Cold War Burning

Good evening from China Beach, near Danang.

I’m beginning to think of myself as a “single-digit midget.”

Okay, what does that mean, you ask? It was an old term some of us used when our one year tour-of-duty in Vietnam got to within less than ten days left in-country. We were down to nine days and counting. My three week research trip is counting down to four days left, as of tomorrow, and for some reason I really am anxious to get home. I hear on CNN and BBC of the Swine Flu outbreaks which only adds to my anxiety.

I had a good half-day city tour of Danang this morning, highlighted by a visit to the Cham Museum. I finished with a walk through the downtown market, and what an exciting place, but my suitcase was packed full, no more room for souvenirs, plus my cash was running low. “It’s time to come home,” I hear Nancy telling me. My tour guide today had great comments about Vietnam during the war, and today, but I will add later, once I have more time for writing. The photo below is of my Danang guide in front of the Cham Museum. He even carried my backpack for me.

I spent the afternoon taking in great views of Monkey Mountain, rolling clouds covered the hilltops from time to time. Danny, were there three rounded commo stations on the west edge of the hill? I also noticed a man-made flat-top area with a small tower, sort of in the center of the mountain top. Other than that, the entire mountain is covered in lush green. The Furama is probably a good 8-10 clicks away from the base of the mountain. I got a few good pictures during the day as I was sipping on a cold brew, and the cool sea breeze made for a quite pleasant afternoon. The below photo is of my transportation and driver for the day around Danang. I barely fit in the rickshaw.

Above photo is at the central market square, downtown Danang. You ladies would have loved the shoe display. I saw stores stocked to the ceiling with produce, from Saigon to Danang. My guide was in the mood to reminiscence on how bad the shopping was not long before, where long lines were the way of life. That was the way it was to buy food and everything else from Party controlled stores. His story reminded me of my long-ago trip to Hungary in 1969, where long lines could be seen everywhere.

This is another Deja Vu moment. I’m adding a bit, it is the morning of the 29th. It started raining here in Danang last night and has not stopped. It brought another remembrance of when I was heading home, July, 1971, when a typhoon kept me here in Danang a few extra days. I could not get down to Saigon as no planes were flying. Today, I fly by Air Vietnam to Hanoi, just in time for their Liberation - Reunification Day celebration. That would be so disheartening, to me, to have it rain on their parade.

Okay, my “short-timer’ calendar is down to three days.

More from Hanoi.