The first glimpse of Vietnam I had out my library window this morning was a very strange experience. It was like looking out at a slightly abstract painting. The water here is almost exactly the same slate grey color as the sky, giving the odd impression that the jungle is suspended in some sort of mid-air nothing-ness, like a distorted, heat-hazed version of Neverland, only without the pirate ships. I’m relatively sure that we don’t qualify as a pirate ship.
I realize that M.A.S.H was set in Korea, not Vietnam, but none the less I can’t help but have the theme song running through my head. Somehow it’s appropriate
Through early morning fog I see,
visions of the things to be,
the pains that are withheld from me,
are realized and I can see…
It must have been hell. I can only imagine how much hell it must have been. The temperatures here are over 90F before 10 o’clock in the morning, and continue to hike all day, the humidity is such that the second you step out of the blissful A/C of the ship everything you’re wearing, no matter how light or filmy, clings to you like a second skin. Oh yes, it must have been hell.
The port itself has little to offer, it was almost intimidating in its barren-ness. Really, the only reason we stop here is that it’s the gateway port to Saigon, but you can’t actually go to Saigon without a visa (something they neglected to tell us beforehand), so there isn’t a great deal to look at save the temporary market that they set up in the dusty heat of the port parking lot, manned by men and women in rice hats and cloth masks to defend themselves from the constant beating they take from the sun.
We were supposed to be provided with taxis to take us from the port to the small resort town nearby (which you did not need a visa to visit), but found that for some strange (though I suspect pre-arranged considering what came after) reason there were no taxis at the port at all, but by coincidence the port shuttle driver was offering to sell passage to the resort. Thing is, his price kept sliding, getting higher and higher until finally even the most trusting of us got suspicious and walked. You do have to give them credit for trying though.
There was something about this port I did not like from the moment I clapped eyes on it, and I suspect that it had something to do with the land itself. Its very easy to get the sense that the land here is not happy, it has memories, and those memories aren’t good ones.
I was quite relieved when we put the port to our rudder and moved on towards Singapore.