Safiya came into British East Africa as part of a deal with two hundred head of Somalian Boran cattle. Barely two years old, an irresistible imp who couldn’t sit still. Mother unknown! Father unknown! A better life? Maybe? Niel, Sandra and her big brother Joe of Aintree Farm in the white highlands of Aberdare adored her. She grew up on the highveld, free, happy and loved.
Sandra’s early death, Niel’s failing health, foot and mouth, armyworms and then the terror of the Mau Mau changed her happiness forever. Joe took care of it, but he wasn’t safe, marrying John was the best option but Robert stole her heart!
You speak French, Uncle Sam needs people like you! Ludovic Connod wasn’t ready to fall in love, but he did. Corsica and it’s mysteries. France and it’s secret resistance. The Vichy, the Occupied Zone where mother lived in her elegant apartment using her ‘green joy’ to remain in her past. The OSS. The CIA and it’s shady psychotic substance activities. Berlin, it’s grey cold rain and world of deceptions. Saigon, the ‘Paris of the East’, captivating and fascinating, dragging in people who changed the world. Not because they planned to but because they followed their feelings, good and bad. Silvester the dog and Dennis the Donkey! His father would have loved them. But now he’d had enough!
Don’t take this stuff too seriously, it’s just the ramblings of an old bloke! (only for viewers of a certain age)
Yu gotta be young to clean yu bike! To stoop, to squat, to brush, to wipe!
Can’t wait to be older and buy a car
To wash and polish and admire from afar
She’s just had a de-coke, runs just fine, I’ve adjusted the tappets and re-set the time. Lie on the floor and look at the sills, check the exhaust, there’s no hole to fill. New points, new plugs, what more can I say. five hundred quid to drive away!
I’d keep her forever but time moves on! It’s a journey, a hike but yu gotta be young to clean yu bike
I have stolen this place, for now it has gone, once it was cute, but people moved on. The rickety chairs and sloping wood tables, all fine by me, with my meandering thoughts, but not for you and your Trip-Advisor noughts.
Why do you come here and glance at the view, for a moment, a second, a minute or two. Before it calls like an admonishing mum. look at me! Stare at me, give me your thumb. To scroll to, to touch, to boast, to cry, feed me your energy but please keep me dry.
I’m your weapon, your shield, I am what you are. I’m busy, go away, I’m important, I’m loved, can’t you see! Can’t you see.
Oh yes! How lovely, wait just a mo! Take my picture so that I can show. To the world, to my world but especially to Jane. Her husbands a loser, they live down the lane.
Can we go now, I’m bored, there’s only one waiter and he’s got a hair lip. the eggs were overdone, darling don’t give a tip.
Those dogs are a nuisance, begging for scraps licking and sniffing, the wi-fi is rubbish, no google maps.
Shall we move on dear? I don’t feel at ease. My money, the passports, my jewelry ‘et al’
Readers may be advised to obtain a cursory knowledge from a source such as Wikipedia of the lives of T. E. Lawrence and G M L Bell. C.H. M. Doughty-Wylie VC. and Mrs. L. O. Doughty-Wylie
Evelyn Smith was trapped. Her prison was a Victorian terraced house in a Brewery Town married to Stan, a petty thief who was too smart to get caught. He thought more of his pigeons than her, but required her to starch, his shirts, clean his shoes and be available every night he wasn’t drunk. He didn’t really care about Primrose, or Sally, he wasn’t a ‘family man’.
The manuscript lived in the pantry, it took her to other worlds, made her realise there were men who dreamed, ‘all men dream, but not equally’. Made her want to look upon a land, a vista where there was nothing of mankind. He had, she wanted to.
She joined the library, it was a road to dreams, to a different life, after Dad had died Mom had pulled her out of school to help at home with the washing. She’d loved school, was always top of the class, she never forgave Mom but now she had another chance. London, Constantinople, Anatolia, Iraq and the deserts but there was a price. Sally!
Synopsis – Black Nothing.(Sequel to ‘Subject to Status’ Kindle ref B004JHYMOU) A murder at sea. A witness no one believes. A man trapped in a conspiracy that could destroy him. 1966, South China Sea. A Royal Navy sailor vanishes during the night watch. Officially, it’s ruled an accident. But one man swears he saw the truth — and it was murder. Decades later, that buried secret resurfaces when Thomas “Taffy” Underhill, a homeless drunk and former sailor, blurts out his story to the police. His testimony drags Leonard Joel, a quiet Welsh farmer with a hidden past in the Navy, into a nightmare of wrongful imprisonment, government cover-ups, and MI5 manipulation. Behind the prison walls, Joel struggles to survive while shadowy forces pull him deeper into a web of espionage, Cold War secrets, and covert missions stretching from Britain to Vietnam and Nepal. Caught between his love for Janey, the only woman who believes in him, and the ruthless demands of intelligence handlers, Joel must face the question: how far will a man go when his freedom, his family, and his very identity are on the line? Black Nothing 3 is a gritty British crime thriller that blends murder mystery, police procedural detail, and Cold War espionage into a tense, unflinching story of loyalty, betrayal, and survival. Fans of John le Carré, Ian Rankin, and Mick Herron will feel right at home.
A fictional novel set against the juxtaposed backgrounds of life on the lower deck of British aircraft carrier in the 1960’s and the emerging new age eco minded pot smoking hippy culture. The galvanizing catalyst is the UK defense establishment. At that time, ruthlessly creating people with no recorded identity to carry out their bidding. Deliberately targeting the vulnerable vacuum of the ‘flower power’ era. Ambitious ruthless patriotic ‘Civil Servants’ eagerly exceed the boundaries of state involvement. Using the police and the Criminal Justice System as a tool of coercion they create expendable people. Persons with no recorded identity who could be threatened and forced to carry out illegal government tasks under the shadow of their own unnoticed disappearance should they refuse. Leonard Flower Welham a young sailor drawn by the glamour and adventure of the Fleet Air Arm. Roaring powerful dangerous flying machines. Alien and foreign places and cultures. Grey unstoppable warships that policed the world’s oceans and offered a safe home. A voyage of discovery as he changed from a boy to a man. In the mid sixties he is drafted to join HMS Bulwark. The ship is undergoing a refit in Plymouth dockyard. He is confronted with its sheer magnitude and majestic presence. Climbing aboard up the steep gangway he enters a special world of smells, sensations, sights, sounds and the beginning of the trip of his life. Joel. Born in a damp Yurt in a green wet valley in Mid-Wales to a thin depressed hippy eternally searching for her own happiness. Her low self esteem restricting her to abusive relationships leading to her coerced insemination and a boy child. He was to grow to be the only thing of true value in her life. Joel spends his happy free childhood unfettered by the expectations of school and conventional society. Accepting his alternative life as nothing unusual he is taught by his own curiosity and associations with people who knew the answers to his questions and who could teach him what he needed to know. The lives of the two young men come together. Life becomes familiar and normal. Friendships develop, fun is shared and enjoyed. The eastern world is paraded before them to be dipped into and experienced whilst having the safety of a floating ‘England’ to run back to. All this time Joel cannot escape the lurking incredible officialdom. Their awful instruction and the dislike for himself and his own weak compliance.
God it was boring! He was a cream man, in a cream and grey office, if he stood against the wall he was invisible. ‘I’m the invisible man, incredible how you can, see right through me!’ But there were no Freddie Mercury frantic drums for Reg Moorcroft. Coffee four times a day, that was it. A piece of cake if it was someone’s birthday!
God it was exciting, dark hard blue metal, beautiful old chequered wood, powerful, life changing! But changes meant risk, excitement meant danger, the power of life and death came in a package labelled ‘fear.’ Still it was better than washing the car and cutting the lawn. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. He had to make amends, he couldn’t continue his life in front of a computer even if he did some good, he just felt like an on/off switch that could read. Get out now Reg, change your life, ‘Got to leave you all behind and face the truth!’
The Story Book – The Magic Phone. Stan and ‘Arry’ have a chance to talk about their mistakes in life, set records straight and say ‘Sorry’. What could possibly go wrong? The Contest. Brass Bands and a peaceful domestic life with Isabella just don’t go together. Tim is unambitious in a macho world and just wants a quiet life. But what about Jenny? The Great Pretender. This can’t be true! Or can it? The creation of a world acclaimed classic by the biggest band of the seventies or a nightmare? Waiting. What do men think about when women are shopping? TRANZYSN. ‘A change is gonna come but still everything remains the same.’ All Rudyard Millard’s problems can be solved by money. Well not actually ‘money’ folk stopped using that a long time ago. The Gun. Reg Moorcroft is safe and reliable. His world is one of Magnolia Emulsion and grey gloss paint. Familiar holidays to France, mowing the lawn and washing the garage door. And then–.
If someone sneezes, will it change the world? Maybe, possibly, perhaps. Are there no rules if you’re rich? What’s ‘The Law’? They’re just some rules made by some men. Vodka, champagne, Paracetamol, tramadol, Benzo’s, Amphets anything to make it be quiet. Anything, it doesn’t matter what it is. Mother will give it to me, she always does. Grissholme De Montry Burlingham. lockers, Eton, Cambridge, then what? Somewhere safe for his brilliant mind.
They were the business! The best! The Boys! Brendon and Niall were Hereford Drug Squad, they always won. For one of them it didn’t matter what he did. He searched for elusive failure, wanted punishment, deserved and needed condemnation. For the other, breaking the rules was OK as long as you enjoyed it, didn’t get caught, and didn’t hurt anybody. Bermuda, marriage, trains, Thailand, Hong Kong, New York, divorce, death, several deaths, Ecuador, Guatemala, Love, Drugs, Love, Memories, Love and two dogs. Did I mention Love! Oh! And money.
Terry was bigger, fitter, harder, stronger than all those around him, why should he stay locked up?Richard was a mild murderer, he had a strategy for prison. Keep quiet, don’t rock the boat, smile and do as you were told and you’d be out on your first parole board. For both of them time inside was time wasted. Irreplaceable and valuable . Terry had a plan, Richard was his cell mate, Terry’s plan needed two people. Richard was the man. But what about love? Happy Christmas!
February in Wales just has to be bleak and wet, so what do you do after work? Who’s the group, who’s the singer? What’s the song? Of course it’s fiction. Or is it? Can you love a cat that much? When it’s cocaine and ‘Stoli’ between meals what’s real?
Life was simple, if somewhat solitary for Tom. It consisted of his work at the V&A and Mom and Dad. They didn’t really like him living and working in London, they didn’t really like it when he passed the eleven plus and went to the Grammar. They didn’t understand what a ‘first’ from Oxford meant, but he went back home as much as possible. Of course they died, but not really, they’d just moved on to a better place he could still chat to them.
Isobelle an intern at work was lovely, full of life and fun but very young, then there was Barbara, not a pin up girl but what a mind! What a voice! Also an intern from the Ashmolean they were close, he’d even been to her parents for Sunday lunch. Mom liked the sound of Barbara.
Tom’s boss was the world renowned Professor Andrew Hogartty. He’d do anything Andrew asked him to do including spending some years in Baghdad cataloguing all the recovered artefacts stolen during the two wars. Andrew really wanted to get his hands on ‘The Mask of Warka’ but at the moment it was missing.
Monique was French, she worked for the Louvre and was his work partner at the National Museum of Iraq. Mom wasn’t keen on foreigners.
Zerzura the white city in a lost oasis inhabited by fair skinned people with straight swords and guarded by black giants was a myth. Or was it?
When you’re the cousin of the Emperor of Japan. A Royal Prince of the Chrysanthemum Throne, no one looks into your eyes. No one smiles at your face. When your word kills thousands of people. It is a lonely place. Japan, China, The Philippines, South east Asia in the thirties and forties. All for gold, nothing else. The red and gold Chrysanthemum emblem on his chest marked him as the relative of a living God. But Prince Takeda was a man. he needed love, companionship and friendship as much as the naive innocent farm boy that brought his water and everything else. When you try to save thousands of lives and fail. When the flower dies and you become mortal. When you love but cannot have—. Did I mention love?
When you’ve been a policeman long enough to know that ‘it’s not working’ for many men over thirty trapped by drugs, crime, and prison. What do you do? The answer for PC Jack Carter, as he slid rapidly towards his retirement, was to create and run a small residential support home for guys who wanted help. wanted change, but couldn’t do it on their own. As a registered charity it needed trustees. Jack assumed that all trustees were good honest people but if they’re not! What do you do? When someone steals what you’ve created. When someone poisons the mind of your best friend. What do you do?
Why didn’t he just say no to him? Ludo Connod lived in Paris with his family and old dog, happily approaching forty. He’d done enough, had enough. Why on earth was he flying to America?
It was the money, that was it, secure his pension forever, that was it. Sense of patriotic duty. That was really it. He wasn’t even American, he was French, only his fathers genes were American.
“The Blight came from the Almighty, the famine from The English. Eddy Murtagh was a Ribbonman, all his folks wanted was a fair deal and enough land to grow food, but no, he took it all away, sent his bully boys and henchmen to get them out, burn them out, kill them if necessary. Eddy was a Navvie, building railways on the mainland, tough, strong and fearless, except for Lillian. He’d fix it. He did fix it. Then he had to leave.
She was a waitress in Libya, a refugee from Somalia sending money back home to keep her loved ones alive. She loved being with him. He bought her flowers. Can hate be inherited? How many generations can it fester? Hidden in the genes and DNA.
For many of us, images of rice paddies and conical hats have grown insipid as a consequence of overuse. Yet in the following collection, French photographer Joseph Gobin trains his lens on what’s often unobserved — an artist, caked in plaster, creates a mold of himself just as Gobin forms his own image of the young man; a couple watch a film in the shade of their umbrella, the most intimate of theaters; in a school playground, onlookers appear like film directors while enjoying the subtle tension of a volleyball tournament.
As Ansel Adams once said, even in a landscape photo “there are always two people: the photographer and the viewer.” In Gobin’s images, his gaze focuses on endearing or touching aspects of Vietnamese culture with affection, a caring antithesis to the likes of Vietnamese Cursed Image.
Stripped of visual clichés and taken on an atypical camera, the images gain a tender vitality and quirky appreciation for contemporary Vietnam. Not all were taken in the capital, but all cherish the earnestness of Vietnam. And yes, that includes the swan boats in Vinhomes Riverside.
Take a look below:
A couple watches a laptop video on the street, beneath an umbrella.
Butchering a pig while it’s still drooped over a Honda Dream. Also known as “slow-smoking meat.”
A contemporary artist makes a mold of his body for an upcoming exhibition.
Motorbike traffic couples in the French Quarter.
Ladies dressed in áo dài stay in the shade.
An archetypal Hanoian street ninja with long-sleeved top, sunglasses and mask for camouflage.
For these discarded fans, an occasional breeze gently spinning their blades is the only reminder of their former life.
Spectators watch a volleyball tournament in Vũ Yên Village in a scene reminiscent of a film set.
The worst-ever attempt at hiding a motorbike? Photo taken in Hòa Bình Province.
Waiting to catch a train back to Hanoi from Đà Nẵng.
A gang of brothers in the far north.
Traditional style meets modernism at Pà Cò Market.
Waiting.
Boris Zuliani creating images using 50×50 wet plates between Da Nang and Hoi An.
A swan boat lingers beside the grandiloquence of a Vinhomes Riverside villa.
You speak French, Uncle Sam needs people like you! Ludovic Connod wasn’t ready to fall in love, but he did. Corsica and it’s mysteries. France and it’s secret resistance. The Vichy, the Occupied Zone where mother lived in her elegant apartment using her ‘green joy’ to remain in her past. The OSS. The CIA and it’s shady psychotic substance activities. Berlin, it’s grey cold rain and world of deceptions. Saigon, the ‘Paris of the East’, captivating and fascinating, dragging in people who changed the world. Not because they planned to but because they followed their feelings, good and bad. Silvester the dog and Dennis the Donkey! His father would have loved them. But now he’d had enough!
Behind the walls of wealth and privilege, darkness waits. At Luggala, an estate of inherited grandeur, Calypso Fortnum-Guinness drowns her loneliness in whisky and fading memories. Her husband has vanished in a jet that never returned, her lover has taken his own life, and her son is raised not for her love, but for the family’s legacy. Surrounded by scheming relatives and suffocated by expectation, she clings to the past—even as her future slips away. Meanwhile, Joel Leonard Flower, drifting between the shadowy reaches of addiction and the grip of government operatives, fights to keep control of his own identity. Betrayed, manipulated, and used, he finds himself locked inside the corridors of power and rehabilitation, where every choice comes with a price. In My White Room is a haunting tale of love and betrayal, wealth and ruin, addiction and survival. For readers who savor literary fiction steeped in psychological depth, family secrets, and the quiet violence of human frailty, this novel offers a story as intoxicating as it is unforgettable.
It was behind him, he’d got away with it. He’d do it again if he had to. Now he was on the up, out of the street into the skies. Of course Jonny needed some help, they didn’t show you how to use a fish knife or a salad fork at his school, it was more flick knives and fags. Mum wasn’t coping well without dad so he had to make sure she was OK. Then life started getting difficult. Phill got cancer, he confessed and Harry got out of gaol. The Police didn’t want egg on their face so they had to do some digging to cover their backs. Not too much but once you open that bottle, the genie pops out and doesn’t want to go back in. He might have to do it again.
The Ten Bob Notes by John Arthur Cooper is a novel set in the 1950s, centered around a part-time dance band in the industrial region of Black Country, England. The story follows the lives of the band members, who come from various backgrounds and face personal struggles.
