Tag: Vietnam

Goodbye Saigon

Last night I said goodbye to a good friend. He was going back to California. We sat and listened to Louis Armstrong’s What a Wonderful World (Vietnamese singer but if you closed your eyes you would think the black legend was there in person). I recalled a scene from Good Morning Vietnam whose subjective shot of a chopper take off from the lush paddy field of Vietnam country side.

It’s hard enough to befriend then having to say goodbye.

Today a graduate from our school also had his goodbye at the airport.

Australia-bound. Health-care job. Brain-drain. Foreign currency gain. Such as fate of emerging countries whose citizens went abroad on guest-worker visas (Philippines and Thailand).

When I left the city for the first time – I thought it was for good.

No preparation. No Visa. Just take off.

I managed to stop and say goodbye to my best friend.

But that was it.

Seeing this young man with best friends at Departure Gate stirred up some envy (good emotion) in me.

After all there should be a proper way to bid farewell.

We are built with innate desire to connect.

To be torn apart from the land of birth and tossed into the wild unprepared is akin to suicide.

Yet it happened to the best of us .

Strange land (wheat vs rice) strange custom (football vs soccer), culture (fast food vs slow cooking) strange measurement (british vs metric) and strange socialization (the wave).

People might be overly friendly. But that was just customary. Beneath the facade lies an iron core: don’t get near me – stay away from me.

The loneliness of being a stranger in a strange land, of leaving the familiar (identity) for the unfamiliar (a Social Security number).

The rejection one gets when trying so hard to bend the new surrounding after one’s own image.

The abandonment after years of trying to integrate oneself into the mainstream (anglicized names, or first name first in reverse order of the old).

It could be exhausting. No wonder tourists found themselves on Saigon‘s Main Street (Dong Khoi) whose shops conveniently catered to their taste: beer – beef- and R&B (I even overheard California Dreaming last night at Bier Garden).

One cannot appreciate a place or a person until one experienced total loss. No one misses the well until it is dry up.

I love My Saigon on the double because I thought I had lost it.

Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained.

Despite the dust and noise I have experienced during my re-entry.

No lush green  field like in Good Morning Vietnam.

But I love it. For I had once thought I would never get to see it again.

Now I cherish the pavement and the monument.

Someday I hope to convey this lost/found sentiment to a wider audience.

But for now …I think to myself ……What a Wonderful World.

My Saigon

Like Trinh Cong Son‘s Diem Xua, I got my own imprints of what  Saigon was like.

Especially on Sundays, like today.

Shaded streets, short strolls and sweet smiles.

Who needs all the executive shirt with designers’ emblem on it.

Instead of shirt, just smile even when you are not on camera. “Cuoi len di em oi” Just smile.

Le Sourire.

Flowers for the graves, flowers for the grade school teachers.

Lots of laughters, lots of tears “Ta chi can mot nguoi cung voi ta doi chet moi ngay”

Just a person to pass the time with while awaiting death inevitable.

Hence, Saigonese put on their best.

Last night, at a friend’s private birthday party, I sat outside on the balcony, looking into the glass door, taking in the scene, as if it were a movie set. Was I there, or just watching myself being there?

Am I in or in but not of it?

They say you can take a Texan out of Texas, but you cannot take Texas out of a Texan.

Perhaps the same holds true for Saigonese like myself .

Something about the French cafe, the Vespa, the Chinese noodle, and now, the KFC.

Saigon is a synthesis.

We “cao dai (unitarian) every strand of thoughts and expressions.

No one knows or is let in to our core. Double protection.

Suspicious of foreigners yet embrace them all.

Like on LinkedIN.

Like on Facebook.

Like on Twitter.

Just smile.

Le sourire.

Lots of laughter and lots of tears.

Just one life time.

But in mine, I have seen Saigon live multiple lives.Try every dish, every taste: bitter cucumber or  pickled lemon.

We take everything and leave out nothing.

During my entire life interacting and learning about Saigon , I have yet seen Saigon lose out.

It blends and synthesizes everything.

To the point where you could only recognize it by its smile.

Then the younger generation takes over.

You see the resemblance but can’t put a finger on it.

Turns out it’s that smile underneath the facade.

They smile when they are happy and when they are sad (see Understanding Vietnam).

Saigon’s smile is more of a reaction than an expression. “You always smile but in your eyes your sorrow shows”.

My Saigon. Cuoi len di em oi, du nuoc mat rot chet vanh moi. Smiling while swallowing tears.

Motherhood, Madness and Meditation

Seeing a photo of a grey-hair guy, on bike and  backpack, riding home with bouquet of flowers in the front basket, reminded me of International Day of Women.

