I've decided to do a pseudo-travel blog while I’m in Vietnam through Facebook notes. If you have any interest in keeping up with my travels then be sure to check in occasionally. Of course in creating this I’m being completely hypocritical – I almost never read peoples’ travel blogs, even when well written. I, on the other hand, favor formal, run on, dry sentences when writing that make for absolutely shitty reading. I even cringed when typing ‘shitty’, despite the fact I’d use it when talking to just about anyone. Academic writing has ruined me.
Well I’m here in Ho Chi Minh City (or Saigon, as it’s still referred to by a decent chunk of the population), the financial capital of Vietnam and former capital of South Vietnam. I spent most of the morning wandering downtown, dodging thousands of motorbikes and seeing what there was to see. It was pretty much what I had expected; crowded, hot, with a mixture of old and new buildings and plenty of street vendors. The market was cool, but I was saved from spending any time/money there by a smell that could only be ascribed to Satan himself (if Satan worked with assorted and not particularly fresh sea food). Unfortunately the downtown could mostly be covered in one morning, and there isn’t much architecturally to speak of – this isn’t a Rome or an Istanbul.
The most interesting thing I saw was the war museum which was, as my sister put it, surprisingly uncensored though unsurprisingly biased. Well that isn’t actually what she said. She said she was surprised at how unedited it was. I then helpfully pointed out that it was in fact incredibly biased and meant to portray the VC as victims and underdogs. She then made the excellent point that she clearly hadn’t meant it was unbiased, but just that the pictures were fairly graphic, and that I, as an intelligent individual, should have clearly perceived these facts. Furthermore, she helpfully suggested that as I am just as everything I say is contrary rather than helpful, the conversation would be improved should I shut my mouth (by lifting the lower jaw upwards) and refrain from speaking in the future. I’m glad that my sister and I are so close.
Anyways, though the museum was clearly intended to portray the VC as triumphing over a superior force in a ‘war of aggression’, it didn’t demonize America – rather it highlighted the strength of the US troops (which were, of course, ultimately defeated), the US protests and anti-war reporters. The crazy part was where it showed the victims of the phosphorus, napalm and agent-orange attacks. They didn’t pull any punches; there were plenty of extreme photos, weapons and articles. However I’ve been to the holocaust museum – really, this is no big deal in comparison, right? Wrong. What the holocaust museum lacks, you see, are two dead babies. Two dead babies you say? That’s right, two dead, deformed babies, preserved in jars so that you can witness first hand the effects of agent-orange. Well, I suppose there were three dead babies – two were joined at the head and occupied just one jar. But let's not argue semantics; if I’ve learned one thing today it’s that agent-orange is bad because it causes poor, dead babies with birth defects to be displayed in jars.
That disturbing vignette aside, I think I’m going to get some reading done and try to stay up (without taking an afternoon nap) for as long as possible. We’re 12 hours ahead here and my bio-clock is pissed. Mind you, that’s as much from my insomnia during exam period and the 21 hours I spent in airports and planes on the way over here as it is from Toronto/Durham time (which I’m most decidedly not on).
Perhaps once I start biking every day it will fall into step with the normal 24 hour cycle the rest of the human race subscribes too. And I have decided to do the biking despite the torn cartilage in my knee – apparently there’s a good chance they’ll “fix” it by just ‘scraping it out’. Raise your hand if this seems to you like the opposite of fixing it – I’ll just have to squeeze all the use out of it that I can before it’s gone. I should also write a letter to the medical community. Like many of our generation, I’m counting on medical science fixing all of my problems before I can get old enough to have them (I’m looking at
you pre-meds). Since my body has apparently decided to fall apart well ahead of schedule, I’m afraid they’ll need to move up the time table on miraculous medical discoveries.
Anyways, I’ve written enough – if any of you have born with me through to this point I commend/pity you (Orwell is my hero and doublethink my medium). I’m going to go back to
The Glass Castle which is both excellent and a little sad (very reminiscent of
Angela’s Ashes, though not quite as tragic). I’ve already read 1.5 books since leaving Toronto yesterday despite watching three movies and several TV shows on the plane rides over here (for fear of running out of books to read on the trip). Don’t worry though – I brought something like six to eight more. (I’m not exactly sure how many – I bought two more in the airport when I saw a bookstore and immediately convinced myself I’d run out soon without extras. I’m half expecting an intervention when I get home.) Have a Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!
p.s. There are Christmas decorations everywhere here! Apparently everyone celebrates it despite being 80% Mahayana Buddhists. Have you ever seen a thin Vietnamese man in a Santa costume with a strap on white beard?
Labels: biking, books, christmas, dead babies, Ho Chi Minh City, jetlag, knee, medical, motorbikes, museum, sister, Vietnam
