Tag: South China Sea

Choppers that chop the seas

The news of Premier Nguyen Cao Ky passed away brought back a long time passing.

In my youth, the sound of hovering helicopters was as common as street vendors’ chants.

On the war’s last day, ambassador, flag, ground-keepers, pilots and anything that moved, tried to get out to International Waters . Buses, barges and yes, choppers.

Lone pilots angled and abandoned choppers, then swam for aircraft carriers.

Their last sortie. (Years later, I met a man in New Orleans who found work as a commercial pilot for an oil company, transferable skill set I would say).

But on that fateful day, the choppers chopped the seas. One helicopter force-landed and hit our barge’s sandbagged wall. The loosed blades then flew wildly toward our ship, the USS Blue Ridge. I lied head down but eyes glued to the scene of action. That same barge had been our home for the previous 24 hours. Floating barge and flying blades was my brush with war and death.

Words circulated that many, VP Cao Ky included, went to Guam, where they had erected tents for refugees. For us, who ended up in Wake Island, we spent a purgatorial summer (“Do you know, where you’re going to” theme from the Mahogany). One of our folk singers sang for free to keep up our morale. She just came up short of singing “by the  river of Babylon…there we sat down and wept”.

I overheard “Band on The Run” by McCartney  from the barrack next door.

Not sure that was fitting or insulting. After all, I have spent the last three decades and a half trying to live down deserter’s guilt.

On a recent trip to Vietnam, a drunk at the table even screamed in my face that I was no longer a Vietnamese.

The burden must have been heavier for those who had invested more in the conflict (Cold War, but hot spots) e.g. the likes of Premier Cao Ky.

Occasionally, the two sides – reconciliators and extremists – were still at it.

We should put on the Holllies’ He Ain’t Heavy.

That’s how it will end. And how everything eventually ends, with time. My narrative just happened to be accompanied by the sound of choppers normally associated with Vietnam. One thing VP Cao Ky showed us and the world, was that, despite the hefty death toll and billions of dollars spent on bullets and agent Orange (later, he was resettled in Orange County), one still needs to live out one’s life, flamboyant or faced down. Army divisions used to distinguish themselves by various colors of their scarfs (red for paratroopers, green for Green Berets, so it’s not unusual for pilots and stewardess to pick their colors as well).

When you are near death on a daily basis, the least you can do for yourself is to look in the mirror, and say “not today”.

That today finally came for him, at age 80, and as fate would have it, resting in peace near South China Sea. But for many of us, “band on the run”, we live on to be memory keepers, story tellers and hopefully history-makers. It’s interesting to note that the younger generation tends to be more careful and conservative (model minorities) while their predecessors lived their lives in flying colors (go on YouTube, and click on any bands of the 60-70, like Chicago), least of which, a purple scarf, from a former Vietnamese pilot. Band on the run. Leader of the band dies today. The music, however, plays on. War and Peace. Dogmatism and pragmatism. Man and machine, romantic and robotic, pilot and chopper, laid to rest at Vietnam War epilogue. For me, not today. Not yet.

Someday, they will excavate in the South China Seas, and find hundreds of choppers, one of which without blades. Further excavation on the outer ring will find millions of skulls (boat people). They are all there, hidden underneath, but, still served as reminders of the long Cold War that took its heavy toll both in men and materials (choppers).

Bumpy boat ride

Stories of tourist boats that capsized, ship builder that went default on loan payment, and fishing boats got intimidated by a gigantic neighbor, kept coming out of Vietnam recently.

When you live along a coast that spans from San Diego to North of Vancouver, sea-related incidents are bound to happen. The latest dispute centered in the South China Seas is serious enough for Vietnam to start brushing up on its draft policy

and asking the US, its former enemy, to help resolve this marina tension.

One war document (the Pentagon Papers) barely got declassified, another is just about to be written. 40-year cycle.

Thomas Friedman came up with a globalization theory: any two nations who have McDonald stores open in their countries, are least likely to be involved in war (based on a classic theory of those who trade try to avoid war).

In this context, Vietnam should be asking not the US, but the McDonald corporation to start supplying burgers and fries.

I just read an AP story on rising food price in Vietnam (causing moms to go to bed hungry – since mothers put their children’s education and well-being before themselves).

http://www.miamiherald.com/2011/06/14/v-fullstory/2265650/skyrocketing-food-prices-leave.html

Now, the country has the familiar scent of war. The scent that has barely dissipated for a new digital generation.

Then again, if you lived down those cyclical conflicts, with a desirable coast line, and a restless and hungry demographic (against a backdrop of huge neighbor full of young men- due to one-child policy, euphemism for one-male-child policy) it doesn’t take brain to see potential eruptions.

The boat ride will continue to be bumpy, at least, until McDonald starts its D-day with “you want fries with that?” .

Hungry moms can always stop by on her way to collect metal scraps (principal subject on Ms Mason’s story filed for AP). I am sure she will want to save some take-out for her hungry children at home. Any sacrifice for a better tomorrow, no matter how bumpy the ride or whose boats it is bumping against.

Conversant program

If it weren’t for people like Shawn, I wouldn’t be where I am today.

