Ho Chi Minh City - War Remnants Museum

In Vietnam the war isn't referred to as the Vietnam War.  Obviously.  Our guide told us it's called 'The American War of Aggression'.  The previous day we'd been shown the Cu Chi Tunnels - a major part of the modern history of Vietnam, and although strictly speaking we were tourists or some may say 'sightseers' the significance of the tunnels meant they weren't just a 'sight'.  They were so much more than that.

After the fun of our tourist trip to the Mekong Delta that morning, we returned to Ho Chi Minh City and paid a very quick visit to the Post Office and Notre Dame.  The day was hot, and the children were flagging.  Our guide asked whether we wanted to see the 'War Remnants Museum', and said that if so we would have around and hour and a half before closing time. So after some discussion it was decided that Simon, R and myself would, and J and the children would return to the hotel.  This was the right decision.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/War_Remnants_Museum 

Coming to Vietnam from the UK at age 49, with a scant understanding of the recent history (I'd googled it a bit before we came), and the impressionistic 'Apocalypse Now' and 'The Deer Hunter' films as reference points, (weren't they documentaries?) plus 'Forrest Gump' clouding my mind, I had little idea of what I was letting myself in for.

Propaganda (from both sides) aside, the War Remnants Museum was a powerful, and in some respects moving, reminder (as with most wars) of the destruction of the country and the sacrifice and in many cases ongoing suffering of the people.

Bib-form poster saying 'U.S. withdraw Vietnam!' that Kaneko Tokuyashi wore in everyday commuting for eight years since 1965.

Michael Heck

the aftermath of the war

The Museum building comprised 3 floors - some displays of artefacts, weaponry, a section of sewer tunnel, and many information pieces.  The Agent Orange part of the Museum was especially unsettling: Reuters widerimage - Agent Orange   For me the most powerful part was housed on the second floor, and was a photographic exhibition compiled under the following:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Requiem-Photographers-Died-Vietnam-Indochina/dp/0679456570

No matter how you paint it, describe it, pitch it, sell it, dress it, explain it, draw it, sketch it, capture it. No matter that the essence is impossible to imagine unless you were there, or your parents, or your grandparents.  No matter that we teach history and never seem to learn from the mistakes made in the past.  No matter that as a species we seem doomed to fail to communicate, at epic cost, financial, personal and historical.  Again and again, over and over.  No matter.

The photographs bore witness to the horror.  Bore witness to the impact.  Bore witness to the tragedy. The photographers bore witness for us, lived the horror, captured the tragedy and recorded the impact.  There was no Photoshop to blur the images.  This was long before computer manipulation. And it took until the end of April 1975 for the war to end and Vietnam to be reunited.

We left the Museum in a more sombre mood, for our last night in Ho Chi Minh City.  As an introduction to Vietnam the experiences we had in and around Old Saigon were intense, both in terms of what and how much we saw, and how vibrant a nation can be.  Although we were overwhelmed by the heat, the traffic, the tropics and the people, overall our first impressions were very good.

Tomorrow, we fly one hour thirty minutes to the middle of the country, to Danang - and transfer to Hoi An, for a look at the ancient trading town and a cookery class.

But for now, it's late, and time for bed.

Night y'all.  Kat.