What Are We Fighting For?

I have to say, the very idea of being in Vietnam—and north Vietnam to boot—is a trip in and of itself. Any American around my age can relate to the fact that our childhoods had, as an ever-present backdrop, the spectre of the Vietnam War. I don’t remember how old I was—but there was definitely a moment—when I realized that the Vietnam War had not in fact been going on since the beginning of time. Well, to be fair, it had been going on for as long as I could remember. Peace signs and POW bracelets, my parents chasing us out of the living room when the news came on with its graphic footage of the war and America's soldiers coming home in flag-draped coffins. Since we’ve been planning this trip, I keep remembering being in Sandy Rahuba’s house (age 7 or 8) in our neighborhood in Wolcott, Connecticut, listening to the radio:

And it’s one, two, three,
What are we fighting for?
Don’t ask me I don’t give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam;
And it’s five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well, there ain’t no time to wonder why
Whoopee! we’re all gonna die.

Weirdly enough, the thing I remember most from that day is wondering if the country’s name was pronounced “Viet Nam” (with a short “a,” as in the song) or “Viet Nahm”. (I know, no one is surprised that I wondered about that. Nerd.) And Sandy’s older brother said, “It doesn’t matter how you say it, it’s wrong.”

So, when, on a tour of Bai Tu Long Bay, a magical set of little islands off the coast of Vietnam, I heard someone whistling “Blowin’ inthe Wind,” I was intrigued. I’d heard it more than once, and thought, well, that’s an interesting song choice, given the location! The last time I heard it, we were on a little excursion to one of the caves on one of the islands, and I discovered the whistler was Tam, our cheerful tour guide. As I passed him on the way out of the cave, I began singing along, “The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind; the answer is blowin’ in the wind.” He was startled.

“You know that song?”

“Of course,” I said.

“It’s a beautiful song,” he said, and I agreed. But I noticed that he didn’t whistle it again. Tam was born in the '80s, more than a decade after the end of the war. Still, he must have known the association between the song and the war. I was a tad startled to realize that I was the only one on the tour who was both American and old enough to get it.  His own personal protest again shepherding western tourists around? Possibly. Even with a pretty easy group like ours, I’d think the tour guide job would wear on a person after a while. But maybe he just liked the song.

Anyway, Bai Tu Long Bay! An overnight boat excursion to Halong Bay is one of the top attractions of north Vietnam. A constellation of tall, skinny limestone islands popping out of clear green water, it’s really a sight to see. Its popularity, though, has made it very crowded. In the high season, sightseers awaken to a beautiful view while anchored in a parking lot of other tour boats. We opted for Bai Tu Long Bay, a little further out and a lot less crowded.

First there’s a long bus ride—four hours—from the old city in Hanoi, the buses stopping at various hotels and hostels to pick up the visitors. Our first guide was called Lam, and my goodness could he talk. Unfortunately, his was the kind of monotone voice that’s just so hard to keep listening to—we joked that we longed for the Silence of the Lam! About halfway through there was a break at a tourist stop with bathrooms and a small café. Mostly it was a place to buy arts and crafts made by people disabled in one way or another, many of whom were on the premises working on popular Vietnamese crafts: embroidered pictures, enamels, etc. We did end up buying a few things despite the rather obvious “captive audience” ploy. What can you do? These people are all very poor and need to make a living somehow. And the things we bought were nice, if pricier than they would have been in town: a small enamel picture and an embroidered table runner.

The port at Halong

After another two hours, we arrived in Halong, the city from which all the tour boats launch. Lam, it seemed, was in charge of the group who were spending two nights on the boat, so we got a new guide, Tam, who was very friendly and cheerful and spoke English with a French accent (though his French was actually less fluent than his English!). The couple who shared our table, Thierry and Corinne, were from France but had been living on Reunion Island (in the Indian Ocean off the coast
of Africa) for the past twenty years. There were a few other older couples from various parts of Europe, a younger couple from England, and three friendly American siblings from Ohio. The older brother, Frankie, was an experienced world traveler, and was taking his much younger brother (Nathan) and sister (Maria) on their first international adventure. What a great big brother! And no getting their feet wet with Canada or Europe; nope, they jumped headfirst into the exotic with a month-long trip to Southeast Asia!

The bay really is magical, as you can see from the photos. A little transport boat—like a floating bus—took everyone over to the main tour boat. After settling into our rooms, we all met in the dining room for lunch: papaya salad and a delicious green curry. Though that ended up being the best meal of the trip, the rest weren’t bad. And there was beer, of course! Halong brand as well as Hanoi brand. Both taste very much like American beers to my rather unschooled palate (as far as beers are concerned), but good and just right for the food.

After that, it was time to kayak to the beach! Back into the little boat for a short ride to the kayak dock. Those that didn’t care to kayak could ride in the little boat to the beach, but most of us were game. I’m not too proud to admit that Paul did most of the work (but not all!). And it was gorgeous moving through the limestone islands to a tiny private beach. Even better on the way back, as the sun was beginning to set. The light, as you can see below, was fantastic. A

That's Paul in the kayak

few hardy souls, including Paul and the two brothers, kayaked back as well. Maria and I joined the group on the little boat and enjoyed the sunset ride back to the main boat. After dinner, we all hung out on the top deck for the only real relaxation time, just hanging out. I would have loved more than that, just hanging around soaking in the scenery: it was nice, just being on the top deck under the stars, having a nightcap, swatting mosquitoes, and passing around the Deet!

The beds were comfortable and the rooms larger than I expected, with private baths.

The next day after breakfast, we got back in the little transport boat and headed to an island with a large cave. It was a nice excursion and there were some nice views from the island as well. After that, it was time to head to back to Halong. While the boat motored along, we were treated to a demonstration of decorative vegetable cutting. This guy is good! Then we all learned how to make Vietnamese spring rolls, crumbled tofu and shredded veggies wrapped up in rice paper. Paul and I had a bit of an advantage, since it's very much like rolling burritos or fajitas, except with a much thinner wrapping.

Still life with veggies, in progress

My only regret is that the time was so scheduled. Perhaps we should have done the two-night tour. But on this one, we met some really nice people—and avoided the (I’m sure) very nice but dread-voiced Lam! Still, Paul suggested renaming the tour from "Bai Tu Long" to  "Bye, Not Long Enough!"

In the cave