You see, Shawn was a shy Penn State student of  the Horticulture department who wanted to volunteer his time.

It turned out that the Foreign Student Conversant Program matched us together in our first year of college.

That year as it turned out was my best year: how to pronounce “hor”, like in “whore-house”? onto going to frat parties where Shawn finally joined.

There are aspects of English which come across to learners as incomprehensible (what’s that silent “P”  doing there in front of “psychology”) to euphemisms we invented as we go along like “enhanced interrogation” , “assisted suicide” and Leanning-in/Leanning-out.

What Shawn did was :

– he showed me that he cared (by listening more than talking)

– he was trying to cope with the new situation on campus himself

– he was way ahead of the curve on environmental awareness and his calling in that direction.

We lost touch even during college, but I will always remember Shawn for his kindness and friendship.

The last time I saw him was at a frat party, in a crowded Greek-alphabet house off-campus.

We did not talk much that night besides acknowledging each other across the dance floor. So much for being “conversant”.

The fact that we were there in the same room, him rushing the fraternity and me rushing for life in America, said it all.

It was an unusual pairing: he from rural Pennsylvania, I big city. Shawn had not seen nor heard any noise except for Fourth of July fireworks, and I, witnessed practically every Cold War arsenal exhibited in the hot theater of war.

We found each other through the International Student affairs program. We often got “sexiled” (again using Tom Wolfe‘s term) and both felt proud that “WE ARE”  “PENN STATE”.

In our age of globalization, where a small dispute in the South China Seas could trigger a major war (Tonkin Resolution whose Pentagon Papers will be declassified Monday, and now China vs Vietnam with territorial disputes), we can use a bunch of “Shawn” for soft-power influence.

I did not tell Shawn much about my failed attempt at the US embassy in Saigon, or about my subsequent floating in the salty seas.

That fact was understood as subtext over rootbeer and fries. Shawn with a beard, and me hardly had to shave at all.

I wonder what he made of me. I just know that out of the 30,000 students on campus, Shawn was my friend, the very first one.

And the only one I have ever known to pick that particular major. I learned a new vocabulary out of him, if not a whole new appreciation for volunteerism. I learned another concept later in life: “paying forward”. To me, Shawn triggered a chain of events which last way past his freshmen year. He, in today’s social media parlance, essentially “friending” me, conversing instead of chatting. I miss those face2face days over rootbeer.

Saigon heat

Rain and heat, the yin and yan of Saigon.

I saw sugar donuts on sale, so I thought of my niece who used to love those melted brown sugar donuts. I tried one. It chipped away my tooth, which happened to be the base  for neighbouring crown. So I had to plant back all three. Costly donuts in Dakao!

Last night, I saw hundreds of bikers circling the block. People said, No, this was just a dry run. The race will be on Saturday night.

Meanwhile, the McCain carrier is docking in China Beach these days.

I can’t help notice the irony of naming an USS carrier the McCain.

The presidential aspirant was once incarcerated in Hanoi Hilton, cell bound.

Now, the carrier bore his name is free to roam the seven seas, least of which South China Seas.

There is a certain attraction here in Vietnam.

High-end tourist resorts in old Hoi An (featured in Huffington Post). Hanoi celebrates its 1000th year. Hello Vietnam video (Bonjour Vietnam).

WEC, APEC, VN even took turn as one of the UN security council members etc… And recent visit by Madam Secretary all paint a picture of a newly integrated Vietnam. Internet users and mobile phone users grow fast, up there in the top ten. A conference on open source, software testing and automation, strategic venture funds etc…all paint a brighter picture on this new Vietnam wall, one which is not black on marble, but on white canvas. The future is what you make of it.

Math anybody? English then? Everybody wants to travel to Singapore.

Makes me curious as well. The distance from Saigon to Singapore is quite reachable and even affordable. But for Saigon to morph into the like of Singapore, everyone here agrees, takes decades, not years.

It is no surprise that former leader of Singapore is often invited over as consultant. How do you do it? tell us.

The secret sauce which made Vietnam what it is today varies. It depends on who you ask. Some say the country needs not forget the years of hardship before Renovation (85). Others might argue otherwise.

All I know, like the weather here, and the pace of tourism, it comes and goes.

Merchants and Middle-men stay on. Build your brand, invest here, sell that to survive the down turn.

I notice revenue pressures at every turn: from A/C offices to open-air beer stalls. People pour Heineken first, then ask for the main course order later.

Same way they ride their bikes on narrow streets, away from noise, dust, stress, heat and congestion on the street. And surely, the young bikers on Saturday night can’t wait to try out their newly paved race track as well.

It’s good to be young and restless. It’s better to harness that energy to good use. It’s not Saigon that needs to learn from Singapore, but it’s young Saigonese that need role models, not Rebels without a cause (Marlon Brando).

The consensus has yet been reached. Many young people want to go the Korean way. And none want to imitate their neighbor to the North.

Among Vietnam’s former nemeses, it’s the US  that got away clean and clear.

It got docking rights at China Beach these days, and I am sure the USS McCain naval officers are more than welcome to stay in any hotel of their choice. Unbound. And if they can afford the “platform” resort in Hoi An, all the more better. Huffington Post recommends it.