Author: Paul McEldowney

Blogpost 6: Leaving HCMC

It is difficult to believe that I am leaving HCMC. For the last few days I am there, I will have to sell my motorbike, a 1979 Honda Super Cub named Maude. Just last weekend, I was convinced that Maude was dead. I had driven Maude to a buddhist learning center which was approximately 10 km away from my apartment. Given Maude’s capricious and geriatric constitution, this meant a 30 minute drive filled with a general sense of uncertainty in the best way possible. The buddhist learning center was called Tu Viện Huệ Quang, and once we arrived, I ducked into the bookstore searching for copies of a philosophy book my grandfather (father’s father) had written when he was a teacher/poet/humanist in Vietnam. I found a stack of my grandfather’s book (which happened to be on Descartes and Eastern philosophy). The bookstore within the learning center was situated at the bottom floor of a narrow two-floor building. We did the obvious thing and climbed up the stairs to the second floor.

On the second floor there was a group of monks enjoying an afternoon tea. Our presence was confusing and ambiguous. In my much-improved Vietnamese, I explained to the monks my purpose for visiting–to purchase copies of my grandfather’s philosophy book. The monks then became incredibly hospitable and generous. We were asked to join their teatime, which featured a lovely display of teas, fruits, and candies. We were given a tour of the library, which was in a different building than the building which housed the tearoom and bookstore. The library was a real treat. Shelves and shelves of Vietnamese literature and non-fiction from various decades. Seeing this was inspirational and motivational. At this point, we were struck in a heavy downpour and accompanying deluge. Feeling like we were overstepping our stay, we decided to leave. However, Maude would not start. I tried every trick I had learned from riding her the past two months, but to no avail. In yet another expression of generosity, the monks at the learning center called us a cab and we temporarily abandoned Maude. I seriously thought this had signified the end for her.

Two days later, I return to the learning center to retrieve the Maude’s remains with the qualified hope that she would come back to life. But any kind of hope was overly optimistic. One of the monks saw my second sad attempt at resuscitating Maude. She called her brother who arrived with an improvised toolkit and a natural instinct for fixing motorbikes. He changed the spark plug and used one of the screws on his bike to fix mine; Maude was alive again and in a melodramatic way, so was I.

Blog post 5: National Day in Vietnam

September 2 is Vietnam’s National Day (Ngày Quốc Khánh).  National day celebrates Ho Chi Minh’s declaration of Vietnamese independence from Japanese and French powers following the defeat of the Japanese in World War II. I was curious about this holiday because I wanted to gauge its relative importance to the Vietnamese people. Does National Day in Vietnam have the same importance that independence day has in the US or that Bastille day has in France?

It is important to note that Ho Chi Minh explicitly cites the United States and French declaration of independence in his own declaration. The reason for this is not to pay tribute to Western powers as political or philosophical influences, but rather, in a somewhat dialectical (Marxian) fashion, show to Western colonial powers that according to the very principles of Western liberal democracy, Vietnam deserves self-governance, self-determination, and emancipation from those Western colonial powers.

In Ho Chi Minh City, National day is almost celebrated by everyone. Everyone displays the Vietnam flag in front of their homes and businesses. The day is surprisingly silent. But further into the afternoon and evening, Saigonese meet at Nguyen Hue Pedestrian street, a recently built walkway surrounded by luxury hotels and artificial greenery, capped by Saigon’s city hall, an ornate French colonial style building.

At around 8pm, I drive my motorbike with my partner to Nguyen Hue Street. We noticed that, on the way, the streets were eerily empty. As we approach Nguyen Hue, we found ourselves packed like sardines in a sea of motorbikes. It is overwhelming, but we follow the stream of eager, impatient, but spirited Saigonese. At some point, traffic comes to a full halt. We are struck one street over from Nguyen Hue, able to see some of the spectacle through an alley peeking into celebration. Soon thereafter, fireworks go off all around us. People begin to abandon their bikes to take pictures of the fireworks, of themselves, and of themselves with the fireworks.

We decide to find ditch our motorbike at a parking lot nearby, and walk over to Nguyen Hue to catch the tail end of the celebration. Even though we are on foot, we remain stuck in a seemingly never-ending sea of motorbike traffic. At times, it seemed like the only way to get to Nguyen Hue was to climb over or walk on top of the motorbikes. But after some sneaky pedestrian maneuvering, we manage to make it to Nguyen Hue. The firework show had ended and most of the people celebrating were on our way out. We decided to make the most of it by finding a food stall to get something to eat. We find a stand selling Bo La Lot sandwiches. Bo La Lot is a kind of meatball ground with various herbs and spices and wrapped in betel leaves. Unfortunately, I indigestion hits me immediately soon thereafter, and I experience bathroom issues for about a week after.

Blogpost 4: Queer Slang

Vietnam has a complicated relationship with queer (more generally LGBT, etc) expression and (counter) culture. Generally speaking, modes of gender stratification are pervasive throughout Vietnamese culture and society. More specifically, what might be called “traditional gender norms” (based on a binary notion of gender and sex) are explicitly and implicitly enforced and internalized in the very real practical lives of Vietnamese people on a day to day basis. Women are expected to perform domestic duties that translate into emotional stability for their families; men are expected to develop careers that translate into financial stability for their families.

