Tuesday's Gone

I'm all done.

I'm in the midst of packing and getting ready to split soon. Ut and I are trying to figure out what to do with all the loose ends, the chucklehead maid is totally in the way as always, and Na and Vit are running about, making a general mess of everything. Hoogo oi!

Outside people are getting ready for America Defeated Day/ Reunification Day. On April 30, 32 years ago, a fierce mile-long column of North Vietnamese tanks rolled down Le Duan street and crashed through the gates of the Reunification Palace, turning the grounds into a muddy tank parking lot. A soldier ran up the front steps unopposed and waved the NLF flag from the second story balcony. The war was officially over.

Across town, American helicopters airlifted the last Americans and lucky South Vietnamese out of the US Embassy, leaving a hoard of South Vietnamese clamoring at the gates. Finally the helicopters left for good, and thousands of people who were until then in the employ of the US army were left to their fate in the hands of the North Vietnamese.

It is ironic (?) that this is the day i too make tracks from Saigon. And like those people left at the embassy gates, there are people here who are sad to see me go. I came here alone, but i leave having four sisters, three brothers and a girlfriend. Last night Trang said, "Khong di ve nha. Nha la Saigon." (Don't go home. Saigon is home.) I will miss them all very, very much. I love every one of them. And because of the circumstances, My and I are trying our very best to not love each other too much, which is turning out to be the hardest thing of all. I will miss her most of all. I will see her one more time when I go up north. Wish me luck. Hopefully someday we'll see each other again.

I'm signing off for now. In the words of Ronnie Van Zant, Hoogo's gone with the wind.

Cu Chi

Yesterday, My's oldest sister Vit, Trang and I hopped on bikes and drove up to Cu Chi, site of the famous Viet Cong tunnels.

The Cu Chi tunnels are proof of what committed human beings are capable of. Hundreds of freedom fighters lived in this extensive tunnel system (over 200km) for months at a time, totally evading US forces. They had kitchens, sleeping quarters, meeting rooms, dining halls, and even schoolrooms all dug out of the wet dirt. Air holes were disguised as termite mounds, and careful measures were taken to divert cooking smoke far from its source.

Crawling through those tunnels, i reminded myself of the time when I and four others crowded ourselves into a doghouse after a party in Newport, Rhode Island. I didn't like it then , and i still don't like it.

The tunnels were booby trapped with grisly spiked pits. Trang playfully tried to push me into them, saying "I KILL American!!" I would have hated to be one of the US Army "tunnel rats" that was in charge of flushing the Viet Cong out of the tunnels. A thankless, terrible job. Their latin motto, Non gratum anus rodentum, is apt, meaning "not worth a rat's ass".

Passing by photos of the damage caused by American bombing and defoliation, Vit made sure i looked at every one. She looked in my eyes to make sure i understood what i was seeing. It was as if she was putting the responsibility on me to make sure all this never happened again. I realize I do have some, however little, power over the ham-fisted US war machine. Much more than she does. And that small power does place an amount of responsibilty on me. Thanks Vit, for making me realize that.

Fatal Error

Alert: Hoogo Brain no longer work.

Please revert to saved version of Hoogo Brain or reinstall Hoogo Brain driver. Cannot activate Hoogo Brain thinking function due to Hoogo scratch disk full.

Plus, it's too frickin hot.

The Tiger Lady

I just read an interesting wartime story about a young vietnamese woman called the "Tiger Lady". During 1967, she raced around Saigon on a motorbike wearing a red ao dai, long pony-tail flowing behind her, packing a .45 with which she picked off US soldiers walking down the street.

Now, I don't condone killing people. But man, that's cool.

Time

I'm counting down the seconds to when I can pack my things and leave again. I'm at the point where all my work is almost done... but it isn't. I'm trying to be ultra-patient and follow through steadily, but i have bitten off a lot to chew, and it's quite a challenge. A wise man said, "Time is a game only children play well." I, for one, suck at this game.