The band, made up of characters like Frankie, a “Ted” with a penchant for risky dealings, and Syd, a clarinet player mourning his lost soulmate, reflects a spectrum of post-war working-class life. As the band performs old-time dance music, their individual stories unfold, showing how music offers them an escape from the gritty realities of industrial life. There’s a focus on each character’s flaws and aspirations, from Jack’s obsession with his motorbike to Harry’s battle with alcohol.
The novel explores the way the characters’ lives intertwine with the backdrop of the changing cultural landscape in Britain, marked by the lingering effects of the industrial revolution.
Joel is happily living with Janey on her farm in Mid-Wales when his unconventional past careers’ back into his life. His mother is on the verge of death when he’s arrested. Incarceration in prison exposes him to a new level of society, new people and new habits that drastically change his life. His quandary is when, and to whom should he disclose the circumstances of his predicament. He chooses badly and coupled with the untimely intervention of fate, remains in prison. Eventually he’s removed and given an illusion of freedom as Her Majesty’s Government makes him an offer he can’t refuse. His task sees him travel to Nepal and Vietnam. One location leading to the other as dilemmas multiply into a personal morass of conflicting feelings, emotions and necessities.The dry dust of Kathmandu reflected against the soaking humidity of the Mekong Delta. Extreme poverty reflected by wealth and privilege. Bizarre surreal experiences that take him to see sights few people have ever seen. Sadhu’s and burning bodies. High peaks. Snake swallowing drum majors at funeral ceremonies. It was as if death surrounded him. Experiences and new perceptions of life impacted strongly on him. Making his simplistic mission anything but! New people entered his life. All were not what he expected. His return home was hopeful, supported by his ‘payment’ Joel hopes for a conventional life. One more simple task in England and his life could resume its uneventful course. The green bleakness of the Marches comforts him as mundane normal people reappear in his life. The rattle of trains. The lilting Welsh voices ease him back home. Once home he finds again that nothing is simple as he descends into a whirlwind downward spiral triggered by awful events. Joel searches and ponders how anyone who is good can do so many bad things. Is there anyone he can truly rely on?
A fictional novel set against the backgrounds of life on the lower deck of British aircraft carrier in the 1960’s and the emerging new age eco minded pot smoking hippy culture. The galvanizing catalyst is the UK defense establishment. At that time, ruthlessly creating people with no recorded identity to carry out their bidding. Deliberately targeting the vulnerable vacuum of the ‘flower power’ era. Ambitious ruthless patriotic ‘Civil Servants’ eagerly exceed the boundaries of state involvement. Using the police and the Criminal Justice System as a tool of coercion they create expendable people. Persons with no recorded identity who could be threatened and forced to carry out illegal government tasks under the shadow of their own unnoticed disappearance should they refuse. Leonard Flower Welham a young sailor drawn by the glamour and adventure of the Fleet Air Arm. Roaring powerful dangerous flying machines. Alien and foreign places and cultures. Grey unstoppable warships that policed the world’s oceans and offered a safe home. A voyage of discovery as he changed from a boy to a man. In the mid-sixties he is drafted to join HMS Bulwark. The ship is undergoing a refit in Plymouth dockyard. He is confronted with its sheer magnitude and majestic presence. Climbing aboard up the steep gangway he enters a special world of smells, sensations, sights, sounds and the beginning of the trip of his life. Joel. Born in a damp Yurt in a green wet valley in Mid-Wales to a thin depressed hippy eternally searching for her own happiness. Her low self-esteem restricting her to abusive relationships leading to her coerced insemination and a boy child. He was to grow to be the only thing of true value in her life. Joel spends his happy free childhood unfettered by the expectations of school and conventional society. Accepting his alternative life as nothing unusual he is taught by his own curiosity and associations with people who knew the answers to his questions and who could teach him what he needed to know. The lives of the two young men come together. Life becomes familiar and normal. Friendships develop, fun is shared and enjoyed. The eastern world is paraded before them to be dipped into and experienced whilst having the safety of a floating ‘England’ to run back to. All this time Joel cannot escape the lurking incredible officialdom. Their awful instruction and the dislike for himself and his own weak compliance.
Phew! Just in time for Christmas! “The Garage” It was no man’s land. A place where rural England dripped quietly into the welcoming soft green folds of Wales. A place where community and authority were symbiotic in achieving the tranquil times of life. Births, deaths, marriages, love affairs, defeats and victories came and went with the reliable seasons. Peace was only shattered by intruders, outsiders who didn’t understand how things worked and Irish Travellers who fully understood how things worked. Boring into society like a maggot, sucking out nutrition before moving on, giving nothing back. The Doyle family were regular maggots, knocking for Antiques, selling dodgy three piece suites, resurfacing drives that didn’t need it and repairing roofs that weren’t broken, leaving bewildered old people, old furniture and the smell of toilets behind them wherever they went. Their culture was closed, no one moved outside it. Prendergast Price ran the old garage in the centre of the village. He fixed everything for everyone, for a bit of cash of course. His nephew Jerome was the local Bobby, between them they oiled the wheels of Evenchurch and it’s surrounds. Jerome wasn’t married but he might as well have been, Damsel was the only woman he would ever love and she existed in another world. They tried to pair him up, marry him off all the time but he was a lost cause. Uncle Pren became a Magistrate, a Justice of the Peace, a pillar of Society but they killed his dogs Andy and Flo. He didn’t like that.
A sturdy, stately vehicle roamed Vietnam’s city streets and rural roads not too long ago.
Originally designed in the late 1940s and re-branded as the Renault Goélette in 1959, this durable model of light van was conceived with the support of the French Ministry of Industrial Production for various transport purposes following World War 2.
The French Renault motor company was founded in 1899 and closely supported France’s many military exploits over the years including colonial expansions. Not surprisingly, many of the vehicles found their way to Vietnam, where they found new civilian use following reunification. As these photos featured on RedsVN and taken from Flickr user Ian Lynas reveal, people found them to be particularly useful for moving citizens and goods on regular routes.
A Renault Goélette parked at the bus station in Huế in 1996.
In France, the Renault Goélette were officially replaced by an alternate line of larger light trucks in May 1965. They remained in use in southern Vietnam well into the 1990s however. You are very unlikely to catch sight of one here today, but they remain popular amongst a niche group of global collectors.
A really nice 1950’s Peugeot
Have a peek at the dependable transports captured in 1996 below:
Painted white and red, this Renault Goélette cruises along the Đà Nẵng–Vĩnh Điện route.
A man watches this one pass on the Đà Nẵng–Hội An route.
A really nice VW Kharman Ghia
The model seems noticeably out of place compared to the other larger buses used at the time.
The strong, flat roof made it ideal for stacking personal goods, products, and commercial goods.
A secret Camaro SS
Depending on the specific version, the Renault Goélettes could run on gas or oil.
Some of the regular routes offered pretty stunning scenes of the countryside.
As the open doors and windows of this loaded van reveal, they were not air-conditioned.
When you really wanted a LandRover but the bank manager / computer says NO!
[Top image features a van used for a route running in from Huế
Soon, when Mr. Musk (AKA Emperor Ming) and his A.I. powered humanoid Robots take over our world we wont be allowed to drive, clutches and gears will be consigned to history and using petrol will be considered an anti-social act! We need Flash Gordon!
Chaotic streets and bustling markets, Hanoi in the 1950s was not much different than it is now.
Sure there were less cars and motorbikes back then, and the air quality was probably much better. But these black and white photos show that the spirit of the capital is very much the same. Through these photos, one can almost hear the cacophony of life on the streets and feel that familiar sense of being lost in the crowd.
let’s visit the past, strolling by the Old Quarters and meeting the vendors at Đồng Xuân market through these photos below.
Vendors on Đồng Xuân.
Đồng Xuân Market.
Why such beauty in this place?
Tràng Tiền Street.
Tràng Tiền, Hàng Bài, Hàng Khay intersection.
Basket weavers.
More basket weavers.
For your woodenware needs.
and I don’t have a wooden heart
Blankets for when it’s cold.
Pottery shops.
Offerings for the ancestors.
This is still a very ‘alive’ tradition in Vietnam. There is no ‘official’ religion but unofficially it’s a mixture of Buddhism, Taoism and ancestor worship. Every Tet holiday family graves are cleaned, painted and offerings of flowers and food placed.
Pots and pans.
The iconic cone hat.
It’s called a Non La.
Phở vendor.
Pho – pronounced phurr, is probably the most popular street food in Vietnam. Currently it will cost between 1.50 to 2.00 UKP’s and a bowl will keep you going all-day. It comprises of noodles and thinly sliced morsels of beef along with herbs and vegetable leaves all in a hot broth made from boiling beef bones. Delicious!
Learning to sew.
Trung Liệt Pagoda.
Street food.
On the left looks like ‘Binh Bao’ a white rice based soft dough containing minced and herb infused pork and often a quail egg.
Metalware shop.
Humanity seems to be on the cusp of massive and frighteningly quick changes mainly due to A. I. Humanoid robots doing boring dangerous work, driving a car will become a thing of the past. Personalised treatment for cancer. Changes to your baby’s DNA to remove potential diseases. Teachers will disappear, information instantly available, languages instantly translated, Cash will go, and maybe in a hundred years from now we may need permission from an authority to die! But hey, at the moment we’re ok! we can still fire bullets, aim bombs, send very fast missiles and kill people. I’ve forgotten why! Maybe it’s because rich people with lots of shares in Arms Manufacturing Companies can get richer! Yes that must be it!
Sunday, 06 October 2024. Written by Uyên Đỗ. Nikolai Sokolov.
A space outside of one’s home and workplace, where people meet and interact socially.
Where do we go to find a place that feels like home, but isn’t?
Not home, not the office — a third place is a space that stands apart from daily life, where one feel comfortable enough to connect with new people and form new relationships.
Sociologist Ray Oldenburg first coined the term “third place,” describing it as a cultural incubator where shared values take root. It’s a space where people can converse with others, express their individual identities, and find a sense of “belonging” through platonic and romantic bonding. The third place manifests in various forms, constantly evolving to fit the fabric of each society, whether it’s a neighborhood bar, a cozy used book store, or even a temple.
Saigon boasts more than 200 bridges.
In Vietnam’s major cities, rapid economic development and urbanization have led to the shrinking of public works and free communal spaces like parks, libraries, or playgrounds — the most natural and accessible third places for people from all walks of life. But human connection is resilient, and informal third places have emerged in the leftover cracks of urban infrastructure.
Workers resting under the Ba Son bridges.
In 2019, Russian photographer Nikolai Sokolov moved to Vietnam from Saint Petersburg. His work gradually shifted from abstract and landscape photography to street photography, drawn by “the people and the life here.” In the summer of 2024, he spent his time capturing everyday moments beneath Saigon’s many bridges.
“I’ve traveled all over Vietnam, and I often found myself sheltering under bridges to avoid the sun or rain. I started noticing that many people were sitting under these bridges, especially in the south. There was something special about them — each came with a different story. One day, a man asked me to take his picture, and from that moment, I knew I wanted to document the lives of these people. Each face, each gaze offered a story. And I wanted to share it.”
Lazin on a Sunday afternoon!
Neglected and overlooked, bridges are far from anyone’s idea of a traditional third place, and the commuters who usually use them are passing through out of necessity. But in Nikolai Sokolov’s black-and-white photos, these anonymous bridges (though if you’re sharp, you might recognize them) come alive as tranquil yet vibrant sanctuaries. Beneath rigid concrete structures, rough patches of ground are transformed into playgrounds, gathering spots for friends and family, or simply a place to rest in the midst of the city’s constant motion.
Free-range ducklings, now available at your nearest bridge.
What’s your name? — Errrr Donald.
The sweet joy of swinging in the shade on a hot afternoon.
The first rule of cockfighting club is: you do not talk about cockfighting club.
Birds of a feather surely flock together.
We’re here to make up the numbers at a Trump Rally!
“Dude, you cheating?”
Future stars of the national team?
Sisters and best friends.
Just middle-aged people casually flexing spines healthier than yours.
Yes! You definitely get a different perspective on global events from this position!
Dressed to impress.
I’m the Princess, you be the fairy!
“I already won. No point arguing now.”
Better safe than sorry.
Messin about on the river!
Most definitely a good boy.
Get my motor runnin! I was born to be wild!
The bridge-side tango.
For some, this is the first place.
“What kind of school awards did you get this year?” “I barely passed, uncle!”
You can practically hear the squeak in this photo.
Cigarette smoke and dust.
Who’s coming in last this round?
In 1915 a Jewish / Zionist Bio-Chemist Dr. Chaim Weizmann working at Manchester university invented a new way to make Acetone. – acetone is an essential ingredient for making the smokeless explosive cordite. England got it’s acetone from Germany but now there was WW1. Weizmann did a deal with Lord Balfour and the English Government to give the new process free of charge to the Government for essential munitions manufacturing.PROVIDING! That after the war the British Government supported the creation of the State of Israel on land currently occupied by Palestinian Arabs. The rest is the horrible history that still exists today where babies legs are blown off and children’s parents are blasted to death.
Monday, 19 August 2024. Written by Camille Lay. Top graphic by Trường Dĩ.
Having been abroad for more than a year, I was excited at the mere mention of Vietnam anywhere, so I was even more delighted when I learned of the popular musical Miss Saigon. Posters of it were plastered up in musical-themed bars in Manchester and different theaters across London. The musical is constantly on tour, having recently been staged in Brisbane, Manila, and Singapore. I was curious to see what about the play created such a cultural phenomenon in western theater and pop culture, especially when all people ever seem to know of Vietnam is the war and phở. The play, however, with its questionable history and writing choices, didn’t live up to my expectations.
First released in 1989, Miss Saigon was written by Claude-Michel Schonberg and Alain Boubil, the talents behind the musical adaptation of Les Misérables. Split into two acts, it begins by telling a story of love and lust between an American G.I. named Chris, first played by Simon Bowman, and a poor young Vietnamese girl, Kim, whose circumstances force her into prostitution. Kim was first played by Filipino vocalist Lea Salonga. After they fall in love, Chris offers to bring Kim to America but fails when the US suddenly pulls out of Vietnam. The second act then depicts a tragic tale of motherhood and sacrifices. Kim has given birth to Chris’ child while Chris grapples with his decision to abandon his family with Kim and stay with his new American wife, Ellen.
The poster for a cinematic screening of Miss Saigon’s original cast, featuring Lea Salonga as Kim and Simon Bowman as Chris. Image via IMDB.
Miss Saigon is one of the most influential musicals in theater history, having had one of the longest runs on Broadway. It launched Lea Salonga and Jonathan Pryce into international stardom and its 2014 revival set the world record for opening-day ticket sales. Much of the critics’ praise seems warranted: the set design is incredible and grandiose; the actors all deliver incredible performances; and each song makes a lasting impression. Part of what kept my attention until the end was the suspense and a desire to know the outcomes of each character, but unfortunately, most of my attention was devoted to trying to understand certain writing decisions.
The play has been subject to controversies since its first staging. Early performances were met with outrage, especially within Asian communities in the west because of its casting choices and depictions of Asians. One of its main characters, simply named The Engineer, is a scheming French-Vietnamese pimp who was originally played by Pryce, a white man. He wore eye prostheses and bronze-yellow makeup to look more Asian. This yellowface was bad enough, but the character also perpetuates racist stereotypes of Asians as cowardly, calculating, and manipulative of innocent Americans. He is later seen licking the boots of the American dream, played for laughs. The song, aptly called ‘The American Dream,’ features The Engineer excessively praising America as the land of opportunities, exclaiming that he’d fit in there better as an aspiring capitalist than in Asia, where his talents for pimping girls are wasted.
“I’m fed up with small-time hustles I’m too good to waste my talent for greed I need room to flex my muscles in an ocean where the big sharks feed make me Yankee, they’re my family […] Greasy chinks make life so sleazy in the States, I’ll have a club that’s four-starred men like me there have things easy.”
Miss Saigon received a revival in 2014 and, thankfully, much was changed. The new iteration featured Asian actors for Asian roles and much of the racist language was removed from the script. The Engineer no longer calls his fellow countrymen “chinks.” Moreover, he was no longer played by Jonathan Pryce but by Jon Jon Briones, a Filipino-American actor. While it’s worth noting that most of the cast, aside from the American characters, consisted of Asians, no one in the main cast was of Vietnamese ancestry. These changes only made the play a bit less racist, not free from racism. No Asian character was depicted positively aside from the main character Kim, who was presented as unique from other girls. Since the core plot relies on stereotypical behavior, simply removing the use of the word “chink” doesn’t change the play’s racist and misogynistic overtones.
Kim clad in a sexualized áo dài, as seen in the Australian production of Miss Saigon, starring Abigail Adriano (left) and Nigel Huckle (right) as Kim and Chris. Photo by Daniel Boud via Lifestyle Asia.
Kim first enters the stage at a brothel/bar wearing a sexualized version of áo dài consisting of only the dress without the pants. She is fetishized with pedophilic undertones. Her innocence and demureness make Chris, fall in love at first sight. Her virginity and young age are also points of focus for many of the characters and she is even described as “little” and “jailbait.” She is simultaneously depicted as the shy and orientalist stereotype and the exotic, hyper-sexualized femme fatale stereotype.
While the characters at first see Kim as a stereotype, her behavior establishes her as an anomaly, different from the other Vietnamese girls who use crude language and aggressive, pushy behavior.
“The village I come from seems so far away All of the girls know much more what to say But I know I have a heart like the sea A million dreams are in me…”
Kim shares about her arrival at the bar, contrasting the vulgarity of the other Vietnamese bar girls. This contrast is shown in the lyrics sung by Gigi, another prostitute at the bar, and the titular Miss Saigon herself.
“If I’m your pin-up, I’ll melt all your brass Stuck on your wall, with a pin in my ass If you get me, you will travel first-class I’ll show you, we will make magic, cheri.”
