It's been raining a lot. Thus, the name, "rainy season." This weather has a beauty of its own, but it is best enjoyed from a stationary position, underneath an awning or preferrable, inside your room. Sometimes we venture out to do long days of walking and sightseeing and vegetarian restaurant research on these days, because sometimes, you can't wait for the rain to stop. One positive thing about the rain is that it is helpful when bargaining for rooms, i.e., "But its rainy season, how about $5?" More importantly, it keeps the country green and lush. We made it from our last stop in the DMZ area to Hue, the "ancient" capital of Vietnam. We assumed ancient, as it does in most of Asia meant something from 500 years, 1000 years, or even older. However, Hue was the capital of Vietnam from 1802-1945, serving as the imperial capital of the Nguyen Dynasty. Vietnam's history is over 2000 years old, so we found it interesting Hue is considered so "ancient." Furthermore, if you google "ancient capital of Vietnam," Hue will not be the first, second, nor third result. Interesting. Although a nice city, we spent our few days there completely drenched and underwhelemed by this UNESCO World Heritage Site. Although not pictured, we toured the citadel, which is Hue's main attraction. It was completely flooded which is not uncommon due to the street level coy ponds that flank the entrance.
Kara in Hue, very wet even under Marmot raingear and street poncho/nylon blue potato sack that broke about 6 minutes after buying.
Outside our hotel. Our street had particularly bad drainage issues. The cyclo drivers, moto riders, and bikers were undaunted. This guy wanted us to go for a ride in his cyclo. Instead, we walked for 5 hours in the rain, touring the city. This is also the day Max's shoes became unwaterproof. They still smell, and are still damp. It is over a week later.
From Hue, we traveled to Hoi An, another UNESCO World Heritage Site City. UNESCO seems to have been pretty liberal with this designation, because the city is nothing but a tourist trap, filled with identical shop fronts boasting identical silk merchandise. The majority of Hoi An is just kitchy silk stores. To be completely honest, we were extremely disappointed to see that a once culturally diverse and historic port city had become completely devoid of character. We had read that it was a World Heritage Site because of its architecture, but the only architecture in the town was one story buildings that were covered by these tacky t-shirt stalls, plastic chachkies, and mannequins sporting a silk outfit you can own for "only" $100. This completely destroys the old port heritage that is why it got the UNESCO name to begin with. Hoi An does have a lovely beach, though even the beach is filled with people trying to sell you their "crafts" left and right. Look, we understand people love kitch, and when you travel, its important to get souvenirs. We also understand people need to make a living. We understood, however, that we needed to get out. So we did.
After renting a motobike the next day, we drove out to the Cham Temples at My Son. These temples are a great example of ancient Cham architecture and are situated in a very majestic valley beneath a striking mountain. We were really pleasantly surprised by how the preservation process of these temples had taken place, as some of the temples seemed like they were being actively groomed, while others had moss, vines, and grass growing around them. This two-toned preservation process allowed access to the site while retaining its mystery.
Cham Temples. Just after we got caught in the rain. There used to be many more structures standing, but it was bombed heavily after the North Vietnamese Army started to use it as a base.
Inside one of the temples, which is now been converted into a "gallery" of sorts for out of place artifacts, you can see a deity placed next to the bomb shells that made her homeless.
Ancient sanskrit in Vietnam. Kara thought this was so cool. The Cham dynasty spread Hinduism throughout much of Southeast Asia, which is something we didn't know much about.
Although much of the site is very well preserved, we snuck into one gallery that was still being worked on when no one was there and found so many of the artifacts being used as stands for water, work tables, and in this case, a motorbike helmet.
We drove back to Hoi An to get a glimpse of the ocean before taking the bus the next morning.
Quang Ngai and the My Lai Massacre. This was the heaviest day for us so far, emotionally. We took a bus from Hoi An to Quang Ngai and had lunch at a local street kitchen after being dropped off at the edge of town by our minibus. These kids came up to us and were so persistent in trying to start a conversation that they actually used our phrasebook to ask us sample questions. Their English was really good, especially their reading ability. Better than our Vietnamese for sure. Later we gave them our sparkly sea horse stickers and they kept covering up their hands or cheeks where they had already put them to ask for more. Sneaky little guys, they were. But very cool kids.
Phrase book and Max. It was nearly impossible for Kara to get a shot of them reading without them posing for the camera, damnit. Anyways, you get the point.
We came to Quang Ngai for one reason, to see where the massace at My Lai took place. On March 16, 1968, about 30 US Soldiers were dropped off by helicopters in the outskirts of Son My Village. The soldiers were commanded to kill anyone they saw and burn every house in this small hamlet. The area was notorious for resistance to the French and later the Americans. All villagers were to be treated as enemy combatants even though the majority of the villagers were civilians-- women, men, children, the eldery. In one day, an estimated 504 people from the hamlet of My Lai were murdered. We had grown up hearing about this massacre from our text books, history teachers, and parents. It was important to come here. This was a sick day in the history of the world, and in the history of the war.
