Monday, February 20, 2006
What is left of the Vietnam war
Design and Art from Vietnam
We met a lot of people, one of whom was an amazing Cyclo driver, one of the myriad of former South Vietnamese Army who were out of a job and essentially out of the picture for good after the liberation fo Saigon. Net result is that most of these guys and their families, the ones in particular who stayed, are seemingly the ones running street kitchens and cyclo drivers of the city. In two years time they will be reducing the number of cyclo drivers to just 50 registered drivers from the thousands now. Generally speaking the Cyclos represent the poorest of the poor in Vietnam, and the municipal government is wiping out the trades and main income for hundreds maybe thousands of Saigonese in one fell swoop. Not very much in Vietnam (or anywhere) is equitable. He doesn't know what he will do when it comes to it. He is lucky enough in that he picked up decent english in the army and can ply a decent trade among tourists. But not for much longer. He had friends in the States who asked him to leave with him, but hedidnton account of his family. To protect them from the regime accusing them of being a family of collaborators with a traitor son.
Speaking of the regime, we met a Party Member (I assume) in a restaurant in Hue, who was head of the districts' Education Board. We had an interesting enough conversation, but all he was really interested in was what budget we had for travelling. It was an annoying encounter but full of insight. I was telling him that I dont think China is a very good model for Vietnam, but that is the way Vietnam is heading. Primary School is free, but secondary is around $42 per month, and university is about $67 per month. The average wage is about $40 per month. For me from afar and particularly from my Irish perspective, education is the only way up for most people,and beyond that immigration. But it is still well beyond the means of most people.
Mai Loc is a budding photographer from Nha Trang. We bough a couple of his small prints. His stuff is really good. He has overcome many technical difficulties, and more practical difficulties. For example he prints B&W on colour paper (so the quality is grained) because B&W photographic paper is impossible to come by in Vietnam, and ordering it from abroad isn't worth the heartache in a country where customs and excise just love to open boxes that arrive from Europe. There are seemingly quite a few budding artists around nowadays in Vietnam. We met a few sculptors in Hoi An and Chau Doc on the Cambodian border. There was an absolutely fantastic painter whose work we saw in Hanoi - Tran Thanh. He was selling pieces for thousand, but I reckon they were abargain for what ele I have seen selling for thousands in Europe.
I feel perhaps that more than anything else there is a resurgence in self expression, particularly artistic in Vietnam. Although the plastic and painted arts have a long long way to go in terms of subject and invention (the oil paintings and sculptures are generally terrible, though there are some gems), the technique and ability really seems latent in Vietnamese culture, right through from the architecture to the street kitchens. Some of the expression is no doubt borrowed from french modernism and earlier, but the way they have subsequently developed it is quite interesting and they really have a sense of design and skill in crafts that is interactive. They know what a door is and the relationship between inside and out, how a cup should work and seem to think completely from the individual users/buyers/owners point of view. It is designed with people in mind, as opposed diametrically to the Chinese Urban Planning approach to design which is generally imbued with Confucian meaning, but so goddamned big you can only appreciate it from space.
It is quite common that new Chinese blocks will be planned with Feng Shui in mind, but also that their plan would be in the shape of a particular Chinese character, say for Fortune or Happiness. However, unless you flew to work each day by helicopter or plane there is no way in hell you could distinguish this appartment block as meaning anything other than more of the same. From the ground they just pound you down, dwarfing you.
Anyway, Mai Loc had made friends with a Norwegian couple 4 years previously who had returned to Vietnam numerous occassions after. They encouraged his work and this year he was invited to an international exhibition of photography in a town Norway. All expenses trip paid for a month. He is really delighted, but fairly pissed off at the amount of bureaucracy he had to go through to get a visa, even on the foot of an invitation from the Mayor of the city. His visa application weighed nearly half a kilo (450gms to be precise). It is hard to see how he will be able to develop his skills and artistry particularly if he cant study, or perhaps even more practically apprentice with other photographers. All the arts seem young again in Vietnam. Rude and round and unoriginal, like trying to repaint renaissance masterpieces all over again, to somehow garner back some of the glory from the past, but in the end only sullying the original by coat tailing its reputation rather than emulating its craft.
