My birthday in Saigon was not what I expected it to be… not that any birthday is, really… But I wanted to go to the market, get a dragon, figured we may as well stop by the War Remnants Museum for an hour-ish for Andrew to see, and then go straight to a cafe a friend recommended and lounge for the rest of the afternoon. None of this really happened, except the museum, for an entirely too long of time on one’s birthday. I mean seriously, what was I thinking?
Lesson #6 learned from traveling around the world: Do NOT go to any kind of war-related museum on your birthday. Unless pictures of… perhaps the effects of agent orange put you in the party mood, it’s simply better to avoid going. Save it for the day after your birthday at least…
First stop, Ben Thanh Market. I thought, surely I’d be able to find my dragon here!
The market is pretty big, and last time I was there, tents and miscellaneous shops were set up on the outside of the market structure. We entered through the clothing section, Andrew (finally) settled on a pair of sunglasses, and we walked through, hoping to find a dragon. Me, more so than Andrew, of course. Through the fruit stands, coffee stands, noodle shops, and then we set foot in – what felt like a souvenir section. Unfortunately the only dragons that were offered were of the keychain variety. Not exactly what I had in mind.
Disappointed, we made our way to The War Remnants Museum. I had already been there, but didn’t remember it taking very long (I think they’ve added a few sections or reorganized in the past four years). I also seemed to have blocked from my memory how horrible and awful it made me feel setting foot inside. American planes and tanks line the outside of the building, while Anti-American propaganda pretty much hangs on all of the walls inside of the building.
I’m not the most knowledgeable about the Vietnam War, but I know enough to tell that this museum is ridiculously one-sided. Regardless of your opinion (if America should have been involved in the war or not), the museum presented the war (in my very humble opinion) as if it was America who was the enemy- and America only! I didn’t walk away (for the second time) from this museum having any of my questions answered, if anything dozens of more questions were raised. It did nothing to explain a step by step process of how the war began, what happened during the war (other than to what lengths America destroyed the countryside and people- which granted, we did, but still, a little more well-rounded explanation would have been appreciated). Oh, and by the way, thanks Vietnam for the entire section of Agent Orange (complete with orange walls, as if to really drive the point home) symptoms, side effects, and birth defects. Because by the time I made it to that section, as an American I didn’t feel bad enough…
“Well they won, they can write whatever they want to in their history books…” Andrew replied to one of my fits.
“But that doesn’t make it right.” I retorted, longing for a happier birthday.
Here’s what got my panties in a twist:
1. The museum didn’t seem to acknowledge that it was the North who originally thought the South was the enemy (and vice versa)
2. Why do people pose in front of airplanes, bombers, and tanks that wreaked such havoc during the war? I remember asking my mom to to take a picture of me in front of the Enola Gay at the Smithsonian when I was 13 years old or so. I think I was excited that I knew what it was more than anything else. But I remember being really confused, thinking “do you smile in front of a plane that dropped the first atomic bomb?” I went for the confused look and have since never had a picture taken of me in front of something similar.
3. Senator Bob Kerrey. Why is it that a senator (or fill in the blank government position here) can hold office after killing innocent women and children in a war (and according to the museum do a lot more really horrible things) but a senator (or was he a representative?) can’t tweet a picture of his package? I’m not condoning either. But don’t you find it a little fascinating that one is ok because it’s “patriotic” and the other is practically considered heinous just because it’s creepy? And it is creepy, I’m not standing up for the pervert tweeter, but at least his tweet didn’t murder anyone!
After the museum, we stopped by the post office to mail a postcard to my favorite elementary school students, and then we tried to find the cafe Hans recommended to us. We talked about the Vietnam War nearly the entire time. Which I enjoy. I really enjoy talking about politics and history with Andrew, but maybe it’s not a good idea to do so when walking around for two hours (in what felt like circles) trying to find a restaurant at an address that did not match up.
Lesson #7 learned from traveling around the world: Get exact directions, and confirmation of a cafe’s address/location before you go traipsing around to find it on your birthday. It’s just not worth the three hours of looking for, not finding it, and walking home.
By the time dusk rolled around, we were forty minutes or so away from our hotel without a dragon, a clue where the cafe was, and any kind of “Yay it’s my birthday!” feeling. And I desperately wanted all of those things, which led to desperately wanting other things- like a hot shower, and clothes that weren’t from my backpack, a backpack I liked (rather than the one I have), and my girlfriends to celebrate my birthday with me… A “Happy Birthday!” on Facebook, or an email if I’m lucky is nice, but it’s just not the same, you know? Anyway- The list went on in my head, and I started to sniffle. Andrew stopped walking and gave me a hug and promised we’d find a place to sit down soon, which we did, and we even found a souvenir shop, that didn’t have a dragon, but gave me directions to where I could find one.
After sitting down, a few drinks, and directions to a dragon, I decided my 30th year might not be so bad after all…
