PEDOPHILE FIGHTER OF NHA TRANG

Nha Trang street scene, near the beach

One night I was out dining in a restaurant in the south, when the largest Vietnamese man I had ever seen approached me.

He asked,  “Would you take our picture?” 

I obliged, and taking his camera, snapped a photo of him and his wife, a beautiful blonde American. He had to be one of the tallest, most muscular men in all of Vietnam. I had no doubt that he was Vietnamese, but he spoke perfect English. I recognized him, but decided not to intrude on his privacy. I had just encountered Vietnam’s most famous refugee of today. The burly man was Dat Nguyen, former linebacker of the Dallas Cowboys in the National Football League.

The Vietnamese have a name for former refugees like Dat, that have returned to Vietnam. They call them Viet kieu, which means ‘returning Vietnamese’. Most of these refugees have returned in the years after the economy liberalized. Some like Dat Nguyen come back only to visit, while others move back for the long term and invest in local business. The Vietnamese who never left tend to view these returnees suspiciously, although they still do business with them.

In Nha Trang, I met a very unique returning refugee named Kim. She was one of the Viet Kieu who came back and stayed. Being of Chinese descent, her family fled as refugees in 1980, after the border war with China. At  the time the Vietnamese government was repressing the country’s ethnic Chinese.

“I lived in Canada,” Kim told me, but her stay there wasn’t permanent. After reaching adulthood, she returned to Nha Trang in the 1990’s as a teacher, and later opened a bar. Settling in for the long term, she became part of the community.

One day outside a pagoda, she was speaking to a Vietnamese street child, and was horrified to learn that the youngster was a child prostitute. Investigating further, she came to learn that child prostitution in Nha Trang had become a serious problem.

By 2002, Nha Trang had become a seedy location for pedophiles to meet their victims. The beach was littered with syringes, used condoms and other rubbish. The town had become a foreign pedophile magnet.

Unbelievably, local police paid little attention to the problem, even though some of these children were human trafficking victims. They had been brought down from a poor village in the north, forced to sell postcards in Nha Trang. When Kim tried to have some of the pedophiles arrested, the police told her, “What do you care? They’re not your children.”

Frustrated at their unwillingness to pursue these perverts, Kim and her Australian boyfriend began fighting the pedophiles themselves, sometimes literally. In more than one instance, they physically attacked these men.

“The police started calling me ‘Crazy Kim’, she told me in her pub. “That’s why I call this Crazy Kim’s Bar.”

'Crazy Kim' speaks to the children at her annual Christmas Party

As she sought to have the pedophiles prosecuted, she fed information to the local police, foreign police, and even to Interpol. Her Australian boyfriend helped with her crusade for a while, but he eventually left. The lack of action by local police was frustrating. Still, there was some progress. Two pedophiles who had been visiting Nha Trang, were convicted and imprisoned in Germany.

International media eventually brought the problem of foreign pedophiles in Vietnam to the world’s attention. In 2005, the infamous rock star Gary Glitter made headlines when he was arrested and convicted for abusing two underage Vietnamese girls in Vung Tau, another beach town further south. He was convicted, and spent two years and nine months in prison before being deported in 2008.

As Kim got to know the street kids better, she learned that none of the children were attending school. So she expanded her assistance to include education, and she opened a room adjacent to her bar as a one room schoolhouse.

Crazy Kim’s Bar also began selling t-shirts, emblazoned with the warning message, “Hands Off the Kids”. Some of the street children began wearing the shirts as well.

Seeing my interest in Kim’s work on behalf of the children, Kim said to me, “Next week we’re having a Christmas party for Nha Trang children. Would you like to come?”

How could I refuse? Most Vietnamese are Buddhists, but the spirit of giving at Christmas isn’t just for Christians. It’s a time to share with everyone, especially with children in need such as these.

I came to the party, and what a sight it was. The children packed the bar’s back room for the festivities. As I greeted Kim, one boy who looked about eight walked in, and immediately approached her. He gave Kim a big hug, before joining the party. As he walked away, Kim told me his situation. “His mother is a prostitute.”