I hope that they put some better stress on education in Vietnam. In my mind they have a latent ability in creativity. At the moment they merely ape what is already there, not unlike the Japanese perhaps, a generation ago. But whereas the Chinese, Malay, Korean and Taiwanese have all to a greater or lesser degree copied (sorry bench-marked) the Japanese, the Vietnamese for me are the ones who seem that maybe they could lead SE asia creatively rather than industrially. Who's to know? A couple of design schools and exchanges could go a long way indeed down here.
Foreigners settled here do tend to bemoan the lack of initiative or creativity of the people though. They are not particularly reknowned for coming up with innovative or original ideas or solutions. However I hope that this is more a legacy of Communist indoctrination rather than inherent. It doenst strike me as such though....
hmmmmm.........
Friday, February 17, 2006
Cambodge depuis Siem Reap
Bon, OK, nous avons aussi adore nos premier jours au Vietnam, donc on ne sait jamais, mais voici un pays ou tout ou presque se fait avec un sourire...
Les relations avec les gens sont directes. Un prix est un prix, un echange de regard est pour de vrai et les sourires sont sinceres.
Phnom Penh n'est pas une tres belle ville, mais les grandes avenues bordees d'arbres en fleur, les rues de terre battue, sa riviere, la nonchalance ambiance la rendent tres agreable.
Nous y retournerons peut etre, si nous avons le temps, pour en explorer les nombreux temples et marches.
Il y a quatre choses que presque tous les touristes vont voir a Phom Penh.
Le palais royal, recent mais tres beau, avec des toites axtraordinaires evoquant des oiseaux et des jardins a la francaise.
Le musee des beaux arts qui abrite surtout des chef d'oeuvres tires d'Angkor a la beaute evidente mais au sens indchiffrable sans guide ou connaissance des religions hindou et boudhiste.
La prison de Tuol Seng et les Killing Fields.
Ces des derniers representent l'autre face du Cambodge, les annees de sang et d'horreur qui n'ont pris fin qu'avec l'intervention des vietnamiens.
Tuol Seng etait une ecole avant détre une prison, tout comme Duch, son directeur, etait prof de maths avant d'etre bourreau. Certains déntre vous ont peut etre lu Le portail, léxcellent livre de Francois Bizot qui a ete le prisonnier de Duch bien avant que celui ci ne dirige Tuol Seng. A lépoque, le jeune Duch etait petri d'idealisme et a fini par relacher Bizot parce que celui ci l'a convaincu de son innocence (chercheur, il etait accuse d'etre un agent de la CIA). Les futurs prisonniers de Duch n'auront pas cette chance. Tous ceux, des milliers, qui passerent par les prison ont ete tues apres etre tortures. Soit dans la prison meme, soit dans les champs d'extermination, les Killing Fields.
Il y a encore des traces de sang sur les carreaux des anciennes salles de classe. Du sang vieux de presque trente an.
Les premieres pieces dans lesquelles on entre ont ete degagees de leurs minuscules cellules de parpaings et abritent des milliers de photos. Certaines sont celles de victimes, hommes, femmes, enfants, vieillards, d'autres sont celles des bourreaux. Jeunes hommes souriants, jeunes femmes serieuses. D'un sens, cette presentation identique sans explication laisse entendre une chose: tous etaient victimes. Quand je suis entree dans la premiere piece, j'ai ete incapable de deviner qui etait qui. Ce n'est qu'apres, apres avoir regarde des centaines de ces portraits que j'ai realise que je pouvais les differencier: les khmers Rouges avaient tous la meme expression sur le visage. Hommes souriants, femmes serieuses. En groupe, ils etaient reconnaissables. Sur les panneaux presentant des photos de prisonniers, on ne trouvait pas deux expressions semblables. Indifference, peur, colere, incomprehension, sourire, grimace, anxiete, audace, aggressivite...
Le lendemain nous sommes alles aux Killing Fields. Le sol etait defonce, creuse de grands trous ressemblant aux trous d'obus a demi combles que l'on trouve on Vietnam. Mais la, ils etaient la trace laissee par les centaines de corps decomposes qu'on leur avait enleves. Des vetements en lambeau et des cranes perces de balles ou defonces a la pelle avaient ete entreposes sur 19 etages entoures de vitres entrouvertes, visible a tous... pour memoire.