I've dropped the Laos idea for now, because i heard it's hot as blazes there, and i'm all done with heat for now. I'm heading for the mountains in central Vietnam. I want as much nature as possible. I want to swim in waterfalls, and trek through the hills. This is the carrot I'm dangling, and so far, it's pulled me through.

Ut

Na and Ut
Originally uploaded by toy ghost.

My's little sister Ut is quickly becoming my favorite of the Nguyens. She is "jai yen" (a cool soul), as the Thais say. She is quiet and has a slight permanent grin on her face, as if she's constantly amused by the absurdity around her. Could be because she's the mother of a five-year-old.

"Ut " is the name parents give to their last kid- it actually means "youngest". She didn't end up being the last though, there are three more after her. Whoops.

Na's dad, Nam, is a police officer down in District 7. In order to be a police officer in Vietnam, you must be from a family that supported Ho Chi Minh during the war. Furthermore, you must marry someone from a family that supported Ho Chi Minh during the war. For this reason, Ut and Nam are not married, and don't live together. Plus, their families don't think highly of each other . Nam's family thinks Ut's family is un-Vietnamese, and Ut's family thinks Nam's family are sycophants and bullies. Ho Chi Minh, Schmo Chi Minh, I say.

Nam seems pretty cool to me. Even if he is a pig. ;)

More on Saigon Traffic

Driving around in Saigon is like comprehending a James Joyce novel that's being read aloud by a speedreader. Strict concentration is required for every second. There's hardly even time to blink. You have to be constantly aware of what's on both sides of you, behind you, as well as what's coming straight at you. People drive the wrong way in traffic all the time. I wouldn't be surprised if in future generations, citizens of Saigon evolved to have pairs of eyes on the sides of their heads.

People get away with traffic crimes that would cause a lot of honking and yelling in the US. People fly out of alleys, take left turns against traffic, and cut people off constantly. The climate of the road is ten times more selfish than Boston traffic, which if you don't know, is saying volumes. I come in close contact with legions of jackasses daily, and i want to scream at them and honk very often. But i don't, largely because no one else does, and also because it happens so damn often, it's just expected. You just have to shrug it off, or you'll throw off your groove to shrug off the next asshole just up the road.

Boat People Story

Curious story about the maid.

Her cousin was one of the refugee "boat people" who fled Vietnam in 1975. Many people feared imprisonment or death in the hands of the North Vietnamese, so they sold everything they owned and joined groups of other refugees on un-seaworthy boats bound for America. It was widely known that these people had wads of cash on them, so the boats were targets for pirates from the Phillipines and other islands. Many of the boat people resorted to tearing their clothes and rubbing dirt all over themselves to appear poor.

The boat that this woman was on was attacked. Every one of the 120 vietnamese were robbed and murdered. The maid's cousin was 7 months pregnant, and begged for her and her child's life. Finally the pirates agreed and set her adrift alone on the boat- the sole survivor from Vietnam. After a week on the open sea, she was picked up by an American ship and brought to America.

Crocodile Restaurant

The night before My left, a bunch of us went to the crocodile restaurant. They have a big crocodile pen, where you can choose the crocodile that looks the tastiest, and they'll kill it in front of you to whet your appetite.

In addition to barbeque crocodile, we had a course of whole fried birds. They were about the size of a chick, and they were crispy fried. I just couldn't bring myself to eat them, but i watched incredulously as the other folks snatched the little birdies with their chopsticks, dipped them in birdie sauce and chewed off their heads- as casually as if they were eating french fries. mmm- bird head...

At one point, the server set a hot pot on the table and then a plastic bag of what turned out to be live eels. He had a bit of trouble sliding them into the hot pot, because if you didn't know, eels don't like being dropped into boiling water. A couple flopped out onto the table and had to be re-inserted. But soon after we had a yumptious course of whole, boiled alive eel soup.


By the way, I tried duck fetus and it was good. A lot like pig brain.

Here's Johnny....

