Facing the Dragon - Chapter 13

It is an early 6 AM rise this morning as we are partaking in an early morning river cruise down the Perfume River. After a quick shower and an even quicker breakfast, we make our way down to the river. Our boat cruises out from the shore and we immediately pass many boats, loaded with vegetables and being rowed in the direction of the Dong Ba market. These boats are used as transportation vehicles for produce and also serve as the primary living residences for many of the people who work on them. The scenery around the river is impressive, particularly the views of the mountains in the distance. I am running on about 4 hours of sleep and a relaxing morning like this is just what I need. As our boat pulls up to the Thien Mu Pagoda, I seem to be coming out of my shell as I am feeling more awake and refreshed. The Thien Mu pagoda is also known as the Pagoda of the Celestial Lady and it stands on the site of an ancient Cham temple. This pagoda is a popular tourist site and is situated right on the banks of the Perfume River. This pagoda also has a long history.

During the 1930’s and 40’s, the Thien Mu Pagoda was already renowned for being at the center of the Buddhist opposition to colonialism movement. However, the pagoda gained instant notoriety when one of the pagoda’s most revered monks burned himself to death at a busy Saigon intersection on June 11, 1963. The venerable monk, Thich Quang Duc, drove down from Thien Mu in a powder blue Austin car, exited the car and meditated in the lotus position. As he meditated, he was doused in petrol by fellow monks and willfully set on fire. His act of self-immolation was a form of protest against the way the administration of President Ngô Đình Diệm, who was a Catholic, was oppressing the Buddhist religion. More specifically, his act was intended as a symbolic attempt to represent the way in which all Vietnamese were killing themselves by fighting against each other.

David Halberstam, a New York Times reporter, witnessed the act and had this to say:

“I was to see that sight again, but once was enough. lames were coming from a human being; his body was slowly withering and shriveling up, his head blackening and charring. In the air was the smell of burning human flesh; human beings burn surprisingly quickly. Behind me I could hear the sobbing of the Vietnamese who were now gathering. I was too shocked to cry, too confused to take notes or ask questions, too bewildered to even think.... As he burned he never moved a muscle, never uttered a sound, his outward composure in sharp contrast to the wailing people around him.”

After visiting Thien Mu, we return to the boat and venture out again, this time in the direction of the royal mausoleum of Tu Duc. Tu Duc, a romantic poet who was independent Vietnam’s last emperor, tried to rule Vietnam in the mid 1800s at a time when the Western world challenged the country’s independence. He is most well known for the fact that he had 104 wives, countless concubines and was known to partake in 50 course meals. Despite all the presumed sexual activity you would think that a man with 104 wives and numerous concubines would have had, Tu Duc never fathered a child. This is believed to be attributed to smallpox.

The mausoleum itself is spectacular with different buildings for hosting operas and other forms of entertainment in addition to more than a few buildings to house Tu Duc’s wives and concubines. The highlight of the mausoleum is an idyllic pond located between some of the buildings covered with lotus plants and water lilies; a perfect example of peace and serenity.

The 2 kilometer trek from our docked boat to the mausoleum is a memorable experience. There are many people selling incense, rain ponchos and refreshments on the red clay road that leads us towards our destination. A monsoon hits during our trek and continues to pour rain down for the better part of the next 3 hours. The power of the downpour is unbelievable. It is easy to understand how dangerous floods can come about quickly in these areas after witnessing a storm like this one. While the rain continues to pour, we enjoy a nice lunch under a covered pavilion.

I spend most of the afternoon meandering around the city on a cyclo. There is no better way to see a Vietnamese city. With only open air surrounding me, I am able to take in the sights, sounds and smells of Hue. I see barbers and tailors at work in their shops and also see the so-called “boat people” of Hue. My cyclo driver stops and lets me off so that I can get a closer view of what appears to be two different families who live on the small boat in front of me. I am surprised to find TV antennas wired to the boat. It seems that even in the most modest of homes, television seems is a necessity. Leaving this area, we drive through other parts of Hue and see more of the Vietnamese marketplace that is otherwise known as the street. As in the other towns I have visited, everything from grilling corn to selling gum to shining shoes seems to be taking place somewhere along the streets I am riding on. We eventually make our way to the primary market in town for a stroll through the market. I continue to be fascinated by the multitude and variety of products and services that are available. If you can’t find what you need at the market, you aren’t finding it anywhere. Today, my focus is on watching the people prepare and display the meat that is for sale. While the meat looks fresh, it is fully exposed to the open air and with the open air comes fumes, dust particles and insects. While a hot grill will cook off any detrimental affects that are the result of the surrounding environment, I can understand why some Westerners might see one market and decide that they will refrain from eating meat until they are back in the comforts of their own homes. However, they would also be missing out as eating like a local is one of the best parts of traveling.

As I walk through the market, I am incessantly badgered for some time until I am forced to make an active attempt to lose a woman whose eyes are unflinching as she follows me through the market. Apparently, she wants me to look at the merchandise in her clothing stall. Her persistence finally pays off, as I have no choice but to stop and see what she is selling after I buy some bananas from a fruit booth that is directly across the aisle from her stall.

