Saigon (cont.) by Ted Guhl

I do not usually wander about with my passport, Visa card, etc. I take what I hope will be sufficient cash, my international driver's license, and a photocopy of my passport. However, this time I happened have a Visa card in my wallet. Hell, I thought, why are you worrying about a Visa card when you should be worrying about survival?
We came to an open area in the middle of several dwellings. I could see a number of people through unglazed windows and doorless entrances. An intense, muscular looking man stared at me as I passed one dwelling. In a few moments we were in a small room, perhaps 10 by 12 feet. The walls were plywood covered with red and gold wrapping paper with a hearts and flowers design. Overhead were tinsel bells hanging from a neon light. It looked like a child's room decorated for Christmas. There was a dresser and self-standing closet along one wall. The floor was concrete. A portion of the room on the left was enclosed in mosquito netting, with a woven straw mat and pillows on the floor inside. On the dresser, and in various neat piles elsewhere, were a variety of clothes and other belonging. Huong said that she rented this room, that it cost $100 a month. I assumed she meant for business. It must be a room that normally belonged to the children of one of the families, I decided. I supposed it was a source of extra income for one of these families.
Huong indicated that I should step inside of the netting. Then she hung a large cloth across the center of the room, enclosing our half from the side with the door. She entered the net and sat facing me. She was waiting for me start! I took off my shirt and said, "Okay, you give good massage now. Okay?" and I lay down on my stomach.
The massage was short and tentative. When I realized it was over, I took out ten dollars and gave it to her. She gestured for me to stay where I was and left. Before long she returned; behind her a much older woman entered and squatted outside of the net. She had a bowl, a knife and an Asian apple. She pealed and cut the apple, handed a piece to Huong who offered it to me. After eating two slices, I indicated I had enough. The old woman left. I put on my shirt, then took a condom from my pocket and handed it to Huong. She smiled and looked at me questioningly. I said , with a smile, that she should keep many of these and use them. This bothered her. I said, "Up to you, Okay?" She nodded and put the condom in a box in the dresser.
Back at the cafe a smiling Lien said, "You feel like young man now?"
"No. I feel very happy, very good. I am still old man, but no hurt legs." This wasn't exactly true, my legs were still pretty sore.
"Only massage," she asked?
"Yes." I replied.
A conversation ensued between her and Huong in Vietnamese. The gist of it seemed to be that Lien didn't believe it and Huong, while agreeing it was so, seemed unsure what it meant.
"Why?" asked Lien.
At the moment I had no answer. I thought of saying again that I was an old man but that was quickly becoming a cliche. Should I tell them of my concerns about AIDS? A discussion of my relationship? Perhaps I could say something about my sense of morality. Good grief, I thought, that's pompous. I didn't know what to say. So I shrugged.
The talk shifted to families, then places. Lien had a limited English vocabulary but was patient and quite good at communicating despite the limitations. Huong spoke far less but evidently she missed very little. Then, at one point she said, "You want to see Buddha?"
Not sure what she meant, but responding to the obvious tone of invitation, I said "sure."
"You understand? Buddha?"
"Yes," I said, more confident that I had heard correctly, "Wat, pagoda, temple, Buddha." She smiled.
"Family go, we take cyclos." said Lien.
"When?" I asked. The two sisters were involved in what seemed to be an animated conversation around planning. When they slowed down, I asked again.
"Tomorrow, eleven morning. Okay?" Lien replied. "We meet here, take cyclo."
"Yeah!" I replied enthusiastically. "Family come too?"
"Yaaaah!" Lien mimicked me, laughing.
The girls introduced me to a cyclo driver named Deng who took me back to my hotel. I decided during the ride back to change accommodations. Not only was my hotel a bit far from Central, but I had seen far less expensive places that were quite nice. Deng assured me he knew of a guest house near the cafe that was safe. I asked him to meet me at the hotel tomorrow at ten am to take me there. I had forgotten about my arrangements with the other driver.
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The next morning Deng was waiting. The other driver was too. He came over and said, "You say eleven morning!"
I tried to explain that I had decided to move hotels and he could take the bags in his cyclo, I would pay him. He wasn't listening through, and there were some angry looks between the two drivers. Finally, I took out two dollars and gave it to him and said I was sorry for the mistake, that I had forgotten. Then I put my bags in Deng's cyclo and got in. Frankly, I was relieved. Deng seemed far more accommodating, far less likely to take me where I didn't want to go.