All work and no play and a babbling maid make Hoogo a dull boy.
All work and no play and a babbling maid make Hoogo a dull boy.
All work and no play and a babbling maid make Hoogo a dull boy.
All work and no play and a babbling maid make Hoogo a dull boy.
All work and no play and a babbling maid make Hoogo a dull boy.
All work and no play and a babbling maid make Hoogo a dull boy.
All work and no play and a babbling maid make Hoogo a dull boy.
All work and no play and a babbling maid make Hoogo a dull boy.

Just one more week. Let's see if i make it.

Dear Maid II

Maid,

Do you not have anything to do other than stare at me while i eat? It really creeps me out. Every time i look up from my meat breakfast, i can see through your vacant eyes to the cavern in your skull, where a drooling baboon with a stick plays an eternal game of whack-a-mole with itself.

Sorry to come down on you so hard. I know you are trying. To do what, i don't know. But realize, you are such an easy target. And your ineptitude is the only entertainment i'm getting at the moment.

Thank You.

PS- No matter how many times you call me "Hoogo", it's not my name.

Home alone

My has moved up north. I will stay in Saigon until the end of the month and then it's off to Laos. I am alone in a big empty house with a halfwit maid. To keep myself amused about the situation, i've been trying to remember all the amusing dumb jokes i know:

dumber than a box of hair

a taco short of a combo plate

sharp as a bag of wet mice

a few buttons missing on her remote control

if she were any dumber, i'd have to water her twice a week

That's good enough. So the whole Nguyen family came over to help load all of My's stuff into the truck. We piled that thing like the Grinch's sleigh. In the end, there was only a very small space for the dogs, who had to ride cooped up like that for the 20 hour ride.

The neighborhood kids stared while a bunch of us guys figured out how to lift a million-pound safe onto the truck, and the neighbor lady (i've never gotten her name) came over with drinks. She has a dog who i affectionately call "Little twelve toes". This silly pup has six toes on both his hind paws. He's really self-conscious about them too, so don't talk about them in front of him.

My has promised to come back to visit soon, but I'm not sure how much time she'll have. What makes matters worse is that her restaurant is on the property of a company, a sort of company "camp". Since i'm not affiliated with the company or the businesses that cater to them, i am not allowed on the premises. So i can't visit.

Many thoughts and feelings are swirling in my head as I'm confronted with the possibility of not seeing My any more. One of them is "one of these days, these days will end". But i pray they don't end before I'm through with them.

More on that later as i gather my thoughts.

Na

Na
Originally uploaded by toy ghost.

My's niece Na is a character, to say the least. I'm put in charge of picking her up at school sometimes when My is busy at her salon. Na is proud of her American boyfriend- she runs up to me with hugs and kisses. She is already grooming herself to have an American husband- "i'm crazy about Americans", she says to My. It's her version of the shining knight fantasy- a fantasy that might be shattered when she finally steps off the plane in Cleveland.

She's apparently a handful for her mom, who asks me every time i see her, "you like baby? You want one baby?"

Every once in a while i hear a knock at my door, and little Na peeks in.

"Na! Em khoe khong?"

"Khoe..." Then she proceeds to show off her drawing skills, virtually ruining every pen i own. But, as i've learned in this life, you can't say no to a five year old girl (unless she's yours). So the sixteen dollar brush pen is offered as a sacrifice to kindergarten art. She's actually quite artistically inclined, so the pen didn't die in vain.

RIP Kurt Vonnegut

Thanks for helping to make me who i am. I hope to see you in the big spaceship in the sky.


"lovemaking, if sincere, is one of the best ideas Satan put in the apple she gave to the serpent to give to Eve. The best idea in that apple, though, is jazz."