There is no doubt, according to an Australian’s observer, that women are bosses here in Vietnam.

Tiger Mom.

To punctuate this point, I was sitting at an outdoor cafe at 7:30 AM, when three different women, on bikes, taking turn showing up for work across the street.

Despite traffic congestion, pollution, heat, and child-care, they were on the dot.

In fact, I did not need to verify this point.

I lived with a few: mother, sister, cousin, nieces and wives.

The women I know have been remarkably strong, resilient and yes, slightly masculine in the sense that they did not mind the menial work.

Now, with I phone, I pad and scooter, they are on a level playing field.

multitasked, multi-talented and multi-facet.

Women respond to stress much better than men.

Phone companies love female customers: they chat, text, and send pics.

When e-commerce fully takes hold here,  we can be sure that women will spend a chunk of  change online.

Still at early stage of mass market, Vietnam , and its female consumers, are well on the way to fulfill life’s dream: motherhood, madness (shop till they drop) and yes, meditation.

My mom showed me that these two extreme can co-exist. In fact, they need each other to balance out a person, a woman at that.

On this Women Day, let’s salute that we all come from the same Womb, and Technology finally erases the inequality of the sexes (caused by agrarian  culture and industrialization).  Two Vietnamese women came to mind: one at the Pentagon, invented heat-seeking bomb, and the other, in the US Air Force , known for precision strike.

I wish a lot of luck on those husbands whose wives have out-achieved their dreams. May they seek comfort in the company of good men who do not succumb to madness, but to meditation.  A woman’s glory is also a man’s joy. Just have to update your version of software. Think different. Collaborate and not compete.

Survivor’s guilt

We have heard uplifting stories about the human spirits, survivors at seas and in the wilderness. But the other side of the coin is survivor’s guilt. This reaction is just an extension of that loneliness as portrayed in Cast Away.

The story goes like this. Three guys survived a crash and found themselves on an island. Of course, “he ain’t heavy, he is my brother …” Then an angel appears to grant each one a wish. “I want to go home”.

The second guy gets the same wish. The third and only guy left couldn’t wait for his turn. He blurts it out “Gee, I wish my friends are still here with me”. You know what happened then. His wish to “friend” the other two canceled out their reunion at home, bringing them all back to that lonely island of three.

Survivor’s guilt.

It eats us up inside:

I woke up this past Christmas realising it was my friend’s last Christmas.

He has now passed away. But for that brief morning moment, I experienced a speck of guilt. Perhaps it will return next Christmas as well.

For ten years, between 1975-85, I lived in guilt. My dad had stayed behind in our home in Saigon while I partied on (Disco craze).

I ended up volunteering at refugee camps, longing to see my Dad‘s face among the crowd (in fact, one of the guys in my team got that wish: he was reunited with his two younger brothers right there in the Jubilee refugee camp).

That long decade saw the rise of Rambo character, who tried to relieve his guilt via rescue mission.

Relief or rescue, we were onto the same theme: guilt.

Eastern culture was more into “shame” than Western‘s “guilt”.

The aftermath of Vietnam left us paralyzed with both shame and guilt.

(Reflections of my life).

At times, while working out, I moved the damn weight away from my chest, all along with silent scream: ” I did not cause war”.

Yet the impact and influence are the same: separation, loss and bewilderment.

So, on that quiet beach walk, or a stroll through my moon alley, I picked up a stranded star fish, or a loose brick. Just do what I can, in smallest way to make life worth living. It matters to that particular star fish to be tossed back to the sea. Or the brick to the side of the road. Makes it a safer world.

A world without guilt. Survivor’s guilt.

Saigon, smoke and smog

You got to be stronger, you got to be wiser….

Cigarette companies are employing sales girls to peddle their tobacco here: buy two get a lighter etc…

The girls, all well cast to fit the bill. Sampling a product, hooked for life.

Best way to break in a market is via Direct Sales: Likeability, Commitment and Consistence, Social Proof (everyone who is in the know, smokes this).

Young men, beers in hand, and cigarettes in the mouth.  All the good die young.

For now, let’s party on. Born this way, born that way.

Born to be wild and born to run. Born in the USA or born in Vietnam.

Trees help sucking off the smog. Rain helps.

But not nearly enough. The dirty air masks are proofs.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Full-lung capacity. Half-life to infinity.

Things might seem to have changed, but then, it seemed to have stood still. People still want to be recognized, to climb the social ladder and to be hip. What are those Filippino bands doing here in town? Our new priests, who help us along? Consecrate us for hedonism?

