One thing that I know for sure is that Buddha has an Irish sense of humor. Yesterday, he plunked me into a river and today, he placed me into a dream, but first things first. I began the day by running out and buying a disposable camera and snapping pics during a 1/2 hour cyclo ride in Hanoi I had to hurry because my ride to the airport for the trip to Hue was waiting. It turned out that there was no rush because they don’t even want you to check in for domestic flights any earlier than one hour.
But being early turned out to be to my advantage. There were a couple hundred Vietnam veterans of Dien Ben Phu (and the American War I suspect). They were flying back there to begin a week of celebrations leading up to May 7th, the 50th anniversary of the victory and the end of the French War. While sitting across from them, one man got up and came towards me and saluted. I stood up and returned his salute. I was able to get a picture of his group before they got on the plane and we parted company bowing to each other. That said a lot to my heart and mind.
My flight to Hue only took one hour and we landed at the airport in Phu Bai. Yep! Our old base. I looked out and remembered laying on that runway when it was tarmac, leaning against a pack-board, awfully glad to be back out of our intro to the DMZ. That’s when I heard the Sgt. Major yell out, “Hud! Up and at ‘em, Marine. Hop in. We’re going for a ride.” I jumped into the back seat of the mighty-mite and we headed up to Hue. Now, 38 years later, I was in a taxi, doing it again.
From three days of overcast, humidity and drizzling rain in Hanoi, here was the Vietnam sun I remembered. And the environment was much more familiar. Going from Hanoi to Hue is like going from New York to LA. Then we pulled into the Citadel and my hotel that looked like it belonged in Palm Springs. It even has a pool right outside my room’s veranda door. Tough duty, marine.
After getting settled, I jumped into Huan’s cyclo and we were off to see the sites and to begin a friendship. He took me by the American War Museum and asked if I wanted to see it. Told him no thanks, “Been there! Done that!” I liked Huan in that first hour because he took me by his children’s school so I could meet them. That made us both feel good and equal when I showed him and his children my family’s photo.
He then took me to a beautiful home surrounded by a wondrous garden. A nice Vietnamese lady came out and welcomed me in perfect English with a French accent. I was invited to come to have my supper there that evening. They have a one item menu, with 8 courses. I said that I would be back at 1930. Huan was waiting for me at 1915 and off we went.
I stepped into the past. The house was deep into a residential area of old and far enough away that you couldn’t hear the sounds of the city. I was ushered out back to a veranda with a table set for one and a chair facing the botanical garden with lighting and shadows and the soft sounds of jazz in the air: For the next hour and a half, I was in a paradise of an older colonial time. A place that I had never known. It’s called Y Thao Garden at 3 Thach Han Street, Hue. Treat yourself soon and come to Hue. I slept great and so will you.
S’lan,
Tom