A rare political post while searching for “bad hombres” in Mexico
It is day 40 on the extended Mexico sojourn. We’ve been in university cities, at the bottom of mines, in jungles, canyons, ruins, fishing ports and places with either a Portland Oregon or Miami vibe. We’ve been looking high and low but have yet to find any “bad hombres”.
We left America, as promised, as Donald Trump became president. In full disclosure, we planned to leave if Hillary Clinton won as well. It was time for a break from the insanity of 2016.
Even in 2000 year old ruins we’ve had wifi so despite daily decisions revolving around “does this t shirt smell or can I wear it” and “mezcal or beer” we haven’t lost touch with the discourse from my country.
here is what I think:
trump was elected president in a free and democratic, non violent process. He won by the rules in the constitution. People may not claim him as “their” president, but he is The president.
I would encourage my liberal friends to re-read the constitution. The president is Not all powerful; there are 3 branches (4 if you consider the media) and there is a balance of power.
Also, please stop the allusions to trump as Nazi; he isn’t one. He is a narcissist, which is a diagnosis-not an ideology. Brownshirts aren’t coming under cover of darkness for Jews, Muslims, gays, Mormins, vegetarians, Meryl Streep or Lindsay Graham,(ok, Lindsay Graham maybe). Adding fear does nothing to dismantling the trump agenda, assuming he has one.
I will not blindly “resist”. Resist what.? I pray daily that Mr Trump will show, soon,a modicum of decency and humanity and cease demonizing the poor and disenfranchised , entitling the already entitled class, and speaks to our higher aspirations as Americans.
I will oppose vigorously any attacks on our civil liberties; that I will resist. And, if Mr Trump succeeds in having enacted laws violating human rights I will take a page from Thoreau, Gandhi, King and both oppose that law and accept consequences of obeying a higher authority. But I am a cautious pessimist…and do not believe it will come to that.
Arrival in Guanajuato
We land in Leon Mexico, the international airport for Guanajuato and the region. A great flight with me being mistaken for Robert DeNiro, an event which resulted in complimentary cocktails and a hummus-based snack box. Bless you Delta.
At “immigration” we are asked to fill in a form and stand in the only line (we are the only plane). A pleasant airport employee notes (in perfect English, unlike TSA officials at LaGuardia or JFK) that we failed to fill in “residence in Mexico” for our tourist card. Informing her we were here for six weeks and were staying, week one at an airnb owned by Mike and Ana she laughed, “ok, but fill in the name Camino Real Hotel – it’s well known and no one will hassle you”. Welcome to Mexico.
Our luggage arrived in minutes, a courteous taxi booth informed us of the rates ($25 for a 45 minute ride), took our money, gave us a receipt and had someone escort us to a waiting mercedes taxi. The driver, equally courteous brought us to our difficult-to-find destination where Mike, from Oklahoma, awaited and gave us keys, instructions to the cable tv, wifi and locks, all of which worked perfectly. It was late. In the morning we get to explore Guanajuato – once the source of much of the worlds’ silver and a rich town, patterned in style from imperial Spain. A university town with alleys, nooks and crannies, touristy squares, I am confident that we will find some of those “bad hombres” that Mr. Trump warns about; the ones who have not already fled to the US before the wall is built!
In the morning we find perfectly hot water,in the shower, better wifi than in New York, good coffee and one of the most beautiful cities I have ever seen-and I have seen a lot.
in mexico – searching for “bad hombres”
Mr. Trump, the president of the United States, warned of “bad hombres” coming from Mexican. The ones bringing the drugs, rape, crime. His caveat was that he assumed that some were “good people”
On Inauguration Day we exited the United States to head to Mexico. I had made a solemn pledge to leave the US if Trump was elected president. In full disclosure, I made a solemn pledge to leave the US if Hillary Clinton was elected president. A no lose proposition.
I have nothing but fondness for Mexico. I have traveled widely in the country, but not widely enough. My daughters studied in Cuernavaca. Much of the American southwest was Spanish/Mexican and we incorporate their food, customs and culture into the mosaic that is America.
I do not like the demonizing of any peoples, races or groups. It is mean and mindless.
So, I am here in Mexico in search of bad hombres and good experiences. My seasons in Saigon has ended; now it is a new adventure!
Election daze in Vietnam
It is evening in Vietnam – or morning/mourning in America – depending on whose candidate won or lost.
Here in Vietnam, people followed the election closely with most Vietnamese I know having rooted for Hillary Clinton. The reasons: 1. they like her husband Bill Clinton, the first US president to come to Vietnam (and for whom Pho 2000 – the soup chain was named in his honor and the year he came) 2. she is a woman and 3. Trump was too “loud”.
The exception was my reliable Saigon barber, Cuong. In addition to a good haircut he dishes out, softly, pearls of wisdom, promising to make me 10 years younger by his craftsmanship, and generally good humor.
