OUTRAGEOUS PHOTO LIE

The 'Dragon House' on Saigon's waterfront. Originally French built, now it's Ho's legacy.

I decide that if I am to really understand Vietnam, I should make a visit to a place down by the Saigon River. Here sits the Ho Chi Minh Museum, dedicated to the old communist himself, Ho Chi Minh. Located in the old French colonial customs building called the Dragon House, it’s appropriately named, since I see dragon decorations across the rooftop.

Statue of young Ho, outside the museum.

Outside stands a statue, depicting a young and beardless Ho Chi Minh. At that time he was known as Nguyen Tat Thanh; he hadn’t changed his name to Ho Chi Minh yet. (He changed his name several times during his life.) It was on this very river front in 1911, that he boarded a boat to leave Saigon, not to return to Vietnam for decades. Most Americans will be surprised to learn, that the next year he even lived in New York for a while. There in the Big Apple, the future president of North Vietnam, and future enemy of the USA, worked as a mere baker. This stay in the states was long before Ho became a revolutionary opposed to the US. It was only later when he moved to France that he would embrace communism. While in New York, he developed a taste for American cigarettes, which he smoked for years afterward.

America's great enemy. Ho loved American cigarettes!

Almost unreconisable, this is Ho as a young man.

Ho never spent much time here in Saigon, since his family was from farther north. Since there are more interesting things to see about Ho in Hanoi, I spend little time in this museum, that's almost void of visitors. Perhaps this is due to the current lack of revolutionary fervor for communism. Another possible reason, is that this isn't the only museum in Vietnam dedicated to old Uncle Ho. There are several of these Ho Chi Minh museums throughout the country! Talk about overkill.

Photo of US troops in Vietnam hanging in Saigon's Ho Chi Minh Museum

What does deserve mention here, is the most ridiculous attempt at propaganda I’ve ever seen. (And that's saying a lot!) Among many photos displayed on the walls, one has an enlarged black and white photo that many students that studied the Vietnam War will recognize. Previously published in an American book, the photo shows US Special Forces soldiers after they returned from a successful combat mission in Vietnam. They wear camouflage fatigues, and carry assault rifles. Some have bandoliers of ammunition across their shoulders, others have had their faces partially blackened for night fighting. Most are smiling, and holding up a North Vietnamese flag that they have just captured in battle.

The Ho Chi Minh Museum took a copy of that same photo, and hung it up in this museum, with this outrageous caption: 

How ridiculous. 

WHERE CAPITALISM BEAT COMMUNISM

An old Soviet made tank in Saigon. Folks today are more interested in Toyotas.

“The Ho Chi Minh Campaign” is the Vietnamese name for the last offensive that finally ended the war in 1975. Located down the street from the old Presidential Palace, the Ho Chi Minh Campaign Museum is today almost an afterthought. As I walked around this museum, I was the only visitor! Besides old weapons and usual photo displays, the biggest exhibit and centerpiece of this museum is a large model of Saigon and surrounding provinces. The exhibit shows troop movements from the war’s final days, ending with the communist victory. With flashing LED lights, it’s a very impressive display. Or at least it was. After flipping a few switches, I found it doesn’t work anymore.

Outside the museum are more captured American made weapons, plus a lot of Soviet built weapons used in the final offensive. I find that what’s most telling about being here, is not what’s inside the museum, but what surrounds the place.

Near the entrance, an old North Vietnamese Army tank sits out front. Soviet made, it is the very image of communist power. As I stand and look at it, I can’t help but notice that behind and above it, is a big sign from the Toyota dealership next door. Toyotas are much more relevant to Vietnamese today, than this rusting Russian tank.

Also on the museum grounds, a Soviet built surface to air missile points skyward. These missiles were once the terror of the skies, shooting down American made fighter jets and heavy bombers. Towering beyond the missile in the background, is the massive Prudential Insurance building, one of the taller skyscrapers in Saigon. Also across the street from the museum, is a Mercedes Benz dealership. I recall the two Mercedes I recently saw with the Prime Minister’s motorcade, along with other American made vehicles.

