Saigon Saigon

Saigon is a very hard place to describe but for reasons that are decidedly straightforward. It's hard to describe because I always search for things like "the soul of the city" as if everything must be obscured to be real. In the West, it makes sense. The more I think about it, the more I realize that even Miami is like that, though it wears its soul like a mask instead of an ulcer.

Saigon, well, Saigon doesn't really have a "soul" though that gives the wrong connotation. There is no misdirection or obfuscation about what this city is. I did not come here with that knowledge. I spent a significant amount of time looking for the soul of Saigon. Wondering when, just as in all Western cities, I would come around the corner and see What's Really Going On.

But... you don't need to look hard enough. It's all right here on the surface.

... surface might in fact not be a strong enough word. Surface implies that there is a deeper level, and there isn't. This city is two-dimensional. There is no insertion into the Hollow World through the poles. There is no symbolic topographical mapping.

What you see is damned well what you get.

Saigon is hot, until recently, there wasn't much AC. There still isn't. And so people live outdoors, where at least the heat can rise away.

Most restaurants here are outside. On street corners. Pots of pho. And com (pronounced almost like cum, but with a blowing out of the cheeks like when you were a kid and held your breath). And tiny chairs. And beer. Cheap beer, 15 cents for some local brewed rough stuff that tastes like fresh chicken and rusty springs. And card games.

People will sit on their motorbikes (everyone has a motorbike), and talk with their friends, in the middle of a park. Or go down to the riverside and sit on their bikes with their girlfriends. And get ice cream. Or some other small snack.

All day, the city is covered in lines of motorbikes. Huge sidewalk parking lots. People sit outside of restaurants on their motorbikes and drink coffee, or eat.

People drive down the street next to their friends, and talk, while on their motorbikes. I've seen two motorbikes, each with half of a family driving down the street next to each other. As if a minivan has been molecularly rearranged and no one had noticed.

There are very few traffic rules, excepting the wearing of safety helmets for everyone over 6 years of age. People will drive the wrong way down roads, through red lights. Cut people off and fill the streets. It only works because there are very few cars.

Imagine Miami, but if everyone drove a motorbike. All that extra pavement and sidewalk would be covered, and used. All the time.

And... that's it. That's, in large part, everything. We haven't talked about the people or the culture yet. But the first thing you have to accept in order for the rest to make sense is how simple it is here.

There's food, friends, alcohol, sex, the beach, sports, dance.

That's it.

Advice for Ex-Patriate Men in Vietnam

Dear Sir,

I know it is not any of my concern, but before you, due to a lack of cultural understanding doom yourself, your young woman, and any potential kids to a life of misery, I thought I would voice some concerns and points of which you may not be aware.

Man is King in Vietnam. I mean this in a metaphorical sense, but with all the echoes of what king means in the Western world:

1. You will be treated very well. Fed, back massaged, clothes washed, house cleaned. You ask for a beer, you get a beer. Sounds great, huh?

2. You will be able to sleep around. Considered par for the course. Just be polite, don't show off. Make sure she doesn't come around your house. You think you know how it is. Imagine like its a movie. You get your woman on the side.

3. You can treat her very badly. Out in company? Don't even need to mention her name. She can be "my wife"... If you want, don't even refer to her. If you get a good one she'll just sit there and eat. From what I can see, you might be able to just feed her before and just have her sit there looking all pretty. At home, fuck her brains out. Hell, you can probably even slap her around a bit if you get bored.

Man, sure sounds like all those dominant urges can be satisifed easily. Sounds like its the Place To Be.

So, this is what it looks like at first glance.

But let's talk seriously.

Are you seriously so god damned dumb that you think women don't run shit out here?

Vietnamese women look all sweet, pretty, nice, sensual. Like if you're dreams slipped out of your mouth while you snored and took the sleek form of dark eyes and silky hair that can haunt you. But they are people, and people have power wherever you go.

It's not obvious here, but marry one, and guess who controls the home. And, they're not marrying you for your education, or your easy laugh - sure that helps - they're marrying you for the better life they get and they plan to run what they get.

Ask yourself a very good question - were you a pimp at home? Were you? Let's not quibble. Did you pull women based on your looks and laughs? Or was it your money? Or could you not get any at all?

Because if it was B or C what makes you different out here? All of a sudden all the beautiful, sweet, intelligent women want to snuggle up to you and have babies because you are just so good?

Because unless you have suddenly turned into the Indiana Jones of love and discovered out here that spark of true love that you were unable to unearth back where the reason your conversations failed was you and not broken english then it probably isn't actually the god damned Ark of the Covenant, is it?

