GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!!! - A RUDE AWAKENING

G-O-O-O-O-O-D MORNING VIETNAM!! 5AM comes early.

It's early morning in the Mekong Delta in Ben Tre, and I have my first encounter with the local government. At 5am in my hotel, I'm awakened by announcements bellowing from a government loudspeaker out on the street. I recall how Robin Williams screamed out, "Good Morning Vietnam!", from his movie of the same name. But this early am announcer isn't anywhere near as entertaining.

“Good morning Vietnam. Time to wake up. Fathers, get up and get ready to go to work, and provide for your families. Mothers, get up and start cooking breakfast. Children, get up and get ready for school. Study hard, and make your parents proud of you. Remember mothers and fathers, having two children in your family is enough. You don’t need more children than that.”

This rough translation is a reminder that the government is pushing to reduce population growth. Vietnam’s current population is 91 million, more than double the population from when the war ended in 1975. This is by far the most densely populated country in Southeast Asia. Unlike China, which has the one child policy, Vietnam is calling for families to have only two. There is less pressure put on farming families. The government expects farmers to have more children, so that they will have more help to work the fields.

Local workers do horticulture by hand in a Ben Tre park

Still, enforcement of this policy on city dwellers can be harsh. If a woman has a government job, and she has more than two children, she can be forced to leave her job, or be demoted. Enforcement of this policy is also emphasized with ethnic minorities, as the government seeks to keep them in check.

I discover that these morning propaganda announcements are not a rare occurrence. These early broadcasts happen almost every day, and there are loudspeakers such as this one hanging in neighborhoods throughout Vietnam. Apparently the government believes that their daily announcements are more effective, if they use them to wake you up. Later that day I hear a siren, much like a tornado siren. Fortunately, it's only a test, for when typhoons are headed this way. In 2006 when Typhoon Durian blew through the Mekong Delta, 66 people were killed, hundreds of boats sank, and thousands of houses were destroyed. Ben Tre Province was one of the hardest hit. Much like after the war, it took them years to rebuild from the destruction.

Ben Tre riverboats. Note the traditional paintings on the bow of each craft.

I decide to take a walk along the waterfront this morning, before I depart later in the afternoon. Arriving at the docks, there is already a lot of activity, as cargo is being unloaded. The wooden riverboats sit side by side, packed tightly together. As I watch, laborers offload a cargo of coconuts by hand, throwing them onto small carts. Soon another riverboat pulls in, also loaded down with coconuts. Ben Tre is well known throughout the country for its tasty coconut candy.

As I continue along the riverside road, I come to the local version of a teamster. As a river town Ben Tre has few trucks, and this hauler uses a small motorbike, with an open cart attached to the back. The cart is stacked high with bags of rice. I’m struck by how much work he is accomplishing, with less powerful machinery. His  motorbike engine is only 125 cc’s, yet he’s hauling a load that westerners would use a pickup truck to do. Admittedly, it’s not very safe. If he had to stop quickly, he could be crushed by those heavy bags of rice. At least he was wearing a helmet.

Unexploded ordinance (UXO) still litters Ben Tre. This war refuse is in the local Ben Tre Museum.

As commerce in Ben Tre has risen, more roads are being paved as the town expands. But road construction here is not without its hazards. Just before my arrival, an unexploded 250 pound bomb from the war years was found during digging on a local building site, and disarmed. The seasonal flooding and muddy earth of the delta rice paddies meant that many heavy bombs dropped here had soft landings, and didn’t explode. It’s no surprise that there are still numerous unexploded bombs still here today. With the rise in construction, and with the continued clearing of land for agriculture, more unexploded ordinance will continue to be found in Ben Tre, and not intentionally.

As I reach Dong Khoi Street on the waterfront, I step onto the town bridge that crosses the Ben Tre River to the next island. A section that was destroyed in the war has been rebuilt. A narrow bridge of light design, the town’s bridge can only withstand the weight of motorbikes and pedestrians. Like elsewhere in the delta, stronger, wider bridges are needed. Unfortunately for the delta dwellers, bridge construction in this region has been slow and plagued by problems.

Ben Tre's riverfront. The rebuilt bridge beyond is only strong enough for motorbikes and pedestrians.

A few years back, there was a major accident during bridge construction in nearby Can Tho Province in the delta. While many workers were laboring up on the bridge, a large section collapsed, killing at least 60 workers, leaving many more injured. It was all over the news. Many Vietnamese blame corruption as a factor in the disaster.