Dans la poussiere des sentiers, nous marchions sur des bouts d'os et des dents.
Des enfants nous entouraient, criant "un deux trois photo". Une photo contre un billet. Ils jouaient a deterrer les dents.
Nous sommes a Siem Reap a present, la ville la plus proche d'Angkor.
Le site est un enchantement. Le temps est bien fini ou l'on pouvait se ballader seul entre statues et corniches abritees de fromagers, mais le site est tellement enorme qu'il semble digerer les flots de touristes qui l'assaillent. Encore que ca devienne un serieux probleme: erosion des pierres et polution du site.
Dans les rues de Siem Reap, les extremes se cotoient: hotels au luxe incroyable et familles dormant dans la rue.
Le Cambodge est un des pays les plus pauvres du monde.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Vietnam, cash up front please.
We just had the magic calculator incident whilst paying our hotel bill. Not unique on this leg of the journey, but in this case just unusually blatant, especially as this particular hotel is highly recommended in many guide books. We are in Chau Doc, and the Hotel we are staying in has a calculator that rounds up in whole numbers. For example, if you are changing Dong to Dollars, then it makes some sense to round up or round down. But here it only rounds up. SO if your bill is say 22.05 dollars, it is suddenly 23 dollars. I fixed the calculator for the receptionist. I can't say that she was delighted. I also reduced her rate of exchange from 16000 to 15800 dong to the dollar, a more reasonable level, that every other hotel in the country we've been to uses. When she gave us our change in DOng she gave us the most forlorn, tattered, toilet papered 1000 dong note I have ever seen. We objected on the basis that not even a Buddhist Monk would accept that as an alm. So we got 2 x500 dong notes of similar quality. Service with a smile....
Its not the amount, every time the amount is a pittance, its just that it happens every single time. If the perpetrators were blatant, and say that as you are a foreigner therefore you will pay a different rate than locals (fair enough in many cases I believe) and then display those rates and prices, that is tolerable. But this little insidious greed that manifests itself in the way they try and extract money from you like milking a dry cow is infuriating. Everytime you ask how much, I watch the proverbial eye rolling as they imagine an impossibly large price, or a yacht, I'm not sure which, and then wait for the inevitable magic number. Its like a one armed bandit, pull the lever and see what happens. Except it is always jackpot for somebody else. And walking away doesn't work, even when you know the real price. In CHina, when you walked away, the price would drop pretty damn quick until you were back to talking in real money again. Not imaginary money like here...The fact that they dont drop the price when youy walk away (in general) is proof enough to me that most of these vendors, who are well used to dealing with foriegners, dont need to make the sale. Grrrrrrr. SO it is just pure profiteering.
These are the people we deal with every day and that most tourists have to, bus men on local buses, hotels travel agencies etc etc. And I fast believe that almost everyone of them have absolutley no dignity left in them.
Waiting for a bus yesterday, we had three chaps 'helping' us to flag down a bus. NO matter how much we insisted we didnt need them, there was no escape. They screwed up and had us waiting for two hours. Every bus they stopped for somebody they got a dollar kickback, no avoiding it, that is the deal. Even for Vietnamese passengers. They stopped several buses for us. A couple were full, several were Air conditioned (you pay a big supplement for this luxury and it isnt necessary at this time of year). We knew the fare should be 60,000 max each, in the end we paid 75,000 each, as it was getting late and we had a 7 hour journey on diffiult roads ahead. I gave the Tout 150,000, he gave one hundred to the driver of the minibus, and the 3 touts left on the road just fell into a huge dogfight over the 50,000 (a bit more than 3 US dollars) in his hand. We had been there so long that we had attracted the attention of every tout there was in a 5 km radius. All the rest of the people on the bus were Vietnamese, and they were visibly disgusted. I am sure that what is worse than us being treated like walking wallets everyday is watching a dignified people loose all sense of dignity in the name of pure greed.