A Russian built surface to air missile, points skyward over the Prudential Building.

These days the car dealerships are getting much more attention than this museum, and the power of commerce is evident throughout the city. With the rise of business, and the decline of communist dogma, one thing is clear. The Communists may have won the war, but the capitalists have won the post-war.

INSANITY OF SAIGON STREETS

With millions of motorbikes in the city, the downtown rush hour resembles a bee hive.

As compared to the rest of slower paced Vietnam, Ho Chi Minh City (aka Saigon) teems with a fast paced, frantic energy. At no time of day is this more evident than at rush hour, when traffic is taken over by more than three million motorcycles. Walking across the streets during rush hour these days is like taking your life into your own hands.

It wasn’t always so. Until a few years ago, bicycles ruled the streets here. Environmentalists back then were pleased with the city’s low engine emissions, but it wasn’t to last. The turning point came when cheap Honda motorcycles appeared on the local market. These were much cheaper than other Hondas sold here, for one simple reason: they were counterfeit. Many cycles on the road today are actually cheap counterfeits made in China. A genuine Honda runs for around $2000, but a new counterfeit costs as little as $300. The quality wasn’t comparable, but with that cost savings, sales of the faux Hondas took off with a frenzy. Calling them motorcycles is a stretch too. With their bulky frames, small wheels, and 100cc engines, Americans would call them scooters. The Vietnamese refer to them as, ‘mot-a-bikes’.

A restaurant I patronize overlooks a major downtown intersection. From my high vantage point, I look down on a constant flow of chaos. The mass of motorbikes below resemble a swarm of honeybees. Their tendency to drive too close together often results in motorbike collisions, one of the leading causes of death in Vietnam. Just a couple years ago, almost nobody wore a helmet. These days, with increased enforcement and a public education campaign, more than 90% of the city’s riders are wearing helmets. Fatality numbers are down, but in rural areas, those wearing helmets are fewer in number. An odd contradiction, is that countrywide, even when adults wear helmets, children riding with their parents on motorbikes rarely wear them.

Vietnam finally has a helmet law. As seen at left, the US Army helmet style is strangely popular.

The most surprising style of helmet motorbike riders wear, are US Army helmets. After the surrender of the ARVN in 1975, there were hundreds of thousands of these helmets left in Vietnam, and motorbike riders snatched them up. Since they don’t have a lot of padding, these wouldn’t be considered safe for a motorcylist in America, but they are accepted here. Some helmets are US original, others newly made here. The old GI style helmets are still popular enough, that someone in Vietnam decided to continue manufacturing them.

Aside from helmets, traffic safety is not a high priority in Saigon. It’s a common sight to see motorcyclists talking on their cell phones as they drive. Adding to the numbers, are motorbike-taxis, known as 'Xe om', the cheapest way to get around town. It’s common to see Vietnamese overload a 100cc motorbike with four or even five people. This isn't legal, but it gives the traffic police the opportunity to extort bribes.

I know a local staffer of the organization Handicap International. She once told me, “Before we make prosthetics for people who lose leg from landmine. Now, we make more for people that lose leg from mot-a-bike accident.”

A common sight in Saigon: an overloaded mot-a-bike

Given the heavy traffic and lack of enforcement, it’s not surprising that HCMC is one of the world’s worst cities to be a pedestrian. Most sidewalks are uneven, and are often totally blocked by merchandise, or parked motorbikes. This forces pedestrians to step out in the street, into the path of more motorbikes. Pedestrian bridges, which would greatly improve crossing the streets over this mess, are almost non-existent.

At rush hour, when traffic is heaviest, impatient motorbike drivers often drive on the sidewalks, brushing by unsuspecting pedestrians. This caused my buddy Kenny, the Vietnam War vet I know here, to lose his temper one day. When one of these reckless bikers nearly knocked Kenny over on a sidewalk, he took matters into his own hands. Literally. “I shoved him, picked up his motorbike, “Kenny told me, “and threw it out into the street.”

