and seen, it was little wonder that this one seemed strange also.
Visiting the Cu Chi tunnels, where the Vietcong hid from the U.S. forces and waged war against them, was made memorable by a sadistic Vietnamese army guide who seemed to take delight in seeing how long foreigners could stay in the tunnels without panicking. Tom took a medical deferment from touring the tunnels, while Marie braved two of them. A few tunnels have been enlarged for the tourist industry but still they convey the sense of what it must have been like to live and move in that confined dark network. The army runs this attraction and they begin the tour by showing a propaganda film which leaves the impression that the war against the U.S. military in the Saigon area was waged by cute, teenaged, patriotic Vietnamese girls.
We viewed the most reminders of the war in Saigon, and we both felt a powerful mix of feelings. We saw many men with war injuries. One young man who we saw often during our five days in the city was 31 years old, had both of his arms and his lower right leg blown off in the war in Danang when he was 11 years old. He haunted us and we gave him money the last day we were there. We made friends with little children and two cyclo drivers. These were the real people of Vietnam -- all made us welcome and wanted to know something about us. We didn't have any problem with pick pockets and we got used to the children and adults who hounded us to buy something. In spite of the horrible poverty, our overriding impression was that of spirit and energy. Even the man with no legs who maneuvered from a platform and polished Tom's shoes smiled as he interacted with us and when he was musing to himself.
In Chinatown (Cholon) Tom was curious to see the Catholic church where U.S.-backed President Diem and his brother were arrested in 1963. We took a cyclo ride to the church and were wandering around when a priest, with a maniacal laugh, decided to give us a tour. It wasn't enough to show us the pew where the brothers were sitting at the time of their arrest. No, Tom had to go up to the belfry to get a grand view of Chinatown. Up wooden steps, a shaky ladder, under the bell and Tom indeed had a great view of the whole district. The priest was thoughtful enough to want to record the event, but in his excitement and confusion in using our camera, he managed to destroy an entire roll of film.
This incident occurred after we had discovered that the shutter on Tom's camera was broken and seventeen rolls of film were ruined. A kindly merchant in Saigon fixed the camera for $20 and then fixed it again (gratis) the same day after we dropped it. That was the worst of our mishaps and near-mishaps. Others included (1)leaving the video camera in a shop in one town and discovering it later in the day when we were in another town (our guide called the shop and they kept it for us to retrieve later), (2) leaving Tom's camera in the car overnight, (Our driver gave it to us the next morning), (3) Marie's burning her leg on the muffler of the motorcycle she was riding when we visited My Son (the young girl driver treated it with a homemade salve of spit and toothpaste); it healed in about a week, (but we did clean it and put Neosporin on it when we got back to our hotel); (4) our first driver accidentally backed the wheel of the car over Tom's bad foot (he didn't feel a thing and it never bothered him!); (5) while in Hong Kong we were assailed by a typhoon but it was almost fun as we knew we were safe in the hotel, and we were ready to rest for the next leg of our trip.
Well, it's time to end this letter. More will follow, but at the moment we are in the middle of the worst heat wave to hit Japan in a century and our one and only fan is working overtime. Tomorrow Tom begins school. We are sending this letter to Robin to duplicate and distribute to those who said they wanted to hear from us. Also, we would like to hear from all of you.
Love,
Tom and Marie
Update 1999:
Since returning home we have continued to correspond with Thu Ba and Tin. Ba was married last year and sent us pictures of her wedding. We wanted to send her a wedding gift and wondered how we could do that. We talked to the Vietnamese Embassy in Washington DC and were told to send it through the regular mail. However, we know that there is no guarantee that she will get it. We would really like to send money but have figured out no way that we can do that. We are hoping to see Ba again and remember her fondly.
We correspond with Tin several times a year. When we first arrived home we sent him a Joseph Campbell book. He received it about 6 months later. More than a year ago we sent him another book about symbolism. We believe that he has not received it.
We wonder about our friends there and how the changes are affecting them. Although it appeared that the country was opening up when we were there, it seems as if the opposite is true. Maybe we will be able to go back sometime to see if the feel of the country has changed. Of course our friends cannot tell us how things are in Vietnam. It would be too risky to discuss politics. Besides their letters would be censored or not delivered at all.
