Travails of a Freckled Fool: March 2015

Friday, March 27, 2015

Visions of Vietnam

Hanoi pagoda

Vietnam telecom

the simple life

water chestnuts for sale

offerings to Buddha

rice fields in the mist

well, hello there

xin chow!

dragonboats on Perfume River in Hue

need a ride?


mandarins of yore

snakes = virility

lanterns light up the night in Hoi An

beach on Con Dao

the freckled one is dragonfruit

morning calm on South China Sea

Villa Song on Saigon River

fresh from the pit

the easy life

temple incense


tough to say goodbye to this

Saturday, March 14, 2015

The Courtesan of Indochine

Check out the long, curvaceous coastline of Vietnam:

Looks to me like a woman’s upper torso in profile: the conical-hatted head in the north where the capital of Hanoi and the Communist powers-that-be are located; the sensuous nape of the neck and spine cradling the heart of the country; and the voluptuous buttocks rounding out into the South China Sea. I even see the tributaries of the Mekong Delta as her sexual and reproductive center, the gestation of the national id.

Vietnam’s seductive charms are many and indisputable: exotic foods (flavors, ingredients); mystical karsts; lush rice paddies; impressive pagodas, tombs, temples; gorgeous beaches; and ancient arts and crafts (lacquerware, lanterns, silk, jade, water puppetry). She also entices foreigners with her insouciance, the attitude of a confident woman who couldn't care less what others think.

At the same time, there is something slutty about her. A willingness to use whatever wiles necessary to get what she needs -- influence in the past, money today. Through millenia of conquest and ravaging by many would-be masters (Chinese, Khmer, Cham, Mongol, French, American, Soviet), she flirted and indulged each in turn but ultimately repulsed them all.

Her painful history of loss and heartbreak ended just a generation ago, and today she is (more or less) the dominatrix of her own destiny. Yet the pattern continues, and she clearly feels no compunction in prostituting herself for practical means: to the Communists in order to keep the peace and pursue her capitalist endeavors; and to the travelers whose presence is merely tolerated in order to relieve them of gazillions of dong.

Modern tourism in Vietnam is very young and inexperienced, still working through growing pains and teenage-typical moodiness. Sophia and I are treated with obsequious politeness by those in the hospitality business and with an oblivious disdain by all other locals. But somehow, despite this schizophrenia (or maybe because of it), the country remains beguiling and we forge doggedly ahead in our discovery of her difficulties and delights.