Of Temples and Monks

I have begun to write an epic poem that tells of the experiences of the last 24 hours. It is hardly begun, so you will have to settle now for a short sketch and some pictures. Let me frame this by telling that the heat and humidity are relentless and oppressive. Yesterday, our guide San picked us up at 5:30a.m. We drove out to the ticketing place for a 1 day temple tour. This included a picture taken to be printed on the ticket. Then, as pilgrims, we proceeded to the temple of Angkor Wat. With literally hundreds of others we situated ourselves (in our case on the stone walls of the library) to watch the sun rise over this temple. It is difficult to explain the temples. They are made of sandstone and most are in bad repair...nevertheless, they are magnificent. The Intricacy of the carvings, stonework, and story telling is just mind bending. UNESCO has come to help with restoration work which is ongoing. The United States, as well as other countries have contributed money and expertise toward these efforts as well.
Pictures that we can take do little justice to the enormity of the temples. Our guide is so wise. He put us in every place and toured us through each one in a way to minimize congestion and heat, as much as possible. During this day we visited Ankgor Wat, Ta Prohm (and let us say that Ta Prohm was the filming site of the movie Tomb Raiders starring Angelina Jolie...we can't wait to get home and see it now). There are some incredibly huge Sang trees wound around the ruins. The faces at Angkor Thom and the Bayon (which were first Hindu and then hundreds of years later became Buddhist temples) are beautiful. The Bayon encloses 54 towers decorated with more than 200 enigmatically smiling stone faces.
To back track a minute, it was at Angkor Wat, our first temple, that I experienced a Buddhist ambush. Trailing slightly behind San and Pam, I was looking for good photo ops. As we passed through an arch, I noticed a bit of color and smelled burning joss sticks in a side corridor. I turned in to investigate. Immediately a man came out of the shadows and placed two joss sticks in my hand saying, "welcome! Come in here." I started to say no thanks and back up but he repeated his invitation to come in, so I did. Still with joss sticks in hand he brought me before a sitting Buddha. "Now you must kneel and bow three times". I did that, because now I'm in a position of no return. "So now, you must touch the Buddha foot and then touch forehead, for luck." I did that, but now I'm getting nervous about where my companions are as they did not see me drop off into this side gallery. "Now you put joss sticks in sand bowl. You will have much good luck." I put the joss sticks in the sand, and the man unfolds a sash that is across the Buddhas chest and says, "Now you can leave something for Buddha." I leave a dollar and scram. As I turn into the main corridor, the man has ambushed another two tourists. They already have joss sticks in their hands. I hurry to find Pam and San, but don't tell about the Buddha ambush until later. Did I mention that the heat and humidity are relentless?
After lunch we drive out to the monastery where we will spend the rest of the day and overnight. We assume our guide and driver will dump us out and come back in the late morning after meditation. Thankfully, this is not the case. Not only has a guard been hired to sit outside our room (company policy when we are not staying in approved lodging), but San is staying overnight too.
We meet our teacher monk...San, like our guide. He is patient and kind and his skin glows a rich brown, his eyes sparkle and invite friendship and ease. We sit under a tree in chairs, sweat rolling down our faces and soaking ou clothes. We listen, ask questions, share family stories. After an hour or so, we tour around the monastery. It is a small one. The ground is dusty and thirsty. We meet the head monk who is also kind and smiling. He talks about growing older, aches and pains, and his failing eye sight. His cell phone rings, conversation pauses as he answers.
The heat is oppressive, and we walk to the meditation center...the section for nuns. We are staying in a room here. San will stay in a room nearby. Until evening chanting, nothing is happening. It is too hot. Pam is not doing well. In our room there are two mats in the floor. A thin mattress on each...a sheet and a pillow. A mosquito net covers each mattress. No fan. No moving air at all. We do have in room toilet...it doesn't flush. There is a large cistern of water alongside the toilet. One dips two bowls of water to dump down the toilet to constitute flushing. San has put a cooler with ice and water and soft drinks in our room. Several people have asked if we will be OK with rice and fish at the breakfast meal. Note ( says our itinerary): The monks have their last meal at 11AM. No dinner is planned for the evening; Buffalo Tours will however prepare snacks and fruits, which they have...a large bag full. We are too hot to eat.
San goes off to visit his aunt. We are alone among the monks and nuns. Pam needs to lie down. I say come outside and sit on our steps...not much better, but inside the room is very hot and stuffy. Now, Pam is too sick to sit outside. She lies down under her mosquito net. I soak bandanas in ice water from the cooler, pack her head and neck and go outside to drink water and watch.
The few nuns visible are moving slowly, finishing laundry, sweeping walkways. It is quiet. A voice from next door says, "Hello." I look. There is a young girl (maybe 20 something) in a wheel chair. After a few minutes she wheels herself to the bottom of my steps. She asks about my friend. Sick, I say. Resting. Very hot she says.