In a pre-election whisper he proffers “I like Trump”. I am surprised since he seems to be both well informed and an outlier. “Why”? I ask. His answer was simple:
“Trump is strong, and Vietnamese like strong leaders” and “Trump hates China and Vietnamese hate China too”. Simple answers and understandable.
A long time between my blogs; life has interceded in its myriad forms but I am back here for another “season” albeit in Da Nang.
The most liveable city in Vietnam – Da Nang
When foreigners arrived in Vietnam over the centuries – Japanese, French, Americans – they landed in Da Nang or Tourane or any of its prior namesakes. And, for good reason.
The city’s oceanfront stretches for endless miles, framed by Song Tra (Monkey Mountain) to the North and Marble Mountain to the south. Nearby are cool hill climes (Ba Na which has one of the longest cable cars in the world) and higher peaks further afield.
I may sound like a Chamber of Commerce or tourism authority shill, but Doi Yeu Da Nang – I love DaNang. It is where the American University in Vietnam (AUV) is due to launch this summer/fall – for real – and where change has happened quickly over the 15 years since I first visited – but in an orderly, quality manner, befitting good urban management and a progressive outlook.
I walk from my modest hotel to the riverfront, through tree-line neighborhoods and daily life, without hassle or hustle found in larger cities in the country (and elsewhere). Coffee shops abound, chic and local restaurants, a night scene or bars and music even and enough expats (not too many yet thankfully!) to bring amenities to the city; along with a thriving middle and upper class of Vietnamese locals and visitors.
The Cathedral in DaNang is alive with its English 10 AM Mass and the energetic Sister Catherine (my late mother’s name I might add – fate) signs me up to teach English as a volunteer; it was impossible to say “no” to her. The Mass was alive with applause for the readers (all women), applause for love, mercy and forgiveness, and applause for Jesus – something I rarely experience in the US. There is a joyfulness to the place and in my celebration I sip a cold, fresh coconut (90 cents) on the river quay and watch the world go by.
Decision….
The long awaited letter on behalf of the Government of Vietnam authorizes the “American University in Vietnam”, Dai Hoc My tai – Vietnam.
It’s not over until it’s over (as the late Yogi Berra said) but this “decision” from the government on behalf of the Prime Minister is (in the words of Donald Trump) “huge”.
Stay tuned…..
What’s in a name?
Vietnam, like so much of the world, embraces the”brand”. Whether high end Gucci or lower end KFC, things with an identity – whether good or not – find a following.
So too it is with education.
The recent hoopla over the Fulbright University of Vietnam has evoked endorsements by the new US Ambassador, press coverage in Vietnam and the US, and a constellation of interests that seem irresistible. After all , who can resist Harvard, Fulbright, big money and “elite” education?
The Fulbright folks have labored long in Vietnam (twenty years?) so you sometimes reap what you sow. I wish them well. My time here has only been 5 years – although there are days it feels much longer so I am hardly an “expert”.
What I do suspect is that they will be succesful,launching an “elite” graduate focused university with attendant speakers and speeches about cooperation, autonomy, academic freedom, a new chapter between our two countries etc.
It would represent a public relations coup for Vietnam and another notch in the belt for the Harvard-Fulbright axis (after all, rival Yale has its campus aready in Singapore!)
But,in the final analysis is that actually what Vietnam needs; can’t elite and connected students already find countless pathways to American university education? Doesnt Vietnam benefit more from foundational learning – like english speaking, writing, understanding, problem solving, critical thinking and skill development in fields where there are actual jobs?
But Fulbright and Harvard come with a brand identity and that is hard to resist. I wish them well, but I would rather see the US government and the Vietnamese government encourage the kind of educational diversity and variety that made the US education system great; all types of schools for all types of learners.
Making your own (safety) net in Danang
Vietnam ranks near the top in countries where citizens are “self-employed”; topping 40 percent.
The term can have many connotations, ranging from the entrepreneurial CEO who has created the rare non-government connected business to the woman with a small griddle making ban xeo or your local pho salesperson or shoe shine boy.
No one can fault the Vietnamese spirit for entrepreneurship or their work ethic, putting in long hours, attracting customers, ordering supplies, and dealing with the myriad waiting hands that permeate officaldom in the country.
There is a double edged sword, of course, to this spirit of self-employment. The country lacks any social safety network. No retirement funds, social security or much else in security other than what you earn, save, invest and the age-old support of family and loved ones.
Not benefiting from insider deals, inherited wealth, or other advantages, many Vietnamese work hard, owning the little shops…
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Making your own (safety) net in Danang
Vietnam ranks near the top in countries where citizens are “self-employed”; topping 40 percent.
The term can have many connotations, ranging from the entrepreneurial CEO who has created the rare non-government connected business to the woman with a small griddle making ban xeo or your local pho salesperson or shoe shine boy.
No one can fault the Vietnamese spirit for entrepreneurship or their work ethic, putting in long hours, attracting customers, ordering supplies, and dealing with the myriad waiting hands that permeate officaldom in the country.