The woman’s name is Mimi. While her persistence is definitely one factor that draws me into her stall, it isn’t the only one. I am drawn to her because of her endless reservoir of energy and I am impressed with her ability to switch from speaking English to Spanish to French as she attempts to communicate with prospective clients that she hopes to lure into her stall. She has a feisty, smartass attitude that I have rarely encountered in my interactions with Vietnamese women. She is also very cute. I browse at the items in her stall and chat with Mimi for a bit. I find out that she is 19 years old and she makes sure that I don’t walk away empty handed. I buy a red T-shirt that has an emblem of the large yellow communist star of Vietnam on the front. On the back, it says Saigon, Vietnam. After paying Mimi, I ask her which direction I need to head in order to get back to my hotel. She grabs me by the hand and leads me out of the market to give me the kind of directions I understand the best – ones that involve pointing. We chat and joke with each other as we walk along. Mimi and I have some of the best riff-raff that I have had with any girl I’ve met in Vietnam. Mimi is a darling girl with so much potential. Our chance meeting has made my day a much brighter one.

After leaving Mimi to head to my hotel, I encounter a group of children playing on the street. I attempt to walk by them but they refuse to leave me alone until I stop and play with them for a few minutes, and let them stare at and touch me. As we kick a soccer ball back and forth amongst us, I buy some candy for them from a street vendor passing by. After 15 minutes, I decide that I have done enough playing and that it is time for me to get back to the hotel. Apparently, these children do not agree as they put up a form of protest. They stop their informal game of soccer and follow me, and follow me and follow me. For at least 10 minutes, I see them walking behind me every time I look over my shoulder. I feel bad but know that if I give in, my night will be over as I will be here for hours. Eventually, they do give up but I am impressed by their determined efforts.

Tonight, we have a simple dinner since we have an overnight train to Hanoi to catch in a few hours. We pick up some takeout Indian food from a nearby restaurant and walk across the street to the DMZ bar so that we can have a couple beers with our meal. The food is average but it is a welcome change from the strict Vietnamese diet I have been adhering to. After dinner, we walk over to Hue’s central station to catch our overnight train. A train ride in Vietnam is much different that any other train related experience I have ever had. The schedule means NOTHING. Our train is already an hour delayed and there is no indication of when the train will arrive or when we will depart. I am tired and my eyes want to shut but the only way I can ensure that I will get on the train is if I pay close attention to whatever message is being broadcast overheard. After another hour, I become restless and tell one my fellow travelers that I am going to walk outside and take a stroll around the area surrounding the train station.

It is 11 PM on a Friday night and there are a lot of people in cafes enjoying late night meals and drinks. Others seem to be enjoying a movie screened in a bar while still others are enjoying meals that are being prepared in one of Hue’s many street kitchens. This particular street kitchen has 8 to 10 tables surrounding a portable kitchen that is located somewhere between the area where the street ends and the sidewalk begins. I love street kitchens. It’s the outdoor dining areas we love, but it’s not just the dining that takes place outside. Everything is outside including the pots, pans, tables, grill stove and chopping boards. Under a canopy, men and women prepare and cook the food and then hand it to a server who delivers it to the surrounding tables. Amid the chaos and activity of the street, it is nice to know that you can enjoy a fresh and tasty meal without anyone involved with any aspect of preparing or eating the meal even setting foot inside a restaurant.

I continue to walk around this area and see a woman sleeping on the street with her child. This is real poverty before my eyes and it impacts me. The woman tries to coddle her son from the elements of the street and they try to sleep through the loud and frequent clatter that surrounds them on every side. I don’t know how someone gets in this situation. Life is unfair and there is not enough for everyone. As I watch this woman and her son, holding a train ticket in my hand that cost me a sum of money that would feed them both for at least a few days if not a few weeks, I realize just how unfair the world really is.

Our train finally leaves after midnight, but due to our late departure we won’t be arriving in Hanoi until approximately 5 PM tomorrow. This is going to be one hell of a long train ride. I have no idea what to expect as I board the train and make my way to the sleeper car I am sharing with 3 of my other travel companions. I have done much train travel in Europe but this is definitely not Europe. Not expecting much, despite the fact that we are traveling first class, I am actually pleasantly surprised. This train is very similar to the European trains I have taken in the past except that it isn’t as clean. Our sleeping couchette has an air conditioner within it and it is cool enough that I shouldn’t have a problem falling asleep. Unfortunately, I don’t have any kind of a sleeping sheet or pillowcase with me and I am skeptical as to whether the sheets and pillow cases that are already in place are clean. I lie down and read until past 1 and then try and fall sleep. The sheet situation doesn’t sit well with me but I try to shut my eyes and forget about it. I doze off for about an hour before waking up with my bladder rumbling. I climb down from my top bunk and make it out to the hallway to find the bathroom.

The bathroom isn’t very clean but I have used worse. I am just glad I bothered putting my sandals on as I would not feel good about walking with bare feet on this bathroom floor. After using the washroom, my interests are piqued and I decide to walk through the sliding doors at the end of the hall and into the second class area. I want to see what this area is like because this is the area I would typically be sitting in.

What I see is utter chaos. The second class area is not compartmentalized with sleeping carriages, but is open seating like on most trains. Unlike many trains I have traveled on though, it is unbearably hot with no air conditioning. One man is actually lying in the middle aisle which divides the two columns of seats with his shirt off. There are three people sitting and attempting to sleep in seats made for two. Can you imagine trying to sit and sleep for 15 + hours shoulder to shoulder with another person in 90 degree heat and humidity? After witnessing this, I just thank God that I have a sleeping couchette as it would be nearly impossible for me to sleep in these conditions. While I do like train travel generally, the one thing I don’t like about over night train travel is the frequent interruptions and noise because for me, those interruptions severely impact my sleep. With that mind, I head back to my sleeping car and try to get back to sleep.