Thuy, on the other hand, is a Việt Cộng soldier with sadistic tendencies who is in love with his own cousin, Kim. He first appears in the middle of Act 1, disrupting the wedding ceremony between Chris and Kim. In Act 2, once he finds out that Kim has given birth to the child of an American G.I., he is ready to commit infanticide to absolve her of her sins and take her as his wife. So while Vietnamese women are depicted as either aggressive prostitutes or demure angels in white, Vietnamese men are either scheming cowards or barbaric soldiers.
Vietnamese bargirls dancing in Dreamland, the club owned by The Engineer where Kim and Gigi works. Photo via Twitter page @MissSaigonUK.
The depictions of Vietnamese characters are in stark contrast to the American characters. Chris is always righteous and after first rejecting Kim for being too young, he tries to do right by his Vietnamese lover. After they sleep together, he finds out about her tragic past and how she lost her virginity. He attempts to bring her to America to provide a better life for her but is unsuccessful. They are separated when the war ends. Five years later, he is married to an American woman, Ellen, and discovers Kim is still alive and has given birth to their son, Tam. He sets off to Asia with his wife to find and rescue his abandoned Vietnamese family. Feeling duty-bound to his ex-lover, he is determined to right his wrongs. “So I wanted to save, protect her. Christ, I’m an American. How could I fail to do good?” he says to his wife.
Alistair Brammer as Chris and Eva Noblezada as Kim in a show in the United Kingdom in 2016. Photo via The Guardian.
Even the more politically correct 2014 revival of the play fails to dispel racist and misogynistic overtones. The roots of racism and misogyny go deeper than just the use of yellowface or characters using an occasional slur. The story itself is built on stereotypes which the plot advances: without Kim’s innocence, which sets her apart from other girls, Chris wouldn’t have fallen in love with her; without the Engineer’s greed and scheming personality, the couple wouldn’t have met or reunited years later; without Thuy, there wouldn’t have been a clear antagonist in the story, and without the American’s savior complex, there wouldn’t have been a second act. As stereotypes are so woven into the plot, with each main character representing a different caricature, it would be impossible to transform the play into something completely acceptable.
The Engineer (in red) played by Sean Miley Moore in a recent revival.
The only constant, undaunted, and admirable aspect of the story is Kim’s undying love for her child. Miss Saigon was inspired by a 1975 photograph of a Vietnamese mother seeing her daughter off at Tân Sơn Nhứt Air Base to give her a better life in America. It’s this maternal love that is the focus of the second act of the play. Time and time again, Kim sacrifices for her child, from prostituting herself in Bangkok to killing Thuy to protect him. The finale mirrors the photograph that started it all. The maternal sacrifice culminates in Kim’s suicide at the end of the play so all obstacles are removed for Chis to bring Tam to the US.
Abigail Adriano as Kim in the Australian production of Miss Saigon. Photo by Daniel Boud via Australian Jewish News.
Although racist and misogynistic tones exist throughout the play, Kim’s experiences of motherhood show that a good story could have been told if only the play had focused more on Kim, her experiences in the war, how she had lost her family, and how she had hoped to build a new one, rather than paying too much attention to a sleazy pimp and a virtuous American. Even if the 2014 revival, which continues to be performed around the world, aims to make itself more politically correct than its predecessor, simple script and casting changes are simply superficial modifications that fail to remedy the core problems.
Miss Saigon is one of the few times Vietnam gets the spotlight in the West. Instead of focusing on the resilience and resourcefulness of Vietnamese people during the war or at least shining light onto Vietnamese culture and values, the writers decided to depict the country as a land of immorality filled with helpless women, scheming men, and barbaric nationalists.
So! Mr. Musk is all set to use humanoid robots in his Tesla factories next year. Quantum Computing, A.I. ??? “We’re doomed Captain Mannering! We’re all doomed, a tell yu! We’re spending millions on blowing ourselves up, killing each other yet there are children starving to death. Wonderful! Perhaps Robots will do a better job than us!
Monday, 19 August 2024. Written by Camille Lay. Top graphic by Trường Dĩ.
AAAHaving been abroad for more than a year, I was excited at the mere mention of Vietnam anywhere, so I was even more delighted when I learned of the popular musical Miss Saigon. Posters of it were plastered up in musical-themed bars in Manchester and different theaters across London. The musical is constantly on tour, having recently been staged in Brisbane, Manila, and Singapore. I was curious to see what about the play created such a cultural phenomenon in western theater and pop culture, especially when all people ever seem to know of Vietnam is the war and phở. The play, however, with its questionable history and writing choices, didn’t live up to my expectations.
First released in 1989, Miss Saigon was written by Claude-Michel Schonberg and Alain Boubil, the talents behind the musical adaptation of Les Misérables. Split into two acts, it begins by telling a story of love and lust between an American G.I. named Chris, first played by Simon Bowman, and a poor young Vietnamese girl, Kim, whose circumstances force her into prostitution. Kim was first played by Filipino vocalist Lea Salonga. After they fall in love, Chris offers to bring Kim to America but fails when the US suddenly pulls out of Vietnam. The second act then depicts a tragic tale of motherhood and sacrifices. Kim has given birth to Chris’ child while Chris grapples with his decision to abandon his family with Kim and stay with his new American wife, Ellen.
The poster for a cinematic screening of Miss Saigon’s original cast, featuring Lea Salonga as Kim and Simon Bowman as Chris. Image via IMDB.
Miss Saigon is one of the most influential musicals in theater history, having had one of the longest runs on Broadway. It launched Lea Salonga and Jonathan Pryce into international stardom and its 2014 revival set the world record for opening-day ticket sales. Much of the critics’ praise seems warranted: the set design is incredible and grandiose; the actors all deliver incredible performances; and each song makes a lasting impression. Part of what kept my attention until the end was the suspense and a desire to know the outcomes of each character, but unfortunately, most of my attention was devoted to trying to understand certain writing decisions.
The play has been subject to controversies since its first staging. Early performances were met with outrage, especially within Asian communities in the west because of its casting choices and depictions of Asians. One of its main characters, simply named The Engineer, is a scheming French-Vietnamese pimp who was originally played by Pryce, a white man. He wore eye prostheses and bronze-yellow makeup to look more Asian. This yellowface was bad enough, but the character also perpetuates racist stereotypes of Asians as cowardly, calculating, and manipulative of innocent Americans. He is later seen licking the boots of the American dream, played for laughs. The song, aptly called ‘The American Dream,’ features The Engineer excessively praising America as the land of opportunities, exclaiming that he’d fit in there better as an aspiring capitalist than in Asia, where his talents for pimping girls are wasted.
“I’m fed up with small-time hustles I’m too good to waste my talent for greed I need room to flex my muscles in an ocean where the big sharks feed make me Yankee, they’re my family […] Greasy chinks make life so sleazy in the States, I’ll have a club that’s four-starred men like me there have things easy.”
Miss Saigon received a revival in 2014 and, thankfully, much was changed. The new iteration featured Asian actors for Asian roles and much of the racist language was removed from the script. The Engineer no longer calls his fellow countrymen “chinks.” Moreover, he was no longer played by Jonathan Pryce but by Jon Jon Briones, a Filipino-American actor. While it’s worth noting that most of the cast, aside from the American characters, consisted of Asians, no one in the main cast was of Vietnamese ancestry. These changes only made the play a bit less racist, not free from racism. No Asian character was depicted positively aside from the main character Kim, who was presented as unique from other girls. Since the core plot relies on stereotypical behavior, simply removing the use of the word “chink” doesn’t change the play’s racist and misogynistic overtones.
Kim clad in a sexualized áo dài, as seen in the Australian production of Miss Saigon, starring Abigail Adriano (left) and Nigel Huckle (right) as Kim and Chris. Photo by Daniel Boud via Lifestyle Asia.
Kim first enters the stage at a brothel/bar wearing a sexualized version of áo dài consisting of only the dress without the pants. She is fetishized with pedophilic undertones. Her innocence and demureness make Chris, fall in love at first sight. Her virginity and young age are also points of focus for many of the characters and she is even described as “little” and “jailbait.” She is simultaneously depicted as the shy and orientalist stereotype and the exotic, hyper-sexualized femme fatale stereotype.
While the characters at first see Kim as a stereotype, her behavior establishes her as an anomaly, different from the other Vietnamese girls who use crude language and aggressive, pushy behavior.
“The village I come from seems so far away All of the girls know much more what to say But I know I have a heart like the sea A million dreams are in me…”
Kim shares about her arrival at the bar, contrasting the vulgarity of the other Vietnamese bar girls. This contrast is shown in the lyrics sung by Gigi, another prostitute at the bar, and the titular Miss Saigon herself.
“If I’m your pin-up, I’ll melt all your brass Stuck on your ball, with a pin in my ass If you get me, you will travel first-class I’ll show you, we will make magic, cheri.”
Thuy, on the other hand, is a Việt Cộng soldier with sadistic tendencies who is in love with his own cousin, Kim. He first appears in the middle of Act 1, disrupting the wedding ceremony between Chris and Kim. In Act 2, once he finds out that Kim has given birth to the child of an American G.I., he is ready to commit infanticide to absolve her of her sins and take her as his wife. So while Vietnamese women are depicted as either aggressive prostitutes or demure angels in white, Vietnamese men are either scheming cowards or barbaric soldiers.
Vietnamese bargirls dancing in Dreamland, the club owned by The Engineer where Kim and Gigi works. Photo via Twitter page @MissSaigonUK.
The depictions of Vietnamese characters are in stark contrast to the American characters. Chris is always righteous and after first rejecting Kim for being too young, he tries to do right by his Vietnamese lover. After they sleep together, he finds out about her tragic past and how she lost her virginity. He attempts to bring her to America to provide a better life for her but is unsuccessful. They are separated when the war ends. Five years later, he is married to an American woman, Ellen, and discovers Kim is still alive and has given birth to their son, Tam. He sets off to Asia with his wife to find and rescue his abandoned Vietnamese family. Feeling duty-bound to his ex-lover, he is determined to right his wrongs. “So I wanted to save, protect her. Christ, I’m an American. How could I fail to do good?” he says to his wife.
Alistair Brammer as Chris and Eva Noblezada as Kim in a show in the United Kingdom in 2016. Photo via The Guardian.
Even the more politically correct 2014 revival of the play fails to dispel racist and misogynistic overtones. The roots of racism and misogyny go deeper than just the use of yellowface or characters using an occasional slur. The story itself is built on stereotypes which the plot advances: without Kim’s innocence, which sets her apart from other girls, Chris wouldn’t have fallen in love with her; without the Engineer’s greed and scheming personality, the couple wouldn’t have met or reunited years later; without Thuy, there wouldn’t have been a clear antagonist in the story, and without the American’s savior complex, there wouldn’t have been a second act. As stereotypes are so woven into the plot, with each main character representing a different caricature, it would be impossible to transform the play into something completely acceptable.
The Engineer (in red) played by Sean Miley Moore in a recent revival.
The only constant, undaunted, and admirable aspect of the story is Kim’s undying love for her child. Miss Saigon was inspired by a 1975 photograph of a Vietnamese mother seeing her daughter off at Tân Sơn Nhứt Air Base to give her a better life in America. It’s this maternal love that is the focus of the second act of the play. Time and time again, Kim sacrifices for her child, from prostituting herself in Bangkok to killing Thuy to protect him. The finale mirrors the photograph that started it all. The maternal sacrifice culminates in Kim’s suicide at the end of the play so all obstacles are removed for Chis to bring Tam to the US.
Abigail Adriano as Kim in the Australian production of Miss Saigon. Photo by Daniel Boud via Australian Jewish News.
Although racist and misogynistic tones exist throughout the play, Kim’s experiences of motherhood show that a good story could have been told if only the play had focused more on Kim, her experiences in the war, how she had lost her family, and how she had hoped to build a new one, rather than paying too much attention to a sleazy pimp and a virtuous American. Even if the 2014 revival, which continues to be performed around the world, aims to make itself more politically correct than its predecessor, simple script and casting changes are simply superficial modifications that fail to remedy the core problems.
Miss Saigon is one of the few times Vietnam gets the spotlight in the West. Instead of focusing on the resilience and resourcefulness of Vietnamese people during the war or at least shining light onto Vietnamese culture and values, the writers decided to depict the country as a land of immorality filled with helpless women, scheming men, and barbaric nationalists.
If you have enjoyed our work and believe that Saigoneer’s voice is an important one to have, please consider supporting us. Pledge any amount you’re comfortable with in the form of a one-time or recurring donation so we can continue bringing you the stories you love to read.
Monday, 19 August 2024. Written by Camille Lay. Top graphic by Trường Dĩ.
AAAHaving been abroad for more than a year, I was excited at the mere mention of Vietnam anywhere, so I was even more delighted when I learned of the popular musical Miss Saigon. Posters of it were plastered up in musical-themed bars in Manchester and different theaters across London. The musical is constantly on tour, having recently been staged in Brisbane, Manila, and Singapore. I was curious to see what about the play created such a cultural phenomenon in western theater and pop culture, especially when all people ever seem to know of Vietnam is the war and phở. The play, however, with its questionable history and writing choices, didn’t live up to my expectations.
First released in 1989, Miss Saigon was written by Claude-Michel Schonberg and Alain Boubil, the talents behind the musical adaptation of Les Misérables. Split into two acts, it begins by telling a story of love and lust between an American G.I. named Chris, first played by Simon Bowman, and a poor young Vietnamese girl, Kim, whose circumstances force her into prostitution. Kim was first played by Filipino vocalist Lea Salonga. After they fall in love, Chris offers to bring Kim to America but fails when the US suddenly pulls out of Vietnam. The second act then depicts a tragic tale of motherhood and sacrifices. Kim has given birth to Chris’ child while Chris grapples with his decision to abandon his family with Kim and stay with his new American wife, Ellen.
The poster for a cinematic screening of Miss Saigon’s original cast, featuring Lea Salonga as Kim and Simon Bowman as Chris. Image via IMDB.
Miss Saigon is one of the most influential musicals in theater history, having had one of the longest runs on Broadway. It launched Lea Salonga and Jonathan Pryce into international stardom and its 2014 revival set the world record for opening-day ticket sales. Much of the critics’ praise seems warranted: the set design is incredible and grandiose; the actors all deliver incredible performances; and each song makes a lasting impression. Part of what kept my attention until the end was the suspense and a desire to know the outcomes of each character, but unfortunately, most of my attention was devoted to trying to understand certain writing decisions.
The play has been subject to controversies since its first staging. Early performances were met with outrage, especially within Asian communities in the west because of its casting choices and depictions of Asians. One of its main characters, simply named The Engineer, is a scheming French-Vietnamese pimp who was originally played by Pryce, a white man. He wore eye prostheses and bronze-yellow makeup to look more Asian. This yellowface was bad enough, but the character also perpetuates racist stereotypes of Asians as cowardly, calculating, and manipulative of innocent Americans. He is later seen licking the boots of the American dream, played for laughs. The song, aptly called ‘The American Dream,’ features The Engineer excessively praising America as the land of opportunities, exclaiming that he’d fit in there better as an aspiring capitalist than in Asia, where his talents for pimping girls are wasted.
“I’m fed up with small-time hustles I’m too good to waste my talent for greed I need room to flex my muscles in an ocean where the big sharks feed make me Yankee, they’re my family […] Greasy chinks make life so sleazy in the States, I’ll have a club that’s four-starred men like me there have things easy.”
Miss Saigon received a revival in 2014 and, thankfully, much was changed. The new iteration featured Asian actors for Asian roles and much of the racist language was removed from the script. The Engineer no longer calls his fellow countrymen “chinks.” Moreover, he was no longer played by Jonathan Pryce but by Jon Jon Briones, a Filipino-American actor. While it’s worth noting that most of the cast, aside from the American characters, consisted of Asians, no one in the main cast was of Vietnamese ancestry. These changes only made the play a bit less racist, not free from racism. No Asian character was depicted positively aside from the main character Kim, who was presented as unique from other girls. Since the core plot relies on stereotypical behavior, simply removing the use of the word “chink” doesn’t change the play’s racist and misogynistic overtones.
Kim clad in a sexualized áo dài, as seen in the Australian production of Miss Saigon, starring Abigail Adriano (left) and Nigel Huckle (right) as Kim and Chris. Photo by Daniel Boud via Lifestyle Asia.
Kim first enters the stage at a brothel/bar wearing a sexualized version of áo dài consisting of only the dress without the pants. She is fetishized with pedophilic undertones. Her innocence and demureness make Chris, fall in love at first sight. Her virginity and young age are also points of focus for many of the characters and she is even described as “little” and “jailbait.” She is simultaneously depicted as the shy and orientalist stereotype and the exotic, hyper-sexualized femme fatale stereotype.
While the characters at first see Kim as a stereotype, her behavior establishes her as an anomaly, different from the other Vietnamese girls who use crude language and aggressive, pushy behavior.
“The village I come from seems so far away All of the girls know much more what to say But I know I have a heart like the sea A million dreams are in me…”
Kim shares about her arrival at the bar, contrasting the vulgarity of the other Vietnamese bar girls. This contrast is shown in the lyrics sung by Gigi, another prostitute at the bar, and the titular Miss Saigon herself.
“If I’m your pin-up, I’ll melt all your brass Stuck on your ball, with a pin in my ass If you get me, you will travel first-class I’ll show you, we will make magic, cheri.”
Thuy, on the other hand, is a Việt Cộng soldier with sadistic tendencies who is in love with his own cousin, Kim. He first appears in the middle of Act 1, disrupting the wedding ceremony between Chris and Kim. In Act 2, once he finds out that Kim has given birth to the child of an American G.I., he is ready to commit infanticide to absolve her of her sins and take her as his wife. So while Vietnamese women are depicted as either aggressive prostitutes or demure angels in white, Vietnamese men are either scheming cowards or barbaric soldiers.
