Short Timer

On the sleeper bus from Nha Trang back to Saigon, my dad confirmed that the small villages he knew of Cam Ranh and the old "Dodge City" have been destroyed. "If the VC didn't destroy them, typhoons did," my dad said.

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Yesterday, at the cafe we've been going to, I told my dad I think I've seen enough of Vietnam. "And you've only been here what, 11 days? Try 365," he said, swigging his beer. Then he leaned back in his chair. "Look, don't worry about it. You've got two days and a wake up. You're a short timer. You're going back into the world."

He explained that back in the day, guys would yell out "Short!" to indicate they only had a few days left before going home. "You'd yell out five! And the other guy would yell out three! Or you'd yell out three! And the other guy wouldn't say nothing. It was kinda like, 'Stuff it up your ass,' if you had less time."

Nha Trang - Cam Ranh Bay - Memories

I could feel my dad's surprise that the old terminal was still there at Cam Ranh Bay airport. He took out his camera and began snapping pictures. Some of the old barracks were there as well.

"I'm really surprised," was all he said.

We walked around, and then headed south in the taxi. The driver pulled over when we saw a walk way down to the beach.

Later, my dad would say he recognized the inlet as soon as he saw it. The mountains surrounding the water. The hill where the compound was.

We didn't get to see the old village. Someone told my dad this morning that it was destroyed by the NVA when they came storming at the end of the war.

The one thing I'll remember is my father and I standing at the water's edge. My father, 62 years old, taking pictures of scenes of his history from 40 years ago.

"I recognized it as soon as I saw it," I'll remember him saying.

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The rain in Nha Trang has been a downer and ended our idea of taking an island tour and sitting on the beach drinking. The locals are incredulous - it has never been like this in November, never, they said. Everywhere there is the fear of global warming.

Tonight we're taking a sleeper bus back to Saigon. Our idea is to spend Monday shopping and Tuesday resting. In the early hours of Wednesday, we'll be headed back home.

Nha Trang

Our flight from Saigon to Cam Ranh was cancelled due to weather. We spent hours at the airport in Saigon and then made our way back to our hotel, and from there we raced to the train station only to find ourselves waiting four hours for the overnight train to Nha Trang.

When we finally arrived this morning, the sky was stormy and it was raining. No island tours in this weather. I slept most of the morning and then my dad and I went to have beers and sodas at this place down the street. I saw a rat the size of a cat.

Without the sun, there's not much to do except walk around aimlessly, looking into little shops, watching the street vendors and saying "No thank you" to just about every one sellling postcards, books, cigarettes, everything.

We both got sick yesterday. Sneezing, coughing.

Tomorrow we're taking a taxi down to Cam Ranh Bay, where my dad was stationed.

The Mekong Delta

We spent two nights on the Delta, on a boat and on a floating hotel. The sunrise on Tuesday morning humbled me; bright orange streaked across the villages overlooking the water.

We meet other tourists, from Belgian and form a tiny group that drinks beer and relaxes in the sun.

We visit so many tiny villages that I can't remember all their names.

My father turns into a gregarious sort; holds court as he regales the other tourists with his Vietnam adventures.

The heat and humidity get to me - yesterday I spent almost the entire day sleeping on the boat.

Today, we're back in HCMC and getting ready to take a taxi to the airport for our flight to Cam Ranh Bay, where my dad was stationed. We don't know where we're staying tonight and this concerns my father. I've written down the names of three hotels and I think we'll be all right.

After the tranquility of the Delta excursion, the noisy streets of Saigon are a shock to the system.

We're leaving in just a couple of hours.

Raining in Saigon

Yesterday we visited the War Remnants museum and the Reunification Palace. Today, over drinks at a nearby outdoor bar, my dad said he thought the War museum was a joke.
"They don't tell both sides of the story," he complained. "If you're going to have a museum, tell both sides of the story. It's only fair."
The War museum told the story of the atocities committed by the Americans against the Vietnamese people.
"I thought this trip would change your perspective, but somehow, I think it's getting worse," I told him.
"Hey, the Viet Cong committed worse crimes against their own people," my dad said. "They started it."
"Oh, listen to you! They started it! Jesus!" I said.