This has been a public service announcement. Please return to your usual philandering.

Hermes, Apollo, and Cu Chi

So, my friend Dai Dao just pointed out to me that what the Viet Cong did by having reversible sandals was the same trick that Hermes played on Apollo in order to steal Apollo's horses. He ended up by telling me, "That's why it's important to study the classics."

It makes me wonder - the British empire used to insist on educated officers. The American corps focuses on tactics and leadership with very little innovation - as far I'm aware. I purchased the Counterinsurgency manual but have yet to read it.

To what extent are military failures actually based on literary failings. To what extent do we need to be aware of a solid array of information - fictional, historical, social, economic, and mythical - in order to be successful?

I realized that I'm going to throw up all my impressions on this blog, and then really begin cutting deeply into them. If there is something you guys want me to explore more, please indicate it, but for now I'm just putting stuff up.

There are a myriad of reasons why I've been here six weeks and have not written a word.

1. This place does not make sense. It makes it particularly hard to write about.

2. It is simultaneously so similar to Miami and so foreign from anything I've seen.

3. I kept feeling like there was something hidden around a corner, despite all evidence to the contrary. I wanted to share some hidden jewel of Saigon with my friends....

There are others, but those are the key three.

Let's begin at the beginning. This is likely to go from good to bad to good to bad as my focus swings around here.

The Vietnamese women are beautiful. Graceful, friendly, pretty, petite, sleek, and great senses of humor. All the Vietnamese have great senses of humor.

So, there's a classic issue here because of the low wealth where the women seek foreign men. Many of the more educated women see it as horrible the way that local women seek out foreign men. They ignore something a bit more endemic - women always seek out rich men. The difference in average wealth - Vietnam is still a third-world country - means that even men of average wealth can be rich here. So, foreign becomes a label for rich, and there grows a vast sex culture for foreign men.

It is inherently the same thing that you will see in any developed country by women who are looking for a rich man. There is the added incentive of a possible green card and the dream of America.

Tell the Vietnamese they've got to draw in their horns or we're going to bomb them back into the Stone Age.--Gen. Curtis LeMay, May 1964
And, holy shit we did.
I'm not really sure where to begin about this. We bombed them, and embargoed them. They are one of the commodity richest countries I have ever seen, and ever since the Government became comfortable enough to let in outsiders again they have quickly been pulling their citizens out of poverty... and they dream of America.
There is nothing sharp-tongued about this, or on the sly. They seriously dream about going to America, and working there or going to school there and maybe coming back. Most Vietnamese would rather be in America than here. There is no blame of the American populace for the Vietnam war that I have seen. I've talked with a pretty broad gamut of people, and it just doesn't seem to matter.
They blame a stupid and blind American government for the Vietnam war. They knew the soldiers didn't want to be here, ....
Even the Vietnam War Crimes museum blames the culture of the military and not the individuals. It's pretty amazing considering there are still children being born could be placed in the Mutter museum after their deaths and there is no hate.
I happen to be of the stripe that believes that the populace must take responsibility and guilt for the actions of the government, and it is not up to the populace to free itself from the guilt of whatever sins are done in our names, but it looks like we have been forgiven.
Not that I believe it frees us from penance, but since we have proceeded as if we had no need of it, and it seems no one else is going to hold America to it either... practically I'm wrong.
Television brought the brutality of war into the comfort of the living room. Vietnam was lost in the living rooms of America--not on the battlefields of Vietnam.--Marshall McLuhan, 1975
I took a visit to the Cu Chi tunnels. Any American commentator who believed that we lost Vietnam because of the American populace never visited the Cu Chi tunnels. All the weapons in the world are useless in that place.
Tunnels too deep for bombing runs to work on. Multi-level with sealed doors to avoid flooding, and gas attacks. Vents hidden as termite mounds, and scent-disguised with the equipment of dead marines. Dud bombs turned into mines. Sandals with a BACKWARDS PRINT so that the Viet Cong would be tracked the WRONG WAY into traps designed to maim but not kill in order to remove multiple marines from an engagement. It takes three men to pull out one man who can't walk. The marines will destroy any targets you give them, but there were no targets. It was innovation without technology. It was all done with experience and comparatively primitive tools.
And we made Apocalypse Now.
Which is now referred to on the street here as ApolNow.
It is the biggest sexpatriate spot I have been to yet. Horrible music, expensive drinks, and women who are either working girls or what are called here as opportunists. It is one of the few places I can't get over. I just sit in there sometimes when I'm alone and get a drink and watch.
Brief break - more later.