Looking at the never ending stream of rush hour motorbikes, you get a sense of just how crowded this city of six million is. More economic migrants arrive from the countryside every day in search of better jobs. The population density isn’t just noticeable here, it’s a national problem. With 91 million people, Vietnam’s population is more than double what it was during the war years. It's by far the most heavily populated country in Southeast Asia. A rather sexist Vietnamese retiree once told me, “Vietnamese lady are very good baby maker.”

Seeing Vietnamese women driving motorbikes, I noticed them wearing rather curious clothing. They often wear wide hats, sunglasses, a facemask, and long gloves going up past their elbows. Every inch of skin will be covered from head to toe. This isn’t for any religious reason. This is because Vietnamese women are obsessed with having white skin, and want to avoid any tanning by the sun.

In Asia, if a woman has dark skin, it doesn't mean that she's just come back from the beach. Darker skin here means that you are a farmer, or a laborer that works under the sun. Traditionally, they are regarded as lower class. Female farmers wearing traditional conical hats will sometimes be covered in clothing just like these motorbike drivers.

It’s no surprise that the biggest selling beauty product in Vietnam is skin whitener!

WHERE THE ACTION IS: SAIGON

A modern day view of the Saigon River from the Majestic, one of the city's oldest hotels.

District 1 is where the action was, and still is, in the former Saigon. This downtown zone includes stunning French colonial architecture, government buildings old and new, and famous hotels that the international press corps used to call home. After years of communist stagnation, the heart of the city is bustling anew once again. The promise of foreign investment has brought big business and foreign corporations back into Vietnam. The country joined the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) in 1995, and later the World Trade Organization (WTO) in 2007. With so much money returning to town, the resulting construction boom is forever changing the old city’s skyline.

     
Since it’s a lovely sunny day, and since the downtown is fairly safe, I decide to make my way around on foot.I begin at the Bellevue, an open air restaurant bar high on the old Majestic Hotel in the heart of District 1. Standing at the railing, I take in the scene of the Saigon River, and the best riverfront view in the city. This colonial hotel dates all the way back to 1925. During that time when Europeans arrived on the docks in front of me, the territory was known as Cochinchine. Affluent French colonists, weary from their long journey, took their first steps onto their conquered land onto the river walk below, before checking into the Majestic to rest from their long voyage. Atop the rustic hotel, I watch the ferries and cargo boats make their way steadily back and forth across the flowing brown waters. The craft chug along slowly, with the relaxed pace of Asia. It wasn’t such a serene scene here when the French left in the 1950’s, as their colonial empire was collapsing.

     
“We were evacuating the French. They were getting their butts kicked,” my Uncle Jim once told me, of his time on the Saigon riverfront. Then he was a US Navy sailor, aboard the destroyer USS Walker. “We were loading up the French nationals and taking them out.”

The former colonial masters had become refugees. They were loaded onto LST’s, and taken north to Taiwan. LST means “Landing Ship Tank”, and these flat bottomed navy vessels were used to transport troops and cargo. Only this time, the LST’s were crowded with so many French civilians, they didn’t have room for cargo. 

Hot drinks in Vietnam today

"They would only let them leave with one small suitcase, my Uncle Jim recalled. "They showed up there with grand pianos, and their cars. They had to leave them all on the pier." With all the excess baggage and debris crowding the dock, what wasn't looted was pushed by a bulldozer onto a barge.  He believed it was taken out to sea, and dumped overboard. With the chaos of those days, my uncle never even made it off of the destroyer. "I didn't want to get off the boat," he said of that troubled time. "My sailor outfit would have made a good target."

Later during the American war years, American military officers and diplomats stayed here at the Majestic. Hotel guests with a riverfront window occasionally had a front row seat to the war too. Looking across the river, jets would occasionally bomb Viet Cong positions on the opposite side. The hotel wasn’t immune. Shortly before the fall of Saigon in 1975, an NVA rocket slammed into this hotel, destroying the penthouse suite.

