Dust and Dirt, Silk and Marble

I have returned from Hoi An to Saigon, (Ho Chi Minh City), and been here five days now. It is not as hot; there are breezes and occasional rain pours. My hotel is near a city landmark called Ben Thanh market, a huge, bustling indoor market crammed full of merchandise stalls. Each day, I wander out in the streets observing and photographing. I cannot walk one block without repeatedly being accosted by people pleading for my business or charity. A young man came up to me whose face had been mutilated. He was missing his chin, most of his nose, he could not close his mouth and his teeth were bared, both eyes were twisted by scarring, and burns mottled most of his flesh. I gave him some money, and had him stand for a picture. Immediately, an elderly matron of the nearby jewelry shop stormed over and scolded him for standing near her shop. She figured he frightened away clients. Then there is the young beggar woman who sits in the same spot each day selling packets of chewing gum. She cannot walk because of birth defects in her twisted legs, and hobbles around on her hands, lifting and dragging her legs. Yesterday, a little girl in ragged clothes touched my arm, looked up to me and motioned to her mouth that she was hungry. She walked an entire block tugging at me and motioning she was hungry and please give her some money. When I help, I realize that my offering is so infinitesimally small that it amounts to only a symbol of caring, because suffering is everywhere in the world and will always exist. When I am in the streets, I do not put up barriers, but mingle freely in the elements—the dust and dirt no less than with the silk and marble. What matters is the message that THE DREAM brings with it, and staying positive with the flow.



As for my idea of living in Vietnam, I now realize I would not be content. Utility is valued far above aesthetics, poverty is grinding, infrastructure is lacking and the language would be nearly impossible to master. I can deal with living simply, but need access to an abundance of art and philosophy.



I have posted two albums for viewing: Vietnam images, and Thailand images

Mister, what are you looking for?

Living in THE DREAM, where flux is ever present is wonderful, and also full of surprise. I should have known better than to show up at the Bangkok, Thailand, airport without a proper visa for entry into Vietnam. I was turned away. Fortunately, I went to the Vietnamese embassy in Bangkok, paid extra, and received an approved visa the same day—so I only stayed an extra night in Thailand. I forgot that Vietnam is one of the countries where a visa cannot be obtained at the airport upon arrival.


When I arrived in Saigon, I needed money, so went to an ATM, but forgot the exchange rate. I thought 20,000 would be a good amount, but the machine said I had to choose 50,000. I got the 50,000 and quickly discovered it was worth $2.85. Meanwhile, my bank charges $5.00 for foreign ATM transactions. I went back and got 1,000,000 dong; about $57.00.

Fortunately, I am okay with chaos in my life . . . otherwise by now I would be frazzled, especially after losing my iPhone in the motorcycle choked streets during a rickshaw ride. 

I am getting good photographs and find people generally open and warm, although as a foreigner, I am often seen as a wealthy person and invited to spend money; Vietnam is a country with one foot in poverty and the other climbing toward affluence. Sometimes in the crowded markets, women grab me forcibly and literally pull me into their stalls, saying, “Mister, what are you looking for?”

After Saigon, I arrived in Hoi An a few days ago, and it is lovely. If not for the heat and sweating so much, I would be out all day long exploring. Amazingly, this town has over 400 tailor shops. It is known internationally as a place to get clothes custom made for prices less than ordinary clothes cost elsewhere.

I am surprised how many people remember me from my visit here last year. I have already been motorcycling with a new friend who showed me around while I looked at houses and shops for rent. It is funny, but when I tell people I am an artist, they act surprised because I do not have long hair. Another thing is how often I am told, “You are a handsome man.” I like it, although maybe it is perhaps an often used compliment.

Beauty And Adventure

The day I left Thailand, its high court decided to make the prime minister step down, and banned him and his cronies from politics for five years. This is what the 50,000 protestors occupying the Bangkok airport wanted, and they celebrated, announcing the re-opening of normal activities. Meanwhile, I negotiated through the troublesome situation and managed to arrive in Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon), only a day late.
Immediately I began finding friends. The evening I arrived, two young security guards at my hotel caught sight of me in my safari hat and one called out to me with a big smile, saying “hey cowboy!” They beckoned me to sit between them and one put his hand on my knee while the other massaged my back and we talked. The next day I found myself on a motorcycle behind Hang, a woman who sells handmade items in street markets. THE DREAM brought us together to become friends. She has acted as my agent while I bought lacquered boxes, silk clothing and carved wooden objects for resale in the USA. Since then, we have spent hours each day together, shared meals, gone dancing several times and one day, she posed in traditional Vietnamese silk dresses while I photographed.
People for the most part are eager for contact, and at least in the cities, speak some English. Many people are street vendors or tourist industry employees and must communicate, at least enough to say, “Hey mister, what are you looking for?” Mostly, street stalls are worked by women and often the younger ones are quite forward. I have had my arm grabbed and been pulled into stalls by smiling ladies who want me to buy something or other.

Vietnam is one of the few socialistic nations on earth but you would not know it. A raging free market thrives everywhere. The Viatnamese currency is in dong. One dollar is worth 16,750 dong. So, at an atm machine I can be dispensed two milion dong at once. It is tricky, especialy since I do not see perfectly well without reading glasses, and several times I have given over a big note, not reading all the zero's. In a restaurant, when the bill was 40,000 dong, I gave a 500,000 dong note, thinking it was 50,000. Fortunately, the correct change came back, but I was surprised. This has happened more than once and now I am very careful.
It seems there is no lack of commerce or business. I have never been anywhere that had so many motorcycles in the streets. Actually, it is good since fuel is saved and streets are less crowded with cars.
My brother Wade lives in the Washington DC area with his Vietnamese wife of three years, Huong, and their one year old son. Today I am going from Saigon to Nha Trang, a city of 500,000, famous for beautiful beaches on a gorgeous bay. I will visit with Huong’s family, especially Trinh, a young woman who speaks fluent English.
I need to extend my visa which expires December 19. Vietnam is full of beauty and adventure, and I want more time here. Places in the north, like Hanoi, Hoi An, Halong Bay and Saba beckon.