Happy Liberation Day?

This morning I arrived in Hanoi and am staying in the Old Quarter, a very nostalgic part of the city that makes you feel like you're in the middle of some late 1800's novel. It's not terribly different than Saigon, but the streets are a bit smaller, the buildings have fewer stories, and trees outline the streets. It's very charming.

People here are also incredibly nice. Not much more of a reaction when I tell them I am American than a smile and a nod, but really, what do I expect?

This morning I made my way to the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum complex. I had to send my bag through a security check and then leave it at a desk before entering the building. The line was absolutely massive -- it stretched probably 200m out the door. But today is Liberation Day and everyone has the day off work. The wait was only about 10 minutes, though, because all you do is walk in and walk out. Well, there are guards at every corner that direct you through a cool and dimly lit hallway, up a cool and dimly lit staircase, and around a cool and dimly lit corner into the room where the remains of Ho Chi Minh himself rest (contrary to his death wishes, I might add). Children are escorted to the front where there is a ramp about 6in high so they can see. Everyone else is filed into two lines by the guards and again, there are guards at every corner of the room, pulling you by your arm if you fall behind. And yes I fell behind. Ho Chi Minh is just laying inside this case and is incredibly well-preserved; if I didn't know any better I'd have thought he was just sleeping. Anyways you enter through the back and walk along three sides of the glass case where he rests, don't stop for a second because there are probably 8 guards surrounding the case and the room, then just walk right on out. It was a bit strange, I think.

But now the even stranger part. Or akward, maybe. I paid 10000 dong (16000 dong is US$1) to go to the museum which I think talks about Ho Chi Minh's path from a poor Vietnamese living in France to the hero that he was to the country, along with some other stuff, but I can't really be sure because I didn't get to see any of it. After putting my bag through yet another security check and leaving it at the front door I walked up the stairs and started on my way through an exhibit. And not five minutes after walking through the museum doors this little old Vietnamese woman and her thirty-something year old daughter grab me by the hand and start smiling at me all cute-like. The daughter made some sort of gesture like they wanted a picture or something, so I chuckled a bit and agreed. And the woman continued to hold my hand and guide me through the museum, where I thought we were going to find one of their friends or family members with a camera. Oh no. It was just the two of them, and they didn't have a camera, and neither did I because I left my bag at the door, so the old woman just kept holding me by the hand, smiling at me, patting me on the back and stopping to put her arm around me every now and then, until we finally got outside the museum where there were some photographers. So we finally found one and took a photo of me and the old lady in front of the museum. But one wasn't enough. We had to have one in front of some other building. So we got one there, this time with me and the old lady hugging each other. And then she still wanted another, this time in front of the one-tiered pagoda. So the photographer told me to put my hands on the old ladys shoulders and she snapped one last photo. And the photographer wrote out a ticket for the old lady, and I waited for her to write me a ticket too so I could pick up my photo (because obviously I HAD to have one) when I was finished seeing everything I wanted to see.

But no, there was only one ticket. And the old lady took me by the hand again and we sat down at a bench with her daughter and some other old lady to wait for our photos to be ready. I don't speak vietnamese. And they don't speak a word of english. So we just kind of sat there, and they would be talking to each other about me and looking and smiling at me, and every once in a while the old lady would compare the size of our legs or arms or hands or skin tone or something. And the daughter pointed out some overweight caucasians to me. And then the old lady put her arms around my waist for a while. I think they asked me to sing, so I started singing Jingle Bells because that's one of the tunes the ice cream cyclo plays. Aaaand it was really akward, and really hilarious.

So after about 15 minutes of sitting, waiting, singing, and being really confused, we finally got our photos. The old lady kept two and I have the one of us in front of the pagoda. There's a nice little border on the photo with some vietnamese text that probably says "Happy Liberation Day 2008" or something. This is one that will definitely have to go in the album.