Vietnamese bargirls dancing in Dreamland, the club owned by The Engineer where Kim and Gigi works. Photo via Twitter page @MissSaigonUK.
The depictions of Vietnamese characters are in stark contrast to the American characters. Chris is always righteous and after first rejecting Kim for being too young, he tries to do right by his Vietnamese lover. After they sleep together, he finds out about her tragic past and how she lost her virginity. He attempts to bring her to America to provide a better life for her but is unsuccessful. They are separated when the war ends. Five years later, he is married to an American woman, Ellen, and discovers Kim is still alive and has given birth to their son, Tam. He sets off to Asia with his wife to find and rescue his abandoned Vietnamese family. Feeling duty-bound to his ex-lover, he is determined to right his wrongs. “So I wanted to save, protect her. Christ, I’m an American. How could I fail to do good?” he says to his wife.
Alistair Brammer as Chris and Eva Noblezada as Kim in a show in the United Kingdom in 2016. Photo via The Guardian.
Even the more politically correct 2014 revival of the play fails to dispel racist and misogynistic overtones. The roots of racism and misogyny go deeper than just the use of yellowface or characters using an occasional slur. The story itself is built on stereotypes which the plot advances: without Kim’s innocence, which sets her apart from other girls, Chris wouldn’t have fallen in love with her; without the Engineer’s greed and scheming personality, the couple wouldn’t have met or reunited years later; without Thuy, there wouldn’t have been a clear antagonist in the story, and without the American’s savior complex, there wouldn’t have been a second act. As stereotypes are so woven into the plot, with each main character representing a different caricature, it would be impossible to transform the play into something completely acceptable.
The Engineer (in red) played by Sean Miley Moore in a recent revival.
The only constant, undaunted, and admirable aspect of the story is Kim’s undying love for her child. Miss Saigon was inspired by a 1975 photograph of a Vietnamese mother seeing her daughter off at Tân Sơn Nhứt Air Base to give her a better life in America. It’s this maternal love that is the focus of the second act of the play. Time and time again, Kim sacrifices for her child, from prostituting herself in Bangkok to killing Thuy to protect him. The finale mirrors the photograph that started it all. The maternal sacrifice culminates in Kim’s suicide at the end of the play so all obstacles are removed for Chis to bring Tam to the US.
Abigail Adriano as Kim in the Australian production of Miss Saigon. Photo by Daniel Boud via Australian Jewish News.
Although racist and misogynistic tones exist throughout the play, Kim’s experiences of motherhood show that a good story could have been told if only the play had focused more on Kim, her experiences in the war, how she had lost her family, and how she had hoped to build a new one, rather than paying too much attention to a sleazy pimp and a virtuous American. Even if the 2014 revival, which continues to be performed around the world, aims to make itself more politically correct than its predecessor, simple script and casting changes are simply superficial modifications that fail to remedy the core problems.
Miss Saigon is one of the few times Vietnam gets the spotlight in the West. Instead of focusing on the resilience and resourcefulness of Vietnamese people during the war or at least shining light onto Vietnamese culture and values, the writers decided to depict the country as a land of immorality filled with helpless women, scheming men, and barbaric nationalists.
If you have enjoyed our work and believe that Saigoneer’s voice is an important one to have, please consider supporting us. Pledge any amount you’re comfortable with in the form of a one-time or recurring donation so we can continue bringing you the stories you love to read.
Monday, 19 August 2024. Written by Camille Lay. Top graphic by Trường Dĩ.
AAAHaving been abroad for more than a year, I was excited at the mere mention of Vietnam anywhere, so I was even more delighted when I learned of the popular musical Miss Saigon. Posters of it were plastered up in musical-themed bars in Manchester and different theaters across London. The musical is constantly on tour, having recently been staged in Brisbane, Manila, and Singapore. I was curious to see what about the play created such a cultural phenomenon in western theater and pop culture, especially when all people ever seem to know of Vietnam is the war and phở. The play, however, with its questionable history and writing choices, didn’t live up to my expectations.
First released in 1989, Miss Saigon was written by Claude-Michel Schonberg and Alain Boubil, the talents behind the musical adaptation of Les Misérables. Split into two acts, it begins by telling a story of love and lust between an American G.I. named Chris, first played by Simon Bowman, and a poor young Vietnamese girl, Kim, whose circumstances force her into prostitution. Kim was first played by Filipino vocalist Lea Salonga. After they fall in love, Chris offers to bring Kim to America but fails when the US suddenly pulls out of Vietnam. The second act then depicts a tragic tale of motherhood and sacrifices. Kim has given birth to Chris’ child while Chris grapples with his decision to abandon his family with Kim and stay with his new American wife, Ellen.
The poster for a cinematic screening of Miss Saigon’s original cast, featuring Lea Salonga as Kim and Simon Bowman as Chris. Image via IMDB.
Miss Saigon is one of the most influential musicals in theater history, having had one of the longest runs on Broadway. It launched Lea Salonga and Jonathan Pryce into international stardom and its 2014 revival set the world record for opening-day ticket sales. Much of the critics’ praise seems warranted: the set design is incredible and grandiose; the actors all deliver incredible performances; and each song makes a lasting impression. Part of what kept my attention until the end was the suspense and a desire to know the outcomes of each character, but unfortunately, most of my attention was devoted to trying to understand certain writing decisions.
The play has been subject to controversies since its first staging. Early performances were met with outrage, especially within Asian communities in the west because of its casting choices and depictions of Asians. One of its main characters, simply named The Engineer, is a scheming French-Vietnamese pimp who was originally played by Pryce, a white man. He wore eye prostheses and bronze-yellow makeup to look more Asian. This yellowface was bad enough, but the character also perpetuates racist stereotypes of Asians as cowardly, calculating, and manipulative of innocent Americans. He is later seen licking the boots of the American dream, played for laughs. The song, aptly called ‘The American Dream,’ features The Engineer excessively praising America as the land of opportunities, exclaiming that he’d fit in there better as an aspiring capitalist than in Asia, where his talents for pimping girls are wasted.
“I’m fed up with small-time hustles I’m too good to waste my talent for greed I need room to flex my muscles in an ocean where the big sharks feed make me Yankee, they’re my family […] Greasy chinks make life so sleazy in the States, I’ll have a club that’s four-starred men like me there have things easy.”
Miss Saigon received a revival in 2014 and, thankfully, much was changed. The new iteration featured Asian actors for Asian roles and much of the racist language was removed from the script. The Engineer no longer calls his fellow countrymen “chinks.” Moreover, he was no longer played by Jonathan Pryce but by Jon Jon Briones, a Filipino-American actor. While it’s worth noting that most of the cast, aside from the American characters, consisted of Asians, no one in the main cast was of Vietnamese ancestry. These changes only made the play a bit less racist, not free from racism. No Asian character was depicted positively aside from the main character Kim, who was presented as unique from other girls. Since the core plot relies on stereotypical behavior, simply removing the use of the word “chink” doesn’t change the play’s racist and misogynistic overtones.
Kim clad in a sexualized áo dài, as seen in the Australian production of Miss Saigon, starring Abigail Adriano (left) and Nigel Huckle (right) as Kim and Chris. Photo by Daniel Boud via Lifestyle Asia.
Kim first enters the stage at a brothel/bar wearing a sexualized version of áo dài consisting of only the dress without the pants. She is fetishized with pedophilic undertones. Her innocence and demureness make Chris, fall in love at first sight. Her virginity and young age are also points of focus for many of the characters and she is even described as “little” and “jailbait.” She is simultaneously depicted as the shy and orientalist stereotype and the exotic, hyper-sexualized femme fatale stereotype.
While the characters at first see Kim as a stereotype, her behavior establishes her as an anomaly, different from the other Vietnamese girls who use crude language and aggressive, pushy behavior.
“The village I come from seems so far away All of the girls know much more what to say But I know I have a heart like the sea A million dreams are in me…”
Kim shares about her arrival at the bar, contrasting the vulgarity of the other Vietnamese bar girls. This contrast is shown in the lyrics sung by Gigi, another prostitute at the bar, and the titular Miss Saigon herself.
“If I’m your pin-up, I’ll melt all your brass Stuck on your ball, with a pin in my ass If you get me, you will travel first-class I’ll show you, we will make magic, cheri.”
Thuy, on the other hand, is a Việt Cộng soldier with sadistic tendencies who is in love with his own cousin, Kim. He first appears in the middle of Act 1, disrupting the wedding ceremony between Chris and Kim. In Act 2, once he finds out that Kim has given birth to the child of an American G.I., he is ready to commit infanticide to absolve her of her sins and take her as his wife. So while Vietnamese women are depicted as either aggressive prostitutes or demure angels in white, Vietnamese men are either scheming cowards or barbaric soldiers.
Vietnamese bargirls dancing in Dreamland, the club owned by The Engineer where Kim and Gigi works. Photo via Twitter page @MissSaigonUK.
The depictions of Vietnamese characters are in stark contrast to the American characters. Chris is always righteous and after first rejecting Kim for being too young, he tries to do right by his Vietnamese lover. After they sleep together, he finds out about her tragic past and how she lost her virginity. He attempts to bring her to America to provide a better life for her but is unsuccessful. They are separated when the war ends. Five years later, he is married to an American woman, Ellen, and discovers Kim is still alive and has given birth to their son, Tam. He sets off to Asia with his wife to find and rescue his abandoned Vietnamese family. Feeling duty-bound to his ex-lover, he is determined to right his wrongs. “So I wanted to save, protect her. Christ, I’m an American. How could I fail to do good?” he says to his wife.
Alistair Brammer as Chris and Eva Noblezada as Kim in a show in the United Kingdom in 2016. Photo via The Guardian.
Even the more politically correct 2014 revival of the play fails to dispel racist and misogynistic overtones. The roots of racism and misogyny go deeper than just the use of yellowface or characters using an occasional slur. The story itself is built on stereotypes which the plot advances: without Kim’s innocence, which sets her apart from other girls, Chris wouldn’t have fallen in love with her; without the Engineer’s greed and scheming personality, the couple wouldn’t have met or reunited years later; without Thuy, there wouldn’t have been a clear antagonist in the story, and without the American’s savior complex, there wouldn’t have been a second act. As stereotypes are so woven into the plot, with each main character representing a different caricature, it would be impossible to transform the play into something completely acceptable.
The Engineer (in red) played by Sean Miley Moore in a recent revival.
The only constant, undaunted, and admirable aspect of the story is Kim’s undying love for her child. Miss Saigon was inspired by a 1975 photograph of a Vietnamese mother seeing her daughter off at Tân Sơn Nhứt Air Base to give her a better life in America. It’s this maternal love that is the focus of the second act of the play. Time and time again, Kim sacrifices for her child, from prostituting herself in Bangkok to killing Thuy to protect him. The finale mirrors the photograph that started it all. The maternal sacrifice culminates in Kim’s suicide at the end of the play so all obstacles are removed for Chis to bring Tam to the US.
Abigail Adriano as Kim in the Australian production of Miss Saigon. Photo by Daniel Boud via Australian Jewish News.
Although racist and misogynistic tones exist throughout the play, Kim’s experiences of motherhood show that a good story could have been told if only the play had focused more on Kim, her experiences in the war, how she had lost her family, and how she had hoped to build a new one, rather than paying too much attention to a sleazy pimp and a virtuous American. Even if the 2014 revival, which continues to be performed around the world, aims to make itself more politically correct than its predecessor, simple script and casting changes are simply superficial modifications that fail to remedy the core problems.
Miss Saigon is one of the few times Vietnam gets the spotlight in the West. Instead of focusing on the resilience and resourcefulness of Vietnamese people during the war or at least shining light onto Vietnamese culture and values, the writers decided to depict the country as a land of immorality filled with helpless women, scheming men, and barbaric nationalists.
If you have enjoyed our work and believe that Saigoneer’s voice is an important one to have, please consider supporting us. Pledge any amount you’re comfortable with in the form of a one-time or recurring donation so we can continue bringing you the stories you love to read.
Monday, 19 August 2024. Written by Camille Lay. Top graphic by Trường Dĩ.
AAAHaving been abroad for more than a year, I was excited at the mere mention of Vietnam anywhere, so I was even more delighted when I learned of the popular musical Miss Saigon. Posters of it were plastered up in musical-themed bars in Manchester and different theaters across London. The musical is constantly on tour, having recently been staged in Brisbane, Manila, and Singapore. I was curious to see what about the play created such a cultural phenomenon in western theater and pop culture, especially when all people ever seem to know of Vietnam is the war and phở. The play, however, with its questionable history and writing choices, didn’t live up to my expectations.
First released in 1989, Miss Saigon was written by Claude-Michel Schonberg and Alain Boubil, the talents behind the musical adaptation of Les Misérables. Split into two acts, it begins by telling a story of love and lust between an American G.I. named Chris, first played by Simon Bowman, and a poor young Vietnamese girl, Kim, whose circumstances force her into prostitution. Kim was first played by Filipino vocalist Lea Salonga. After they fall in love, Chris offers to bring Kim to America but fails when the US suddenly pulls out of Vietnam. The second act then depicts a tragic tale of motherhood and sacrifices. Kim has given birth to Chris’ child while Chris grapples with his decision to abandon his family with Kim and stay with his new American wife, Ellen.
The poster for a cinematic screening of Miss Saigon’s original cast, featuring Lea Salonga as Kim and Simon Bowman as Chris. Image via IMDB.
Miss Saigon is one of the most influential musicals in theater history, having had one of the longest runs on Broadway. It launched Lea Salonga and Jonathan Pryce into international stardom and its 2014 revival set the world record for opening-day ticket sales. Much of the critics’ praise seems warranted: the set design is incredible and grandiose; the actors all deliver incredible performances; and each song makes a lasting impression. Part of what kept my attention until the end was the suspense and a desire to know the outcomes of each character, but unfortunately, most of my attention was devoted to trying to understand certain writing decisions.
The play has been subject to controversies since its first staging. Early performances were met with outrage, especially within Asian communities in the west because of its casting choices and depictions of Asians. One of its main characters, simply named The Engineer, is a scheming French-Vietnamese pimp who was originally played by Pryce, a white man. He wore eye prostheses and bronze-yellow makeup to look more Asian. This yellowface was bad enough, but the character also perpetuates racist stereotypes of Asians as cowardly, calculating, and manipulative of innocent Americans. He is later seen licking the boots of the American dream, played for laughs. The song, aptly called ‘The American Dream,’ features The Engineer excessively praising America as the land of opportunities, exclaiming that he’d fit in there better as an aspiring capitalist than in Asia, where his talents for pimping girls are wasted.
“I’m fed up with small-time hustles I’m too good to waste my talent for greed I need room to flex my muscles in an ocean where the big sharks feed make me Yankee, they’re my family […] Greasy chinks make life so sleazy in the States, I’ll have a club that’s four-starred men like me there have things easy.”
Miss Saigon received a revival in 2014 and, thankfully, much was changed. The new iteration featured Asian actors for Asian roles and much of the racist language was removed from the script. The Engineer no longer calls his fellow countrymen “chinks.” Moreover, he was no longer played by Jonathan Pryce but by Jon Jon Briones, a Filipino-American actor. While it’s worth noting that most of the cast, aside from the American characters, consisted of Asians, no one in the main cast was of Vietnamese ancestry. These changes only made the play a bit less racist, not free from racism. No Asian character was depicted positively aside from the main character Kim, who was presented as unique from other girls. Since the core plot relies on stereotypical behavior, simply removing the use of the word “chink” doesn’t change the play’s racist and misogynistic overtones.
Kim clad in a sexualized áo dài, as seen in the Australian production of Miss Saigon, starring Abigail Adriano (left) and Nigel Huckle (right) as Kim and Chris. Photo by Daniel Boud via Lifestyle Asia.
Kim first enters the stage at a brothel/bar wearing a sexualized version of áo dài consisting of only the dress without the pants. She is fetishized with pedophilic undertones. Her innocence and demureness make Chris, fall in love at first sight. Her virginity and young age are also points of focus for many of the characters and she is even described as “little” and “jailbait.” She is simultaneously depicted as the shy and orientalist stereotype and the exotic, hyper-sexualized femme fatale stereotype.
While the characters at first see Kim as a stereotype, her behavior establishes her as an anomaly, different from the other Vietnamese girls who use crude language and aggressive, pushy behavior.
“The village I come from seems so far away All of the girls know much more what to say But I know I have a heart like the sea A million dreams are in me…”
Kim shares about her arrival at the bar, contrasting the vulgarity of the other Vietnamese bar girls. This contrast is shown in the lyrics sung by Gigi, another prostitute at the bar, and the titular Miss Saigon herself.
“If I’m your pin-up, I’ll melt all your brass Stuck on your ball, with a pin in my ass If you get me, you will travel first-class I’ll show you, we will make magic, cheri.”
Thuy, on the other hand, is a Việt Cộng soldier with sadistic tendencies who is in love with his own cousin, Kim. He first appears in the middle of Act 1, disrupting the wedding ceremony between Chris and Kim. In Act 2, once he finds out that Kim has given birth to the child of an American G.I., he is ready to commit infanticide to absolve her of her sins and take her as his wife. So while Vietnamese women are depicted as either aggressive prostitutes or demure angels in white, Vietnamese men are either scheming cowards or barbaric soldiers.
Vietnamese bargirls dancing in Dreamland, the club owned by The Engineer where Kim and Gigi works. Photo via Twitter page @MissSaigonUK.
