Tag: Dalat

Monsoon and Moonfest

Overhearing some people talking about rain in Dalat, Vietnam‘s mountainous area, I thought back to a time and a place where innocence was shred like old skin. You see, growing up in Vietnam even in the midst of the war, was still something to be cherished. You might have neighbor’s funeral with flag draped over coffin, but you could also have free reign during Moon Festival. Lanterns and lighting, of all kinds.

Monsoon rain during the day and dry crisp air at night, formed a clear line of sight to chi Hang (Moon Lady). I imagined seeing the Moon man hanging on to the magic tree (per fairy tale). Later on, when Neil Armstrong  (who has just died) stepped foot on it, as Curiosity Rover now roaming Mars, science was waging war on our hand-me-down heritage. Fable or fact? Fiction or non-fiction?

If you were to grow up during my time, you couldn’t have helped questioning everything: kids on the opposite side of the world were doing the same thing, asking if the “outsourced” war thousands miles away were worth the sacrifice. Meanwhile, computer geeks just coded their nights away in A/C- humming labs. If we can zoom the camera out , we will see dry and hot day in California and Seattle (where Bill Gates was taking a bus for computer timeshare) and the post-rainy Moon Festival night when I was skipping with lantern in hand. Got to have those cakes and candles.

Sweet tooth and sweet innocence. A whole festival dedicated to our young age group. Who said in Asia, only older people are respected. We (kids) ruled!

Then that innocence was shattered as reports about the unwinnable war got out with CBS dailies. Cronkite walked the ground of the US embassy and delivered a one-two punch in bullet-proof vest and helmet: it’s a stalemate.

Johnson knew then he wouldn’t have a  chance to convince the public the other way, after all, “that’s the way it is”.

Truth and fiction, fairy tale vs glass-encased moon rock.

In full view, we knew something was going on, but “what it is, ain’t exactly clear”.

So I grew up hurriedly, burned my  Moon Fest candles quickly and swallowed that sweet cake in one bite.

Fast forward to this day, again, hot in California, and rainy in Dalat, I smile to myself: it sure has been a wonderful childhood amidst of war. The intense fighting only made coming of age all the more precious.

Blood was shed to protect our playground.

I now realize why I keep coming back for more . I wish for other kids to feel what I felt: an appreciation for life, albeit amidst danger. Despite having threats from all sides, one could still do some self-validating, self-legitimizing and story-telling (to generation next). Now, that’s pre-computer-age coding and culture making. That’s buying time in a society on the verge of collapse. Now, we see children with I-pads in hands, but disrespectful and unappreciative. The age of Entitlement is overtaking the age of Enlightenment. And no one seems to “cry, my beloved country”. The Monsoon suddenly brought back sweet memories of  MoonFest. Monsoon continues still, year after year, but not my MoonFest,  which exists only in faint but never faded memory.

Flowers on concrete

It’s time to celebrate. Harvest time.

City folks here in Vietnam go home where beer and Banh Chung (Bean Cake) are waiting, while country folks truck in their flowers and fruits in the opposite direction to sell in the city.

This year, we don’t see the return of H5N1. So eat on. Chicken and ducks.

A friend of mine has an orchid farm in Da Lat. He could hardly come down for a visit . Too busy.

I am glad for him. Harvest time. The dead even got their joss paper money burned by the living as Holiday spending spree.

We chatted about cemetery in the States vs here in Vietnam. People did not know that in New Orleans, LA ; people were buried in stack-up tombs (below sea level, which occasionally broke the dyke as happened during Katrina).

The French left their architectural signatures both here in Vietnam and elsewhere like in New Orleans, Montreal and Cote d’Ivoire.

In Paris, they managed to keep traffic out of the city.

Here in Saigon, people  build out which means more congestion even when commercial trucks are restricted to off-peak hours).

Young students are eager to go home. This will ease traffic for a few weeks.

Perhaps there will be enough space for flowers to be sold on concrete sidewalks.

Flowers remind city folks of “Green Field”, lush country as seen in “Good Morning Vietnam” (soundtrack by  Louis Armstrong’s What a Wonderful World). Those green fields got sprayed years ago with Agent Orange, whose long-term destructive consequences are still being sorted out.

Yet, lovers still “parking” in the parks, vendors still selling bouquets (for households to decorate their shrines).

A Vietnamese New Year song aptly says it all “Wishing the farmers with great harvest and young lovers their love nests. So let’s toast” (notice the imagery : harvest and nest etc..). Tet is inclusive, not just for city folks, or just the living. It’s democratized to include the afterlife population.

With the dead and undead join in, concrete or chemical can’t stop the sprouting of flowers on concrete.