Further outside of Ben Tre, a large cable stay bridge is also under construction. When completed, it will connect Ben Tre Province to a highway leading out of the delta. The unfinished bridge is already months past its original opening date.

This modern suspension bridge will improve life in Ben Tre and the Mekong Delta

Before I leave, I ask a hotel clerk about the new bridge, and he’s well versed in the lingo of promotion. “When that bridge finishes, there will be even more tourism, more development,” he gushes. “Come back to Ben Tre in one year. You won’t even recognize it.”

In a wider context, I think that what he says is far more true, when comparing the war years to the present time. Americans that had been to Ben Tre back during those times of conflict, would hardly even recognize this town today.     

DESTROYED TOWN OF BEN TRE IS REBUILT

Buzzing downtown of Ben Tre. Few cars, many motorbikes.

I’m out for a stroll, wandering through the center of an old river town. Now that I’m out of Saigon, I’m feeling the slower pace of life in the Mekong Delta.

Dried fish and fresh produce await customers in shop doorways. Motorbikes  putter past me on the downtown street. On the next street corner, an older Vietnamese woman in pajamas sells freshly baked loaves French bread. The colonials may be gone, but the Vietnamese still enjoy French pastries.

As compared to other old towns in the Mekong Delta, this provincial hub is more modern. The buildings that surround me have an appearance of urban renewal. For an old provincial capital, it bears a look not very common to Vietnam. I notice that for an old colonial town, there are far fewer French colonial buildings around. That’s because most of them have been destroyed years before.

Various groups of townsfolk greet me as I pass. “Hello! How are you? Where you from?” they ask energetically. I get the idea that I’m something of a rarity here. Few tourists come to this part of the Mekong Delta, and even fewer of them are American. Given the history of this town, I’m not surprised.

Old town cinema. Bullet holes can still be seen on the sign.

I’m in the delta town of Ben Tre, which was well known as a rebel stronghold, even long before the American military arrived in the 1960’s. The new look that it has today, is due to the enormity of war’s destruction.

In 1968 when the Tet Offensive hit South Vietnam, the Viet Cong managed to briefly capture this town. Soon after American forces counter-attacked to take Ben Tre back from the VC. Taking the town by house to house fighting was brutal and difficult, so the American military opted for artillery and aerial attacks. They won the battle and regained the town, but not before much of Ben Tre was destroyed by American firepower.

When the fighting stopped, more than half the town was in ruins. Over 400 VC were killed in the battle, but the civilian death toll was even higher. In the aftermath, many bodies were dumped into the Ben Tre River.

The manager of my hotel is a Ben Tre native, and his father was involved in the fighting. “My father VC (Viet Cong),” he told me. His father had survived the battle, and his son relayed his simpler version of those fateful days. “The VC attack. America bomb. Many, many people die.”

The fighting and destruction in Ben Tre produced the most infamous quote of the entire Vietnam War. After the battle was over, a US Army Major was quoted by Associated Press reporter Peter Arnett as saying, “We had to destroy Ben Tre in order to save it.”

Market destroyed in '68 fighting Photo: P Sharkey

There is little evidence left today of the massive destruction of those days. As I wander around the downtown, most of the buildings are new, but a number of old buildings that survived the fighting still bear scars from the assault. Looking carefully at the buildings that survived the shelling, I can still make out physical evidence of the heavy fighting that took place here decades before. As I walk around town I see one residence has bullet holes around the doorway. Another building has shrapnel marks scattered high across the walls. A tall sign that reads, “Cine Theatre” has eight bullet holes peppered up the façade. Those scars are certainly ugly, but with so much new architecture surrounding these old buildings, the damage isn’t very noticeable. Any major damage done to this neighborhood has already been repaired.

Passing an old government building, I come to the only sign of old fortifications in Ben Tre. Two abandoned, ground level bunkers sit at the corners of a government compound. Still showing pockmarks from gunfire, one bunker had a section of concrete knocked out, probably from a rocket propelled grenade.

Rebuilt market in Ben Tre today

Fortunately these old scars of war are the exception, since most of the buildings in town are from the 1970’s era or later. Much as Berlin rebuilt from the rubble of World War II to become the modern city it is today, Ben Tre has also risen from the ashes.

