Here is another piece from my journal. Today was the first time we rode our bikes. Last night we met our group at a hotel near the central park and got acclimated to our guides and fellow travelers. Thanks for the feedback, for some reason I cannot access my blog but I can still post so I hope it's working. Thanks for reading.
Yesterday night pops and I strolled down to the lobby of our hotel to meet up with our group. There are a total of 13 travelers in the group including two local tour guides (Tuang and Thang). Holly is our American leader. She has close cropped brown hair and is pry in her mid 40's.
Before I write about the day's events, I want to write out some observations I've made:
First, everyone here wears sandals. Even when they ride motor bikes (like mini motorcycles). Also, the dynamics of the roads change completely during the course of a day. For example, in the morning you would be hard-pressed to find two people sharing one motorbike. Albeit at approx. 5PM the exact opposite occurs.
Suddenly, everyone in Saigon has a date. Although the girls don't wrap their hands around the men like in the U.S., they simply hold onto the bike. Yet when they stop and park, most young people are very openly affectionate. Here a lighter skin Vietnamese women is viewed more attractively than darker. The rationale behind this is - a woman with dark skin is out in the sun and works a peasant-like job, whereas succesful women in the city are indoors more and thereby not as dark and probably more succesful and better educated.
To compensate for this, almost every woman wears a mask when they are riding scooters and out in public. She also shields herself from the pollution and any carbon in the atmosphere. Good decision in a city as dense as this one.
People are friendly. Especially children. On our bike trek today we passed hundreds of schoolkids and everyone waved and said a musical, "Helllooooo!" It was beautiful. The Vietnamese language is much more musical than ours. When they attempt to speak English they're accents are much different than anything Americans are used to.
I have written down plenty more observations, but I want to give you guys some updates on the trip.
The people in our group come from across the west. There's a couple from Chicago, a couple from Australia, one lady from London, one man from France, one man from Oregon, one man from Colorado, and a young couple from Canada. I'm still learning their personalities (and names) but everyone is intelligent, engaging and liberal. And fit.
On a solemn note, today we rode 30KM to the Cu Chi Tunnels. The tunnels were built by the Vietcong and by the Liberation Movement and used against the United States and Southern VN Army. My eyes welled up. It broke my heart to see man's inhumanity and cruelty.
The Vietcong employed land mines and dug many a booby trap during the war. Even thirty years later civilians are killed or maimed by stepping on them. The traps are intricate and quite grotesque. The Vietcong covered the traps with leaves and were completly hidden out of view. An American soldier would step on the ground and fall down ten feet into either sharp steel bars or razor-sharp bamboo shoots.
The traps were exceptionally efficent. The designs of the traps range, but if the soldier didn't die, he would bleed to death, get infected with tetanus, starve, or have an amputation. These traps are everywhere. Literally every few feet.
The tunnels protected the Vietcong from B-52 bombs (we saw craters from them) and gave them safety on the ground. Americans would walk over hundreds of Vietcong (hiding underneath them), completely unaware. It was such a phenomenol tactical error for the United States to fight here in Vietnam. The land is so lush and the United States camouflage fits in like Castro at a Bush reception. I'm actually surprised there weren't
more American deaths.
The tunnels were so tiny (they've sinced been widen to accomodate tourists) that I could hardly squeeze into the openings. Underneath the ground, only a few feet of space surrounds you. It's remarkably claustrophobic. And the Vietcong lived under there for years.
After touring the tunnels, we toured the War Museum in Saigon. It just made me sick. Nautious and dizzy. I had to sit down at one point because I thought I was going to pass out or vomit. Inside the museum are remnants from the war. There are photographs, preserved tanks and weapons and mock prison cells. The worse part and the most famous are the fetus' in formaldehyde. The deformities are unbearable to view longer than a quick glance. Thousands of Vietnamese to this today have effects from American Agent Orange used during the war.
The photos on the wall tell a story of fear, loss, destruction, pain, anger and grief. If people woke up every morning and saw these photos, there would be no more war. If the politicians and the corporatocracy sent their kids to war there would be no more war. If people weren't angry and dind't live out of rage and hatred there would be no more war.
Which strengthens my belief that there is nothing more brave and powerful than practicing pacifism. I'm astonished I'm in the slim minority in the world that feels this way.
I want to
strongly recommend a fantastic, riveting book right now that breaches these subjects and describes why and how the U.S. acts imperiallistically. It's called Confessions of an Economic Hit Man. If you haven't read it, you need to. Start today.
As I sit and type this and reflect on the days events it's difficult to enjoy the scenery and our jaded lives in America while there is tremendous suffering across the world.
If we choose to live peacefully and not cunsumptively, is that enough? Is standing on a street corner twice a week for three hours enough effort to promote peace? Is crying for one day about the atrocities in the world enough? How can we evolve? When will this cycle of violence end?
I have hundreds of these rhetorical questions swarming around my brain like bees on a hive. It makes it really difficult to focus.
I'm sure these bike rides will give me more time to think.