The depictions of Vietnamese characters are in stark contrast to the American characters. Chris is always righteous and after first rejecting Kim for being too young, he tries to do right by his Vietnamese lover. After they sleep together, he finds out about her tragic past and how she lost her virginity. He attempts to bring her to America to provide a better life for her but is unsuccessful. They are separated when the war ends. Five years later, he is married to an American woman, Ellen, and discovers Kim is still alive and has given birth to their son, Tam. He sets off to Asia with his wife to find and rescue his abandoned Vietnamese family. Feeling duty-bound to his ex-lover, he is determined to right his wrongs. “So I wanted to save, protect her. Christ, I’m an American. How could I fail to do good?” he says to his wife.
Alistair Brammer as Chris and Eva Noblezada as Kim in a show in the United Kingdom in 2016. Photo via The Guardian.
Even the more politically correct 2014 revival of the play fails to dispel racist and misogynistic overtones. The roots of racism and misogyny go deeper than just the use of yellowface or characters using an occasional slur. The story itself is built on stereotypes which the plot advances: without Kim’s innocence, which sets her apart from other girls, Chris wouldn’t have fallen in love with her; without the Engineer’s greed and scheming personality, the couple wouldn’t have met or reunited years later; without Thuy, there wouldn’t have been a clear antagonist in the story, and without the American’s savior complex, there wouldn’t have been a second act. As stereotypes are so woven into the plot, with each main character representing a different caricature, it would be impossible to transform the play into something completely acceptable.
The Engineer (in red) played by Sean Miley Moore in a recent revival.
The only constant, undaunted, and admirable aspect of the story is Kim’s undying love for her child. Miss Saigon was inspired by a 1975 photograph of a Vietnamese mother seeing her daughter off at Tân Sơn Nhứt Air Base to give her a better life in America. It’s this maternal love that is the focus of the second act of the play. Time and time again, Kim sacrifices for her child, from prostituting herself in Bangkok to killing Thuy to protect him. The finale mirrors the photograph that started it all. The maternal sacrifice culminates in Kim’s suicide at the end of the play so all obstacles are removed for Chis to bring Tam to the US.
Abigail Adriano as Kim in the Australian production of Miss Saigon. Photo by Daniel Boud via Australian Jewish News.
Although racist and misogynistic tones exist throughout the play, Kim’s experiences of motherhood show that a good story could have been told if only the play had focused more on Kim, her experiences in the war, how she had lost her family, and how she had hoped to build a new one, rather than paying too much attention to a sleazy pimp and a virtuous American. Even if the 2014 revival, which continues to be performed around the world, aims to make itself more politically correct than its predecessor, simple script and casting changes are simply superficial modifications that fail to remedy the core problems.
Miss Saigon is one of the few times Vietnam gets the spotlight in the West. Instead of focusing on the resilience and resourcefulness of Vietnamese people during the war or at least shining light onto Vietnamese culture and values, the writers decided to depict the country as a land of immorality filled with helpless women, scheming men, and barbaric nationalists.
If you have enjoyed our work and believe that Saigoneer’s voice is an important one to have, please consider supporting us. Pledge any amount you’re comfortable with in the form of a one-time or recurring donation so we can continue bringing you the stories you love to read.
Monday, 19 August 2024. Written by Camille Lay. Top graphic by Trường Dĩ.
AAAHaving been abroad for more than a year, I was excited at the mere mention of Vietnam anywhere, so I was even more delighted when I learned of the popular musical Miss Saigon. Posters of it were plastered up in musical-themed bars in Manchester and different theaters across London. The musical is constantly on tour, having recently been staged in Brisbane, Manila, and Singapore. I was curious to see what about the play created such a cultural phenomenon in western theater and pop culture, especially when all people ever seem to know of Vietnam is the war and phở. The play, however, with its questionable history and writing choices, didn’t live up to my expectations.
First released in 1989, Miss Saigon was written by Claude-Michel Schonberg and Alain Boubil, the talents behind the musical adaptation of Les Misérables. Split into two acts, it begins by telling a story of love and lust between an American G.I. named Chris, first played by Simon Bowman, and a poor young Vietnamese girl, Kim, whose circumstances force her into prostitution. Kim was first played by Filipino vocalist Lea Salonga. After they fall in love, Chris offers to bring Kim to America but fails when the US suddenly pulls out of Vietnam. The second act then depicts a tragic tale of motherhood and sacrifices. Kim has given birth to Chris’ child while Chris grapples with his decision to abandon his family with Kim and stay with his new American wife, Ellen.
The poster for a cinematic screening of Miss Saigon’s original cast, featuring Lea Salonga as Kim and Simon Bowman as Chris. Image via IMDB.
Miss Saigon is one of the most influential musicals in theater history, having had one of the longest runs on Broadway. It launched Lea Salonga and Jonathan Pryce into international stardom and its 2014 revival set the world record for opening-day ticket sales. Much of the critics’ praise seems warranted: the set design is incredible and grandiose; the actors all deliver incredible performances; and each song makes a lasting impression. Part of what kept my attention until the end was the suspense and a desire to know the outcomes of each character, but unfortunately, most of my attention was devoted to trying to understand certain writing decisions.
The play has been subject to controversies since its first staging. Early performances were met with outrage, especially within Asian communities in the west because of its casting choices and depictions of Asians. One of its main characters, simply named The Engineer, is a scheming French-Vietnamese pimp who was originally played by Pryce, a white man. He wore eye prostheses and bronze-yellow makeup to look more Asian. This yellowface was bad enough, but the character also perpetuates racist stereotypes of Asians as cowardly, calculating, and manipulative of innocent Americans. He is later seen licking the boots of the American dream, played for laughs. The song, aptly called ‘The American Dream,’ features The Engineer excessively praising America as the land of opportunities, exclaiming that he’d fit in there better as an aspiring capitalist than in Asia, where his talents for pimping girls are wasted.
“I’m fed up with small-time hustles I’m too good to waste my talent for greed I need room to flex my muscles in an ocean where the big sharks feed make me Yankee, they’re my family […] Greasy chinks make life so sleazy in the States, I’ll have a club that’s four-starred men like me there have things easy.”
Miss Saigon received a revival in 2014 and, thankfully, much was changed. The new iteration featured Asian actors for Asian roles and much of the racist language was removed from the script. The Engineer no longer calls his fellow countrymen “chinks.” Moreover, he was no longer played by Jonathan Pryce but by Jon Jon Briones, a Filipino-American actor. While it’s worth noting that most of the cast, aside from the American characters, consisted of Asians, no one in the main cast was of Vietnamese ancestry. These changes only made the play a bit less racist, not free from racism. No Asian character was depicted positively aside from the main character Kim, who was presented as unique from other girls. Since the core plot relies on stereotypical behavior, simply removing the use of the word “chink” doesn’t change the play’s racist and misogynistic overtones.
Kim clad in a sexualized áo dài, as seen in the Australian production of Miss Saigon, starring Abigail Adriano (left) and Nigel Huckle (right) as Kim and Chris. Photo by Daniel Boud via Lifestyle Asia.
Kim first enters the stage at a brothel/bar wearing a sexualized version of áo dài consisting of only the dress without the pants. She is fetishized with pedophilic undertones. Her innocence and demureness make Chris, fall in love at first sight. Her virginity and young age are also points of focus for many of the characters and she is even described as “little” and “jailbait.” She is simultaneously depicted as the shy and orientalist stereotype and the exotic, hyper-sexualized femme fatale stereotype.
While the characters at first see Kim as a stereotype, her behavior establishes her as an anomaly, different from the other Vietnamese girls who use crude language and aggressive, pushy behavior.
“The village I come from seems so far away All of the girls know much more what to say But I know I have a heart like the sea A million dreams are in me…”
Kim shares about her arrival at the bar, contrasting the vulgarity of the other Vietnamese bar girls. This contrast is shown in the lyrics sung by Gigi, another prostitute at the bar, and the titular Miss Saigon herself.
“If I’m your pin-up, I’ll melt all your brass Stuck on your ball, with a pin in my ass If you get me, you will travel first-class I’ll show you, we will make magic, cheri.”
Thuy, on the other hand, is a Việt Cộng soldier with sadistic tendencies who is in love with his own cousin, Kim. He first appears in the middle of Act 1, disrupting the wedding ceremony between Chris and Kim. In Act 2, once he finds out that Kim has given birth to the child of an American G.I., he is ready to commit infanticide to absolve her of her sins and take her as his wife. So while Vietnamese women are depicted as either aggressive prostitutes or demure angels in white, Vietnamese men are either scheming cowards or barbaric soldiers.
Vietnamese bargirls dancing in Dreamland, the club owned by The Engineer where Kim and Gigi works. Photo via Twitter page @MissSaigonUK.
The depictions of Vietnamese characters are in stark contrast to the American characters. Chris is always righteous and after first rejecting Kim for being too young, he tries to do right by his Vietnamese lover. After they sleep together, he finds out about her tragic past and how she lost her virginity. He attempts to bring her to America to provide a better life for her but is unsuccessful. They are separated when the war ends. Five years later, he is married to an American woman, Ellen, and discovers Kim is still alive and has given birth to their son, Tam. He sets off to Asia with his wife to find and rescue his abandoned Vietnamese family. Feeling duty-bound to his ex-lover, he is determined to right his wrongs. “So I wanted to save, protect her. Christ, I’m an American. How could I fail to do good?” he says to his wife.
Alistair Brammer as Chris and Eva Noblezada as Kim in a show in the United Kingdom in 2016. Photo via The Guardian.
Even the more politically correct 2014 revival of the play fails to dispel racist and misogynistic overtones. The roots of racism and misogyny go deeper than just the use of yellowface or characters using an occasional slur. The story itself is built on stereotypes which the plot advances: without Kim’s innocence, which sets her apart from other girls, Chris wouldn’t have fallen in love with her; without the Engineer’s greed and scheming personality, the couple wouldn’t have met or reunited years later; without Thuy, there wouldn’t have been a clear antagonist in the story, and without the American’s savior complex, there wouldn’t have been a second act. As stereotypes are so woven into the plot, with each main character representing a different caricature, it would be impossible to transform the play into something completely acceptable.
The Engineer (in red) played by Sean Miley Moore in a recent revival.
The only constant, undaunted, and admirable aspect of the story is Kim’s undying love for her child. Miss Saigon was inspired by a 1975 photograph of a Vietnamese mother seeing her daughter off at Tân Sơn Nhứt Air Base to give her a better life in America. It’s this maternal love that is the focus of the second act of the play. Time and time again, Kim sacrifices for her child, from prostituting herself in Bangkok to killing Thuy to protect him. The finale mirrors the photograph that started it all. The maternal sacrifice culminates in Kim’s suicide at the end of the play so all obstacles are removed for Chis to bring Tam to the US.
Abigail Adriano as Kim in the Australian production of Miss Saigon. Photo by Daniel Boud via Australian Jewish News.
Tuesday, 30 July 2024. Written by Như Quỳnh. Photos by Alberto Prieto.
The compelling images encourage one to reflect upon the complexity of the human condition and the world.
.It’s no exaggeration to say that working in a forge is akin to being in a fiery sauna.
There are two poems I remember most from my primary school days: ‘The Sound of Bamboo Brooms’ by Tố Hữu and ‘The Blacksmith’ by poet Khánh Nguyên. As a child, I associated the labor of street sweepers and blacksmiths with temperature: the former braves the cold, dewy night to clean the streets, while latter stands before a literal furnace.
On scorching Saigon days, folks hurry to reach their destination quickly to avoid the blistering heat. Yet, as I speed on local streets on my scooter, I find myself thinking more about those whose jobs require them to endure such harsh conditions for decades.
A fourth-generation torch bearer
Many, if not most, forges in Vietnam today are not named after their current owners. Passed down from generation to generation, these forges retain the original name to honor their predecessors, the craft they practice and the legacy they continue. Lò Rèn Phương, a forge in Saigon’s Thủ Đức City with a history of about 80 years, also shares this tradition.
“[Phương] was my great-grandfather’s name. Back then, everything was very rudimentary, mostly operated by manual labor. He had to use a turbine fan to coax the flames, unlike the automatic blowers we have now. But despite the hardships, he loved his craft very much. He taught my father, who then taught me,” shared Toản, the current owner, pointing with pride to the timeworn sign at the entrance of the alley leading to the forge.
Today, Lò Rèn Phương mainly produces machetes, garden hoes, shovels, crowbars, and specialized construction materials. They also take custom orders for handcrafted tools like concrete chisels and road-digging crowbars.
A bone cleaver, for instance, takes about 2–3 hours to complete. For a skilled blacksmith like Toản, the process is so familiar it’s almost second nature and he encounters little difficulty executing the steps. But when serving tough clients who demand meticulous, razor-sharp products with precise dimensions down to the millimeter, Toản must measure and weigh each piece of metal carefully, leaving no detail unchecked.
To create a perfect tool, Toản believes that the blacksmith must first choose the right type of steel: one that offers the desired hardness and durability. Once the steel is selected, it is heated in the forge until red-hot, softened to make it easier to shape, and then quickly hammered to improve the grain structure, making the blade stronger and sharper with each sharpening.
The next step is heat treatment, a crucial phase that determines the knife’s quality. The steel is heated to a specific temperature and then rapidly cooled in a mixture of oil and chemicals. This process not only increases the carbon content in the steel but also hardens the blade, enabling the user to cut smoothly through anything. The final steps involve additional sharpening, polishing, attaching the handle, and a thorough inspection before the product reaches the customer.
“There are knives in the market that have become too dull from extended use and can no longer chop effectively. People bring them to me to have the edges redone or to order new ones. Sharpening a knife costs only tens of thousand dong, while a new knife ranges from tens to hundreds of thousand dong, depending on customer needs. For example, a coconut cleaver ranges from VND150,000 to VND200,000, while a bone-chopping knife costs VND250,000 to VND300,000. The more intricate and high-quality the knife, the pricier it is.”
Despite being a small business, each product from the forge comes with a unique warranty. Customers can bring any purchase with wear-and-tear to Toản for a free makeover. Remarkably, since taking over from his father, no one has complained about the product quality or requested a refund.
Keeping the flame burning
“The hammering makes the sound ‘cực’ which symbolizes ‘struggle’ (‘khổ’), and the metal when dipped into water sizzles (‘xèo’) which sounds likes ‘nghèo’ (poverty),” Toản talks about how his trade is often jokingly associated with poor working conditions and pay.
However, instead of shying away, he decided to finish his studies, entered the workforce, then returned to help his father and eventually took over the family’s forge over 20 years ago.
“It’s tough, exhausting, and hot,” he said. “The space from the forge to where I am is probably around a thousand degrees, with direct heat rising up to about 1,200–1,300°C. Even with 2–3 fans blowing to disperse the heat, it still affects you. And obviously, exposure to coal is hazardous. But this is a trade I genuinely love. Every finished product is made with my own hands, sweat, and effort. The feeling of shaping, bending, or forging even a small knife or chisel gives me a sense of honest labor, knowing my products support many people’s work — it’s indescribable.”
He acknowledged that today, forges can’t attract as many customers as during their heyday due to the advancement of machinery and production lines. The most diminished customer demographic is contractors and companies needing large quantities. Diverse options on the market make it all the more challenging for traditional blacksmithing.
“During the golden days, my forge was always bustling with orders for all sorts of tools, not just hammers, knives, and chisels… But then technology developed so fast, mass production can constantly churn out affordable and serviceable tools, making it hard to compete,” Toản confided. Additionally, the COVID-19 pandemic disrupted many businesses, including his forge.
Yet, Toản remains optimistic, believing that each product has its unique characteristics. Some specialized products require tailor-made orders that can’t be found on the market, like a coconut saw, auto repair parts, or livestock feed knives, which must be customized to meet specific user requirements.
While blacksmithing is traditionally a father-to-son trade, some customers maintain a similar tradition. Products from the forge are durable, lasting 2–3 generations. When in need of new tools, they direct their descendants to the same forge. Toản mentioned that many older customers from far-flung localities like Long An, Hóc Môn, Củ Chi are willing to travel the long distance to order from him because they trust and prefer his products. This loyalty helps the forge endure through the years.
He fondly recalled a memorable encounter with an Indian customer who flew to Vietnam to place an order. Toản couldn’t communicate in English, so they sat on the ground, drawing out shapes and processes with chalk. “I didn’t understand a word he said, but we both drew pictures, and I ended up making several dozen crowbars for export to India. This customer returned 5–7 times, ordering hundreds of crowbars in total,” Toản said.
From the bottom of his heart, Toản always wants to maintain his ancestral trade for a long time but can’t help but worry, as he’s over 50 and his children are still young; he’s uncertain if they’ll want or be able to take over. He hopes his children can carry on the forge’s legacy for many generations.
“If young people are interested in blacksmithing, they should come to learn so it can
continue to exist. I hope that in the future, regardless of how the country progresses or changes, we remember the craftsmanship of our ancestors.”
Lò Rèn Phương is located at 562 Tô Ngọc Vân, Tam Bình Ward, Thủ Đức District, HCMC.
So! We have war in Ukraine, war in Israel, Palestine, Lebanon, Syria. Racial riots all across the UK and Donald Trump looming large, Putin, Xi, uncle Kim and Iran all best mates. What can possibly go wrong?
Below are some really nice photos of boats on a canal and happy people. Not a gun or a placard in sight.
Wednesday, 20 March 2024. Written by Paul Christiansen. Photos by Cao Nhân,
In Plain Sight is Saigoneer’s series exploring overlooked or under-appreciated places in the city. We hope it inspires you to notice the many fascinating stories, histories, and ruminations waiting right in front of your eyes.