Saigon knew how to enjoy itself way back. Last night, to prove my point, a guy sang “Don’t let me down” at Acoustics. The audience couldn’t hum along, but I could. That was my signature song at Chu Van An.

Again, the current might have flown down stream, but up-stream, the game plan remains the same: sourcing for new revenue stream, building customer’s loyalty and maximizing customer’s life-time value.  One pack of cigarette at a time.

I am all for a good time.  Even a smoke. But to fall victim and be arm-twisted by agents of Death in disguise, is something I am not falling for.

I wish they sold second-hand smoke masks. The direct sales force will have to shadow the cigarette gals and sell 10 out of every lighter the later managed to push. Now that’s fair game. Born this way, remain this way.

I will survive…..even though it might seem as if  “it’s the end of the world” at times, here in Saigon, for as long as one cares to notice.

Museum of Loss

If you sneaked in the back street of Independence Palace here in Saigon, you would find  Cafe 30-4, named after that fateful day. Most of us have seen that 1975 tank-crashing-gate photo. But from the vantage point of the Cafe where I sat yesterday, I could only see people playing tennis and tourists walking about trying to use up the price of admission.

I felt a lump in my throat and heavy pull at the legs before entering this unholy ground.

The same feeling I had when entering the US consulate a few years back for notary public.

Those spaces represented more than just brick and mortar. They had territorial integrity but lost it.(The French originally built Saigon as Admin Centre for IndoChine).

The spot where the consulate now is, used to be the US Embassy.

And Cafe 30-4 had been just a side entrance for Palace guards.

And so it went with my visit to the Museum of Loss.

Loss of youth,  innocence, and root.

When I got to the US, the first thing I was given was an A number (for Alien).

Later, I “graduated” to a D (for driver). Some day, when cashing out, I get a “S” for Social Security.

Back to our Museum of Loss. In Dalat, at least you would find Bao Dai Palace, still presidential: high on the hill, with some class and signs of  Vietnam transition from Monarchy to Modernity (Western).

IndoChine at the time, shared  inter-regional currency under French colonial.

Those neighboring countries are still connected albeit loosely:

Thailand, still with King. Cambodia and Laos remain underdogs and China is riding to ascendency.

Things were quiet at our Museum of Loss, except for occasional tennis ball contacts. Players are still wearing white, just as the day of Big Minh (who was waiting to hand over the key of the Independence Palace) playing against Westmoreland.

I excused myself after getting up from that chunk of wood (used as stool)..

At least Cafe 30.4 got shades. It also sits in the shadow of Saigon’s former Self. I walked out feeling estranged. In fact, I couldn’t wait to fetch a taxi to the future where I might find hope and promises. It’s the future which decides the winner. Call it “horizontal” marketing, where market dictates the terms and values of everything. To turn a historic landmark on its head, and make a few bucks out of it is what I called entrepreneurial. In loss we find a way out, and in death life.

Saigon Tech Talent

It could have been a waiting scene at Acoustics, Saigon Rock Alley. Except for the instruments and the bands.

They were CEO’, CTO and Venture Capitalist. Not Bar Camp, nor Web Wednesday. It’s Mobile Monday, held on Thursday night.

The cool, the calm and the co-ed. They were all there. Web to Mobile and back to Web (the mother of all).

Bruce Lee clip was shown: “to hell with obstacles, I create my own opportunities.”

So they created, collaborated and commented.

The eagerness and hunger was there, for the next big thing, even in BioTech.

When I was looking that good, I wasn’t into tech. Now another young guy, by the same first name, sat there and told us to “build an ecosystem” etc….

Back then, all I knew was sound system and we were all hair.

Features phones vs smart phones had not even been in the horizon.

Yes, Vietnam is facing an e-payment problem; its e-commerce is consequently slow to take off. But what about those who come to Vietnam from an ecosystem that doesn’t have that problem? Should we make them walk around, pay by cash? How about  Tech Support…..

So the arguments tail-spinned in a different direction.

But the thought flow and thought form were there, punctuated by occassional nods of agreement.

Tech talent got it.

They just need a jump-start, like the eagle that needs a push.

Jump, said Jesus, to the invalid who complained that every time he tried (to get himself healed) , someone else had already jumped into the pool first.

Instead of getting to the water, Bruce Lee’s advice for us  to become water.

“Water in a cup becomes the cup….”

Saigon Tech talent will need to morph and move through window in between mobility and mortality.

It was good to see 160 show up after only a few days of SMS and flash mop.  Unlike at Acoustics, I went home hungry, but not drunk.

I still remember some if not all the challenges, comments and consolation.

It’s good to have attended Mobile Monday, in T-shirt and jeans.