Nha Trang's children enjoy themselves at Crazy Kim's Christmas party

Not all of the children attending were street kids, this party was inclusive. For the children from tough backgrounds, today was a day they could forget about their problems. Kim left me to attend to the party, and I watched the celebration in amazement. The children received Santa hats, and donated presents. Older children helped the younger kids with food and refreshments. For entertainment, they had a DJ, karaoke, and a hip-hop dancing show. The children ate it all up. A good time was had by all.
 
In recent years Nha Trang's beachfront has been mostly cleaned up, both of trash, and the pedophiles. Now it’s clean, suitable for family vacations. The beach is popular with foreigners and Vietnamese alike. 

With Nha Trang’s public image vastly improved, the beach town hosted the 2008 Miss Universe Pageant. Won by Miss Venezuela, the event was broadcast worldwide. With that kind of exposure, it’s no surprise that Nha Trang has become the most popular beach destination in all of Vietnam

Through Kim’s work protecting the children, and through her efforts to draw  public attention to the problem, the number of foreign pedophiles visiting Nha Trang has declined drastically. Today, her classroom continues teaching the kids, only now many of those attending are not just abused street children, but also kids from poor families.

Now in her 40s, Kim has put on a few pounds since those early years. She doesn’t have any children of her own, but one thing is certain. Kim’s efforts to protect Nha Trang’s street kids have saved countless Vietnamese children from sexual abuse. Vietnam's foreign pedophile problem has not been totally eliminated, but thanks to Kim, it has been reduced.

Who says that one person can’t make a difference?

MEETING THE FORMER ENEMY VIET CONG

Entrance to the old citadel outside Nha Trang

He’s way over 70 years old, but there’s still something youthful about him. Through his small set of glasses, you can still see a genuine sparkle in his eyes. Although he’s gaining in years, he hasn’t lost any of his charisma. He can’t hear out of one ear anymore, but he can hear well enough. Like most Vietnamese, he’s small in stature, though stocky. Although retired, he remains active, and does tai chi in the park every morning for execise.

This friendly man’s name is Ho, as in Ho Chi Minh, and he was a Viet Cong soldier for 21 years. Ho fought the French, and Ho fought the Americans. I happen to be the first American that Ho has encountered, since the war ended.

Ho, the former Viet Cong captain

Ho wasn’t just a low level Viet Cong soldier or cadre. By the time his long military service ended, he had risen through the ranks to become an officer. Ho eventually became a captain, commanding 300 men and women around the coastal town of Nha Trang.

For a senior who has been through so much, Ho seems remarkably healthy. He was wounded from an American bomb in early 1973; that’s why he's deaf in one ear. Ho still has shards of shrapnel that remain in his body from that bomb. That explosion ended his long military career. Ho married, but due to the wars his wife rarely saw him over the years. She lived in the city, while Ho slept in a cave. Those were tough years for this tough little man. Ho’s a real survivor.

I happened to meet Ho in a memorial park in the old Dien Khanh Citadel outside of Nha Trang. This centuries old citadel was first built by the royal Nguyen Dynasty. The French later occupied it, and during colonial days it was a base for the French Foreign Legion. Years later, it became a US Special Forces base, a post for the famed Green Berets. During the American war, Ho commanded troops that attacked this citadel several times. Ho admitted that their attacks were mostly small scale, just firefights shooting over the ramparts. They never managed to take the fort from the Americans. These days he works inside this same citadel, and the military base is gone. His present workplace is a community veterans center that he manages.

From the moment I meet him, Ho seems genuinely glad to meet me. He’s seen other American tourists in Nha Trang, but he never had an opportunity to speak to them. None of them come way out here outside town, and it was here on the grounds of the old fortress that he approached me and my translator.

Ho has two daughters, and he asks if I’m married. When I tell him not, he says with a smile, “You should get a Vietnamese wife!”

War memorial in the old citadel

 Ho’s not referring to his own daughters, of course. They’re already married, and have blessed him with grandchildren.