Are your afternoons spent rambling around the city with fashionable friends; snacking on photogenic pastries at comfy retro cafes; and swerving through traffic beneath shady trees, as a particularly whimsical band with clever lyrics and tissue-paper vocals titter in your headphones? Do you consider yourself awkward but adorable? Are your memories coated in the warm shade of brown unique to recycled paper used for expensive journals filled with handwritten notes and lists? Do you encounter middle-class problems and conventional challenges that can be addressed in a quick 90 minutes? If so, it seems your life is ripe for low-stake, small-budget flick treatment. And if this movie were to be made, then certainly a scene should take place in the middle of the Nhiêu Lộc–Thị Nghè Canal aboard a small boat.
The Thị Nghè canal exists like a seam; a thread suturing the city’s disparate districts together, and thus, it is not a part of the city itself, exactly. Who doesn’t long to exist in a liminal space, indulge innate alienation and assimilate into the marginalia? If you’re like me, you’ve often gazed at the canal with wistful desires to voyage out on it. But how? Finding and buying a boat, cultivating rudimentary piloting abilities, researching licensing and preparing bribes is a hassle and a half. It’s better to employ an expert. So Saigoneer took our recent trip on the canal via the Nhiêu Lộc Boat Company (NLB), the canal’s seemingly singular operator of commercial water vessels from 2014. You will pass by one of NLB’s two stations whenever you drive over the Thị Nghè Bridge into District 1 via Nguyễn Thị Minh Khai. The fact that you’ve likely never noticed it enough to consider a voyage makes them perfect for an article for our In Plain Sight series because they are particularly splendid.
Pleasure is the sole purpose of a boat trip on the canal. This separates it from the city’s Waterbus which operates on the Saigon River and was initially launched with aspirations of providing viable public transportation services. So while it’s nice to daydream of daily commutes to and from work aboard one of the NLB boats, that’s simply impossible. It exists solely to bring joy to riders and it succeeds remarkably well with these modest aims. I’d go as far as to put it on my top five list of Saigon activities.
NLB has a fleet consisting of from five-person Phoenix rowboats up to 35-person yacht-style boats that it employs for a variety of services that include packaged public tours with food and entertainment that include music performances and opportunities to release paper lanterns as well as options to rent the boats with a captain on a per-hour basis. The latter fit the Saigoneer team’s needs and a Turtle boat (Thuyền Qui) was waiting for us when we arrived at the dock for an arranged (you must book in advance) 4:30pm departure. Between 4:30pm and 5:30pm is the best time to schedule the one-hour journey between NLB’s two docks — one near the border of Districts 1 and 3 and the other across from the Saigon Zoo — as the gathering dusk creates an ideal atmosphere, and atmosphere is the journey’s main draw.
Dusk braises the horizon in rose, orange and ochre. The sky smears soft light like a blam across the crags and imperfections of buildings that line either side of Hoàng Sa and Trường Sa. Between the roads and the water, wide strips of grass with trees offer shade to benches, exercise equipment, and sidewalks. The unmistakable scent of blooming sứ trắng hovers around the occasional bend. At this hour, nearby workers are heading home, local residents are walking their dogs, youths are gathering for gossip and horseplay, and street restaurants are opening for the evening. It’s as if the neighborhoods lining the canal have collectively finished work for the day and are casting off their uniforms for a few minutes of rest and unencumbered loafing before plunging into the hectic rush of Saigon nightlife. I’ve long claimed that the area around the canal is Saigon at its most charming and this is best witnessed via a boat at dusk.
In addition to the general vibes, a boat ride offers unique vantage points for viewing some notable city landmarks as well as personally cherished places. Landmark 81, that grotesque clutch of mismatched chopsticks, looms in the distance. The Vạn Thọ Pagoda, an understated and tree-shielded site of Buddhist worship kneels just a ways down from Pháp Hoa Pagoda, an ornate and lantern-filled spectacle near where our trip began. The bright blue Sawaco water tower, a curious insect specimen pin speared into Bình Thạnh, is likely to arouse inquiries as to its purpose from some of your fellow passengers. And then there are those sites that might not be on a typical tourist itinerary but hold private meaning for those who lived or spent time near the canal. For me, it is my favorite coffee shop, Lão Hạc Cafe; a beloved Greek restaurant whose owner still sends me the occasional random Facebook message and generously offers complimentary off-menu treats when I pay a rare visit; a particular bench near my old apartment where I would spend evenings reading and even the balcony where I spent COVID-19 lockdown watching the giraffes in the zoo. Perhaps we can only love a city once we’ve become attached to some of its insignificant elements.
Photo by Paul Christiansen.
Okay, so you can soak up the vibes and savor some nostalgic sightseeing if you happen to have a personal connection to the areas along the canal, but is there anything to actually do during the boat ride? Well, if Saigoneer’s behavior is any indication, the experience provides a terrific opportunity for taking selfies. Group shots, solo shots, candid shots, action shots; the light combined with backdrops and perspectives rarely encountered amongst tired social media locations make the boat ride perfect for taking photos. I would even suggest that those needing professional shoots (weddings, product launches, music videos, etc.) consider it.
The boat can jostle, so secure your camera while waiting for the selfie-timer. Photo by Khôi Phạm.
And since we are now on the topic of suggestions, I have a few. Bring food and drinks. If you book some of NLB’s packaged cruises they include dinner, but if you do as we did and simply rent the boat and captain you can take whatever you would like on board. Pizza buffet? Chilled beers? Selection of the latest novelty chips? Whatever your heart desires. Ditto for what type of music to play, but definitely bring some Bluetooth speakers and prepare a breezy playlist to accompany your trip. There is no need to bring cards or board games as you can satisfy such urges by inventing games that make use of the surroundings. For example, why not create a game that involves evaluating and ranking the different names and architectural styles of the various bridges you will pass beneath? Indeed, architecture buffs will enjoy them for their historical significance, but even the uniformed can enjoy debating the merits of various aesthetics. The undersides of many of the bridges feature original artwork, both officially commissioned and unsanctioned street art. Finding them feels like discovering Easter Eggs the city has hidden specifically for you and other purveyors of the canal because they would be difficult to notice otherwise.
And on the topic of objects being easy to spot, I wouldn’t suggest bringing binoculars. There’s no need. I took mine thinking I might find something neat along the way that demanded closer inspection but other than pulling them out once to attempt an identification of a dead fish floating beside us, I didn’t use them and they were rather heavy to lug around. Your naked eyes will be enough to notice floating detritus and trash on the canal, of course, but it’s nowhere near as bad as it once was. It certainly isn’t worse than any other public space in Saigon and shouldn’t discourage you from the experience. Similarly, word of mouth or past experience may lead you to believe that the canal stinks. It does not stink. If anything, the relative distance the space offers from the city’s oppressive noise pollution and general density of commotion makes the middle of the canal feel fresher and freer than just about anywhere else downtown.
Of course, as with many under-promoted and largely ignored Saigon activities, a boat ride on the canal is not without sources of whimsy. Most obvious are the strange, plastic-encumbered vessels anchored in the canal. One features painted plastic bottles assembled into crude pinwheels while another has a small hut built out of clear bottles. Like many sources of whimsy, their intended purpose is unfathomable. Another surprise awaits at the end of the journey, at least if you are disembarking at the zoo-adjacent dock. As we approached a large fountain system erupted. After 6pm, the jets of water would be accompanied by colorful lights, but instead, it was just clear canal water arcing up into the sky and falling back down unceremoniously. The overture intended for our arrival was a little pathetic in its lacked grandeur, like three people performing a round of applause in an otherwise empty conference room. It felt fitting though, as whimsy always travels with a lump of disenchantment in its shoe, like sand carried in from the beach.
Whimsy is never too far removed from danger, either. Genuine risk of injury is my fondest memory of a boat ride on the canal. Back in 2018, I joined a group of friends for an identical ride and midway through our voyage, the engine erupted in great flames. They pawed and scratched at the boat’s wooden roof while we rushed to the front with provided life jackets in hand and discussed who could swim and which side of the canal we should head for if we needed to jump off. Thankfully, the captain was able to put the blaze out with shirts dunked in the canal water. The engine no longer worked but we were able to float back down to the dock without a problem. It was a beautiful night.
They were the business! The best! The Boys! Brendon and Niall were Hereford Drug Squad, they always won. For one of them it didn’t matter what he did. He searched for elusive failure, wanted punishment, deserved and needed condemnation. For the other, breaking the rules was OK as long as you enjoyed it, didn’t get caught, and didn’t hurt anybody. Bermuda, marriage, trains, Thailand, Hong Kong, New York, divorce, death, several deaths, Ecuador, Guatemala Belize, Brecon Beacons Love, Drugs, Love, Memories, Love and two dogs. Did I mention Love! Oh! And money.
Enjoy! for 5 USD in E format or 10 USD in Paperback.
Monday, 18 April 2022. Written by Ann Ann. Images courtesy of Trọng Tính.
Read this article in Vietnamese at Sài·gòn·eer.Much like their descendants today, schoolchildren of 1930s Vietnam also took art classes as part of their syllabus. In this rare collection of what was essentially our grandparents’ homework, we can surprisingly learn a lot about the daily life of Mekong Delta residents from nearly 100 years ago.
Art is a crucial subject in assisting the development of a young child’s sense of aesthetics, even though not every pupil is excited by drawing lessons. During these hands-on hours, students not only learn how to record what they observe on paper, but also how to appreciate art and life.
Just by flicking through these intricate art assignments by students of the École Primaire de Long Xuyên in 1930, one can feel the pulse of life imbued in every household object and scene portrayed. The scans were archived by the French National Museum of Education.
École Primaire de Long Xuyên, 1920.
Long Xuyên County (as it was then called) received its first administrative designation in the 1860s–1870s. In 1900, Long Xuyên became a province, consisting of three districts: Châu Thành, Thốt Nốt, and Chợ Mới. In 1917, Governor-General Albert Sarraut issued the General Regulation of Education in January 1917, allowing Long Xuyên as a province to establish public schools — which led to the birth of École primaire de Long Xuyên, or Long Xuyên Primary School.
In this artwork collection from 1930, students commonly opted for household items in their still life sketches, like areca nut trays, vases, and even one ghe hầu — an ornate pleasure barge used by members of the upper echelons on vacations. One student chose to draw a pair of geckos, which, as thằn lằn fans at Saigoneer, we feel should deserve more than a 7/10 grade.
It does come as a surprise when we marvel at these sketches because the level of attention to detail was remarkable. From the vases’ elegant inlaid mother of pearl to regal dragon patterns on trays, the students did a sterling job at capturing the artisanship of past craftsmen in their work. Moreover, by looking at these artworks, we can have a glimpse into the range of home items of past Vietnamese that might longer be in use today, such as the areca nut sets.
A noticeable motif present in the decorative items that were portrayed by students was the “lotus and duck” subject or liên áp in Vietnamese. The character for áp (鴨), meaning “duck,” has an element of giáp (甲), meaning “first.” This signifies an aspiration to attain high achievement in academic pursuits. Liên (蓮), meaning “lotus,” is a homophone of liên (連), meaning “continuous.” Depictions of “lotus and duck” reflect people’s desire to have good luck in their studies and future career.
Interestingly, one of the most popular subjects is the areca nut and betel leaf kit used by past generations. A set usually has a tray or lidded pot, a pitcher of lime powder, a cutter, a mixing spoon, dried thuốc xỉa leaves, and a spitting bottle.
In three works by the authors Sư, Huỳnh Văn Mới and Kỳ, we can identify some of these instruments in three different styles, all beautifully crafted to showcase their owners’ financial station. In the set drawn by Sư, the exterior of the box is lacquered and embellished with a “lotus and duck” scene. For the sets owned by Mới and Kỳ’s families, the receptacles were made of bronze.
Three sets of different trầu cau utensils show us the diversity and complexity of our ancestors’ areca nut-chewing pastime.
An areca nut box, or cơi trầu, is a multi-component container with a lid, used to store the various tools needed in the consumption of areca nut and betel leaf mixture. Ô trầu, on the other hand, is simply a hollow cylindrical container where everything is kept. According to Trọng Tính, a co-founder of history forum Đại Nam Hội Quán, these setups were usually displayed by wealthy households back then in their living room to flaunt their social status.
Commenting on this set of artworks, Tính also noted that the opulent boat drawn by Trần Tấn Tước isn’t just any mode of transportation commonly seen now. It’s a ghe hầu, a leisure vehicle reserved for river cruise and is decorated with festive flags, a prominent rudder, and other amenities. Today, not many have survived, though two are still kicking around, including the Sáu Bổ owned by Trần Văn Thành, and the Sấm owned by Lê Văn Mưu, also known as Ông Trần.
Marveling at these art assignments by students in the 1930s Mekong Delta, we get to know a delightful facet of the life of past Vietnamese. Areca nut boxes have largely disappeared from our daily routine, and now mostly exist as artifacts in museums. If you’re lucky, there might be one lurking in a corner of the family living room, waiting to be rediscovered. If not, then you’ll probably have to settle for digital images or one of these detailed sketches by students of the Long Xuyên Primary School.
What I can’t understand is why, after the horror of WW11 Holocaust, aren’t the Israelies the most kind, forgiving understanding race in the world
Looking at past albums of our cities today, I’m always stricken by a bewildering vastness — every street, every square, every building seemed to have been constructed in a ghost town, serving lonesome phantoms and nonchalant horse-drawn wagons.
That sense of eerie emptiness extends to this collection of black-and-white shots taken in Hanoi in the 1920s, serving as stock images for postcards and illustrations for books about the city under French rule. Be it major avenues or tiny lanes, the thoroughfares of Hanoi past hosted few pedestrians and fewer vehicles, so they appear breezy and tranquil, a far cry to the pandemonia of today.
This cognitive dissonance can be attributed to Vietnam’s skyrocketing population, the growth rate of which would quickly render even the most generously designed streets narrow and ineffective. When these images were recorded, Hanoi had a population of 81,000, compared to New York’s 5.6 million and Paris’s nearly 3 million. Flash forward to today and Hanoi’s size has ballooned to over 8.5 million people, while the streets depicted here have not changed much throughout the years.
Have a closer look at Hanoi in the 1920s via the images below:
A jewel shop on Hàng Bạc Street.
A customer browses jewelry options.
Jewelry makers hard at work.
A glass display showcasing valuable decor and accessories.
The fashion visual merchandising game was on point.
The intersection between Tràng Tiền and Trần Nhật Duật.
The building that housed the French Veteran Club, and then Unity Club. Today it has been demolished for an office.
Hat makers.
Inside the Hai Chinh hat workshop. It used to produce around 10,000 items a year.
The exterior of Hai Chinh.
The entrance to Saint Paul Hospital, which still exists today.
Tràng Tiền Street.
Tràng Tiền Street from the Hanoi Opera House.
Shops on Tràng Tiền.
Another perspective of Tràng Tiền.
Grands Magasins Reunis, a department store specializing in imported goods from Europe.
A view of Tràng Tiền from the Opera House.
A football match at the Stade Mangin, now Cột Cờ Stadium.
The exterior of Le Coq d’Or, a high-end hotel. Today it’s the Hòa Bình Hotel.
Students in the yard of Yên Phụ School.
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes Turn and face the strange Ch-ch-changes Don’t want to be a richer man Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes Turn and face the strange Ch-ch-changes There’s gonna have to be a different man Time may change me But I can’t trace time. —– David Bowie 2004.
Friday, 04 August 2023. Written by Julie Vola. Photos courtesy of Julie Vola
Starting this September, Hôtel des Arts is undertaking a number of initiatives to celebrate Vietnam’s architectural and cultural heritage. One such effort is the Digital Exhibition: A Journey through Saigon’s Timeless Heritage which places links to Saigoneer Heritage section articles throughout the hotel so guests can enjoy in-depth explorations of topics that the boutique hotel believes are worthy of preservation.We often see archival images of old Hanoi, but these photos are different — they are personal. The following shots, which come from a collection of five photo albums, are the only surviving record of my two great-great-grandfathers’ presence in what was then Indochina.
I don’t know when exactly they arrived, but it was around 1880, right in the midst of the French colonization of Tonkin. One, named Vézin, was an entrepreneur or a contractor; the other, Louis Vola, was a civil engineer for the colonial administration.
The most remarkable subject in these albums is the documentation of early railway construction. We can see land being leveled, bridges being built, locomotives at train stations and workers toiling in the mountains.
After gathering some information from my father and uncle, it seems more than likely that both my ancestors worked together on the railway from Phủ Lạng Thương, which is just outside Hanoi, to beside the Chinese border at Lạng Sơn.
Neither of the two men has gone down in history; their names are almost completely forgotten. And it might be for the best. As Tim Doling explains in his book The Railways and Tramways of Việt Nam, Vézin was not known for his kindness:
‘Cause out on the edge of darkness There rides the peace train
On 18 March 1887, a technical commission nominated by Resident General Paul Bert approved the construction of a 98km military line leading from Phủ Lạng Thương (Bắc Giang), 50km northeast of Hà Nội, to the strategic border town of Lạng Sơn. This ligne de la porte de Chine (China gateway line) was conceived primarily to improve lines of communication between the border region and the Red River Delta and to facilitate the movement of troops and supplies to and from Lạng Sơn fortress during the Tonkin campaign.
The Department of Public Works entrusted the construction of the line to the Entreprise des chemins de fer du Tonkin, ligne de Phu Lang Thuong–Lang Son, which in turn engaged two sub-contractors—Entreprise Vézin and Entreprise Daniel—to carry out the work. However, the project was blighted from the start by poor management, cost over-runs and frequent attacks by roaming bands of brigands, who inflicted considerable damage on the chantiers during the difficult four-year construction period.
When initial attempts at voluntary recruitment failed to provide enough workers, thousands were forcibly requisitioned from neighbouring provinces to carry out the work. Treated brutally by overseers and obliged to work from dawn to dusk in difficult terrain and intense tropical heat, many succumbed to dysentery and cerebral malaria, while others deserted en masse.