The two Cyclo riders who brought us to this place to hail a bus were paid 15,000 each, which is a good price for them. However they did cycle 8km for it, with us and our back packs. Those limpwristed laggards on the side of the road earn it like, well, any travel agent I suppose. (sorry Jim!)
On the other side of the Vietnam story, we climbed Mt Sam today and I played football with a 2 year old with an excellent left foot. It was great, and just one of those glimpses of the real Vietnam under the crud that floats on the surface and greets most foreign 'tourists'. It takes a bit to escape it, but the real Vietnam is still there somewhere, but it is slowly being obliterated for anyone on the outside to see. I will write about all the good people we met here next post, but I just had to vent that one.
And the sad truth is, it is the tourists' own fault.
On to Cambodia! Watch out for those calculators. Phnom Pennh by slow boat, only 8 dollars, and we dont have to flag it down.
Vietnam 2
Nous sommes sur le point de Partir. Le Vietnam pour moi ressemble a une tasse de chocolat chaud, du vrai chocolat fait avec du vrai lait et du vrai cacao. Si comme moi vous n'aimez pas la peau du lait vous comprendrez. Elle colle a votre cuillere, elle colle a vos doigts quand vous abandonnez l'idee d'utiliser une cuillere, elle vous donne vaguement envie de vomir quand elle finit dans votre bouche et a chaque fois que vous l'ecartez, elle se reforme. Vous savez que, dessous, il y a ce lait chocolate delicieux, mais la peau vous empeche de l'atteindre. A moins que vous n'ayez le temps d'attendre que le lait n'ai refroidi suffisament pour qu'elle ne se reforme plus.
Voila, l'industrie du tourisme au Vietnam, c'est comme la peau du lait. Elle est collante, omnipresente, et empeche presque totalement d'acceder au Vietnam souriant, chaleureux et genereux que l'on devine dessous.
A moins que l'on ait du temps. Ou de l'argent. Avec de l'argent on peu se payer un tour prive d'une semaine a moto sur des routes de montagnes, ou un guide plyglotte ultracultive a Hanoi. Avec du temps on peu rester quinze jours dans la meme region et l'explorer en sortant des sentiers battus.
Maleureusement, nous avions trois semaines pour aller du Nord au Sud Vietnam, et pas beaucoup d'argent. Si nous avions su, nous nous serions probablement organises differemment.
Nous avons bien pris quelques tours, une demi journee par ci par la, et tous ont valu le coup, mais en dehors de ca... Difficile d'etre positif quand notre hotel a meme un calculatrice truquee (qui arrondi au chiffre superieur, une grosse difference quand on parle en dollars).
Nous sommes arrives au Vietnam plus ou moins directement a Hanoi, que nous avons vraiment aimee. Une ville ou la moto est reine, au point de monopoliser meme les trottoirs. Les rues du vieux quartier y sont pleines de boutiques incroyables goupees par theme. Il y a la rue des chaussures, la rue des decorations de temples, la rue des motos, la rue des lunettes de soleil, la rue des pots en ceramique... Tout ca assaisonne de temples, cuisines de bordes de trottoirs, marchands de jus de fruits...
Nous y avons passe trois jours avant de partir pour Bac Ha, une petite ville de montagne qui est decrite comme "moins touristique que Sapa". En fait, la raison principale d'aller a Bac Ha ou a Sapa c'est que des minorites ethniques vivent dans la region. Beaucoup de personnes, les femmes en particulier, portent encore leur costume traditionnel. Les marches surtout attirent une foule merveilleuse et chamarree... ce qui n'echappe pas aux photographes professionnels qui sommeillent en chaque touriste. Nous y avons loue un guide et un chauffeur pour aller voir le marche voisin de Cancau, et passer la nuit dans une maison Dai. En fait de guide et chauffeur, nous nous sommes retrouves avec 4 personnes nous accompagant. Bon, LE guide, le chauffeur, un autre gars trs sympas au role indetermine et un apprenti guide de Hanoi qui se comportait encore plus en touriste que nous.
Le marche etait extraordinaire, tout comme celui de Bac Ha allait l'etre le lendemain. En fait je ne suis jamais allee nulle part ou tant de femmes (presque toutes) portent encore le costume traditionnel. En general, le faible coup des jeans et T-shirt a relegue jubes et corsages brodees au role de vetement d'apparat pour occasions speciales, si ils n'ont pas disparu totallement.
