Revolutionary soup

Espionage and secret agents cloaked by steamy broth

Under the nose of the South Vietnam military and just steps away from a sprawling United States military police barracks, a little noodle shop hid Communist revolutionaries and commandos of the American War. It was here that Viet Cong operatives planned, among other things, the 1968 Cuoc Tong Tien Cong Va Noi (Spring General Offensive and Uprising), better known as the Tet Offensive.

The soldiers of the National Liberation Front for South Vietnam (NLF or Viet Cong) launched a surprise urban attack in Saigon, against the Southern republic and its US ally. The purpose was to over-run and disable American military installations throughout the city and the region, sparking a civilian uprising that would overthrow the Saigon “puppet government” and defeat the South.

The offensive was a military disaster for the Communists who were outnumbered and outgunned by the American and Southern soldiers. But it was a public relations coup, better than President Ho Chi Minh might have hoped for. The bloodshed horrified global audiences where the long war trickled nightly into their living rooms on the news. Anti-war demonstrations picked up in speed and size and helped turn American public sentiment against a war their leaders had promised would be an easy victory.

Pho Binh sits in leafy District 3. You’d miss it, if not for the large red and gold sign attesting to Pho Binh’s revolutionary credentials that proudly hangs over the door. Its name means “Peace Soup,” what Mr Ngo Toai renamed his little restaurant after the 1975 Liberation of Saigon. He survived war, jail, torture and even an aborted execution attempt as a soldier in Uncle Ho’s army. He passed away in 2003, a loyal comrade to the end. So stooped Mr Nguyen Minh, an old family friend, offers to show us the secret war headquarters. Up the three flights of stairs we go, with Minh pausing every few steps or so. His knees bother him now.

Upstairs, the room is intact, frozen in time. Heavy wood furniture surrounds a scratched, dark table with an old rotary phone on it. While Minh says nothing has been changed since 1975, someone obviously dusts it and carefully placed a vase of yellow chrysanthemums beside the telephone. On the walls hang some forty-odd pictures, fading black-and-white headshots of young, unsmiling men and women. “They’re all dead now,” Minh says, waving a hand over the walls. “All dead.”

I think of the women downstairs, who, in the words of a journalist who visited a few years ago, “served noodles with a smile” to unsuspecting US soldiers and diplomats, while over their heads the phone with a direct connection to Hanoi rang constantly.

Colours / Màu

60 cities, 15 countries, one film festival

The folks at Future Shorts have put together another terrific screening of short films that we took in the other night. Presented by local film collective Mê Phim, on offer are six international shorts from countries like Spain, Israel and Sweden, and three shorts from up and coming local filmmakers. Entries include documentaries, comedy, animation and music videos. We saw the films at La Habana, a Cuban bar and restaurant which, by the way, is an excellent venue for screenings. Keep up the good work, Mê Phim!

My favourites include the bittersweet Daughters by Chloe Zhao (China, 2009) and hard-hitting Slaves by David Aronowitsch and Hanna Heilborn (Sweden, 2008). Hands-down best movie of the night had to be Lost Paradise by Mihal Brezis and Oded Brezis (France and Israel, 2008). Its surprise ending will leave you breathless.

These films are not available on the net yet, but LA-based band OK Go’s latest video, “This Too Shall Pass” is and it’s a treat, featuring a Rube Goldberg Machine. Who knew kinetic energy could be so much fun?

Best thing is, for those who missed the first screening of the Colours Film Fest, Mê Phim is holding a free screening at Café Cao Minh in Binh Thanh district, tonight only. Check out Future Shorts Vietnam or their Facebook page. Mê Phim is also on Facebook if you’d like more information. They’re always on the lookout for filmmakers’ submissions.

Come and be a part of a worldwide independent short film festival!

Brickbats for building blocks

Brick factories face pollution crackdown

The government is calling for an overhaul of the local building industry. The idea is to replace clay-fired bricks with non-fired bricks in construction. Brick factories routinely belch out heavy smoke and soot from the roaring kilns that burn night and day. If you’re lucky enough to have one in your neighbourhood, perhaps you’ve joined the many protests by residents to close or relocate these Victorian-era look-a-likes.

The protesters got the attention of municipal authorities, however. More than 90 percent of the construction materials used in Vietnam, including those bricks and terra cotta tiles, are fired in kilns, whereas 70 to 80 percent of the world’s market uses non-fired products. It’s not hard to imagine the smoke pollution around here.

So the government is pushing the use of non-fired construction materials, such as cement bricks or bricks made of waste from construction sites, which sounds particularly smart. Non-fired also means no fuel consumption—which here includes wood, rice-husks and coal-tailings. This initiative also lessens the degradation of scarce agricultural land, already under threat by seawater flooding. Here’s some numbers to think about. Every year, about 24 billion bricks are needed. To make these bricks requires 36 million cu.m of soil or the equivalent of 1,800 ha of cultivated land.