Her English is halting, but enough so we can talk. My Khmer, of course is non existent. She decides to teach me a bit. I learn to say "Hello," "How are you?" " Thank you." We laugh together at my learning. In a minute, I can only remember, thank you--Acun...the heat has boiled the rest away. The girl tells me she lives with her aunt here. Her mother is dead, and although she tries to help out at home, he father will only pay for a year of schooling. Her step-mother is mean to her everyday. She is angry because the girl can only sit in her chair. So she comes to live with her aunt as part of the lay community.
We sit quietly in the heat. Her aunt passes by several times. I smile. Finally she comes over. We smile and nod. I ask the girl to say hello...we laugh at my attempt. The aunt looks at me with bald curiosity. They talk, giggle, and the aunt comes to sit below me on the steps. The two women talk again. "My aunt say your feet very white." I look down. My feet look like worms that have never seen the light of day. Very white, I agree. Brown skin good for sun...white skin better for snow. The aunt and girl talk again. The girl looks at me, says something. I nod and the aunt touches and rubs my foot. We laugh. VERY white, the girl reports for her aunt. Then she asks about my teeth...yes real. No braces, just grew this way. I comment they both have nice teeth. The aunt rubs my foot some more. Shadows lengthen. The girl and her aunt go home.
I sit until near dark. San comes back from his aunts, checks in...says good night. I use the non-flush toilet and roll I under my mosquito net. Pam has heat stroke and there is no relief. We both lie under netting, doing the Buddhist thing--following our breath--in, out...trying to center and become calm. Finally I drift off to sleep. It is dark, but then I hear drums and singing. The monks. I get up thinking it is early morning. No, it's 10:15 p.m. I go back to bed. Sweat, breathe, fall into twilight numbness...Quiet. Then drumming and singing.
All of the dogs in the monastery begin barking...that lasts a long time. Then quiet. I hear the guard arrive on his motorbike. A chair scrapes. He is in position. Despite the heat, San says our doors must be closed for safety...just a precaution...there is only one open window. No breeze. I think that I doze off and on, but not sure. All of a sudden loud gonging outside. I know that means wake for chanting. I open the door. Nothing moves. It is very dark except for a night lantern that flickers on the porch of one of the nuns. There is no more sound. It's 3:30a.m. I get back under mosquito netting and stretch out to sweat more.
Drumming, instruments, singing starts up. Monks must chant to canned music, I think. I drift back into suspended sweating. Then, more gongs. These are passing through the meditation center. I get up again. It's 5:30 a.m. San says time to go to hear the novice monks chant. We get up, all clothes are on and soaked. It is dark. We walk the road between the meditation center and the monastery by flashlight.
We watch the head monk light the candles around the Buddha icons. He is listening to a dharma lesson on his small tv. In the distant background, drums, singing, noise. All dogs get up and bark. Wedding celebration San tells us. Ohh, I think. Monks do not chant all night to canned music. Good. The wedding party will go on for 3 or 5 days. The bride and groom get very tired, says San. He knows as he was just married last year during wedding season. Later, as we drive to our hotel, we see the wedding procession filing down the street. People dressed in suits and brightly colored brocades in single file. They carry bowls of rice and other gifts. At the head of the line walk the bride and groom. Ahead of them the musicians with flutes, strings, drums. Ahead of them, the photographer. They are going to the banquet hall. It is still hot.
Like shadows, the baby monks come in. A dog guards the chanting space. He is wise and knows what goes on. The head monk's cell phone rings. He talks. More monks assemble. Quiet, then the head monk says some words in Pali, and the chanting begins in response. It is beautiful, soothing, ancient. After an hour of chanting, we have talked with San. He understands Pam is sick and needs the cool of the hotel. He has been awake since 2:00. He calls our driver. When the chanting ends, we excuse ourselves. Say good- bye, receive a blessing for safety and long lives for ourselves and our families, then we get in the car and drive to the hotel.
We have our room back. San makes everything go smoothly. We shower and Pam crashes in bed. I begin writing my epic poem. The door knocks, and room service delivers a beautiful lotus plant...from San. After lunch, we return to our room. Pam is better. Now I crash with tiredness. I sleep. The door knocks. Room service again...this time with a bottle of wine and a fruit plate...from our tour company. The country manager has also called to make sure we were OK and did we need anything. Amazing.
Later on we swim in the deep blue infinity pool. Delicious, we think. Overhead soft pines sway gracefully in the wind which is gathering storm clouds. We have a lovely dinner. Tomorrow San will come at 11:25 and we will be off to Bangkok where we will stay overnight, close to the airport. then, an early morning flight to Tokyo, Dallas, Denver. End of story...or this part anyway. Thank you for traveling with us. P.S. we are both well, recovered and happy to be coming home. San says, tell all friends and family... Cambodia a very safe and beautiful place to visit.
Angkor Wat at dawn




