Saigon’s nearest beach

From Saigon, with Russian-made fast boat, you can be in Vung Tau (literally Ship Harbor) in an hour and a half. I made that trip yesterday. Poor man’s vacation. Peace-time R&R. The neighborhood used to be a hang-out place for GI’s, Australian, and every major news agents and double agents. Now the fight has moved on to other theaters. Still I couldn’t help superimpose the scene of Vietnam War last day on it

I even memorized “Toi Di Giua Hoang Hon” (I walk right into dusk). My first trip to Vung Tau as a five-year-old was with my cousin, sister and her husband in a voiture (albeit small one). My Walden.

Then later, our 9th-grade gang went camping by scooters. All  went well on the Western Front . My Eden.

Until we left on a barge, destination US 7th Fleet out in International Waters, also the command center of Operation Frequent Wind.

We were at their mercy :  they would return to complete the task (we were left drifted in the middle of the trip on Saigon’s hottest night in the dark while the city was under siege). My purgatory.

Ships changed flags, copters abandoned, armies turned civies, worthless money tossed out as atonement, while guns dropped by the buckets in lieu of boarding passes.

Random rockets, meant to deter, ended up destroying fishing boats which dotted the sea.You gotta to have amnesia to forget what had happened.

Yesterday, I traveled in the same old river but with a few differences: A/C, faster boat and a flying Vietnam‘s Communist flag at a river outpost . I also noted more highrises dotted Saigon skyline .

When I got to Vung Tau, I ran right into my buddy Ben, whom I know from TEFL school. So we hung out at the expat enclave (the CleverLearn and ILA crew). Ben seemed to know everyone in town, foreigners that was.

Back to Vung Tau, a beach town. It’s now upscale, slightly over-developed , at least on the surface. It could not however accommodate the influx of Saigonese on major holidays. But on stormy nights like last night, even the hottest bar girls would find it hard to get by.

We got Irish pub, Italian pizza and Indian cuisine.

Ben wanted to open an oyster bar, Beach Boys style. All the powers to  him. Maybe he can teach patron a new English word in Today’s special.

I couldn’t help reflect on Vung Tau as my launching pad to the US.

The place has changed over the years. So have I.

But suppose that I decided to stay, as Ben did, I would not get out of it as much as Ben.

He came with no legacy “can you see Saigon from here? I don’t” .  He only saw VT potential.

I, on the other hand, see VT as past and pain, not potential.

Vung Tau, Saigon‘s nearest beach, extends from my past all the way to the future.

Just like life itself, a series of flashbacks and future projections.

It’s good to decide on the fly to have that poor man’s R&R. During war-time, Ben and I would have communicated non-verbally (with a lot of gestures).

He got TESOL, I CELTA. We are like apples and oranges. And we converged on that same old beach. He is staying, and getting married. I am leaving.

Its water is still mercilessly unclean, unless you swim way far out (I am referring to Bai Dau, where there hardly was any wave).

Still a ship harbor. Still raking in the cash and churning out the pain.

Toi van di giua hoang hon, long thuong nho (equivalent of : Hello Darkness my old friend).

Rock Rage

Rage, rebellion and Rock seem to fit together. Gone were Happy Days and the Mamas & Pappas.

As soon as we got color television, it were as if innocence had vanished along with the Black- and- White TV sets.

Rage against the machine. Against materialism and modernity.

Against the wind (symbolically speaking).

Rock, or stone, needs to roll. Rolling Stone.

Born to run. Like Einstein’s line, life is like riding a bicycle, so you need to keep moving to keep your balance.

Free yourself. Free against the very notion of freedom as articulated by either side to appease donors.

Rock stays neutral, always on the run like gypsies.

In but not of the system, yet itself turns into a religion. And an expansive at that at Hard Rock Cafe.

Like Charlie Chaplin who finally got inducted into Knighthood, Rock and rollers first need to dress the part i.e. tatoo, nose rings, a lot metallic, and key chain. High maintenance.

Rock cannot go off grid, even though its essence is against it.

Plug in.

One and two. Testing.

Sure mike and Yamaha instruments, Bose speakers and Marlboro.

Big names, big bucks and big sponsors.

Can’t go against the grain.

Can’t do with it, or without it.

Money or love?

Man or woman?

Rage on, cry on. Heartbreak and headache.

Bring down the house and with it, ourselves.

Yet Rock lives on. Always with new “buyers.”

New converts, new sacrificial lambs.

New groups and groupies.

New lyrics and looks, with new rhythm and refrain.

Same 7 notes, but in different style and sensuality.

And the Reason is You.

No more Beach Boys, only Bad Boys.

You gotta have it, and have it yesterday.

There is no time as it used to be.

Hotel California, you can check in but can’t check out.

Turn on the machine, and it needs to be fed, with new meat and new sacrifice.

Rage for rage’s sakes is OK too.

Just hit the right notes. Turn up the volume. And shake those hair.

Adrenaline will take over and take care of the rest.

Rage on. Rock rage.