Thursday, May 24, 2018

Vietnam Snapshot






Seems folks in the tourist business in Vietnam are concerned on account of most tourists who visit there don’t seem to plan return trips.  At least that's what I was told over coffee with some ex-pat Americans living in Saigon.  Me, I had turned down a free trip to Vietnam a while back.  That would have been all-expense, including uniform and bullets.  Another story. So this was my first time around. In retrospect, a fine trip and I loved the place. Vietnam could be exciting, mystical at times and often unexpectedly beautiful.  It was also an easy place: easy to get around, easy to find whatever I might be looking for and yeah, easy on the wallet.



And I loved the food, the street food especially. Several times a day I pulled up a low stool at one stand or another sidewalk stands and downed huge bowls of pho - noodles in fragrant broth - or barbecued meats or one of the signature banh mi sandwiches all served up with lots of stuff that I am not sure of, but it all tasted great.  All for a tab that rarely topped a dollar. 


My trip began in Saigon and ended in Hanoi, Along the way there were some tourist sites on the list: The War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Min City, the food markets of Hoi An, Hue, Imperial City on the Perfume River and the vistas of Ho Long Bay.  I got to all of them and they were all as exciting and rewarding as I could have expected.  Along the way I stayed in some odd hotels, a few nights in a Thai stilt house, slept on an overnight train and rode on the back of dozens of ‘motos,’ the kamikaze-driven scooters that are the best way - often the only way -to get around.

Before I left I had posted some questions on travel boards, particularly about how I might expect to be treated as an American, rather specifically an American who was of an age to have served in the military in what the Vietnamese call 'The American War.'  I was told that regarding that tragic period, the Vietnamese people make a clear distinction between the American Government and the American People. Turned out to be true enough. Nobody even asked me if I had been in the
military.   
(making new friends)

For all the horror visited on that country, the bombings, Agent Orange and the rest, there are remarkably few signs of the war.  Saigon is a booming, modern city with a skyline that rivals any Western metropolis.  There is new construction and high-rise building popping up all over Hanoi and some streets resemble Mid-town Manhattan.  Danang’s beaches, once the R&R destination of US troupes are now lined with huge, luxuriously overdone and tasteless hotels that look more like palaces for visiting Saudi's. But there are the red stars and the hammer and sickle flags as  reminders of who won that war.  That and the occasional site of people with missing limbs.  Mines and unexploded ordnance are still a danger. 

So anyway, I have been back home for a while and have had time to muse over the experience. There was much that I missed on this trip, places I would have liked to have seen and enjoyed.  Memories are good and a few probably qualify as tiks on my bucket list.  But I am pretty sure that I will not go back; I am not sure exactly why. 

While I wonder about all that, some snapshots in no particular order:






And not far away from Mr. Kim's place
was this lady who made the absolute best
banh mi in Hoi An.  Or anyplace else.
Mr. Kim who served up the best coffee in Vietnam.. Or at least the
best coffee along the river in Hoi An.  And a Cool gentleman.


And do, I have absolutely no idea of what was going on here.  Like it makes a difference?









A Footnote: 


Back in the Spring of 1964 me and my good buddy Pete Zelin helped a carpenter put together a sort of portable stage.  Regret that I don't remember the carpenter's name, but I do remember that he did most of the design work and we assembled it outside his shop on Bleecker Street on a fine sunny day.  And it worked pretty well.  That stage was set up at any number of political protest events and served speakers and musician and a variety of causes. One in particular was what I am pretty sure was the first public draft card burning as part of a protest over the war in Vietnam.  It was held in Union Square Park and several guys stood on that stage and set their cards on fire.  I was there, but too far away to get a photo.  I knew a couple of the men and at least one did spend some time in jail as a result of that 'illegal' action.




So anyway, cut to my Vietnam trip and visit to the War Remnants Museum. The museum is filled with just what the name suggests: exhibits of that document some of the horrors endured by the Vietnamese people for all those years.  There is also a small section of photos of anti-war demonstrations from around the world, including several from the USA.  And there I found this.  50+ years later, there is the draft card burning on that stage that we built!

Cool, right?


Wednesday, May 2, 2018

Silk

Hue, Vietnam. Through the doorway of a lovely wooden building in a park along the Perfumed River, I saw these women working at a long table. They were embroidering these very finely detailed images on to very sheer silk. They didn't seem to mind me coming in and wandering around. As it turned out, it was a sort of museum. There were many pieces on display in several rooms. A lady who spoke a bit of English showed some to me. One striking piece covered most of a wall; it took ten women two years to complete.  A truly amazing experience. Sadly, my snapshots only show a fraction of the beauty of it all. 















Sunday, April 29, 2018

First Sign Of Spring: Return of BFM!



The First Sign Of Spring In Union Square Park:
 The Return of Brother Fartman,
Your Friend and Mine! 
He's back and all bodes well for the new Season:


With whispered murmurs. Yes, to me, O Spring !
Thou com'st unwelcom'd by a smile of joy;
To me ! slow with'ring to that silent grave
Where all is blank and dreary ! Yet once more
The Spring eternal of the soul shall dawn,
Unvisited by clouds, by storms, by change,
Radiant and unexhausted 







Saturday, April 21, 2018

Enough?














Enough: to indicate that one is unwilling to tolerate any more of something undesirable.







Sunday, April 1, 2018

And So It Came To Pass..........




"Do not abandon yourselves to despair. 
We are the Easter people and hallelujah is our song.”
-Pope John Paul II

















Thursday, March 29, 2018

today's funeral



















Christopher (Tripp) Zanetis, 37, was a member of the Fire Department of New York City and held the rank of Major in the New York Air National Guard. He was killed in a helicopter crash in Iraq along with 6 other service men. Today he was honored in a “Celebration of Life” that began at his old East Village firehouse and continued in Washington Square Park.

He received a law degree from New York University and joined the FDNY after the September 11th attacks. He deployed in Afghanistan with the New York Air National Guard in 2012.

He was also one of the first firefighters in the city to come out as gay and was active in the fight for gay rights.





Sunday, March 25, 2018

It could begin here........

As best as I remember it, it began for me when I was 14 and walked a picket line for the first time. It was in front of the Woolworth's Store on 34th Street in Manhattan. A friend told me about it. They were picketing on account of Woolworth stores in the South weren't serving people at their lunch counters on account of they weren't white. I had no political interest at the time, but the idea just seemed stupid. So that's where I started. My parents, products of the Depression and the McCarthy era, told me that if I walked a picket I could never work for the Post Office. I didn't know if that was true, but the only person I ever knew who worked for the Post Office was my Cousin Simon and he was a complete jerk. Anyway, I walked that picket line. Later on some friends of mine got beat up for riding a bus down south someplace. One who I sort of knew got killed.

A few years later I had the privilege of coordinating 150 volunteer photographers as we photographed the largest anti-war demonstration in the history of New york City. Along the line, we made it impossible for a miserable failure of a President to run for office again, got to watch a totally corrupt President quit in disgrace, began electing candidates that we wanted, sowed the seeds for movements that empowered women and gays and on and on it went. It wasn't perfect, but it was a beginning. So today I got to watch these kids – same age as I was that first time – standing up and demanding change. Maybe for them, it'll begin here.