One of the five towers




One of the trees at Ta Phrom




Exquisite carvings




One of the faces at Ankor Thom, Bayon




Another face




Our teacher monk, San




Our room at the monastery...outside. Can we do this?




Inside, good sport




My friend and her aunt




San, our guide, getting ready to visit his aunt




A look into the past




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Location:Siem Reap, Cambodia

The Tunnels of Cu Chi

Today, March 15: Cu Chi tunnels - return to Tan Son Nhat airport and fly to Siem Reap. We left the hotel at 9 a.m. and arrived at the Cu Chi tunnels about 10:30. Upon arrival, we are scheduled to watch a short introductory video on the construction of the tunnels. Our guide asked us several times if we we OK to watch an anti-American film. We assured him that was going to be OK and enter an open-air, thatched roof, lecture hall. The old, black and white propaganda film, with dramatic Vietnamese music started. The narrator spoke in English but had that same kind of scratchy, preachy voice we remember from childhood news broadcasts. Here is the story: the heroic people of Cu Chi are just minding their business farming and supplying the Viet Cong with food. The Americans begin to bomb Cu Chi, killing villagers--adults, as well as children in school. Huge craters are left from the bombs dropped by B52's. Essentially, Cu Chi is a jungle village where growth of runners, trees and vines make movement difficult. The village is near the Mekong River. Following the practice of tunnel building started up north, the villagers and the Viet Cong soldiers begin essentially an underground village. By day the villagers farm and by night they begin to dig the three levels of the underground system. Teams of three did the digging in several places at once. First a square hole was dug, approximately 3 feet per side and about 10 feet deep. One person broke the ground with what looks like a bamboo spear. The next person scraped the loose dirt into a basket, and dumped that into the basket of a third person. The third person would carry the dirt to a bomb crater or to the river, so that digging activities couldn't be detected. The tunnels had three levels...an entry level, living level and working level. Periodically, there were vent holes, dug down to the levels at an angle so that fresh air would flow into the tunnels. Cooking was done in one room, eating done "next door." The cooking room we visited had a fire going and they were actually cooking tapioca root. A large tree trunk was shoved into the fireplace under the cook pots, and smoke was vented off some distance to be released into the jungle in a way that made it look like fog or mist. All of the entrances, vents, etc. were disguised and very difficult to find.