According to the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations (FAO), that amount of land would feed 25,000 people for a year.

Dengue Fever

Catch the Cambodia surf rock wave

One of the more interesting mash-ups to come out of the long Vietnam War was the influence American music had on Cambodia.

In particular, young GIs brought over pop and R&B alongside surf rock, punk and psychedelia. The Cambodians fused it with Khmer vocals and their own rock twists here and there and voilà: an utterly unique style was born.

Two popular singers at the time were Ros Sereysothea

and Sinn Sisamouth. (He’s the guy in the tux.)

Sadly, Khmer rock was shortlived. Under the murderous Khmer Rouge reign of Pol Pot in the mid 1970s, nearly two million Cambodians perished. The Communist ideologue was convinced he could start his country anew by turning back the clocks to “Year Zero” and create an agrarian utopia. Naturally, the artists, musicians, singers and intelligentsia had to go. Vietnam finally had enough of the slaughter and invaded in 1979, effectively ending the genocide. Neither Ros nor Sinn survived the regime.

Hence why this band we saw the other night is good fun and maybe even, important. Dengue Fever was formed about ten years ago in Los Angeles by brothers Ethan and Zac Holtzman, with a Cambodian lead singer, Chhom Nimol, singing mostly in her native Khmer. She used to sing for the King and Queen of Cambodia. The band incorporates elements of a cappella, steamy funk and hip hop, shot through with African and Caribbean beats.

Buddhists believe we have many lives. Dengue Fever just might be the rebirth of a genre that was itself a translation that almost completely disappeared and seems now to have reincarnated itself quite comfortably as West Coast Cambodian garage rock. I think Ros and Sinn would be pleased.

Ten times more beautiful

Cuban author shares revolutionary memories

One of the things that I haven’t done yet in this blog is connect the time we spent in Cuba with our time in Vietnam. (And I apologize for yet more grainy news agency pictures.)

Marta Rojas Rodríguez is the perfect link between the two countries. She’s in Hanoi this week helping to commemorate Ho Chi Minh’s 120th birthday. She’s a Cuban author and former journalist with Granma, the official newspaper of the Central Committee of the Cuban Communist Party.

Ms Rojas, as she is known, spent much time in Vietnam and Cambodia during the American War and is the last foreign reporter to interview Ho Chi Minh, two months before he died in September 1969. Although no pictures or recordings exist of the interview, she said later that she had been charmed by his Spanish, his love of country and his curiosity. Ms Rojas is a spry 82 and handily looks twenty years younger. Our artistic friends in Cuba, despite their feelings towards their government, mentioned her frequently and with admiration.

She was a war correspondent in Cuba, Latin America and Southeast Asia. She was on hand in the 1956 courtroom when Fidel Castro made his famous “history will absolve me” speech. Gossips linked her and Fidel romantically, but it’s anyone’s guess now. It was a long time ago and they were young and caught up in a revolution of their own.

Later, Ms Rojas co-wrote a book, Tania: The Unforgettable Guerrilla, the story of the only woman who fought alongside Ché Guevara in South America. But back in Hanoi in 1969, Ms Rojas filed a report that was published around the world in which she describes Vietnam’s “hungry and barely armed people” taking on the might and firepower of American imperialism. She closes with a quote from Ho Chi Minh’s last political testament. He never wavered in his belief Vietnam would triumph over the United States: “Vietnam will be free, independent and sovereign, the enemy will be defeated, and the Vietnamese people will build a Vietnam ten times more beautiful.”

The revolutionary marriage of nationalism and Communism

The “bringer of light” turns 120 today

I am quite partial to this picture. Here is young Nguyen Sinh Cung in Paris in December 1920. He’s attending the 18th Congress of the French Socialist Party, thus becoming one of the founders of the French Communist Party.

He had left his own country, Vietnam, nine years earlier in 1911. He would not return for another three decades. Young Cung had gone overseas for the same reasons many of us do—adventure, education, work experience and to check out the inherent hypocrisy of his colonial master’s motto of “Liberté, égalité, fraternité.” Cung had by now adopted the name of Nguyen Ai Quoc (“Nguyen the patriot”) and was absolutely committed to winning independence for Vietnam from France. He had learnt well the maxim “keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” He was determined to find ways to resist French colonialism and he knew he’d find his answers in France. Which is why this picture charms me so. His earnestness and sincerity shines through this room of stuffed suits and Western patriarchy.

The long hard years of war and suffering were ahead of him.

By 1954, our patriot had indeed routed the French and was the first president of Northern Vietnam. But Ho Chi Minh (“bringer of light”) did not live to see the Reunification of his beloved Vietnam. He had always maintained, “It was patriotism, not Communism that inspired me.” I often wonder what the man would have made of what his country’s become.