Leaving the guest house later that morning, my excitement was heightened by anxiety as the old elevator with no door or gate literally creaked and jerked as it descended. I arrived at the cafe promptly at eleven. I was warmly greeted by Huong and introduced to Mama; who turned out to be the same woman who had brought fruit to the room after my massage last night! It was a revelation; that small room must be where Huong and her sister lived. After a coffee, We piled into two cyclos, Huong got in with me. I felt conspicuous passing through the crowded streets with a very young Vietnamese lady sitting in my lap, but most people either ignored us or smiled, so I began to relax and enjoy myself.
Outside of the temple, Chua Ngoc Hoang, Mama and Huong bought bundles of incense. As we entered the courtyard a line of monks with shaven heads and saffron robes were sitting on the ground. Some were children, as young as 5 or 6. They had alms cups and I was going to give a small donation when once again Huong stopped me. "Later," she said.
Entering the main sanctuary Huong divided her bundle of incense, giving me half and and showing me how to light it at the brazier. Taking me by the hand, she led me around and showed me where and how to place the sticks of incense. As we moved around she told me about each of the Buddha images -- one was for "happy future", another for "have money", and so forth. After we had placed all but a few sticks of our incense, we knelt before the central image, "This is great Buddha," she said, "you know great Buddha?"
"Yes," I replied, "Siddharta, Buddha from India." She looked at me uncertainly. (The Guidebooks informed me later that this was Ngoc Hoang, the Taoist Emperor of Jade.) Standing before his altar, she began the prayers, taking time to show me how to do them properly, how many times to gesture before one's face with hands palm to palm, how many times to prostrate one's forehead to the floor, palms up.
Next, with Mai, the youngest sister, and Mama we began to take photos. This was a big hit with the whole family; pictures of each of us before various Buddha images. At first I felt a bit uncomfortable, was it really all right to stand in the main sanctuary where people were praying and start clicking off photos? However, when one of the monks offered to take a picture of all of us, I relaxed.
We walked the various other areas of the temple, one of which held a large cistern with turtles sunning themselves along the sides and large carp swimming lazily in its murky waters. These I assumed were dedicated to the Vietnamese version of Tin Hau, Goddess of the sea.
Back in the main courtyard, Huong bought a cage of small birds. She gently removed two and placed one in each of my hands. Taking two for herself she told me to make a wish and let them go. I find it difficult to describe the pleasure I felt at that moment. The pagoda, the monks, Huong's family, the sunlight, the pungent smell of incense, and the murmur of worship all combined to create a moment I shall never forget. On the way out we all placed alms in the monk's cups. I had received much more than I had given.
Next we stepped back into the cyclos and were off to the zoo. First stop was a Vietnamese water puppet play at the History Museum, which is just inside the Zoo's entrance (note: the museum has an excellent collection of Bronze Age artifacts from various area cultures).
The water puppetry was highly entertaining to all of us. It related the defeat of a Chinese Overlord by an early Vietnamese Prince, who had been given a magic sword by a turtle god or goddess. Suddenly, I began to realize, when Mai took hold of one arm and Huong the other, that I was being treated with surprising intimacy by this family. Even Mama seemed to take a proprietary stance with me. I was delighted but a bit suspicious at such rapid intimacy. However, I fought this back and decided to damn well relax and be grateful for such warmth.
The next realization came while we were watching a zoo-keeper and her dancing bear. Huong had taken my arm and I became very aware that she was watching me closely as I watched the bear. I smiled at her. I didn't know what else to do at that moment. A part of me delighted in the contact and her obvious delight at being on this excursion. Another part of me thought, "She's got a crush on me? Good grief!" I vacillated between these two emotions the rest of the afternoon, whose most exciting moment occurred at the tiger cage.
They were two fully grown, healthy looking beasts in a large open cage comfortably landscaped with rocks, water and trees. As we approached a Vietnamese man climbed over the outermost protective railing to get a photograph of them through the inner bars. In the blink of an eye one of the tigers, with a frighteningly deep growl, sprung at him, covering the intervening twenty five feet in less than three seconds. The man jumped back, out of reach of a tiger paw poking through the inner bars, and fell over the outer railing. His hands were shaking as he examined his broken camera.