In order to show visitors how all of this works, various parts of the tunnels have been excavated, or recreated so that one descends about 10 feet of stairs and enters an excavated room. Thatching covers each area, but the roof is elevated enough to give good light by which to see. Around the area are also hiding holes visitors can get into, and there are some tunnel sections that have been widened for visitors to go through. When first dug (said the movie narrator) sections of the tunnel were purposely left very narrow so that "big belly" Americans would get stuck. The narrator also talked a lot about villagers who were decorated by the Viet Cong for being American killer heroes.

In addition to the living areas, we saw where spent bomb shells were converted to reused weapons, looked at some of the horrible booby traps that were rigged for soldiers to step on or in...usually resulting in a fall onto spears, stakes or metal stakes. The ways we have devised to hurt, maim, kill one another are truly terrible. The film wasn't nearly as difficult to see and hear, as it was/is to contemplate the absolute misery and degradation of war. The pictures will better illustrate what I'm trying to explain...Also on display we're the remains of an American tank as well as numerous bomb craters made by 500-pound bombs from B52 bombers.

In the afternoon, we left Saigon in a driving rainstorm, rising above the mut and city crowds and war memories to land in Siem Reap, Cambodia--hot and humid. Tomorrow we get picked up at 5:30a.m. To watch the sunrise over the temples at Angkor Wat, back to our hotel by 8:30 for breakfast and repack, and then we are delivered for our afternoon and overnight stay at the Buddhist monastery. When we get back, well put up a brief post to let you know how that went, and then well be on our way back to the good, ol'' U.S. of A.

Hiding hole for one person...cover on top makes it undetectable


Air vent



Entrance to tunnel



American tank disabled by explosive device


Reprocessing spent bomb and shell casings for new ordinance


The sewing room for making uniforms




Going through connecting tunnel (enlarged 2 x for tourists)



Emergency operating theatre


Kitchen...note log used for fuel for fire under pot



Many yards away...venting smoke


Tapioca root...peeled, cooked, with sugar and ground peanuts for dipping. A meal this large was enough to keep a soldier going for a day



Mantrap...step on this disguised piece of trail and fall into pit with spikes


To end on a happier note...Our room in Siem Reap



The pool and courtyard lit at night...sweet dreams


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Location:Outskirts of Saigon

Traffic and Biking

On Tuesday we left the gentle, easy countryside and flew in to Ho Chi !inh City or Saigon as the city is still frequently referred to. This is Vietnam’s largest city. It is a fast-paced metropolis full of contrasts, with street vendors selling fruit and vegetables next to glitzy western-style bars and boutiques. Amazingly, the city’s history dates back only 300 years. In 1859 the city was captured by the French and became the capital of Cochin China. From 1956 until April 1975 it was the capital of the US-backed Republic of Vietnam. Today, Ho Chi Minh City is very much the heart of Vietnamese business and entrepreneurial activity. The French left their mark with some fine colonial-era buildings such as the Notre Dame Cathedral and the Central Post Office. An interesting and frenetic city to say the least. Contrary to what we've experienced thus far, there are many, many more cars. There are at least 4 lanes of traffic going in any direction, both sides of the street. Lines in the road are only rough suggestions, as are traffic lights. One lives by the horn here. It means: coming through, watch out, move over, turning, look out pedestrian, hello, and much more. When crossing streets as a pedestrian, one just walks slowly into the traffic. Don't stop, for heavens sake, don't turn back, just keep moving and things just seem to work out. This day we saw...The Notre Dame Cathedral and Old Post Office: Built between 1877 and 1883 this is one of the best examples of classical French colonial architecture. Remarkably every stone used in its creation was shipped from France to Vietnam. Her two forty metre towers, topped with iron spires, still dominate the city’s skyline. The Old Post Office is another example of French colonial architecture and is also the country’s largest post office.