Ho asks me if I know about agent orange, and I tell him I do. Then he says, “I don’t fight anymore, but I still fight for justice for agent orange.” Ho has suffered health problems due to agent orange exposure. That’s not surprising, since he spent most of the American war out in the forests, which were targeted for defoliation. “Your government paid money to its soldiers who had disease from agent orange,” Ho says, “but still they give no money to Vietnam.” That's not entirely true, though I'm not going to argue with him. The US government has given some money to Vietnam to help clean up agent orange sites, but the amount has been woefully inadequate.

With all Ho’s been through, I’d think that he would still despise Americans, yet he doesn’t. I ask him what he thinks of Americans today, and he’s quick to reply, “No hate. No hate.” To him, the war is far in the past.

As I’m leaving, he uses both his hands to shake mine. Then he says to me again with that twinkle in his eye, “You should marry a Vietnamese woman!”

Ho’s said that to me twice during our brief time together. After all he endured from fighting the US, he still would like an American to marry a daughter of Vietnam. 

For such a small man, he seems to have a great capacity for forgiveness. 

PORT TRAGEDY AND THE HELICOPTERS' FATE

Nha Trang sea port today. A tragedy occurred here in 1975.

I’m on the south end of the beach town of Nha Trang, above the main seaport. Looking out towards the ocean, several freighters are anchored out in deeper waters, among nearby islands. Overhead the skies are dark and dreary.

The port itself has an odd variety of watercraft. A freighter on the wharf has longshoremen unloading cargo, while ferry boats, and smaller tourist boats that travel to the islands are anchored nearby. With the weather declining, the tour boats sit empty and idle. The most curious here are the circular reed boats. These traditional Vietnamese fishing boats, aren't even two meters in diameter. As one fisherman paddles his small craft towards shore, this centuries old design looks out of place next to modern ships. 

The wind picks up, and the skies look more ominous. I look back out towards the sea, and the view has changed.  I can barely see the freighters I saw only moments before, they seem to be covered in mist. Uh oh, that’s not mist, it’s rain, and it’s coming this way. I’m about to get poured on.

This same Vietnamese port was once the scene of a tragedy, of panic and chaos of the worst kind. In April of 1975, as communists troops were advancing south, panic hit the streets of Nha Trang. The ARVN leadership had fled town, and Nha Trang would soon be overrun. Fearing the advancing North Vietnamese Army, the people of Nha Trang headed to the only escape route they had left, and that was here at the harbor.

Thousands of desperate Vietnamese were evacuated, but the small port and an insufficient number of ships could not accommodate everyone desperate to leave. The chaos to board the ships escalated into pandemonium, as fleeing ARVN troops and panicking civilians pushed towards the ships. Dozens of desperate Vietnamese died in the crush and stampede in this small port.

In the end, most of those who made it aboard the departing ships only delayed the inevitable, since they were evacuated further south. They couldn’t have known that the rest of South Vietnam would soon fall to advancing NVA troops in less than a month.

Cable cars over the port take tourists to the Vinpearl amusement park

As rain falls upon my face, I peer across the port, and a new feature stands out. An immense cable car now runs up and over the port, all the way across to distant Hon Tre Island. At 3320m long, this is advertised as the longest cable car over water in the world. I watch as the passing cable car cabins make their nine minute ride across the water to their destination: "Vinpearl".

One of the largest amusement parks in the country, Vinpearl opened a couple years ago to great fanfare. It’s several amusement parks rolled into one, including a waterpark, an aquarium, thrill rides and animal shows. Although two miles away, the place is easy to see from the port. Giant white letters spelling ‘Vinpearl’ are built into the island’s hillside, much like the ‘Hollywood’ sign in Los Angeles. The Vietnamese love the place, although Australians I spoke to on their way back were disappointed. I think the Aussies were more accustomed to high tech theme parks from back home.

As the deluge continues, I take shelter at a drink stand, and sip green tea until the rain subsides. Then I start my hike back to the downtown. Ascending a hill, I walk past the harbor police, who are still housed in old French colonial buildings overlooking the port. The friendly officers go out of their way to get my attention and greet me, smiling and waving as I stroll past the old fence. There may be occasional foreign sailors about, but apparently not many westerners walk by.