Statue of the fallen outside of the museum at My Lai. The Museum sits on the grounds where the village once stood.
Plaque of the names of the dead.
US bombs dropped on the village after the massacre to destroy evidence and to continue the war.
The whole massacre was captured on film by United States Army photographer, Ronald L. Haeberle. He later released the pictures to Life Magazine, which brought international awareness to the incident and further fueled the anti-war movement.
Walking along the now paved walkways of the My Lai hamlet. The village has been preserved as a memorial. The foundations of many of the houses have been rebuilt by surviving family members in their original locations. Each plaque at the foundations states how many family members were killed, their names, and their ages. Many of them were children. The footprints in the walkway make the village feel more real, they make it feel like people actually lived there. Because they did.
Reading one of the plaques at a foundation.
Mass grave of 12 people killed at My Lai. Soldiers lined people up in ditches and shot them en masse. Some accounts from survivors explain that they only reason that they are still living is because bodies that were piled on top of them helped shield bullets.
There were a few outspoken soldiers who knew this was wrong and who fought against their superior: Hugh Thompson and Lawrence Colburn. They landed their helicopter between soldiers and fleeing villagers. By setting their guns on their fellow soldiers and stating that they would open fire if the soldiers opened fire on the villagers, they were able to save a reported 10 lives. We salute you men for speaking out and trying to stop this horrible horrible horrible horrible horrible horrible horrible thing.
Monument to the victims of the My Lai Massacre. We placed two small rocks here, following in a Jewish tradition, for rocks don't die like flowers, or burn out like incense.
It took a while for us to recover from being here.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
We had to move on from Quang Ngai and My Lai though. We needed to make it to Nha Trang, our next destination about 7-8 hours south. Still trying to work through what we had just seen, it was hard to deal with our motobike drivers who seemed removed from the whole situation. They dropped us off on the road where they helped us negotiate our price to get on a bus to Nha Trang. Once on the bus, we slowly felt like something was wrong. They tried to charge us over 10 times what they had quoted on the road. We asked to get off immediately, knowing very well that another bus would pick us up on the highway (this is where you catch buses almost more frequently than from the bus station.) They wouldn't let us off and wanted to bargain, which at that point was NOT happening. Kara banged on the doors and yelled a lot. It was only after Max emphatically stated that there would be no payment whatsoever no matter where they took us, and they became concerned that Kara was a crazy lady about to break the door did they let us off. On the side of the road.
So the ever resourceful Maximilian made a sign for a new bus while Kara bought dragonfruit and learned how to say "lychee" in Vietnamese.
WE DIG THESE PEOPLE. A new bus did not come, but a group of traveling Vietnamese journalists from Dalat (a city Southwest of our Nha Trang destination) picked us up and took us for free to Nha Trang. They work for one of the local newspapers in Dalat and were on a business trip. They were great conversationalists and restored our faith in humanity that day. They also treated us to coconut milk and FIZZY WATER, which made Kara love them. Thank you wonderful people. We hope to see you when we arrive in Dalat.
Nha Trang: kind of a mix between Vietnam and Miami. Not pictured are the high rise resorts next to the beach. We came here to chill out from war tourism, traveling every other day, and to watch the election.
View from a Cham Temple on the outskirts of town.
We began to feel comfortable again knowing that cheesy cute stuff was all around us. Pictured here: stuffed animal display in post office. Naturally.
The Dam Market towards the end of the day.
A Cham Temple.
"Welcome" mat at Cham Temple. Also interesting. Kara has been to more temples than you can imagine, and she has never seen the welcome mat before.
View from top of temple.
Hot springs! Well, kind of. The "hot" spring was closed for repairs, but the warm pool, filled with mineral water was spectacular. Max is lying, prostrate at hte bottom.
Max really liked the water. So did Kara. Kara's weird motorbike exhaust pipe burn felt very healed after this day.
Water jets with mineral water. They looked a lot better than they felt.
Since we are writing our veggie book, we thought it might be interesting for you to check out what we are a) writing about and b) eating EVERY day. Here is a "com chay" stall. Com Chay means vegetarian food. It is, in fact, vegan. The options at most of these fast food restaurants are a choice of rice topped with fake meat and some vegetables, or soup. Com or pho. Com= rice option; pho (pronounced 'fuh',) = soup.
Close up of the "com" option. You can see the "drumstick," just to the left of the rice pile. Fake meat assembled on a bamboo stick. This really grosses Kara out; Max loves it.
Large white buddha statue, erected in the 1960s. It is one of Nha Trang's most disinct landmarks. High on a hill, it can be seen from much of the city. It is a monument to peace, and also the Buddhist monks who set themselves on fire in protest of the Southern government's repression of religion during the Vietnam War.