An American Girl in Vietnam

Thus far everyone in Vietnam has been incredibly friendly, even more so than in Thailand. Maybe it's because I'm traveling alone, maybe it's because I'm female, or maybe they are just very good-natured at heart. So far I've only traveled in the south: Saigon, Na Trang, Hoi An, and now Hue. Every time I told a local that I was an American they would get a big smile on their face and start talking about how their cousin or sister was living in Colorado or California or somewhere. I got a cylco ride back to my hotel in Na Trang and talked to the guy about the war a bit. He pointed out the signs to me for the Liberation Day celebrations coming up: 30 April, the day Saigon fell to the Viet Cong. He said people understand that the American people were against the war, and really the government was to blame, so Vietnamese people don't have hostility towards Americans. At least in the south.

Today in Hoi An I spoke with another Vietnamese man. He agreed that people in the south are very friendly towards Americans and have good relations with them, but in the north it may be a bit different. He said people will be nice, but suggested that I tell people I am from Sweden. I think he was only half joking.

In Hue I can already see it happening a bit, even though Hue is still considered to be part of the south -- the DMZ is about 100 km north of here. I told my moto driver that I was American and there was just a short pause...then a change of subject. And the girl at the front desk of the hotel just smiled and nodded when I said I was American. But they are all still very nice and friendly to me and I don't sense any hostility. Maybe it's all in my head.

Anyways, tomorrow evening I leave for Hanoi. I arrive Wednesday morning -- Liberation Day. I'm excited to see what kinds of festivites will be going on. I'm also curious as to what reaction Vietnamese will have if I tell them I am American. I'm guessing their reaction would be a lot different if we hadn't lost the war. I will just do as I have been doing, and leave a discussion of the war up to them. If they bring it up, I'll talk about it, if they don't, then I'll keep quiet.

One thing I was quite surprised about is the War Remnants museum in Saigon. I had read somewhere that the war was described as the "Civil war with American support," but I have not seen that anywhere thus far, it's all been the "American war." And this museum made the Americans look like absolute barbarians. I was almost ashamed to call myself an American while in there. But now I'm getting kicked off the internet so you can read about it on Wikipedia.

Gooood Morninggggg Vietnam!!

I LOVE Vietnam!! The people, the streets, the food, the sounds, the buildings ... OK so I've only been here for eight hours but so far it is fantastic! Maybe it's just the euphoria of embarking upon another journey through Southeast Asia but I love where I am right now.

I started the day with Luca and Ami. We went to an amusement park called Dam Sen where we saw statues made of porcelain dinnerware, a ton of crocodiles, a field full of hungry deer and goats, an ice sculpture building decorated with Christmas spirit, and a haunted castle, to name a few. It was, er, amusing, to say the least. It was actually quite fun and a good way to spend our evening since all the museums and temples were closed by the time we got settled.

But now Luca and Ami have met up with the others in Mui Ne and I have decided to stay in Ho Chi Minh City. Saigon, as the locals still call it. I got lost trying to find the so-called "backpacker ghetto" but after about a 30 minute sweaty walk through the humid streets filled to the max with mopeds, and sporting my 35lb backpack, I finally found it. And I really like where I am staying. I have my own bathroom on the 5th floor, mine is the only room on the top level, and there is a nice patio overlooking the street below. The desk staff are very friendly and helpful.

For dinner I ate at a place called Hao Mai, partly because it's right across the street from me and partly because some British kid was touting the place in somewhat of an exchange for some free beer. It was all in good fun. I got a bowl of pho, (pronounced "fhurh," or something to that extent,) what seems to be one of, if not THE, staple dishes of Vietnam. It's noodles with lettuce (or cabbage as the British kid said, "for simplicity"), soup, and some chicken, beef, pork, or meat of some kind. I had shrimp. And a Saigon Beer Red. It was pretty tasty! But I realized I think all beer is tasty around here, and I don't know if it has anything to do with the fact that every time I get one I'm so dehydrated or that I have just grown to really like beer. A lot. Whatever it is, I'm going with it, cause it's delicious.