The Reunification Palace: This is one of the most important buildings in the city. Here on April 30th 1975 the ‘American War’ officially ended when tank number 843 of the North Vietnamese Army crashed through the gates of what was, at the time the residence of the President of the Republic of Vietnam.
The War Remnants Museum: Formerly known as the Museum of American War Crimes, this is a poignant display of the futility of war. Some of the black and white photography in the ‘Requiem’ exhibit is particularly touching, dedicated to both foreign and Vietnamese journalists and photographers who perished during the conflict. The courtyard outside contains the spoils of war, namely rusting jets, tanks and cannons captured from the American military machine. This was a particularly difficult place to visit. The Requiem exhibit is truly touching and I''ll leave it at that for now.

This morning we were picked up at 7:15 A.m. We drive out of the bustling streets of Ho Chi Minh City to Vinh Long. We have 40 km cycle ride along a combination of well paved, sand and dirt paths. It was obvious that not many tourists come here biking. Little kids, old ladies and construction workers to name just a few ran to the side of the path to stare, smile, call out "Hello," and wave. Lovely. At the end of the briking, we have a 2 hour traditional boat trip from Cai Be to Vinh Long to experience river life. We went from the Cai Be floating market, to lunch on the Mekong Deltaand back to My Tho where our van is waiting to drive back to Ho Chi Minh city. The delta is a huge water way. We think about the young John Kerry and so many others who traveled these waterways. Amazing.

Tomorrow we check out at 9:00, visit the Cu Chi tunnels, and then in the early afternoon, we fly to Cambodia where we will stay in Siem Reap.

Hotel, Saigon



Post Office


Below our windows at night...a gambling boat on Saigon river


Saigon city street


War Remnants museum


Biking


Elephant fish for lunch


The Mekong Delta...forever and miles and miles of water




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Location:Saigon--Ho Chi MInh City

Cooking School

We are in a beautiful hotel about 20 klicks down the shoreline from China Beach. Outside we see and hear the sea. The breeze is constant and here we have found rest. Arriving Sunday afternoon, we entered our room and both fell onto the bed. We awoke about 2 hours later--each from a seeming blackout. It is very tiring going from place to place, just the two of us with a guide. No hiding. No time-outs. The upside is that we are learning a lot.

It is a bit daunting to look at the jungle-forrested mountains, the rivers, and rice fields and not think of what a terrifying time it must have been to be a U.S. soldier, fighting in a war against a people and a culture totally unknown and unfamiliar. And for what? The Vietnamese farmers wanted only to grow rice and their families. The Vietnamese politicos wanted their own country. The American government allowed neither to happen. We came over two mountain passes to get to Da Nang. At the top of one, our guide pointed to a mountain far distant. " There," he said, "lies part of the Ho Chi Minh trail. It runs 1,000 miles from Hanoi to Saigon, and totally? It is 10,000 miles."

"The first U.S. air strikes occur against the Ho Chi Minh trail. Throughout the war, the trail is heavily bombed by American jets with little actual success in halting the tremendous flow of soldiers and supplies from the North. 500 American jets will be lost attacking the trail. After each attack, bomb damage along the trail is repaired by female construction crews."

We pass through Da Nang with a side trip to China Beach. "March 8, 1965 - The first U.S. combat troops arrive in Vietnam as 3500 Marines land at China Beach to defend the American air base at Da Nang. They join 23,000 American military advisors already in Vietnam." (http://www.historyplace.com/unitedstates/vietnam/index-1965.html)

As we enter Hoi An, one of the most ancient cities in Vietnam, we turn our thoughts to resting and our cooking class. In the morning, after a good night's rest, our guide delivers us to the Red Bridge Restaurant and bids us good-day. We have a welcome drink--papaya smoothies. Soon we are together with six others and a guide takes us to the local market. Happily this is an informational tour. The ingredients for our class are already purchased. We learn about vegetables, spices, fish, chicken...amazing stuff. At the market we buy two small 1 cup coffee makers, and some spices. When we finish, our guide puts us on a boat and we are off to the cooking school.