Arriving at the downtown’s center by the river, I reach Cho Ben Tre, the Ben Tre Market. This was also hit by fighting during the Tet takeover. “The market (was) gone,” the hotel manager told me of that time. “Fire… the buildings, fire.”

I look at the market now, and it appears brand new. It was rebuilt years ago of course, and once again it’s the center of commerce in Ben Tre. A lot of folks are eating at food stalls outside, so I stop in for something to drink. It’s a hot day,  the perfect time for a cold green tea.

Sitting down at an empty table, I’m not unnoticed. At the next table is a group of local ladies in their 30’s and 40’s. They don’t speak English, but from their giggling and curious looks, I can tell that they don’t see many white westerners here in the market. As I'm getting further south away from Saigon, I'm getting deeper into the delta where few foreigners venture. 

The market buzzes with commerce

The ladies motion for me to join them at their table, which I do, though I can tell communication will be difficult. A teenage waitress brings my order of green tea. One of the ladies at the table points to the waitress, then to herself. “She, daughter,” she says. It doesn’t take long before the woman tries to convince me to marry her daughter. Although flattered, I politely decline. One thing that hasn’t changed here in the delta, is that marriage to an American is a quick ticket out of poverty.

Another woman at the table seems to be in her forties. Through the use of hand motions, she informs me she is actually 60. Compared to white westerners, Asians often appear much younger than their age. Asian women seem to age gracefully.

I try speaking to them with a few basic words of English. There is little  comprehension, but lots of laughter. Another lady at the table joins in, and offers me another marriage proposal. “We marry,” she says, pointing to her ring finger. I decline again. More laughter.

I’m surprised at the jovial nature and friendliness of these local women. Most of them were old enough to survive the fighting that occurred here, and the US military once heavily bombed this town. As an American, the last thing I was expecting was marriage proposals, even if only in jest.

I pay my bill, and say farewell as I get up to leave. I receive a chorus of bye-byes from the friendly women, as a two year old approaches the table. Her mother takes her daughter by the hand, trying to get her to say bye-bye to me. The child cringes back in fear from the tall white foreigner. All the ladies laugh. The child is the only one at the whole table that is wary of me.

Memorial to the 1960 Ben Tre uprising

I make my way up Dong Khoi street, and head back to the hotel where I’m staying. Like the Dong Khoi Street in Saigon, this refers to the ‘uprising’ of 1960 here in Ben Tre against the dictator Diem, not a reference to the 1968 battle here with the Americans.

That earlier Viet Cong uprising is memorialized in town in Monument Park, where there are murals and towering Soviet style statues. There is a reference there to ‘fighting Americans’, but most US soldiers here in 1960 were only advisors. Full American combat units didn’t arrive in Vietnam until five years later.

Like the museums in Ho Chi Minh City, there are few people in the memorial park, it doesn’t appear popular at all. My hotel manager explained: “The people forget. The war in the past. Far.” He says his former Viet Cong father feels the same as everyone else. I’m sure his father hasn’t forgotten the war, but given the warm welcomes and friendliness I’ve experienced here, I’m pleased to find that I'm not seeing any bitterness. 

THE FORMER SAIGON

Notre Dame Cathedral, built during French Colonial Years. Vietnam has more than 6 million Catholics.

I return another day to walk the best preserved section of Dong Khoi. Once known as the Place Garnier, it's now called Lam Son Square, where I step into the Caravelle, one of the most luxurious historical hotels in town. This was a favorite of the international press corps based in Saigon during wartime. NBC, CBS, and ABC had their Saigon bureaus in the Caravelle. From here their offices sent out television crews that covered battlefields all over South Vietnam. This old hotel became the headquarters of the world’s first TV war.

A who’s-who of America’s top journalists made the Caravelle their Saigon residence. Legend Walter Cronkite stayed here, as well as Pulitzer prize winners David Halberstam and Peter Arnett. Vice President Richard Nixon slept here, as did President Bill Clinton, who finally re-established America’s diplomatic relations with Vietnam.
 
Taking the elevator to the tenth floor, I step into what is now the Saigon-Saigon Bar. I grab a table with a view, order a Tiger beer, and check out the scene. As traffic buzzes below, I peer out across the rooftops of the teeming city center. Down at the end of Dong Khoi, the dual spires of the Notre Dame Cathedral reach for the heavens. The 19th century neo-Romanesque building was once the tallest in the city. It has since been dwarfed by other buildings, as skyscrapers begin to dominate the skyline.