Mother’s memorial and modern madam

It’s been a few days since full moon. But people here in HCMC still burn incense and ceremonial money for the dead, most particularly, for deceased mothers. Meanwhile, there is a class of women entrepreneurs who don’t mind drink you under the table, drive to work and in every aspect, personify the softer side of Saigon.

There is a list of richest women published yearly, from real estate to private university, and everything in between.

So, it’s either the upper crust, or those who sell lottery tickets in the rain.

Vietnamese lit often depicts mothers as stern but strong : handling everything in the back room, yet giving credits to their husbands, who mainly serve as greeters. We got the Trung sisters, and Ms Trieu who fought the Chinese invaders.

A new class of single moms have emerged to shoulder all burdens of modern life.

I took my mom’s picture back in the mid-80’s. So it was a bit of a surprise to see the miniature version placed in the back of Van Hanh Temple in Dalat.

I looked twice to find her name plate. She was and in spirit still is my mother, yet known as a teacher to others. She taught me life lessons e.g. be considerate always, put others’ need before your own, and never forget where you came from.

I used to stop by her assisted living apartment to visit, just to find a full meal waiting for me. Today’s equivalent of a Sheraton buffet.

Modernity is pressed for time. And traditional bon vivant is the sacrificial lamb. Burger and drink, want fries with it?

With its current rate, we might see not only the living but also the dead here end up with fast food.  For now, everyone still use ceremonial money and toss rice into the air, to be in harmony with the spirits world. Peace in this life and the next.

Anyone who knows a little bit about history of Vietnam, wouldn’t say it’s a machismo culture.

Watch out for Tiger mom here. Single-handedly, they once did what the whole Trans-Pact Partnership could barely reach an agreement i.e. how to contain and eject unwanted invaders.

La vache qui rit

Forbes recently printed a McKinsey report about the coming consumer society in Vietnam. In other words, we will soon see La Vache qui rit in supermarkets along side real cows which are still allowed to roam free in the country side.

Vietnam 2040 will very much resemble US 1950, when the going was good: chicken in the pot and Chevy in the driveway.

Auto dealerships have sprung up at the outskirts, such as Dong Nai: Toyota, Honda and Ford.

Billboards build brands: Liberty Insurance, Prudential and VNPT.

Supermarts, hypermarts and convenient stores are found everywhere, selling of course, high margin, high carb items. KFC, Carl’s Jr and Lotteria employees are tasked to ask if you wanted fries and soda (combo no 1).  An underground mall has recently been opened in Hanoi to much fanfare.

In the country side, people however are happy with satellite TVs, internet hook up and mobile phones. Every house is an enterprise, either bed and breakfast, or coffee shops.

There is a price to pay by giving up traditional society for a consumer one. Vietnam will encounter those social problems Westerners already knew too well:

attachment to things will only lead to addiction, called shopaholism.  Shopaholic sometimes turns shoplifter as well.

It’s an unending cycle: the more things you owe, the less satisfaction you get out of them, hence, the more you think you need to reach old-level high. More results in less and not more happiness.

But advertisers will push this Pavlovian model to the brink.

Kids with glasses spend more screen time than face time with their parents or friends.

And they will eat La Vache Qui Rit, an inherited brand since before 1975,

and never know or see a real cow. It will be the age of vending machine: putting in a coin, and the coke comes out. No question asked. Period. Have you ever seen a real cow laughing? Or the sound of one hand clapping? Get real!

Dakao vs Dalat

Both have open air market. Both got some body of water that defines the city.

But that’s about it. 6 hours apart, they might as well be worlds apart.

Dakao, even without the street construction, can test your patience.

Dalat, even with a new bridge construction, can afford its  lake water drained for months . People here are patient.

Dalat fresh produce, from ground to table, is a given.

In Dakao, you have to get these from an A/Ced hypermarket.

Ironically, as one city starts its third shift, the other goes to bed.

Dalat has red dirt and misty weather. Dakao on the other hand is always noisy, dusty and hot.

Yet more and more people are pouring into District 1.

Must be the opportunities.  Yahoo has a piece about more Viet Kieu are coming back to open restaurants, coffee shops or to make movies. These are cosmopolitan Viet Kieu, at least, more of risk taker than Dalat tourists.

In the US, we have model minorities stereotypes e.g. Philippino nurses, Vietnamese dentists, Chinese herbalists, Indian engineers etc… To defy this “box”, young Vietnamese Americans are breaking out to run for offices, to receive Math award, to author a novel or self-help book (Impressive Impression for instance) and to be a lector at Yale. And like their Chinese American counterparts, a new wave of returnees are opening up off-shored centers, or just to test the waters.

In my opinion, they are coming back to “Dakao-like” opportunities, but they long for “Dalat-like” experience. One is dynamic, the other unassuming.

The head analyzes carefully, the heart whispers carelessly.

And to complete the circle , Dalat produces fresh vegetables for Dakao consumption.