There is a double edged sword, of course, to this spirit of self-employment. The country lacks any social safety network. No retirement funds, social security or much else in security other than what you earn, save, invest and the age-old support of family and loved ones.
Not benefiting from insider deals, inherited wealth, or other advantages, many Vietnamese work hard, owning the little shops and stands that are the foundation of the country.
I rarely praise individual enterprises (that is not true – everyone who reads this blog or knows my tastes in Vietnam can recognize my fondness for Kim’s for hair washing or Bo Tung Xeo for barbequed beef). But I wanted to recognize a little shop – one without a facebook page or trip advisor listing – that I have stopped in at for over a decade in visiting working in Danang. It is in the shadows of the pricy Furama Hotel and Pullman on hotel row.Shop Tram at 17 Duong Truong Sa Street – the road that winds along the East Sea for miles. . But the place is known mostly as where Dong – Van – and Loan are – and has been a way station for tourists tired of inflated prices and where savvy locals have discovered.
One of their cards tout “Marble Souvenirs, Whole Sale and Retail, the Souvenirs”. A second card proffers “Beer-Wine-Cakes” along with “Laundry. Washing Machine. Motobike. Car Forrent” and a 3rd touts “foot massage”. Everything the weary, harried traveler needs – safe, clean, affordable, legit. No assignment is impossible for them. Motorbike tour – check. Need an apartment or a cook – check. Or just need a place to rest, have a cold drink and learn about life in Danang – this is the place.
These are Danang Women,from Marble Mountain, trying to get by, making a dong or two and enjoying the experience, despite the challenge as shops like this one vanishes, under the onslaught of mega hotels and casinos, fueled by land speculation.
Here at Shop Tram, Vietnamese self employment is not a statistic but a human face – 3 of them.
So – go there!
I’m Back
My Seasons in Saigon (this blog, not the seasons themselves) went into a long hibernation these past 9 months.
The latter half of 2014 had its share of tragedies and near misses; the death of my partner’s father, the near fatal illness of my brother and in winter, the death of my mother. Writer’s block ensued and also a sense that I had no more stories to tell about the wonderful, frustrating, and always interesting land of Vietnam – a place I call – along with other places – “home”.
2015 began on a different note; the birth of Riley, my first grandchild, the engagement of my son, and back in America several blizzards of biblical proportion (if the Bible referenced snowfall) and then escape from the frigid Northeast US back to Vietnam.
Back in Saigon I arrived during TET, the Lunar New Year, where the roads are clogged with cars, buses, motorbikes as millions of Vietnamese flock to their hometowns or the beaches to celebrate. It’s a time I love because Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City becomes a smaller town again, shrunk by millions and walking (I still am addicted to my meandering from the outskirts to District 1) becomes safer (fewer motorbikes on the sidewalk to jostle with!) , the air fresher, and the vibe more tranquil.
Everything becomes strangely familiar, as if I did not take a long break from the city/ Shopkeepers recognize me and smile. The vendor selling coconuts outside the Reunification Palace spots me on my walk and takes his machete to open a fresh and cold coconut for me, knowing I won’t pay tourist prices. The eyeglass maker at My Tien greets me and since I have left my prescription glasses in New York makes me another pair in less than a day, at a special rate, knowing I have brought numerous US guests to his place.
I stop in Kim’s on Le Than Ton Street for my customary “back in Saigon shampooing”, savoring the hour long hairwashing, facial and shoulder massage with familiar hands since have been a customer for more than 4 years now. And, on Dong Khoi, which still radiates an old Saigon glow at sunset, my newspaper vendor, as he always does, spots me two blocks away, meets me on the corner brandishing the Economist, Time Magazine, and the Wall Street Journal, seemingly fresh off the press.
It’s while having a bahn mi in a local stand that I realize there there are more stories to tell – about Saigon, about Vietnam, about eternal truths, and quirky events. So the blog is back. One of the new “stories” is my relocate (I think) to DaNang, the hub of the central region of Vietnam and home to the university project many years in the making
I have visited DaNang as a tourist and on business dozens of timesear over a 14 year period but cannot say that I “know it”. It reminds me a little of California decades ago – beautiful long beaches, mountains. It’s streets are (by regional standards) orderly, tree lined, and traffic slow and bearable. It’s government is known to be efficient, progressive and forward thinking.
When I arrive for a meeting with my new colleagues and staff, one girl, with a Cal State education informs me she has read my blog – or maybe it’s my book of the same name. I smile but instinctively blush and wonder what she (and the nodding others think of it). I have not been shy about my affection for Vietnam, nor my observations about the challenges it faces and its blemishes.
So, the blog is back. Maybe I should recast it from Seasons in Saigon to Days in Danang? or Visits to Vietnam or some other alliteration? Regardless, the reader can expect more, from me soon
Roy Nirschel -My Seasons In Saigon 