Nearby expat bar 'The Office'. No hanky-panky with the waitresses. How about a nice game of darts??

With such a commanding view of the city, this rooftop bar became a journalist’s favorite, as a place to drink and trade information. In his famous book “Dispatches” Michael Herr wrote about the fall of Saigon as viewed from this bar, known then as ‘Jerome and Juliette’s’. During the various times of violence in Saigon, whether it was a coup, or the Tet Offensive, or the fall of Saigon, some members of the foreign press corps gathered up in this top floor bar. From their high panoramic vantage point, they’d look down and watch the fighting around the city, holding a cocktail in hand. Some correspondents claimed that they could cover the war solely from this bar, without ever leaving their bar stools.


When the final offensive came, the few die hard journalists still up here watched as American helicopters evacuated westerners and refugees from Saigon. A few blocks down Dong Khoi, a Huey landed on a rooftop, making the final flight to bring out refugees. With so many refugees on the roof, most were left behind. A UPI photographer captured the dramatic moment on film. Although the building was an apartment house for CIA employees, an editor misidentified the location as the US embassy. The photo with its errant caption appeared in newspapers around the world, and it became the most iconic image of the war’s end. I’m reminded that even with a free press, the truth doesn’t always come out.  

The famed Hotel Continental in Saigon (photo: Wikipedia)

With so much conflict around Saigon, there was only one attack on this hotel, a bombing in 1964. A few people were injured, but nobody was killed. Since the bombing occurred near mid-day, all the journalists were out on assignment. By the war’s later years, the Viet Cong may have decided that the foreign journalists were a benefit to their cause, and left the Caravelle alone. In 1975 the government took over the hotel, and renamed it the Doc Lap (Independence) Hotel, only to change it back to the Caravelle later.

Looking across the square is one of Vietnam’s most romantic locales, the 19th century Hotel Continental Saigon. Room 214 had a famed long term resident, the author Graham Greene. His stay here during the 1950’s was a time when the French empire was declining, and American influence here was rising. Here Greene wrote the novel ‘The Quiet American’, about the intrigues of the time. The book became a movie in 1958, and was remade on location here in 2002 starring Michael Caine and Brendan Frasier. Just across the square, the production filmed a a terrorist bombing scene outside the Continental. Now foreigners were shooting film here, instead of bullets. This was groundbreaking; the first western studio production to film within Vietnam since the war’s end.  

After the communist takeover, the Continental became the Dong Khoi Hotel, before reclaiming its colonial name. Both the Caravelle and the Continental have gone through extensive renovations, and both had their boomerang name changes. With the economic liberalization of the south, some of the neighborhood’s old names are coming back. The Vietnamese government finally figured out that nostalgia can be very profitable. 

The famous Saigon Opera House in 1915. This landmark still stands today. (Photo: Wikipedia)

Between the two famous hotels, is the Saigon Opera House. Built by the French it later was the National Assembly, before becoming the Municipal Theater in post-war days. It’s a picturesque vision of French architecture, save for the bar now open in the basement. 

The neon lights and girlie bars are long gone from this old street, but Dong Khoi continues to be a focus of controversy. In 2008, as the Olympic torch passed through town on its way to Beijing, a small group of Vietnamese men gathered on the front steps of the theater. They held up signs in Vietnamese, English and Chinese, demonstrating against Chinese foreign policy. They were soon arrested. A well known rights activist among them was later sentenced to 30 months in prison.

That same year six Vietnamese democracy activists, including novelist Nguyen Xuan Nghia, were arrested and charged with such heinous crimes as hanging banners in public places, distributing leaflets, writing poems, and posting internet articles calling for more human rights and democracy! A Human Rights Watch spokesman said of their arrest, “There’s no question that the only offense these people have committed is to peacefully advocate for political pluralism and human rights.” 

That non-violent demonstration at the municipal theater was tame, compared to a more outrageous act of free speech from the previous decade. Back in 1993, an ex-ARVN Major and an accomplice hijacked a flight out of Tan Son Nhat Airport. The former soldier didn’t make any demands, other than to order the pilot to circle the city. He then threw anti-government leaflets out of the plane, scattering them across HCMC. He attempted to escape by parachuting out of the plane, but the police caught him anyway. He was sentenced to 20 years in prison.  

D.B. Cooper would have been proud.