Today, we visited the Cu Chi tunnels. The bus ride took forever - a suicide mission through crowds of motorcycles and cars. We bounced up and down in our seats on the way there.
The tour guide was a Vietnam veteran as well, fighting on the American side next to John Kerry of all people. He was a search and rescue officer. His grandmother was killed in the war, and he choked up as he told this story.

My dad wouldn't step foot inside the Cu Chi tunnel structure. He waited at the concession stand for us.

The thing is, he does have a point. All that we've seen and heard so far about the war is heavy propoganda. The short film we watched at the beginning of the tunnel tour talked about the "crazy devil" Americans, and how the clever, industrious Vietnamese triumphed against the American enemy.

We walk up and down the congested streets, the thousands and thousands of people, the smells of street food and stalls of every good imaginable - gold, clothes, jewelry, shoes ... we walk in large circles around District 1, never panicking when it appears we might be lost. We eventually find the outdoor bar and settle in for a few beers.

Tomorrow is our last night in this hotel and we're spending two nights on the Mekong River. Not at a hotel by the river, but actually a floating hotel on the river itself.

My dad looks outside to the showers pouring from the sky.

"This is Charlie weather," he says.

Our First Night in Vietnam

Not much to report. As we made our way through customs, once we got outside, my dad said, "Fucking humidity. That's one thing I don't miss."

It is hot and humid here in Ho Chi Minh City. We arrive in one piece to our little backpacker's hotel. The kind lady at the front desk recommends a bar for us. We drink three beers, while my dad mentions the Saigon River, which we saw from the back seat of the maniacal cab ride from the airport to the backpacking district.

"Used to be, you wouldn't be surprised to find dead bodies floating down that river," my dad said in the outdoor patio of the bar. "What was it, '69? When there got to be so many bodies clogging up the river, the boat traffic couldn't get through. They had to start plucking the bodies up."

While he drank budweiser and I drank Vietnamese beer, my dad talked about being afraid, in the old days, of being in a bar like this. "Someone might throw something that looked like that" (he pointed toward my purse) "and blow the place up."

The Day Before We Leave

Tomorrow, my dad and I leave for Vietnam. We're flying at 6 am to San Francisco, then at 12:55, we fly from San Francisco to Ho Chi Minh City (or Saigon, as my dad insists on calling it).

I'm excited and nervous. What amazes me even more than my dad even agreeing to go on this trip with me, is that he's also agreed to travel Eve-style which means 1. one backpack (my dad insisted on a duffel bag). 2. No reservations past the first city.

We therefore have a loose itinerary that mainly consists of things I want to do, while the only thing my dad wants to do is buy souvenir dolls (I will get to that part of the story later), and see Cam Ranh Bay, where he was stationed.

Because my dad has agreed to "go with the flow," we're not really 100% certain of what we're doing after we spend the first few nights in HCMC, but when we wrote down things we wanted to see, our schedule looks something like this:

Wednesday, November 20 - fly
Friday, November 22 - arrive in HCMC at 10:10 pm. Check in to the Blue River Hotel for three nights. (the hotel is sending someone to pick us up at the airport).
Saturday, November 23 - explore HCMC, including a trip to the War Remnants Museum.
Sunday, November 24 - Visit the Cu Chi Tunnels. So far, my dad has refused to actually go inside the tunnels.
Monday, November 25 - check out of the hotel and take a cab to the Mekong Delta village of My Tho. Spend one or two nights at one of the hotels in My Tho (unless we get a better recommendation from a local).
Monday or Tuesday - take a tour of the Mekong.
Tuesday or Wednesday - head back to HCMC and either fly (most likely), take a train (less likely) or bus (least likely) to Cam Ranh Bay.
Wednesday or Thursday - spend one night in the village of Cam Ranh. This will be the most important part of the trip - this is the closest village to where my dad was stationed.
Thursday - Sunday, November 30 - take a shuttle to Nha Trang and spend three or four nights at the Perfume Grass Inn.
Sunday or Monday, December 1 - Head back to HCMC.
December 3 - Leave Vietnam.

Since there's a lot of wiggle room, I suggested to my dad that we take a boat up to Cambodia, a very popular border-crossing for tourists, but my dad said, "Absolutely not."

I talked to my dad earlier on the phone and asked him if he was excited.

"That's not exactly the word I would use," he said.