Strong convictions

Vietnam upholds dissidents’ jail terms

Human rights lawyer Le Cong Dinh (right) / photo copyright AFP

Things have been humming along in our absence. A court in HCM City rejected appeals by four of the country’s most prominent political dissidents, including human rights lawyer Le Cong Dinh.

All four men were found guilty of, among other things, affiliation with “reactionary forces” overseas designed to overthrow the Socialist Republic of Viet Nam. The democracy activists received sentences ranging from 16 to five years imprisonment, followed by three to four years house arrest.

What makes these activists unusual in Vietnam is their relative youth, professional successes, and for two of them, their expensive Western education. Mr Dinh, a reputable lawyer, is well known not only in Vietnam but also overseas, and there have been numerous calls from international organizations for his early release. Observers in the United States and France question the government charging the defendants with “peaceful evolution,” claiming it amounts to no more than having an opinion.

Testifying before the court, Mr Dinh said, “I have been influenced by Western ideas of democracy, freedom and human rights during my studies abroad.”

Trial watchers say this is why the Communist regime clamped down harshly on the dissidents. While economic reforms have been occurring since the doi moi (renovation) of 1986, the Party insists it will manage social liberalization at its own pace. Some analysts also believe there is an internal struggle occurring within the Party between moderates and hardliners in the run-up to the 11th Communist Party Congress next January. Still others speculate this may be the rationale behind increasingly complicated visa renewals for foreigners in Vietnam—pesky outsiders do have a habit of bringing their contraband ideas with them wherever they go.

Re-entry blues

There’s no place like home

The return to Saigon from the Philippines has been a bit odd. The re-entry back into a chaotic, aggressive city with its shrieking traffic is always difficult after a holiday, let alone an extended break. It’s not that I’m glum; it’s just more slow realizations. Here, I’d forgotten what silence was like; away, I gulped it in, great draughts of salt air punctuated by nothing louder than children’s laughter. It’s odd not to see the ocean from my patio perch in the alley or to have to wear stiff shoes again. It’s hot and smoggy and I forgot how to say “Stop here, please” to my cab driver and so on he drove thinking I wanted to go further in spite of my gesticulating arms.

But it seems Vietnam’s glad we’re back, as this is a coffee I was served the other day. It reminded me of a recent tourism campaign named “Vietnam—Hidden Charms.” I guess I have to agree.

Political legacy

The return of Aquino power

Early exit polls suggest the next president of the Philippines will be this man, a quiet 50-year-old bachelor with a revered mother and a martyred father.

Senator Benigno “Noynoy” Aquino III is the only son of former president Corazon “Cory” Aquino (Philippine’s first female president) and assassinated opposition leader Senator Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino II. Aquino Senior died during the ugly rule of Ferdinand Marcos. Aquino Junior’s win is tapped to be a landslide.

Political violence has always plagued the freewheeling Philippines. On Monday, when voting took place, bombs, grenades and shootings killed nine people and wounded 12, which security officials described as one of the country’s most peaceful elections. Today, another six died in a guerrilla-led ambush on the restive southern island of Mindanao. This brings the nation-wide election violence toll to 40 dead and over 1,000 wounded.

More than 17,000 positions are at stake, from president down to municipal council seats and local politicians are infamous for using their own hired guns or private armies to kill rivals and intimidate voters.

Voters fleeing violence at polling stations, glitches in the country’s first-ever (but untested) computerized voting system and stolen ballot machines have also marred the elections. With temperatures climbing above 37 degrees Celsius, officials nervously fanned ballot machines to stop them from overheating.

But none of this has stopped a colourful cast of characters from running for office, including former movie star (and former president) Joseph Estrada, who wants to be president again. World boxing champion Manny Pacquiao is vying for a seat in the country’s lower house. And also in the running for the lower house is none other than the 80-year-old widow of Ferdinand Marcos, former beauty queen Imelda.

Kent State Shootings

“Tin soldiers and Nixon’s comin’….Four dead in Ohio”

It’s the 40th anniversary of the Kent State shootings in Ohio.

The My Lai massacre happened in southern Vietnam in March 1968.

Richard Nixon is elected president of the United States in November that same year, promising to end the Vietnam War.

A year later, in November 1969, the public finds out about the massacre and its military cover-up. Five months later, despite his campaign promises, President Nixon escalates the war and invades Cambodia in April 1970.

This man died protesting the atrocities of My Lai and continuing US involvement in Vietnam and Nixon’s dirty war in Cambodia.

Photo copyright John Filo

His name was Jeffrey Miller and he was 20. National Guardsmen shot him in the face as they tried to disperse the unarmed crowd. Three other Kent State students died alongside Jeffrey that day on their campus. In outrage, over four million university students and faculty members went on strike across the US, hanging banners from their dorm windows that read, “They can’t kill us all.”

The war in Vietnam dragged on for another five years.

Ohio lyrics copyright Neil Young / Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young