The manure that brought forth produce out of red dirt become the supply for vendors selling on cement sidewalks.

City folks or country folks, both bleed red and often are too busy to read.

I read more in Dalat than in Dakao, where the sound of people toasting each other for health proves to be the only local distraction. Yet even amidst Tet celebration in Dalat, completely furnished with gay troop peddling lotto game, Dalat still proves to be an attraction, away from a Dakao of distraction.

butterfly in the sky

Amidst traffic and smog, a black/yellow butterfly dances its way through the intersection, bouncing from motor bike to motor bike.

I shouldn’t have paid too much attention to the creature. I need to worry about my safety. But it struck me as odd.

All concrete in the city with only few trees left in old Saigon. Yet we saw a rare beauty. Just like Nha Trang, south of China Beach, where Miss World took place.

But I can’t pass on learning from this creature, whose primal instinct is to survive.

Human beings instead took their own lives (in this recession, it happens a lot). Or like a Vietnamese student studying in Singapore, on her boyfriend’s support. When the well runs dry, she committed suicide and found dead in her closet (her love story and financial support ironically have been well hidden, a closeted affair).

And the Fashion TV channel keeps unveiling many thin couture, very chic.

So, the co-existence of what’s ugly and what’s beautiful, what’s shameful and what’s honorable is a norm.

The Prime Minister of Singapore, on the country’s birthday celebration, touches on this issue: many conflicting interests.

One of his solutions is to allow immigrant workers, unlike Japan who opted for automation over immigration.

Meanwhile, in Vietnam, tourists’ expectations are varied.  Many are from China, Taiwan, Japan, Korea and Singapore. Hence, inter-regional business interests arise naturally due to proximity. Reverse tourist flow has also been on the rise. One of these days, the imbalance in trade and tourism will find its equilibrium, and incidents such as dorm-room closet suicide will be a rarity. For now, going abroad to nearby countries,  to study, to settle and to sight-see have been and will be a boost to the ego: look at me, I have it made. Let’s book that regional flight and shop til we drop. Long live luxury goods and those can afford them. High living and up-stairs living. The once-colonies now turn new crops of shopper colonialists.

Who gives a damn about wolves in Mongolia, or butterflies in Dalat? Just cut down those trees and make ways for the flow of goods made else where to come and conquer. The shoppers are invited foreign elements in. No need for Trojan horse.

Even butterfly wants to swing out of the congested situation, much less the nouveaux riches who never seem to run out of options to shop.

 

Kaizen

In the 80’s, we saw many books about Japan e.g. Rising Sun, The Japan That Can Say NO.

Now, the Most Admired Country list seems to say NO to Japan, and places it at number 5.

Versace closed its door there after having sold to all the old people of the laggard group.

http://www.ft.com/cms/s/0/e5e6a886-b325-11de-ac13-00144feab49a.html

(in Dalat, Vietnam, a plan to build an all-Japan city for retirees was also scrapped).

Meanwhile, Toyota put out a recall for many of its late- model vehicles (its floor mat made the gas pedal stuck and killed 4 in San Diego).

And last month election results ushered in a new Prime Minister  from the opposing party.

Japan needs a quick fix.

Not from Robots, or foreigners, whose labor it needs (especially for the service sector), but whose origin it despises.

Young Japanese, generation without the Sun, got their play book from the Woodstock generation, hence no Versace

or if they needed accessories, they try SampleLab, or knock-off. When you sleep on your parent’s couch,

you don’t want to get caught trading up. Besides, high-end accessories don’t jibe with dark leather.

I admired the Samurai spirit, and how quickly Japan adopts technologies: AI, nano, just-in-time manufacturing, and

of course, the Beatles.

I also respect their stamina when faced with humiliation, from France’s De Gaulle to America’s Japan-bashing era.

I also wowed at their bouncing back , from the real estate fiasco to the Asian crisis of the last decade.

Somehow, Japan, personified by Toyota, seems to be able to pull rabbit after rabbit out of the hat (kaizen?)

Lexus, Scion, Sony (with Samsung “closer than it appears in rear view mirror”).

Its export-driven economy has been its crown jewel. Until neighboring China, India, Singapore, Korea

joined the game. All of a sudden, Japan found itself defending its home turf.

No more shopping trip to destination Vegas (whose show hosts used to greet the tour audience in Japanese in between drum rolls).

The outlet mall which served as a bus stop in between Los Angeles and Las Vegas has seen this boom and burst too well.

Now, at Number 5, Japan needs a miracle to get out from bad loans, to sustain its world tourist life style and to take care of its aging population.

At least, its defense bills have all been paid for since WWII.

Now, it needs to open up to fresh voices and visions. It did that when sending a Toyota designing team to drive up and down California Freeways. The result was the Lexus. It should now do the same, only this time, Kaizen at home.