Now, we are a group of about twenty. We end up at a beautiful spot along the river and have a tour of the herb garden. We then wash hands and are shown to a large outdoor room. There are bout 20 chairs, each with a clipboard and a pen. The clipboard contains menus and recipes. Flanking 3 sides of the room are 20 cooking stations, each with a one burner "stove" and whatever other materials we will need. In front of us is a demonstration table and over that is a mirror, lest we not be able to see the cook. The cook! His English is wonderful, his talents to sing about, and his sense of humor is amazing.

Menu:
1. Seafood salad with Vietnamese herbs served in half a pineapple...a warm-up demo to put us at ease. "cut pineapple in half...like this, trying not to cut finger...shocking to guests."
2. Fresh rice paper rolls of shrimp...nice demo of making rice paper wrappings (batter onto cotton cloth over boiling water...). Take off with bamboo stick, put on plate, add shrimp and herbs, roll like you roll joint...simple. Now you go to station and make...and we did and they were delicious.
3. Hoi An Pancakes...rice batter again...add to oil in pan...let sizzle, add shrimp and other veggies. Stir, stir so the batter becomes loose in pan, then flip like so (he flips the pancake with a nudge of the pan, we ohh, ahh--groan when we realize we're next)...it comes out OK, most of us use spatulas to flip.
4. Vietnamese Eggplant in clay pot...first chop all ingredients...then start with oil, garlic...do not burn garlic. People will not like...we use clay pot. Know why? Keeps food warm, but mostly, if you cook in regular pot it's ugly. No one will want to eat what you cook. Use clay pot...use regular pot your family will hate. Then family will starve. Better to use clay pot. So we did and it turned out...delicious.
5. Food Decoration...oh god! Just what we dreaded. Cook takes 1/2 cucumber...removes seeds, makes a series of angled cuts down cuke, then folds every other cut into a loop...beautiful. We are miserable at this. Knives are dull, disaster. The Aussies next to us do miracles just like teacher. Next? Peel tomato in one long, spiral strip...no look at pretty girl, no talk to friend, no answer phone as you peel tomato...now wrap peel back and see? He has a rose on top of a peeled tomato...needless to say, we are dunces. Pam gives up half way. I finish peeling with my peel in three pieces. I wind it up, tuck the ends Into one another, looks like flower after a hard rain.

After that we take our clay pots and go to the outdoor eating area where we have beer and several of the professionally prepared dishes we just cooked. Our clay pots are just great and we have several ideas for party where friends and family can make their own rice paper hors d'oeuvres...what fun it will be.

After we eat, a boat comes to get us. On the way back we stop and watch a man and a woman net fishing off of an old wooden boat. When we return to the ancient market, we walk to get a taxi...on the way we buy some lanterns. We get a taxi and come back to our hotel. In the bar we sit and have wine and talk about what great fun the day has been. Now we are resting some more. Our guide comes for us at 8:15 a.m. And we are off for Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon). Sweet dreams.

Da Nang helicopter base




Lantern market



Cooking school market tour (and below)


Drive through shopping







Crabs



Mackerel



Fabulous chef



Way to Go...nice clay pot


A flop...



How it SHOULD look


Cast you nets!



Basket boats


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Location:Hoi An

Kings, Monks, War, and Tombs

After breakfast (at 8AM), we begin with a trip to the ancient walled Citadel containing the former Imperial Palace. The Citadel was closely modeled along the lines of the Forbidden City in Beijing. Later take a cruise on the Perfume River to see Thien Mu pagoda. In the afternoon, set out on a tour of the Emperor's residence is a trip into the surrounding countryside to see the final resting place of the Emperors by visiting two of the most impressive royal tombs.