As we walked on from this incident, Huong held my arm even tighter and I knew it was not out of fear. We received a few disapproving looks from elegantly dressed Vietnamese men and women. I had nothing to feel guilty about but it bothered me none the less. Huong was aware of these reactions but seemed not to care.
Back in Central, Lien meet us at a local soup shop for dinner. Properly prepared Vietnamese soup is a wonderful experience. First a large bunch of fresh green herbs, something from the mint family, were brought to the table. Mama and Huong proceeded to pick individual leaves off, placing those that were unblemished in a pile at the center of the table. Lemons were cut up and arranged on a small dish. When the large bowls of soup appeared selected greens were placed in each bowl. Despite my misgivings about eating fresh unwashed greens the soup was delicious: hearty yet light, with a variety of flavors and textures.
During the meal Lien asked me if I wanted to meet them later that evening to play pool. By now my "yeah" had become a source of humor to everyone in the family.
We met at the cafe at 8 pm and went to Apocalypse Now, an expat bar just East of Deng Hoi Street. As cliche as it may seem, the Doors' "The End" was playing as we entered. On the right was a narrow bar and the opposite wall was covered with a chalk board for graffiti. Other walls were covered in posters from various Vietnam war films, including the Coppola film after which the bar is named. At the back is a large room with a full sized pool table.
We were early and managed to play a game or two of pool before the place began filled up. The men were almost all expats; business and engineer types, mostly in jeans and T-shirts. Several young Vietnamese women easily outplayed most of the men.
As the place filled, names went on the blackboard by the table. Whoever won would play whomever was next on the board; if you kept winning, you kept playing. Huong and Lien were paired up to play the current winners and, mostly because of Lien's skill, managed to beat them. Lien asked me to take Huong's place as her partner to play the next challengers. I hadn't played in years and was distracted by the noise and smoke of the bar. I joked about my bad shots and tried to keep it light. I don't think Lien was impressed. She took her game seriously and had hoped for a decent partner. We won, but I had not made a shot. I looked for Huong but could not see her. Feeling fuzzy headed I decided to go for a walk around the block.
The walk lasted about fifteen minutes. I returned to see Lien and another girl lose to an engineer from Norway. Lien was in a foul mood from losing (it would be quite awhile before her name came up on the chalkboard again) and Huong was angry that I had left without saying anything to her. I had a pretty good headache from the crowd, smoke, and noise, and managed to persuade our group to cross the street to another bar that was considerably less crowded and noisy. In the back was a pool table and only a few players.
Before long, the Norwegian engineer came in with several friends, including one European woman. The round of pool started. Lien tried again to beat the Norwegian but, even though he played badly this time, she lost. Her spirits were low to say the least. The Norwegian sat down at the bar next to me, openly smoking marijuana. He commented loudly on how poorly he had played.
"Well, One usually plays better if the competition is strong, right?" I asked.
"That's right," he replied.
I asked Lien if she would team with me against him and his partner. She unenthusiastically agreed. Although the engineer played a bit better, we won handily. Fortunately, I had become clear-headed, focused on the game and was able to make four or five difficult shots in a row. This so picked up Lien's spirits that she was laughing and playful as we left the bar. We went back to the outdoor cafe for coffee and Cokes and there Lien proposed that I rent a car the next day and we all go to Vung Dao, a beach resort two hours south of Saigon. When I agreed she went off to find Deng who could get us a car.
Deng suggested we go and stay the night; that he'd arrange a hotel room. Lien wanted no part of this. I couldn't seem to find out what all of this was going to cost. Meanwhile, Deng quietly said to me that he wasn't sure I should trust these two. "Maybe good persons, maybe bad persons," he said. "Maybe, You and I go. I know good hotel, cheap."
Thinking about his warning, I began to feel a bit paranoid. Still, I said no.
He said that he knew a girl I might like better than Huong.
I told him I wasn't interested.
Lien, who caught some of this, got angry. Finally he gave up his efforts and said he would arrange the car for us. I managed to make known my concerns about cost which started the whole thing up again. Deng said it would be cheaper for me to check out of the hotel and stay in Vung Dao for the night. I objected that I had to make a plane the next day and did not want to be that far out of town. Lien and Huong said I would not have to pay any hotel at all because I could stay at their house tomorrow night!
Finally we settled on renting the car just for the day. Lien informed me that they would pick me up at the hotel at five thirty in the morning! It was now about 2 am. Christ, I thought, what have I gotten myself into now.