Coming down the hill near the old emperor’s palace, I’m back in the south end of town on Tran Phu Street. This beach front road passes right by the protective wall of the former US Nha Trang Air Base, which is now a Vietnamese Air Force base. This is where my buddy Rick had his tour of duty during the war.

As I pass by, there is little activity to be seen here. It’s a very quiet air base, and I don’t see any movement at all. Maybe the Vietnamese military doesn’t have much money for jet fuel these days. I see only one bored guard sitting in a lonely guard tower. His small tower was built right atop an old American bunker, to give him a better view.

Guard tower on former US Nha Trang air base

When Rick was here, he flew Huey Helicopters and light planes out of Nha Trang  as a US Army Lietenant. In a war so dependent on air superiority, he flew all over the country. “We went everywhere,” he said. “From the delta to the DMZ.”

A benefit of being a pilot, was that he didn’t stay in the field long. He would drop off infantrymen in the field, and fly back to his secure base before dark. It made for a more comfortable war. “I was home in my bunk every night,” he said.

With other Viet Cong relaxing in Nha Trang on 'vacation', the base didn’t have a major attack the year he was there. But there were occasional shots taken at the airfield. “Once in a while Charlie would launch a mortar or a rocket at the base,” Rick recalled. “They never hit anything though.”

As I glance across the runways and the tarmac, I don’t see any more US made Hueys here, like those I saw at Tan Son Nhat Airport. The helicopters Rick flew are long gone. I recall a pub night in Saigon, when I learned where all those remaining helicopters went. That particular evening at the bar, I met Hugh, an American aviation mechanic. He was drinking with a colleague, and the pair were working for a month in Vietnam.

Hugh described his work. “We’re packing up helicopter engines,” he told me. “They get put in shipping containers, and shipped back to the US.”

“How many Huey engines have you sent back so far?” I asked.

“About 200,” he replied.

I was astonished.

A captured US made Huey in a museum

When the war ended decades ago, the communists suddenly found themselves in posession of hundreds of American made Hueys that they had captured from the ARVN. This made the NVA the new owners of the largest helicopter force in Southeast Asia. Some are still in working condition, though rarely used. As for the rest, they were gathering dust, and it’s taken them more than 30 years to finally sell them. As old as those helicopters are, their spare parts are still worth plenty.

While working on the former US bases, Hugh told me how he had stumbled into old workshops, and found them to be time capsules from 1975. All the tools were left in the exact same spots where mechanics left them at the war’s end. Eerily, old packs of cigarettes from the ARVN were still placed exactly where they had left them, more than three decades ago.

Hugh was heading home soon, but he was planning on returning again to pack up another 100 engines. His company would later be transporting the helicopter fuselages too.

What a strange, and expensive, turn of events for American aid. The US had originally given all those helicopters to South Vietnam as military aid. Today, an American company is buying those very same helicopters back from Vietnam that America gave them for free, and is sending them all the way back to the US!

VIETNAM BEACHES AND DEPARTED ARMIES

Scenic Nha Trang, Vietnam's favorite beach town

When looking at the layout of Vietnam, one can’t help but notice that this entire country is one long, skinny stretch of land, whose entire eastern border is one continuous coastline.  And what does everyone love about coasts?

Beaches.

With picturesque beaches, offshore islands and turquoise waters, the southeastern town of Nha Trang is Vietnam’s most popular beach destination. Once a sleepy coastal town, the haven was a getaway for Bao Dai, Vietnam’s last emperor.

When the Americans came to town, for a while Nha Trang became a rest and relaxation (RNR) center for US soldiers during the war. Surprisingly, the beach town was also popular with the Viet Cong for the same reason.

“We didn’t have any big attacks. Charlie (a nickname for the Viet Cong) liked to go there for RNR too,” said Jay, a retired soldier I know. As a US Army Lieutenant, he was based in Nha Trang in 1969. During the time Jay was there, the town was quiet. “You could be at the beach, and the guy swimming there next to you could be Charlie. It was like an understanding. If you don’t give me any problem, I won’t give you any problem either.”