The imperial palace is being restored...a lot of building and refurbishing going on, a huge lot of buildings gone, and some of the original buildings still standing. In front is a moat and a three tiered structure. It was here that for 23 or so days the Viet Cong and Regular Vietnam army fought against each other for the right to raise their own flag (the communist flag flies uncontested today). The Viet Cong occupied this imperial Palace and apparently the Americans were reluctant to bomb because of the destruction it would cause to historical structures (apparently our government used to care about things like that). Finally, it was decided there was no other way to remove the Viet Cong and the bombs dropped. Even today the large stone walls contain bullet chips and holes, and in some places shrapnel remains embedded. We entered a room in which the Emperor abdicated in favor of the French in 1945. From then on, the Emperor was only a French puppet and did little to help his people who wanted to be free of French rule and live in an independent Vietnam. The Imperial grounds are enormous covering hundreds of acres. It is hard to imagine the labor and resources it took to construct this place...let alone maintain it. The Imperial Capitol was moved from the Hanoi area to Hue in the early 1800's. The reason was an auspicious building site (water in the form of a river, and several mountains) and the desire to place the Capital more nearly at the center of the country. Only the first four kings opposed foreign rule and worked for the people. The rest know towed to foreign influences and did very little for the people.

We went on to Thien Mu pagoda from the Imperial Palace. This is not truly a pagoda, but a stupa that hold the remains of holy people. It is also a monestary. We were fortunate enough to be there when two women and a child were receiving blessings. All of the monks (1 doing the main part of the blessing, two drumming and chanting, and one chanting and striking a large, brass bell/bowl) were dressed in saffron robes. The temple was very beautiful and peaceful, and we made a video and voice recording of the ceremony. We walked around the grounds as our guide told us a bit of the history of the place. "I have a surprise for you," he said and led us to a building that housed an old and rusting Mercedes. "What do you think this is?" he asked. Thinking a car in a monastery was odd we were silent. "This is the car belonging to the Most Venerable Thich Quang Duc. On June 11, 1963 he drove from this monastery to Saigon. Once in the city, he got out of his car, sat in the street in the lotus position, and his assistant poured gasoline over him, and lit him on fire. The protest was against the Diem regime's discrimination against and prosecution of Buddhist monks. This was the man who made headlines in the US news and was seen on televisions around the world. And here we were standing before his car. It was overwhelming. A while later I asked our guide if Vietnamese people still knew of Thich Nhat Hahn. Because I pronounced the name so badly, it took a minute for Quoc, our guide, to know who I was asking about. Then, "Oh Yes! He has come back to Vietnam many times. After the war he returned to Hue to hold a very large ceremony to honor the dead soldiers of both the Viet Cong and regular Vietnamese army. I liked the story as I knew that Thich Nhat Hahn had been part of the Vietnamese delegation to the Paris Peace talks...representing the hope of peace and bringing his country together. Later, because he refused to acknowledge the communist government and condemn others, he was banished from his homeland.


After those visits, we had a cruise on the river, lunch, and visits to two tombs of former kings. Before viviting the second tomb, we made a stop at a street vendor who was making joss (incense) sticks and traditional hats. Pam was invited to try her hand at making a joss stick from the fragrant cinnamon paste. It was pretty funny and we all had a good laugh. We also made amends bt buying several packs of joss sticks. Now we are resting at home...Pam is having a massage, and I am writing.

Traditional junk, HaLong Bay


Our junk...the govt mandated that all tourist boats be painted white...kind of loses the magic, we think.



Four years old. His Grandpa is the village leader and because Gpa was talking to us, this guy just unmoored the family boat and rowed across to see what was happening.



Our room at this beautiful Pilgrimage Inn in Hue




Bullet holes and shrapnel in wall of Imperial Palace


Pam making a joss stick. Oh, No!!!



The car of The Most Venerable Thich Quang Duc




Gates at one of the Imperial Tombs



Royal Unicorn



Looking through another gate



Confucian tomb guardian



Soldier guardian



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Location:Hue