Rain and tears

In the three months that I was in Vietnam, I have seen more rain and tears than 3 years in the US.

When it rains, it pours. Then, it all of a sudden clears up. Branches and trees start to breathe and “branch out”.

The tears’ part came from funerals that have a way to announce themselves, some even hired gay performers to lament on the bereaved’s behalf.

But not all are rain and tears here in the city.

I just viewed a clip taped at ICT conference last year,  showing pole dancers (w/out the poles) in between general sessions.

The entertainment agents here are also busy at events all over the city.

Things are looking up even as rain and tears flow down.

What is down will sow the seeds for what is up.

Environmental and social ecosystem: learn from others’ mistakes,

stay in the forefront of change and surf the waves.

We still see Monkey Bridge outside the city.  Other bridges are more modern, but shared by bikes, buses and trains.

During my time away, I guess there were enough rain and tears to overflow city rivers and canals.

Younger generations just take things at face values. Besides, why ponder and bewildered by things one cannot change. Just be on the move, constantly. People in motion. Fingers in motion (playing games). Products and services in motion (KFC and pizza delivered on bikes).

I heard that catering is an emerging business. Why not “in-home” cuisine as prelude to in-home care. Enough rain and tears. Now is the time for laughing and not lamenting, joy and not sorrow.  Enough rain and tears to last a life time. From here on, update that software version in the head to enjoy Peace Time Vietnam.

Middle-Income Trap

The phenomenon known as Middle-Income Trap is alive and well in SouthEast Asia.

Not all boats rise with the water. Contentment sets in and gets in the way of progress.

Countries like the Philippines, Malaysia and Indonesia are  in this trap.

From a global perspective, they could do better if getting over the hump. Yet people are caught  with false sense of security (just a little bit over the Survival phase). No challenge, no progress.

Entrepreneurs, innovation and R&D? That’s a luxury one cannot afford here.

I went pass a Malaysian Educational Center here in HCMC. Apparently to get to Malaysia nowadays is already a step-up (then Singapore, Australia and/or US).

Vietnam needs to leapfrog to be in the forefront of science and technology, commerce and communication. FDI and Tourist dollars unfortunately landed mostly on infrastructure investment more than talent investment.

Its young people will need more than a dose of legislation. They need role models, encouragement and financial supports (to truly master English for Commerce and not just to pass a required placement test).

Encourage Life-Time-Learning.

Life-Time-Learning leads to Life-Time-Fulfillment. Middle-Income will be de facto results.

My hope and wish is for college students to master life’s skills, and to see the big picture, that of being a global citizen, where Many-to-Many is the new model and Pull, not Push, prevails.

Recognize the face

Machine is getting smarter (facial recognition).

In “It might be you” Stephen Bishop sings about “if I found the  place, would I recognize the face“.

The face he has waited for all of his life.

Babies could hear before birth (the logic behind classical music during pregnancy).

Then psychologists theorize about us looking for that first trusted face (our mom’s or nurse’s).

I have talked to a bunch of xe-om (taxi scooter), who echoed the same theme: it’s hard to find “chan tinh”, real love.

Sounds hopeless to me.

But surrounded by young people on buses and on campus, I saw a different version: careful but calculated risk-taking.

Man-woman, man-man, woman-woman pairing.

If only we brought back Tootsie, “I became a better man to you by being a woman….”.

Men are built to conquer (biologically). Woman, nurturing.

They could make a perfect marketing team: cold-caller and customer relationship manager.

For now, we are at a juncture where men and women roles are being revised if not reversed.

Friedman’s Feminine Mystique needs its own 2.0 mobile version for Vietnam .

I don’t know about recognizing the face, but I sure have recognized the foods.

For the past three months, I have exacted my revenge.

Also, a good dose of music and arts (highly recommend the museum on Ly Tu Trong for arts and history and C’est Moi for live music).

During the course of my rediscovery (see Adventure in My Own Land), I stumbled upon “Cu Lao” where Nguyen Huu Canh founded South Vietnam.

Our own Columbus did not meet native Indian nor was he offered Turkeys for Thanksgiving.

But he might very well be.

We now have a city nearing ten million mostly young college students.

My job has taken me to different campuses, where I saw learners of all shades and stripes.

Part tech savvy, part social intelligence, these “faces” will be our future leaders.

Would I  recognize those faces, if I found the place.

I might. For some strange reasons, I feel closer to my now-deceased Mom by being here, than in the US.

Perhaps there are more faces like hers. Perhaps they put on Ao Dai (see Mom’s Ao Dai). I can’t figure it out yet.

But I guess I have found the place. That’s the easy part. The hard part is to recognize the face, as if facial recognition apps could help.