Any form of queer expression interests me because they reveal how notions of “normal behavior” function inasmuch as how such notions breakdown.  Slang best reveals the cracks and dynamism of language, which itself is that which shapes and reflects the social world in which we are always immersed. I asked four different people about certain slang that I had learned about. They are Tuoi (28, F), Thao (41, F), Minh (26, M), and Phat (49, M).

  1.  “Banh beo” is a famous Vietnamese dish which features flat gelatinous rice cakes  topped with green onions and ground roasted pork and shrimp. Historically, it is is slang word used as a pejorative against women. It typically highlights “femme” characteristics of a person, but in a negative light. More recently, “banh beo” has been reclaimed by gay Vietnamese men to describe gay “femme” men.

Question: What do you think about the word “banh beo” as slang?

Tuoi: (laughs)  It is basically used to say someone is dumb or simple. The person is not really interesting. It is used as an insult to someone else. I don’t use the word.

Thao: That is a funny word. It means the person is not smart even though maybe she is pretty. I would not call another man “banh beo”.

Minh: (laughs) It is used quite a lot to describe women. I have never heard it used for a guy, but I don’t have any gay friends.

Phat: It is a generic word used for all women. Sometimes it has a negative meaning but it depends on how you use it.

2.  “Choi o moi” literally means “to play at being gay”. It is used to describe two queer people who are more than “just friends”.

Tuoi: I have heard this only rarely. It is quite common for this phrase to describe same sex relationships.

Thao: I do not know what this means. “O moi” is a name of a tree.

Minh: It is sometimes used to describe gay people. Maybe it is only used by the younger generation.

Phat: I don’t know what this means.

Blogpost 3: Task 6

 

I interviewed three local residents of Ho Chi Minh City to get an idea of what the general perception of the United States is in Vietnam. Out of safety and ethical concerns, I won’t mention their names but use one-letter pseudonyms: A (28 year old woman) B (32 year old man) C (29 year old woman).

Like many places in the world,  the people of Vietnam do not really have a nuanced understanding of the United States and its history. Thus, their opinions and thoughts of the US are very broad. Not surprisingly,  A,B, C are all fascinated by President Donald Trump.

Upon being asked their general opinion of the US, each person I interviewed brought up Trump almost immediately and did so with hearty laughter.  The general perception of Trump seems to not be positive. They are unable to believe that someone like Trump could be elected, especially because of how much he contrasts with his predecessor former President Barack Obama who my interviewers. I should note that most Vietnamese have an extremely positive view of Obama. As it is well-known, Obama was a guest on Anthony Bourdain’s travel show <<No Reservations>>; instead of eating at a palace separated off from common folk, the Obama and Bourdain ate a typical family owned restaurant in Hanoi among common folk. A, B, C express doubts over the intelligence, temperament, and political aptitude of Trump. Otherwise, A, B, C share a desire to visit the United States–they all share the idea that the United States is a wonderful place to visit and live.  As an unmarried Vietnamese national, it is extremely difficult to visit the United States as a tourist. You need a visa, which is expensive and not easily obtainable. A, B, and C all have family in the United States.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blog post 2: 18 days in HCMC (Task 5)

The cuisine of Ho Chi Minh city (HCMC) is a confluence of various Vietnamese (e.g., northern and central Vietnam) and international influences (e.g., Thailand, Korea, France, and Japan). The street food embodies all of these influences; it also reveals the material conditions that form the backbone of culinary culture in HCMC, and Vietnam in general. Street food, which is served out of carts, stalls, motorcycles, is food for the people. It is affordable, delicious, simple, and focused.

My favorite street food in HCMC is Bot Chien, a rice-cake omelette cooked in a cauldron-like tried-and-true searing-hot wok. Bot Chien is topped off with various pickled vegetables and soybean based sauce. This dish is very balanced; the rice-and-egg base lives in harmony with its vinegar-y sweet-and-sour vegetable topping.

This dish is culturally important because it is food for the working class. The dish costs less than a dollar typically. Any attempt to “restaurant-ize” this dish, a process which often occurs in the states, is conceptually untenable and culturally abhorrent. The chef at the particular bot chien stand I frequent knows that anyone trying to place bot chien next to cloth napkins is making a fool of themselves. Part and parcel to its popularity is the fact that it is cooked in a wok that represents labor itself.

Blog post 1: First day in HCMC

The time difference between South Bend and Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC) is 12 hours; and in almost every other sense, the difference between South Bend and HCMC is night and day. Whereas South Bend exists in a static state of permanent inertia, HCMC is a constant flow of organized chaos, a never-ending labyrinthic ouroboros of ebb and flow.

The life of a city is often best reflected by and demonstrated through how its people get around. People in HCMC get around via the xe máy (motorbike, Vespa-sized).According to my taxi driver, Cuong, the xe máy captures the essence not just of HCMC, but of Vietnam in general. It is difficult to articulate the feeling of finding yourself sitting in a taxi on one of HCMC’s busiest streets surrounded by a sea of xe máy (imagine, further, having just flown for 20 hours from O’hare to Tân Sơn Nhất int’l airport).

A place is not just the sum of its buildings and roads but the myriad relationships that people have with those material conditions. To me, the xe máy is special because it makes these relationships visible and brings them to the fore.  And since it is always rush hour in HCMC, the xe máy is a constant reminder to always look both ways before crossing.