Looking around, I see guests here are rich tourists and businessmen. Like the city, the Majestic is making a comeback. Downstairs the hotel has a casino, but Vietnamese are barred from entry. Apparently, they only want to suck money out of foreigners. Since I only came here for the view and not a meal, I head to the elevator and step onto the streets. Across the way, I see a coffee shop, the Catinat Café. This is a rare reference to this street’s former French colonial name, the Rue Catinat. For decades, this street had a very seedy reputation. Back in the days of Cochinchine, the neighborhood was well known for its opium dens. The Saigon of old has been called many things. ‘Pearl of the East’. ‘Whore of the Orient’. The odd thing is, various writers of old have labeled colonial Shanghai and Singapore with the same names. Any way you look at it, all three of these locales are former colonial cities with dark pasts.

A few doors down is Maxim’s, catering to rich Vietnamese. Open since 1964, it’s a rare business still open from the war years, thought it's evolved. Besides offering live music and cabaret shows, they have succumbed to the Asia craze of karaoke.

When the French era ended, the Rue Catinat took on a new name. Reflecting its new independence, this road became known as Tu Do Street, which meant Freedom Street. During the American era, Tu Do was the most infamous street in all of Saigon. Back during those years, Tu Do resembled Las Vegas, with countless bright neon signs. There were many night clubs and bars here, catering to American soldiers and the local elite. The street was full of prostitutes, hustlers and drug pushers. One of the streets more notable residents was the journalist Sean Flynn, son of the movie star Errol Flynn. The well known star of ‘Son of Captain Blood’ had turned his back on Hollywood to make a name for himself in Vietnam as a war correspondent. In between his trips to the battlefields, Flynn used to live in an upstairs apartment on this seedy street. Like many in the 1960's, Flynn did his share of drugs, so he fit in just fine on Tu Do Street. Along with the rest of the city today, the street has changed quite a bit. The bright neon lights of Tu Do’s girlie bars are gone now, although there are a couple of low key ‘lady bars’ and massage parlors still in the neighborhood. Most of the street is now a respectable part of the city. This also means more expensive. Many of the shops here now are high end boutiques selling fashionable clothing, expensive jewelry, and artworks.

Vietnamese woman in District 1 stands atop a 4th floor balcony. 
No elevators here.

The strangest shop on the street today is named ‘Old Propaganda Posters’. Taken from the American war years, these framed posters prints are sold as souvenirs, a curiosity from days gone by. Here they sell brightly painted scenes of smiling Vietnamese cadres, gun toting soldiers, and old Uncle Ho. Smiling workers labor in the rice fields. Viet Cong militia take aim at high flying American jets. These prints are now fairly rare, you never see anti-American posters in public anymore. With the war long over, they’ve been replaced by billboards and advertisements. The Vietnamese government now seeks more American contact, not less. 

Out on the street, a cyclo rolls by, with an old driver pedaling along a mother and child as passengers. If you’ve not seen a cyclo, it looks like a backwards tricycle. A one speed bicycle makes up the back end, with a covered chair between two wheels at the front. Saigon once had many thousands of these cyclos, but few are left now. Those that remain are used mostly for tourists. Many cyclo drivers are ex-ARVN soldiers, or former civil service professionals from the old regime. Banned from their old jobs, this was the only work that they could get in the city.

Coming up the sidewalk, a group of schoolboys no older than eight approach me. The bravest one asks, “Hallo, how are you?”

“Fine,” I reply, “and how are you?” They answer by giggling and smiling, and the whole group scampers away. White foreigners are still something of a novelty to many Vietnamese. 

With dinner time nearing, I look for a place to dine. During the 80’s there were few eateries left in town that catered to foreigners. These days there are downtown restaurants of every style. Italian, French, Indian, Japanese, American food, and more. Economic liberalization brought about an explosion in culinary diversity.

A band performs in the dimly lit Tu Do Liberty Bar, 
on what is now Dong Khoi Street.

I stop in a basement restaurant aptly named, “The Underground Bar and Grill”. Although British themed, the chef is French. I order lunch, and then head for the pool table for a game of nine ball. As I play, I look around at the patrons, and notice two odd couples. Each has an older European man, sitting with a much younger, much better looking Vietnamese woman. Indeed, one of the men looks old enough to be not just his girlfriend’s father, but grandfather. Of course, these kind of relationships aren’t unique to Vietnam, they happen in many poor countries. Old, divorced men come to find a young pretty girlfriend or wife. Many attractive young Vietnamese ladies hope to marry an older westerner, seeing it as their ticket out of poverty, and as a way to help their families.

