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Tommy's Travels
Vietnam
November and December 2002

Old Friends

 

There was something in the way that he approached me that gave me a feeling that he was different.  The tone in his voice sounded genuine, as if he was really trying to help and not just trying to engage me in conversation to ask for a handout or try to sell me his latest photocopy of Lonely Planet. 

 

"Can I help you find something?" he said in an energetic and upbeat voice.

 

I told the gentleman that I was just getting my bearings and that I was heading to one of the Vietnamese Emperors mausoleums up the road.

 

I was in the historic city of Hue in central Vietnam.  It was a bright and sunny afternoon in early December.  The rains had been coming down for days and the newly visible sun served to draw the moisture out of the ground and create an air so steamy and thick that simply being outside caused one to ooze sweat.  I had decided that the best way to check out the city of Hue was via bicycle, so I had rented one from a restaurant back in town.  I had crossed the Perfume River and was heading away from town when I pulled over to the side of the road to refer to my trusty Lonely Planet and make certain that my course was correct.

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Vietnamese Woman From Chau Duc

"It right up road," he said in choppy English, "it being fixed so not much to see."

 

I thanked him for verifying my way and told him that I had come this far so I might as well check it out anyway.

 

"Where you from?  America?" he inquired.  "America # 1!"

 

"Yeah," I said casually, not wanting to make a big deal about my heritage given that fact that I was standing in one of the most heavily bombed cities during the Vietnam War, or the American War as they referred to it.

 

"I fought with Americans," he exclaimed with a quiet yet excited voice as if it were a secret and the fields to the left and right of us were teaming with Viet Cong or worse yet, Communist Government Officials.  "I was soldier for the South."

 

"Really," I said as I raised my eyebrows.

 

"Yes, yes. I like America very much.  You try to help my country, now I help you." He said with a grin that went from ear to ear.  "I take you to tomb."

 

We rode side by side for a few minutes, Dung on his Honda Dream and I on my rented two-wheeler.  He told me about his time during the war and how fortunately he was just a low level infantryman on the day when Saigon fell.  He said he was only put in jail for a few weeks, but senior level military had to be re-educated, which required more time and, I suspect, more pain.

 

"That why my English so good," he said, "cause I spend time talking to Americans during war."

 

About that time, we arrived at the tomb and sure enough it was being renovated.  Dung attempted to explain what little there was to see, but quite honestly, to me, it looked like another construction sight.  He asked me where I was headed next and I told him I would probably head further out to Tu Duc, another supposedly, more impressive mausoleum.

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Tommy Entering A Tunnel of Cu Chi

"It to far for you to ride on bike," he said "but I take you on motorbike."  I thanked him, but politely declined feeling a bit awkward about the offer.

 

"No charge," he said, "You American, you my friend.  I give you ride, you help me with English."  Sensing his sincerity and realizing that that was most likely the only way I would make it to Tu Duc before sundown, I accepted Dungs offer.

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Dung the Former South Vietnamese Soldier

He first led me to a house up the road where he said I could put my rented bike for safekeeping.  "Its okay. She my friend," he said reassuring me, and within seconds my bike was tucked away inside the house and we were on our way to Tu Duc.

 

We began cruising down the open road and I quickly realized that Dung was right about the distance, provided he was taking me to Tu Duc.  The minutes passed and I just sat back and enjoyed the breeze blowing in my face.  It was the closest I had come to air condition in quite sometime.  Soon Dung slowed down and asked me if I would mind taking a short cut.  Dung had slowly begun to build up his credibility so I had no reason to doubt his intentions.

 

"Sure, lets go." I said now feeling more and more comfortable with him.

 

A quick right and off we zoomed into the woods on trails that reminded me of my days as a child on a bike.  Twisting and turning we wound our way through the trees from one piece of property to the next.  On several occasions we crossed tiny makeshift bridges before we exited the woods into a parking lot where several tour buses were idle.

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Tommy at Ho Chi Minh's Mausoleum

"Tu Duc," Dung exclaimed proudly.

 

We spent the next hour roaming around the complex looking at the various self-created monuments to the Emperor.  Dung took the time to explain the meaning and significance of the many statues and buildings, taking pride in his duties and country's history.

 

As the sun began to fall in the sky, I realized that I had quite a ways back to town.  Back on the Honda Dream, Dung navigated the tricky back roads and before I knew it we were back at his friend's house.  Dung went inside where his friend was now home.  She came outside and Dung introduced the two of us.  She didn't say anything, but like most Vietnamese you meet she had a huge smile on her face.

 

I told Dung that I wanted to take a picture with him and asked if his friend would mind taking the picture.  Dung attempted to explain to her what to do, but she could never seem to quite grasp the concept.  She would hold the camera to her face, but she never actually pressed the button to take the picture.  Then, when she finally took the picture, she was pointing at the ground.

 

Dung and I laughed and he explained that she was deaf which is why she didn't really talk, but that she was very happy to have a visitor.  Dung walked me to the street where he shook my hand and thanked me profusely for accompanying him.  I felt as if there was something deeper in his thank you to me.  It was as if, to him, I represented all of the old friends, the Americans, who had stood shoulder to shoulder with him so many years ago.

 

Not once did Dung ever ask me for money.  He offered to meet me the next day and show me more of his country.  I told him that I was on a bus the next morning heading south.  As I left, I slipped him some Vietnamese Dong (the local currency).  We both looked at each other and simultaneously said "for gas."   I thanked him for sharing his town with me and began pedaling by bike towards town.

 

Dung gave me his makeshift business card.  If youre ever in Hue, and looking for someone to show you around, let me know.   I'll introduce you to an old friend.

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