My Lovely Time in Vietnam

I think that Vietnam remains apart of the American consciousness even almost 50 years after the War ended. Most Americans have a relative that fought in Vietnam, many have one that died. Vietnam is known as the war that America lost, and as a crack in our “perfect” military façade. Personally, I have an uncle that was a POW in the Vietnam War and my family constantly says that he’s not the same as before. Vietnam has been a part of my life (albeit minimally) since I learned what war is, but my tangential connection to Vietnam pales in comparison to that of actual Vietnamese people. The Vietnam War killed and maimed thousands of Vietnamese, and unlike other wars where black people were excluded, thousands of black people fought, raped, and killed in Vietnam. People that looked like me, so this time I couldn’t blame the faceless white man. I felt I had to take the good and the bad of being an American, and going to Vietnam scared me.

While I sat at the airport in Hong Kong waiting for my flight to Hanoi, I noticed a little boy beaming at me. He was about ten or so. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen a child smiling at me, but this smile seemed so close, so personal. After trying to ignore his smile for about a minute, I smiled back and said hello. His smile got even larger, he moved right next to me and asked me my name and where I was from – in English (this told me that he had to be wealthier). Once I told him that I was American, he proceeded to rub my arm, call me handsome, and asked to play games on my phone. Sadly, I thought that this little boy was about to rob me, but the earnestness of his youth broke me and this little Vietnamese kids laid on my arm playing games. I looked at his mom and she also shot me a meek smile and put her head back in her phone. I love kids and I have a ton of little cousins that wouldn’t hesitate to ask to play on my phone, but I was such a stranger to him, how could he be so friendly? Assuming that he was just an average little boy, his actions actually softened me up a bit and made me feel, well welcomed. This isn’t to say that I felt unwelcomed in China, but I never felt quite welcomed either. This kind, yet potentially naïve young man was the start of a great trip to my favorite country yet, Vietnam.

I spent about two and a half weeks in Vietnam, traveling from Hanoi to Ha Long Bay to Hue to Ho Chi Mihn City (HCMC or Saigon), and I witnessed some of the kindest people I’ve ever met in my life. Many were even kinder once I told them that I was an American which made me feel sort of bad. In HCMC I visited the American War Museum and got to meet with some of the present day survivors of Agent Orange, and I’ve never felt so much pain for something that my country had done. As an African American, I know exactly how evil America can be, I know how evil humans can be, but I’d be remiss to think that the forced labor of my ancestors doesn’t actively propagate my high standard of living. But the Vietnamese didn’t do anything to us, the Vietnamese didn’t do anything to me. I’ve always been a member of the political left, and against most American military intervention, but I’d never been to a place that’d been invaded by the U.S. While I couldn’t help but to enjoy the beauty of the country and people, I couldn’t shake feeling like an imperialist. I’d walk down the street and people would clamor for my money and attention, and I’d generally just ignore them, but it did hurt that I’m in a position to ignore people so damaged by my own.

When I was in Vietnam’s ancient capital, Hue, I asked my tour guide do the Vietnamese honestly still hold grudges against America for the War and he told me “No, Vietnam is too small and too poor to hold grudges. We can’t be like the Chinese, Japanese, and Koreans who all hate each other. We must look to the future if we are to succeed.” Initially I asked myself maybe African Americans should take on a similar view, but then I remembered American stopped attacking Vietnam, American has to stop attacking us.

A lot of people say that Vietnam is too chaotic, and I can absolutely see how they’d think that, but I actually kind of like the organized chaos. You can tell that the Vietnamese are ready to grow into a wealthier and more respected people and I think that’s commendable in so many ways. One of the larger takeaways from this trip that I’ve taken thus far is that people honestly just want the best for themselves; their methods may be abhorrent but it’s the truth. I think it’s terribly unfair that so many people have to slave away to gather some semblance of a comfortable life, but I suppose that’s just capitalism. The Vietnamese are a lovely people and I had a lovely time there. With all the changes happening in the region, I can’t wait to see what Vietnam will be in 20 or so years when I return. I hope they’re still friendly.