I lose at nine ball, and a waitress approaches, bringing my food. She asks, “Where you from?”

“America,” I answer, wondering what her reaction will be.

“I like America,” she says with a big smile. It seems my country has a better reputation here than I expected.

On my way out, I’m amused by a poster on a bulletin board. “Don’t miss, ANNIE GET YOUR GUN. VIETNAM’S FIRST FULLY STAGED BROADWAY MUSICAL! Featuring the Ho Chi Minh City Ballet Symphony Orchestra and Opera, with the International Choir of Ho Chi Minh City, and The Saigon Players. Showings at the Hung Dao Theater.” I wonder, could it be that Ho Chi Minh City is developing a taste for American musical theater? I don’t think they’ll be showing ‘Miss Saigon’ here anytime soon though.

Back out on the street the sun’s gone down, and I pass by old shop house boutiques. Colonial shop houses were built tightly together, packed one after another. There are still plenty of these in the city, but in District One they are increasingly being torn down to be replaced by larger, modern structures. Continuing down the street, I reach a construction site taking up a large section of the block. Plans are for a skyscraper to be built here. The name of the development is not befitting Vietnam: ‘Times Square’. HCMC hopes to emulate big time capitalism, at least in name.

Back when the communists took over in 1975, they didn’t want anything resembling ‘freedom’ to be seen in Saigon, so Tu Do street was renamed ‘Dong Khoi’, which translates as ‘Uprising’. (This refers to the 1960 rebel uprising against the old dictator Diem’s regime.) In recent years, those restrictions have been relaxed. Down the street I see a reference to the street’s old name, the Tu Do Liberty Restaurant Bar. This ‘Liberty’ restaurant is owned by the communist government. The downstairs restaurant has live music, and there’s dancing upstairs. I climb the stairs to check out the second floor entertainment. 

Walking in, I’m met with a dark scene. The lighting is very dim, and my eyes struggle to adjust. There is only low lighting surrounding the bar, with stage lighting illuminating the entertainment. I’m directed towards some dark tables, but I grab a bar stool instead.

Up on the stage, an older chanteuse in an evening gown is belting out a Vietnamese love song, accompanied by a five piece band. The manager tells me she’s famous in Vietnam, although I wouldn’t know the difference.

After a few minutes, my eyes adjust, and I finally see who’s at the tables. There are much older Asian men, sitting and drinking with young Vietnamese women. It turns out these women work for the bar. I’ve come upon a ‘hostess bar’. Vietnamese men with money come up here to drink and chat with the pretty young hostesses, who keep pouring them more drinks. These couples are much like the others I saw over at the Underground, except that here, they prefer to cozy up in the darkness. In HCMC it’s common for rich men to leave their wives at home, and take out their mistresses to a dimly lit club like this. They have less chance of being seen snuggling here in the dark. For them it’s all about appearances really.

I leave the couples in the dark, and return to the street, with a brighter building facing me on the next block. It’s one of the tallest in town, the 23 floor Sheraton Saigon. With its high end shops and restaurants, it’s for foreign businessmen and tourists with deep pockets. Would you like the Presidential Suite? It will only cost you $2,000 a night, which is more than most Vietnamese earn in a year. I move on.

WELCOME TO VIETNAM

As the jet descends out of the sky into Tan Son Nhat Airport, I peer out the window. Through the overhanging haze I get my first view of the former capital of South Vietnam, a country that no longer exists. In what is now called the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, a vast cityscape stretches below as far as the eye can see. This is my first view of a land that was home to an unwinnable war that haunted my country for decades.

"Welcome to Ho Chi Minh City," the flight attendant cheerfully announces after we touch down. I'm reminded that this place is not called Saigon anymore, at least not officially.