Autour de la cheminee de la maison Dai, j'ai essaye de demander a Bon et au garcon de Ha noi si ils avaient un reve. Bon n'en avait pas. Il etait guide pare que rien d'autre ne s'etait presente. Pourtant il etait alle au lycee, et avait apris l'anglais (il etait d'une famille de paysans qui vivaient a quelques heures de trajet de Bac Ha).
Le gars de Hanoi voulait aller au Tibet. A cause du mysticisme tibetin. Il en parlait exactement comme n'importe quel jeune homme occidental en parlerait.
Apres Bac Ha, nous sommes redescendus a Hanoi, puis de la a Hue, l'ancienne capitale vietnamienne. Un tour en moto nous a convaincu de la beaute de la campagne environnante, contrastant avec l'aspect etire, etale de la ville en tissus lache au bord de sa riviere et sa cite interdite ruinee.
Et bien sur, nous avons fait un tour de la zone demilitarisee. Nous y avons eu droit a notre premiere vraie arnaque a touristes avec un tour qui n'etait pas ce qui etait promis et nous a laisse explorant les alentours du site de la base americaine de Khe San quand le reste de notre groupe etait a l'interieur: leur billet d'entre avait ete paye, pas le notre. Mais, au moins, nous avons trouve un obus de mortier non explose, en fait un des seuls restes visibles de semaines de luttes et de litres de sang verse. Les paysans du coin on systematiquement ramasse tous les bouts de metal, helicopteres accidentes, tanks exploses, jeep cabossees, pour les vendre pour etre recycles.
Dans le meme bus que nous etaient quatre francais que nous avions deja rencontre a Bac Ha, et que nous allions revoir a Hoi An... Et ce soir, Nado est a cote de moi devant un autre ordinateur. Ils ont tous autour de la soixantaine, plus ou moins, et voyagent tous les ans ensemble depuis 20 ans au moins.Le soir ou nous les avons rencontres, ils nous ont invites a boire un apero dans leur chambre, puis a diner avec eux. Michel, le plus age, a 72 ans et en parait dix de moins.
Apres Hue, Hoi an, une tres tres jolie petite ville qui sert aussi de point d'acces au ruines de temples Cham Hindous vieux de mille ans... et copieusement bombardes par les americains parce que servant d'abris aux Viet Congs.
La fete du Tet, le nouvel an Vietnamien, a eu lieu le lendemain de notre arrivee, et nous avopns eu droit a un spctacle complet avec discours du responsable communiste local, boys band, et chants traditionnels, suivi d'une danse du dragon effrennee tout autour de la ville. Vers une heure du matin, alors que nous pensions que tout etait fini, que le cortege avait debande, nous avons trouve deux des mini dragons se demenant sous les troboscopes aux sons assoudissant de la techno eructee par une discotheque improvisee: une boutique toute ouverte qui avqit loue d'enormes hauts parleurs pour l'occasion.
Le lendemain, nous sommes alles commander des costumes sur mesure dans un magasin encore ouvert. Comee ca, quand ils arriveront (nous les avons postes de Saigon), nous aurons l'air de vrais professionnels.
Nous avons continue notre route en direction de Nha Trang, commetant l'erreur de prendre un bus de nuit qui nous a laisses incapables de faire quoi que ce soit le lendemain. Mais nous avons aime Nha Trang, et plus j'y pense, meilleurs mes souvenirs deviennent.
La ville est au bord de la mer, dotee d'une longue plage etiree sur plusieurs kilometres. La mer y est chaude et puissante. Au Nord, il y a les ruines de temples hindous Cham, les meme Cham qu'a My Son. Restaures, ils sont aujourd'hui temples boudhistes et l'on y prie devant Boudha apres avoir passe les mains sur un Linga de pierre, symbole de Shiva...
Un peu moins au Nord il y a un village de pecheurs dont les bateaux colores bleus et rouges sont merveilleux.
Une Vietnamienne a Cai Be sur le Mekong... le chapeau conique est plus fort que jamais!