As strange as that sounds during wartime, there were a couple vacation places in South Vietnam that saw less fighting, since soldiers from both sides used them for RNR. While Rick was there, Nha Trang was one of them. “Americans didn’t bother the Viet Cong, Viet Cong didn’t bother the Americans,” Jay said.

There were periods of heavy fighting around Nha Trang, but for a while, it was an RNR destination for US soldiers. That brought with it the usual vices that soldiers pursue in war zones, namely bars and brothels. “We would go downtown to get drunk, and to get laid,” Jay said of those days. “We had curfew at nine pm. Some guys would just stay out all night, sleep with their girlfriends, and come back the next morning. There was no bedcheck for officers.”

The Nha Trang skyline today, with the ocean at upper left

As I walk through downtown Nha Trang, I see it’s still popular with tourists, with fewer bars. There are plenty of restaurants, art galleries and travel agencies. Most of the hotels are smaller family owned places, but there are also new mega-hotels. It’s a major change in development from Jay’s days here. “There were no buildings over four stories then,” he said of that time. Jay would hardly recognize Nha Trang now.

Heading back to my hotel, I came upon something that Jay would recognize. My eyes widen at the sight of a 1960’s era American military jeep. Parked in front of a bar, it had the logo of the USMC, the United States Marine Corps. The workmanship looked all the same, the instruments, the military antennae, everything. This jeep was known as a '151' and though common during wartime, very few are left in Vietnam. 

I’ve been told that back in the 1990’s, an Australian had bought up hundreds of the old American jeeps still in possession of the Vietnamese Army. He then packed them all up, and shipped them off to Australia. I had seen only one genuine 1960’s era American jeep during my entire time in Vietnam, and it was used by the Ho Chi Minh City fire department. Although in good condition, it looked like no other jeep in the world. It was painted bright red, with whitewall tires.

But what about this one in mint condition? I couldn’t believe my eyes, this dark green jeep before me in downtown Nha Trang looked like new. How did this jeep survive so many decades, in such excellent condition? Examining the jeep closely, I walk around it for a better look. Then there on the back of the jeep, in small lettering, was the reason it looked so new: “Made in Vietnam”!

A counterfeit US jeep near the beach, made in Vietnam!

This was a counterfeit jeep. As it turns out, somebody had copied the design locally and began manufacturing them a few years back. This was not the only time I would see such a jeep in Vietnam, I would see more of these copies in other cities.  This is part of the Vietnam’s strange nostalgia for the war years, which includes the popularity of  American military items.

On my second day, it’s sunny out, so I take an afternoon to venture further around town on foot. I end up atop a hill near the edge of town, and I happen upon a small old military base. This post was first built first by the French, then inhabited by the Americans, then the Russians, and finally the Vietnamese. These days, it’s mostly empty. With the sun beating down on me, I stop at a small restaurant across the street for something to drink. Since there were few customers, the owner had plenty of time to chat with me. As it turned out, the restaurant had been open here for many years, under the ownership of the same family. The old owner had hosted many soldiers as customers over the decades, from many different foreign armies. 

I wondered who he preferred serving here over the years, so I asked him, “Who did you like as guests at your restaurant?”

“Like Americans, he answered. “Americans good customer.”

I thought of the flip side of that question, and inquired, “who did you not like in your restaurant?”

He was quick with his answer: “No like Russians. No money.”

Statue on a Nha Trang military base, once inhabited by French, American, Russian, and now Vietnamese troops

 
Obviously he was speaking of the Russian sailors who stayed here in the 1980’s, who had little money to spare from their meager military wages. The USSR Navy had taken over Cam Ranh Bay after the American departure. But even the Soviet sailors have gone. When the cold war was ending, the Russian economy took a dive. So the Soviets vacated their base here, even before their lease agreement had expired.

Oddly enough, the Russians have invaded Nha Trang again, only this time it’s sun worshipers. With the improvement of the Russian economy in the last decade, the number of tourists in Nha Trang from Russia is on the rise. Their presence has become so profitable, that many local businesses have posted Russian language signs to attract them. As more Russians have money for vacations these days, Nha Trang has become one of their preferred holiday beach destinations. It sure beats Siberia.