As the jet taxis around the airport, observant passengers peering out the windows notice some of the war’s old leftovers already in view. In a field off the runway, a couple of old army bunkers sit empty and unguarded. This vast airport is peaceful now, but it was also a battlefield. These grounds were once the sight of fierce fighting between American soldiers and the Viet Cong during the Tet Offensive of 1968.

As our jet lumbers towards the terminal, we pass a series of brown, half-cylinder shaped hangars that once housed US military aircraft decades ago. Looking over the wall, I see some of those hangars are still in use by Vietnam's military today. Out in plain view are bulky Russian helicopters, with a slender Russian helicopter gunship parked in the shade. I’m also shocked to see the last aircraft I ever expected to see in this airport: several American made Huey helicopters! These old choppers, the most iconic symbol of the war, are some of the very same helicopters used by the US Army to attack the Vietnamese communists so long ago.

Tan Son Nhat's new international terminal, a sign of Vietnam's push for modernization. (photo: Wikipedia)

When the war finally ended in 1975, Vietnam’s communist government found itself in possession of several hundred captured Huey helicopters. These had been given to the South Vietnamese military, and many were in good condition. These days they aren’t used often, but they have kept more than a few of them in working order. I'd like to snap some quick photos, but if I was seen, taking photos of the military section could get me deported.

These old military reminders here seem rather out of place; it’s mostly commercial airline traffic at the airport these days. All of those American fighter jets that were based here during the war are long gone. But as I look out the window at the terminal gates, I see a familiar sight. Among the many Vietnam Airlines jets at the airport, some of them are American made Boeing 737s. American military jets have been replaced by American civilian passenger jets. I never would’ve guessed that Boeing is now a major supplier for Vietnam Airlines. Well, the war is over. America and Vietnam are at peace, and business between the two former enemies is now growing, even for aviation.

Our flight pulls in at a gate at Tan Son Nhat Airport’s new international terminal, opened just a few years ago. This is no drab communist structure either. Years in the making, the new terminal’s architecture has an open, industrial style; both artistic and modern. I’m starting to see Vietnam’s efforts at modernization. New visitors like me get their first contact with the Vietnamese government at  immigration. Having been through passport controls in former Soviet countries, I expect long lines. But the new arrival hall has 20 lanes open to stamp passports, so there’s little waiting. Immigration here is even faster than back home in the states. The only things old fashioned here, are the uniforms of unsmiling  immigration officers. They are dark green in style, like the uniform of the old North Vietnamese Army (NVA). Old style uniforms in a flashy new airport seem an odd contradiction.

As luggage is collected from the carousel, the baggage tags list their destination code: SGN - meaning Saigon. How strange.

I wonder, Isn’t the official name of this place now supposed to be Ho Chi Minh City? It turns out that for everyday use, the old and new names are more or less interchangeable. This city may be charging into the future, but below the surface the past is never far away.

I grab a taxi, and head out of the airport. Driving along the cities main streets into downtown, my view is bombarded by billboards and neon signs. I’m surprised to see that the propaganda of communism has been replaced by commercialism. Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC) is all about making money now; capitalism has risen again. The old southern capital is now the commercial capital of the country, ironic, since the city was renamed after an hardcore communist. Although Ho Chi Minh died back in 1969, it wasn’t until after the war in 1976 that his communist successors renamed Saigon as Ho Chi Minh City.  Old Uncle Ho would have turned over in his grave over the name change. Although he was the undisputed leader of North Vietnam, Ho was well known for his humility. Had he lived after the war, he never would have allowed Saigon to be named after him.

A comparable example, would have been if a similar name change had occurred after the American Civil War. Picture this scenario: after the surrender of the southern rebels, victorious unionists of the north announce a declaration. The city of Atlanta, would no longer be known as Atlanta. Thereafter, it would be officially renamed, ‘Abraham Lincolnburg’. How ridiculous.

When conquering Vietnamese communists from the north announced that Saigon would be renamed Ho Chi Minh City, this caused further resentment among southerners. Even today, most of the city’s residents continue to call the city by its former name.

Curious, I asked a Hanoian what she calls the city. She answers, “When I’m in the north, I call it Ho Chi Minh City. When I’m in the south, I call it Saigon.”