-Kurt Vonnegut

Dear Maid

Dear Maid,

You dingbat. Do not set drinks on my drawings. I appreciate the sixth cup of coffee, but i'd rather not have wet rings on my work. Also, i don't understand your vietnamese ramblings no matter how loud you speak, and I am too busy for your drivel. Oh, and when you burn trash, make sure you watch it so it doesn't burn down half the yard like the other day. And unless i ask for it, please keep the mayonnaise out of my eggs, you tragic failure of social Darwinism.

heh, that was fun.

Vietnamese tongue twisters

If you're interested in hearing My's alliterative poems, click here and here.

My's Dad

During the war, My's dad was a military police officer for the south vietnamese in Hue. He was stationed there during the reoccupation of Hue after the Tet Offensive in 1968. One day, his sister went to market and never came back. She was an unfortunate victim of a bombing mission. There wasn't any of her body left to be found. My's dad filed the report himself.

After the war, My's dad was captured and imprisoned by the north vietnamese. He was brought to Saigon and put in a "re-education" camp (read: prison). His sentence was five years. But( and this earns him mountains of respect from me) he escaped after a year and a half. He couldn't register with the government to work, so he went into the illegal business of transporting and selling the bark of a rare and state-protected tree. The bark fetches a good price as a fragrant incense, but the frequent run-ins with the police meant a lot of lost merchandise.

It's hard to know how My's dad feels about the war. He is a very relaxed and sociable guy, and he only seems to be interested in drinking beer with me. I do know though, that he's not a fan of Ho Chi Minh. He feels that the government has deified Ho to ridiculous proportions, and that he wasn't really all that.

I find it oddly interesting that the only opinion My has voiced about the war was that it was a huge waste of money.

The Food

My favorite vietnamese dishes-

Banh Xeo- a prawn and sprouts omelette that you roll up with lettuce and mint and dip in nuoc mam (fish sauce) and chilies. damn good.

Banh Cuon- pork and greens rolled up in a gooey steamed rice tortilla

Clams- you shuck a clam and chop it up with spring onions and peanuts. put it back in the half shell with some spices and put it on the grill. When it's good, it's heavenly.

Bun(noodles), grilled pork, spring rolls greens, carrots, and peanuts drizzled with nuoc mam.

Pho, pho, pho.

Sugar cane wrapped in shrimp paste and baked. Then you wrap it up in lettuce and greens like Banh Xeo.

Bun Bo Hue- beef noodle soup.

Mangosteens- if you've never had a mangosteen, your life is incomplete. This is my favorite fruit evar!

Che- a cold sweet rice soup with green algae gummy worms. If that sounds gross to you, then there's more for me.

Karaoke Engrish

The english sections in the karaoke songbooks here are an endless source of amusement.

The people who type them up obviously don't know what they are typing. Sometimes the song title just ends in the middle of a word. "...eh, they'll get it.."

You can imagine our surprise when Dave and I discovered that Elvis Presley actually sang a song called "You ain't Nothing but a Ho".

Coconut Thieves

Every evening My and I go outside by the river and play badminton or drink tea at a makeshift cafe run by two guys who are always watching Chinese martial arts films. The dogs, of course come with.

Like clockwork, the coconut boat comes by every afternoon to deliver the goods to the neighborhood. Every evening, My whispers to the dogs in french (they only understand french), "get the coconut!" It's incredibly amusing to see these two dogs sneak up to the pile of coconuts , snag some and trot back. They are GOOD. They haven't been caught once.

I suppose this practice of ordering dogs to steal things is unethical, among other things. But you can't argue with a pile of free coconuts.

Vietnamese Blue

When I was in college, my friends and I made up a random cultural joke aimed at our Portuguese friends. It was that Portuguese people couldn't tell the difference between green and blue. There's obviously no truth in this, but the sheer ridiculousness of the joke made it endure, and I still like to refer to green things jokingly as "portuguese blue".

Well, it turns out that Vietnamese people actually can't tell the difference between green and blue. The word "xanh" refers to both green and blue. You have to add a modifier to the word, such as "like the sky" or "like a leaf" in order to make the distinction. Why didn't they just make up another word? Who knows? Why is the sky green?