Now come and join the living It’s not so far from you
Kidnappings were a regular occurrence on the construction sites of the Phủ Lạng Thương–Lạng Sơn railway. Monsieur Vézin himself was kidnapped in July 1892 by a band that included many of his own workers, who then demanded money for his safe return.
While it can be hard for me to read about such a troubled and immoral family history, it at least seems clear that Vézin eventually received the treatment he deserved.
Have a look at the railway’s construction below:
Now I’ve been crying lately Thinkin’ about the world as it is
Oh, peace train take this country Come take me home again
Everyone jump upon the peace train
This article was first published on Urbanist Hanoi in 2018.
What’s it all about, Alfie Is it just for the moment we live? What’s it all about Alfie, are we meant to take more than we give? “
Sunday, 03 March 2024. Written by Saigoneer. Photos provided by WWF-Cambodia
Saigoneer is partnering with WWF to explore and explain important initiatives for protecting the region’s natural environments and communities. Our efforts will not only detail how conservation is taking place, but why its such a crucial undertaking.At dawn, the blunt foreheads of Irrawaddy dolphins breach the calm surface of the Mekong River the way an epiphany enters one’s mind; unexpected, graceful and profoundly welcome.
I see friends shaking hands Saying, “How do you do?” They’re really saying I love you
Photo by Gerry Ryan.
The sight of these majestic mammals epitomizes the unique environment found in a 27,000-square-meter area in northeast Cambodia known as the Mekong Flooded Forest (MFF). The spectacular freshwater ecosystem includes wetlands, rocky and sandy riverine habitats and deep pools.
Considered a national living treasure, the Irrawaddy dolphins draw visitors from around the world, providing an important source of tourism in a generally low-income and overlooked region. The endangered dolphin’s presence serves as a measure of the ecosystem’s overall health as well. Along with giant freshwater stingray, giant barb, Mekong giant catfish, giant softshell turtle and other endangered species including hog deer, Eld’s deer, white-shouldered ibis, river tern and vultures, the dolphins are an integral element of community-based ecotourism (CBET) efforts that can help ensure the entire Mekong region enjoys a prosperous future.
I see trees of green Red roses too I see them bloom For me and you
Photo by Pha Nem.
The Environmental, Economic, and Social Significance of the Mekong Flooded Forest
The MFF’s stunning network of seasonally-submerged forests, rapids-beset riverbeds and floodplains support diverse plant and animal populations. 411 species of inland fish, 37 species of mammals, 281 species of birds, 52 species of reptiles and amphibians, and 674 species of vascular plants live in the 180 kilometer stretch of the Mekong River in addition to 65,000 people in 61 villages. These human communities have developed rich cultures and traditions dependent on the ecosystem.
Photo by Pha Nem.
MFF residents rely on the abundant waters for fisheries and the surrounding areas for agriculture. Thriving fish populations support ecosystems beyond the MFF as well. Most profoundly, the MFF contributes water, nutrients and migration routes to the Tonle Sap Lake, the world’s most productive inland fishery which is of immense importance to Cambodia’s overall economy and local livelihoods, providing 60% of all Cambodia’s protein intake. Marc Goichot, WWF’s Asia Pacific Freshwater Lead, explains: “Mekong floods are the main engine for the Tonle Sap Lake biological cycle that most species depend on. The exceptional productivity of the Tonle Sap Lake is very much correlated to the flood pulse and nutrient availability. Many fish species migrate between the Mekong and Tonle Sap. In fact, it may be the largest fish migration route on the planet.”
Photo by Nicholas Axelrod-Ruom.
Meanwhile, the greater Mekong ecosystem that impacts all of Southeast Asia benefits from the MFF’s role in groundwater formation, flood cycle regulation, natural pollution filtering, oxidation of surplus nutrients, erosion protection, and sediment retention. For example, some of the rich soil carried by the Mekong River through Vietnam can be traced back to the MFF.
The Mekong Flooded Forest at Risk
The threats to the MFF are nearly as diverse as the wildlife dependent on it. Illegal fishing and overfishing, poaching and illegal logging, coupled with unsustainable development contribute to ecosystem degradation. The precarious balance of sustainable local lifestyles is in danger as illegal and irresponsible natural resource use increases alongside a lack of financial and educational resources.
Photo by Thomas Cristofoletti.
Compounding the threats to the MFF are the hydropower developments nearby and upriver. To meet increasing energy demands, many dams have been constructed with more proposed, bringing with them an array of environmental challenges. The impacts of the dams on water flow, particularly in conjunction with climate change, upends the delicate flood and drought cycles that have sustained humans and animals for centuries. The dam’s reservoirs reduce nutrients in the river system and weaken the connection between the area and Tonle Sap Lake. They also disrupt the natural spawning and migration patterns of fish and bird species, disturbing wildlife food chains and populations.
The Impact of Holistic Community and International Collaborations
No single solution will safeguard the MFF from the many threats it faces and the dedication of numerous stakeholders will be necessary. Local individuals, groups and agencies are working together with international organizations such as WWF-Cambodia to implement nature-based solutions (NbS). Specifically, Climate Resilient by Nature – Mekong Project (CRxN Mekong) aimed to improve the region’s ecologically sustainable response to climate change and environmental degradation. It nurtured CBET initiatives; improved governance and protection for vulnerable ecosystems; supported Community Fisheries Groups (CFi) for sustainable resource management and diversified incomes; strengthened policy advocacy and environmental awareness; and emphasized gender inclusion. WWF-Cambodia collaborated with Cambodia’s Culture and Environment Preservation Association (CEPA) in Stung Treng Province and IIRR Cambodia in Kratie Province as well as local community members and leaders.
The colors of the rainbow So pretty in the sky Are also on the faces Of people going by
Photo by Sopheap Phim (left ) and Pha Nem (right)
WWF-Cambodia helped establish a variety of activities in pursuit of the desired outcomes. Households were provided fish fingerlings and new or repaired concrete tanks to raise them in as an alternative to illegally caught wild species. CFi offered training to female members on aquaculture product processing and labeling, marketing and competent financial management in addition to hospitality and tourist experiences. Bio-intensive gardens with 20 types of crops were established in households and at two schools to produce food and additional income sources, as well as to serve as educational resources for climate-smart agriculture techniques. The CBET involve local residents in tourism services including dolphin and birdwatching tours and facilitate the sale of indigenous crafts.
“My motivation and passion is from sustainable use of natural resources so that the next generation will have these resources,” explained Im Chak, a 63-year-old member of the Khsach Leav Community Fishery and River Guard in Kratie province. The continued support of these river guards is one of the CRxN Mekong’s most visible tasks. WWF-Cambodia helped to organize training classes for the guards to expand their knowledge of patrolling techniques and protocol, rivercraft operation, laws and enforcement to effectively safeguard natural resources. The courses were supplemented by the procurement of equipment including boats and engines, smartphones, lifejackets, power banks and headlamps.
Community fisheries patrol team. Photo by Sina Pha.
Carefully collected statistics can help explain the progress made since the CRxN Mekong project in Cambodia began in July 2022. As of the end of 2023, 2,458 individuals had been directly involved in NbS to protect and restore critical ecosystems and establish community resilience plans. 2,089 people had their vulnerability to climate change reduced via the adoption of technologies including solar panels. 370 people had been directly involved in newly established or enhanced livelihood activities such as ecotourism, fish raising and vegetable planting with 47% of targeted community members reporting a greater number of income sources for their households. 11,850 ha/km2 are now governed by or improved by management models with 72 river guards, 72 bird nest protection guards and 42 CFi helping safeguard against illegal and unsustainable activities.
Photos by Pha Nem.
What Success Looks Like for Local Lives
The CRxN program is perhaps best understood by examining specific individuals who have benefited from it. Kan Vannak, a 48-year-old father of four from Chroy Banteay Village in Kratie Province, for example, was an illegal fisherman as recently as 2020. Motivated in part by uncertain economic realities exacerbated by the COVID-19 pandemic and a decline in natural resource abundance, he took part in WWF-Cambodia’s educational activities which introduced him to the benefits of ecotourism. He participated in a variety of training workshops including those focused on boat operations and hospitality skills. He stopped illegal fishing and now works as a boat driver to supplement his income from planting rice, raising chickens and growing vegetables.
Kan Vanak at his home. Photo by Pha Nem.
As Vannak’s story underscores, protecting the MFF involves providing viable economic opportunities as alternatives to unsustainable activities. Skilled traditional scarf weaver, Yin Sam Onn from Keng Village in Kratie Province, for example, received technical guidance from the CRxN project as well as opportunities to showcase her work at various local, provincial and national exhibitions and CBET. The 70-year-old’s ability to sell her products will be enhanced by the growth of tourism in the region which will bring in customers with educated interests in sustainable support of local communities.
Yin Som Onn with her scarves. Photos by Pha Nem.
Similarly, Horn Thida, a 44-year-old mother of four from Khsach Leav Village in Kratie Province participated in training courses for solar panel installation and helped share information regarding reducing plastic use, amongst other topics relevant to the emerging ecotourism industry. She trained village members on how to prepare food, welcome guests, raise chickens and grow vegetables, and now earns money serving meals to tourists who come to witness the area’s splendorous wildlife. Reflecting on the changes observed in her home village she notes that women in particular are more skilled and brave, with economic independence helping them avoid domestic violence.
Horn Thida. Photos by Pha Nem.
The success of climate resilience and ecosystem safeguarding efforts in the MFF can also be observed via individual animals. If organizations like WWF-Cambodia in partnership with local communities achieve their goals, it will mean Irrawaddy dolphins continue to play in the deep waters that rush between riverbanks covered in lush vegetation. Difficult to spot, a quick glimpse of a tail fin flicking above the current may signal that this special region of the Mekong River has hope for a healthy future.
Photo by Tan Somethbunwath.
Climate Resilient by Nature (CRxN) is an Australian Government initiative, in partnership with WWF-Australia, advancing high-integrity, equitable nature-based solutions to climate change in the Indo-Pacific. Funding for this project in Vietnam is provided by the Mekong Australia Partnership – Water, Energy and Climate.
I see friends shaking hands Saying, “How do you do?” They’re really saying I love you.
But over the past few decades, the construction of hydropower dams has undermined the river’s capacity to support life: more than 160 dams operate throughout the Mekong Basin, including 13 on the river’s mainstream, with hundreds more either planned or under construction.
It’ a wonderful world, shame about the dominant species destroying our only home and killing each other!
Thursday, 18 January 2024. Written by Saigoneer. Photos courtesy of Mark Hodson.
Starting this September, Hôtel des Arts is undertaking a number of initiatives to celebrate Vietnam’s architectural and cultural heritage. One such effort is the Digital Exhibition: A Journey through Saigon’s Timeless Heritage which places links to Saigoneer Heritage section articles throughout the hotel so guests can enjoy in-depth explorations of topics that the boutique hotel believes are worthy of preservation.How has your life been transformed in the past 30 years? Changes might materialize overnight, but some tend to creep up on you at a glacial pace. Through this collection of images from 1992, mull over how Vietnam as a country has grown with every 12-month cycle.
These photographs were taken by travel writer Mark Hodson, who had a rare opportunity to tour Vietnam in the early 1990s when international tourism was virtually unheard of here. Without the presence of themed resorts, travel agents, cable cars and cruise boats, scenes in the country were captured as closely as possible to the quotidian life of locals.
A busy phở joint in Hanoi.
“I was using a Canon AE1 SLR, shooting on Fujichrome Velvia 50, mostly with a 50mm lens,” Hodson writes on his website about the trip. “I had prints made from the original transparencies, and what you see below are scans of those prints. I haven’t adjusted any of the coloring.”
Here are some glimpse of Hanoi, Hội An, and Nha Trang in the 1990s:
Fruit vendors set up shop in front of rows of old buildings in Hanoi.
The vast emptiness of Hanoi’s airport, where Hodson was heading to “Vientiane aboard an ancient Russian-built Tupolev jet.”
A casual food street in Hanoi where one can slurp on porridge and instant noodles, or chew on a plate of hot xôi.
Sampans were often homes of families in Hạ Long. There wasn’t any hotels in the area, so Hodson reported sleeping in a Russian workers’ hostel.
I told yu once and I told yu twice.
Living on the water was much more common in 1992 than today.
Wood-fired inter-province coaches were quite unreliable and often broke down mid-trip.
But yu just don’t listen to my advice.
The colonial design of Huế’s train station.
An ice cream cart in Hội An.
There’s too much pain, too much sorrow.
The boats of Hội An.
In Đà Nẵng’s Chợ Hàn, a grain merchant took a nap during slow periods of the day.
Fishmongers in Hội An with their catch of the day.
Boats in Hội An.
Guess I’ll feel the same tomorrow.
A dapper Hội An man posed for a photo.
It’s corn! A big lump with knobs It has the juice (it has the juice).
Cross-country trips were often truncated by rest stops and engine failures.
Xích lô drivers in Hội An.
A fiery cockfight in Nha Trang.
A Nha Trang resident and her morning fish haul.
So! Two people were assassinated in Bosnia, politicians failed to contain the situation 20 million people died (WW1)
A despotic madman wanted to rule the world(Hitler. WW2) 70-80 million people died, about 3%of the worlds population.
About 20,000 dead so far in the Ukraine / Russia war, instigated by the leader of the largest country on earth who just wanted more!
However!
Now we all have NUCLEAR CAPABILITY, Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump
Tuesday, 11 October 2022. Written by Saigoneer. Photos courtesy of Laurent KB
Starting this September, Hôtel des Arts is undertaking a number of initiatives to celebrate Vietnam’s architectural and cultural heritage. One such effort is the Digital Exhibition: A Journey through Saigon’s Timeless Heritage which places links to Saigoneer Heritage section articles throughout the hotel so guests can enjoy in-depth explorations of topics that the boutique hotel believes are worthy of preservation.If there’s a thing this writer remembers distinctly about the early 1990s, it would be nothing, because I was barely a person that could eat and survive by myself.
Which makes these photos taken from 1992 to 1994 all the more fascinating because they are a hodgepodge of the familiar and the strange. I can identify all the species present in the neatly arranged pyramids of fresh fruits; I recognize the shiny and hyper-ruffled wedding gown because my sisters got married in one of those; I can read the names of the deceased inscribed on tombstones — and yet, it feels strangely voyeuristic and surreal to marvel at these images, to transiently set foot in someone’s memories, because I’ve never lived these moments.
The shots are part of a collection of travel images taken by Flickr user Laurent KB, a French tourist who traveled across Vietnam in the early 1990s. Their subject matters are nothing new, but they are valuable as reminders of a crucial time, both for the one who photographs and the ones who were photographed, we can’t get back.
Morning on Hạ Long Bay with freshly caught seafood.
The chaos of a wet market.
Spices and condiments.
A banana xích lô in Hanoi.
Tropical fruits at a market.
Rice varieties and beans.
Children frolic at a neighborhood playground.
Jet fighter-themed twister hits different.
A fishy xích lô.
A new bride on her wedding day.
A man in Hạ Long ferries coral clusters.
In you I put All my hope and trust
Rushing to work.
Sun-drenched Hạ Long.
Right before my eyes My whole world has turned to dust
Patterns and fabrics of the 1990s.
Ready to spice up broths and dipping sauces.
Sugar vendors at a market.
A sugar shop in Đà Lạt.
Floating on emerald.
A small hamlet on the water’s surface.
Setting sail.
The rocky central coast.
Thiên Mụ Pagoda in Huế.
Artisans working on a Nguyễn-Dynasty urn.
I keep holding on To those happy times
Smile! You’re on camera.
Peppa what chu doin’?
Đà Nẵng’s morning fish market.
A family on their houseboat.
Drying fish in Hạ Long.
Ha Long Bay is one of the wonders of the modern world, over 2000 limestone Karsts rise vertically from it’s warm tropical waters. The largest inhabited island is Cat Ba island which is home to a rare and endangered Lemur monkey that’s only found on the island. There are whole floating villages where the occupants rarely step on land.
Coal mining in Quảng Ninh.
The vast nature of Điện Biên Phủ.
Dien Bien Phu was the site of a globally pivotal battle in 1954 when the communist forces of Ho Chi Minh / Geberal Giap Vo defeated the French. The first time in modern history a nationalist force defeated a colonial power. The French left and guess who came in – Yes the good old USA.
Xóm Bóng Bridge in Nha Trang.
Ladies mending a fishing net.
Riverine merchants in Cần Thơ.
I’m all alone now No love to shield me
A lady manning a stall selling utensils made of coconut husk.
Trapped in a world That’s a distorted reality
Workers at a brick kiln.
An old Hanoian artist does sketches.
A busy market in Hanoi.
Reflections of The way life used to be
If Hungary / Victor Orban doesn’t like what Europe are doing – Leave the EU.
If the population of Eastern Ukraine like Russia so much, go and live in Russia.
If the people of Israel want to live in peace go into Gaza / the West Bank with aid/ food/doctors/ hospitals /food/water / love and kindness, not bombs and death. There would be no need or reason for Hamas.
Russia is the largest country in the world. Why does Putin want ‘a bit more?’ When was the last time you bought something that said ‘Made in Russia’. The individual GDP’s of three American states – New York/ Texas/ California exceed the GDP of Russia.
Starting this September, Hôtel des Arts is undertaking a number of initiatives to celebrate Vietnam’s architectural and cultural heritage. One such effort is the Digital Exhibition: A Journey through Saigon’s Timeless Heritage which places links to Saigoneer Heritage section articles throughout the hotel so guests can enjoy in-depth explorations of topics that the boutique hotel believes are worthy of preservation.What do you miss most about the 1990s?
Is it the jean-on-jean fashion, the distinct lack of air pollution, or the childhood snacks and toys that have more or less gone extinct? While roaming the neighborhoods of central Hanoi, a Swedish tourist by the name of Per Lander snapped these black-and-white shots of the capital on an unremarkable day. Without the fanfare of Tết or the Christmas season, these scenes of the city stand out for their pure urban rhythm and are great nostalgia fodder.
Have a closer look below:
Come gather ’round people Wherever you roam.
Nguyễn Siêu Street.
And accept it that soon You’ll be drenched to the bone
An old man selling used glasses and a street vendor grilling chả.
And keep your eyes wide The chance won’t come again
Come mothers and fathers Throughout the land And don’t criticize What you can’t understand Your sons and your daughters Are beyond your command
A trà đá stall and shops.
Shoe shop on Hàng Dầu Street.
For he that gets hurt Will be he who has stalled
Driving through Hàng Gà.
Honda Cubs are prevalent.
And don’t speak too soon For the wheel’s still in spin And there’s no tellin’ who That it’s namin’
Bamboo for sale on Hàng Gà Street.
Local students at the end of a school day.
For the loser now Will be later to win For the times they are a-changin’.
So, would you buy a pair of A.I. enabled specs that instantly record eye movements/ temperature/ sweat/ heart rates / body movements/ unconscious actions and movements/ analyses exhaled breath then compares this info to all known human conditions and responses to give you, instantly, in front of your eyes what the person you are talking to is actually thinking!!!
It’s the title of my just released new book that will take you to places you didn’t know existed. The Gilf Kebir, a plateau the size of Puerto Rico that rises nearly a thousand feet from the floor of the Sahara Desert. Eight Bells Station, a mysterious abandoned RAF station from the second World Warwhose pilots were guided in by a huge arrow built from half buried ‘Jerry’ cans in the desert sands. Sands that were littered with glass, the remains of a direct hit meteor strike thirty million years ago.
And then!
Zerzura! The mythical (or is it?) lost oasis and white city, guarded by black giants, inhabited by fair skinned people with straight swords and a sleeping King and Queen.
Think this is fiction? Check it out on Wikipedia.
And finally! One of a series of photos taken by a friend who has recently visited Kolkata. (That’s a re-badged Calcutta for all you old Colonials out there!)
I wish I hadn’t done that.I shouldn’t have really said that. And now she’s gone.
Gone away, gone for good. Good for her, not for me. What have I done?
It was nothing, nothing much, she just smiled at him, not even a touch.
“I want to buy some flowers.”
“Yes Sir. thank you very much.”
‘Only The Lonely’ – now available on Amazon Kindletwo pounds in E-format, six pounds to hold it in your hand.
“Know the way I feel tonight! Dum Dumm Dummm Dummy Doo Waah!
Tuesday, 19 September 2023. Written by Khang Nguyễn. Photos by Alberto Prieto.
Darkroom is a Saigoneer photography series that documents the beauty and stories of Vietnam and beyond. The compelling images encourage one to reflect upon the complexity of the human condition and the world. On an isle amid the Vàm Thuật river in Gò Vấp District, Phù Châu Temple, colloquially known among locals as the “floating temple,” has welcomed religious practitioners looking for a serene quarter in fast-paced Hồ Chí Minh City for over three centuries.
To get to the temple, you must take a short ferry trip. Arriving at the isle, the only sounds you will hear are the ripples of the river, and the passing of ferries and occasional airplanes.
Apparently, a long time ago we worked out how to control fire, this lead to cooking meat which lead to a lot more calories and our brains got bigger. We started to wonder about things and needed a few answers.
Much of the temple’s decorative features are made of porcelain mosaics.
The most prominent feature of Phù Châu is a house of dragons. More than 100 majestic dragon sculptures depicted in various postures and styles reside in every corner of the historic structure. Taking a closer look, visitors can immediately see the meticulous work that was put into crafting these statues.
Intricate animal motifs are peppered throughout the structure.
The temple came into existence around the 18th or early 19th century, according to word of mouth. The exact date when it was built, however, is unclear, since there is no record in any history books regarding this mysterious floating temple.
Despite the name, the temple is not actually floating. It was built on a small islet in the middle of the Vàm Thuật River.
According to a local legend, once upon a time, a fisherman on the isle accidentally netted a statue of the Queen of the Sea (Bà Thủy Tề), so the people built a temple to pay respect and pray for good luck and nature’s blessings.
Before this river becomes an ocean Before you throw my heart back on the floor
Visitors seeking good fortune can pay Miếu Nổi a visit.
A somewhat darker legend, however, tells the story of how a local man found a woman who drowned while fishing on the river. He buried her on this isle beside a small shrine erected in hopes of appeasing her soul. After the incident, the fisherman’s life suddenly improved, and after rumors of his fortune got around, people started coming to the shrine to pray and give offerings, hoping for a better life, too.
Then along came farming and more settled communities,
According to urban legends, ancient Gò Vấp residents established the temple to worship a statue of the Queen of the Sea.
Having been standing for more than 300 years, the temple has experienced many ups and downs along with Vietnam’s mercurial history. In the early 1960s, the structure was a common destination for pilgrims and wordshippers. But during the war with America, it was used to organize secret operations for soldiers. This clandestine purpose resulted in the temple being severely damaged by the time the war ended.
About 5000 years ago along came writing and the wheel (originally used for pottery) and here we are today – with lots of Gods to answer our basic questions such as ‘why are we still killing each other over materialistic possessions when we’re not immortal?
The suburban vibe of Gò Vấp.
Fortunately, a restoration project for Phù Châu began in the late 1980s, which has brought the floating temple to its current state. It’s a destination that offers a soul-soothing experience for its visitors.
Old archives of images from 1960s Saigon are easy to come by, but how often does one get to have a peek into the past version of Đà Lạt.
Sans the ubiquity of camera phones today, photography was once an expensive hobby that few could afford. For most of the 1960s and 1970s, visual records of Saigon and Vietnam were created nearly exclusively by foreign travelers and American servicemen on their film cameras. This is one of the reasons why many albums of old Saigon photos are just limited to downtown Saigon, while those taken outside the city were often in the vicinity of US Army bases.
A view of the Saigon River taken from the Caravelle Hotel.
This set of film photos showcases a typical tourist’s trail in Vietnam in the 1960s: photos taken from the balcony at Caravelle, a detour to the Saigon Zoo, and local city streets chock-full of bicycles. Nothing much is known about the author, C. E. Hablutzel, apart from the fact that they were a prolific travel photographer who visited many countries across the world from 1960 to 1965.
Đà Lạt Market.
Hablutzel’s Vietnam itinerary included Saigon, Lái Thiêu, Thủ Dầu Một and even a rare trip to Đà Lạt, offering some vistas of the sleepy resort town during a time before today’s rampant concretization. If the Saigon shots are filled with people and urban rhythms, Đà Lạt photos are awash in different shades of green, from luxuriant hills to checkerboards of vegetable gardens being grown in the open air without the greenhouses of today.
Have a closer look below:
A funeral procession on Lê Lợi.
Morning market on Bến Chương Dương (Võ Văn Kiệt Boulevard).
I’d take back those words that hurt you And you’d stay.
Hablutzel’s tour guide at Lăng Ông Bà Chiểu.
Tomb of Lê Văn Duyệt.
A bird’s-eye view of Saigon.
In front of the Saigon Opera House.
Vietnam from above.
The intersection of Nguyễn Biểu and Phan Văn Trị.
The temple in the Saigon Zoo.
The Bến Nghé Canal near Ông Lãnh Bridge.
River communities near Ông Lãnh Bridge.
Bến Nghé Canal.
Local kids playing in the canal. View from Bông Bridge.
Durian vendors on Hải Thượng Lãn Ông Boulevard.
Vendor selling mangosteens on the street in Lái Thiêu.
Garden in Lái Thiêu.
A pottery workshop in Thủ Dầu Một.
Đà Lạt Market.
Pathways near Prenn Waterfall.
Ankroet Lake.
I don’t know why I did the things I did I don’t know why I said the things I said
An elephant serving tourists.
Prenn Waterfall.
Fresh fruits at Đà Lạt Market.
Cam Ly Waterfall.
Gougah Waterfall.
Liên Khương Waterfall.
Crop fields stretching across hilly areas.
No greenhouses to be seen.
Vegetable fields in suburban Đà Lạt.
A boy in Đà Lạt fishing on the bank of Hồ Xuân Hương, with the Palace Hotel in the distance.
[Photos by C. E. Hablutzel
And so it goes on; Trump goes on lieing, Putin goes on killing, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer! Everybody hurts!
Sunday, 23 April 2023. Written by Paul Christiansen and Phương Phạm. Photos by Alberto Prieto.
Manyof the images conjured by the word leprosy (bệnh phong) can be unsettling to some. Yet, the misunderstood disease exposes the capacity for human care and empathy. Quy Nhơn’s Quy Hoà leprosy village exhibits how communities can come together to lovingly help the less fortunate.
In director Việt Linh’s film Dấu Ấn Của Quỷ (The Devil’s Mark), a character afflicted with leprosy is forced to live on the outskirts of a village with a dog as his sole companion. He willingly wears a crude bell around his neck so his neighbors have advanced warning of his arrival and can run away. His existence serves as a metaphor for the ways in which the disease robs sufferers of human connections.
It’s with this character in mind that Saigoneer entered Quy Hoà, the bright sunshine and the soothing sound of the surf in the distance already at odds with the macabre reputation surrounding the disease. An afternoon spent strolling through the village’s welcoming architecture, meeting friendly residents, and learning about the history of the hospital and the surrounding community further changed our understanding of leprosy and the positive elements it reveals about society.
The History of Leprosy in Bình Định
Leprosy, also known as Hansen’s disease (HD), is one of the world’s oldest diseases. Caused by a bacterial infection, in the long run, the disease results in skin lesions and nerve damage that leave parts of the body less sensitive to pain and temperature, and prone to deformities. While it is not especially infectious, because no effective treatment was discovered until the 1940s, it brought despair to people around the world for centuries. Exacerbated by pollution, poor sanitation and limited hygiene, it most commonly proliferated amongst the poor.
A lack of scientific understanding of the disease and the misunderstanding that it was highly contagious led to its stigmatization in Vietnam. Patients and their families would be ostracized and face cruel violence including being buried alive, drowned, or tossed into the wilderness to be ravaged by wild animals.
In the 1920s, Bình Định was officially home to 360 people afflicted with leprosy, though considering the lack of widespread diagnosis and the rural conditions, it’s possible that as many as 1,200 of the province’s 70,000 people may have had the disease. Sensing the urgent need to care for them, Paul Maheu, a French priest, founded the Laproserie de Quy Hoa Hospital in 1929 along with Dr. Lemoine of the Bình Định Hospital on a stretch of land along the coast, eight kilometers south of Quy Nhơn.
During its first year, the hospital welcomed 52 patients who stayed in thatched cottages. To care for growing needs, in 1932, six French nuns departed from Marseille and arrived via an arduous journey through Saigon and immediately went to work expanding the facilities while bathing and tending to up to 180 patients every day. New thatched homes were added to accommodate the increase in residents and the family members that often came to stay with them.
This original colony was sadly short-lived, as a vicious storm destroyed it in 1933. But the devastation allowed for the replacement facilities to expand on the original vision and the campus grew to include a church, convent, and more than 200 homes for patients to reside in.
Quy Hoà village looked little different in 1970 compared to today. Photo via Flickr user manhhai.
The Origin of Quy Hoà’s Unique Architecture
Vibrant, colorful, creative, and flamboyant are not words that one typically associates with medical facilities. Yet, Quy Hoà is in many ways the opposite of the brutally austere architecture found in most hospitals. The picturesque beach in the background, blooming rows of bougainvillea, lush palm trees, and sandy lawns certainly help, but what is truly enchanting is the colony’s architecture.
Following the 1933 storm, Sister Ozithe oversaw the construction of buildings that relied on her work as a French architect and took into account the unique preferences of the patients and their families, as well as Vietnam’s tropical construction styles. Each resident provided their vision for their homes, including the designing of one-of-a-kind bricks and ceramic tiles that were then specially made. Such room for individual expression resulted in a charming hodge-podge of colors, reliefs, facades and roofs.
The specific needs of medical patients also influenced Quy Hoà’s design. Tiled floors, few steps, no fences, and open entrances to houses responded to the physical restrictions of those with severe cases of leprosy. A multitude of benches, shady trees, and park areas were installed with consideration of the fact that those living in the colony were not able to often leave the area.
“The leper camp is becoming more and more like an urban residence. Each street has its own name, the villas loom under the shade of coconut trees, worthy of the name ‘Peace covers the country,’” explained one nun in a letter she sent back home in the early 1940s.
I would not leave you in times of trouble We never could have come this far,
I took the good times, I’ll take the bad times I’ll take you just the way you are
Despite their physical limitations, the patients played an active role in the construction of their homes. Over the years, new styles and influences, including elements of Korean and Japanese aesthetics, entered the designs, but they remained unique, in part due to the intimate relationship between home and human. Some would even argue that the suffering of those building the homes only enhanced the structures’ beauty, like water nourishing a field.
While adherence to any specific religion was not required to receive treatment, a number of statues were also installed to reinforce the values of the mission. Jesus, the Virgin Mary, various saints and famous doctors sought to calm and inspire residents. They still stand today, along with the former home of Quy Hoà’s most famous resident: poet Hàn Mặc Tử.
Arriving in in the late 1930s afflicted with advanced leprosy, the writer who famously suggested selling the moon died in 1940, at the age of 28. His simple dwelling stands as a tribute to his austere life of suffering and creativity. Books, personal possessions, letters, photos of distinguished visitors and portraits painted by his brother line the walls beside the wooden bed where he passed away.
Daily Struggles
Despite the cooperative efforts to foster comfortable, healthy conditions, life at Quy Hoà was at times arduous. At one point, only 10 nuns were tasked with taking care of more than 1,000 patients. By 1974, one year before the Vietnamese government took over its operations, there were more than 5,422 patients and the community became crowded with the additional family members that came to stay. Homes were made smaller and resources scarce as it continued to take in patients from beyond Bình Định with no discrimination based on wealth.
While Quy Hoà is now easily accessible via road from Quy Nhơn, it was once much more remote, necessitating vital supplies be brought in by boat, sometimes as infrequently as once every five months. The dire economic conditions led residents to grow coconuts to eat as well as make oil, soap, medicine and brooms. They supplemented the craft industry by asking for food and money from the surrounding communities. Until 1994, no child in the village was able to go to school beyond the elementary level.
An interesting element of the challenges and resilience of the community involves footwear. Leprosy often results in deformed limbs that require shoes of different shapes or sizes and ones that can make walking easier. Thus, in 1997 a special shoe-making operation was founded in the village. Now numerous generations of shoe-makers have participated in the craft and some, such as one man Saigoneer met, decided to continue living in the village after retiring.
And while today Quy Hoà remains well taken care of for the most part, when walking around, we did notice a few untended areas where old medical equipment, furniture and signs had been discarded. The numerous languages observed on the dilapidated signs reveal the village’s international origins and the many global organizations involved in its operations. Were in not such a sunny day with birds chirping in the background, the sight of a rusting surgery chair and old devices would have certainly made us feel as if we had entered a survival horror video game.
Life at the End of a Disease
The use of vaccines, rising living standards and isolation communities like Quy Hoà have all been credited with drastically reducing the rates of leprosy in East and Southeast Asia. Yet the disease remains a concern, and several hundred people are afflicted with it in Vietnam. And many more that have been cured remain in need of long-term care due to physical disabilities brought on by the disease. As of 2019, Quy Hoà was therefore home to 421 inpatients and approximately 40–50 outpatients.
Funding remains a significant problem for the village, even before the added economic strains of the COVID-19 pandemic. Much of the modest food rations and subsides totaling less than VND300,000 a month per person are provided via the state and other charitable contributions. Similarly, nuns continue to play an important role in offering care and securing financial support for those at Quy Hoà and the two dozen or so similar leprosy communities and hospitals in the country.
And while the stigma surrounding the disease has been reduced thanks to increased medical knowledge and falling numbers, those suffering from deformities still experience ostracism. This leads many to chose to remain sequestered amongst people that share or can at least understand their conditions. This isolation and general economic challenges mean life can be slow or lonely at Quy Hoà. When walking around, we observed many people napping, watching television and one friendly group gathered to play cards. A few groups of kids were eager to greet us, while one man had a very impressive flock of fighting roosters he was tending to. One gets the sense that like in many small villages, little changes day-to-day there.
I don’t want clever conversation
I just want someone that I can talk to I want you just the way you are
The future of Quy Hoà is unclear. Its time as a medical facility specializing in the care of leprosy patients and survivors is probably nearing an end considering the country’s dwindling infection rates. It may transition into a more conventional small village inhabited by the families of former patients. And as nearby Quy Nhơn continues to grow, it is hardly the isolated outpost it once was. It can now be reached via a pleasant stroll that includes a side-trek up a mountain and several years ago, a few kilometers away, a state-of-the-art science and space facility opened that welcomes esteemed experts in a variety of fields from around the world.
Given the beautiful locale, unique architecture, and history, it’s impossible to imagine it won’t attract increasing numbers of visitors. It sounds morbid to consider a leprosy hospital to be a tourist attraction, but it has become a popular destination for youths to come take photos. The idea that the site of much former misery and suffering could become a desirable day trip locale is an inspiring idea.
I
Having come back to ‘The Yat’ after many years in South East Asia I’m amazed at the natural beauty of this area – ‘Genius Locii – Spirit of the Place – it truly is!
