Virtual-Doug

Leftovers

We’re on the way home.  As always, a little piece of my heart stays in Viet Nam when we leave.  The Mystery Guest Blogger and I always feel so blessed to have been given the privilege to know the modern Viet Nam.  Our love of this country and its wonderful people is a gift from God.

Photographically, this has been a great trip.  I enjoy writing the little stories almost as much as taking the photographs.  It’s like a poor man’s journalism.

But not all photos get used.  Either it was an unplanned grab shot or it just didn’t fit into a story. Such photos are a little bit like orphans, and like an orphan, they need to be loved too.  So here you are – some photos that didn’t make it into a story.

I love faces.  There is a window into the soul through a person’s face.  I usually ask permission to take a photo – I just raise the camera to face level, smile, and say “Okay?”  The vast majority of the time, I get a positive reply.  Then I busy myself with my camera, pretending to fiddle with buttons and settings and the subject soon gets bored and ignores me.  That’s when I can get the shot – when the person has forgotten me and is not thinking about a camera being pointed at him.  This man’s job is to care for the water buffalo – there are at least thirteen of them in the picture.  Soon the rice planting season will begin and both buffalo and man will be working hard.

(As always, click on each photo to see the large version.)

But you can’t always ask permission – and why would you bother to ask two little boys on a bicycle?  I don’t normally like to take “sneaky shots” of people – I feel like I am invading their privacy – but in this case, I just grabbed the camera when I saw the shot coming up.  The boys?  They could’ve cared less that I didn’t ask permission, as long as they got to see their picture on the LCD screen on my camera.  After many giggles and punching each other on the shoulder, they rode on home. 

Generally, I don’t pose people for photos – I want to get them doing what comes naturally – but sometimes I may direct them, at least a little bit.  This man was busy stacking rice seedlings on a cart.  While other folks pulled the young plants out of the ground, he carried the bunches to the wagon.  The seedlings will be replanted soon in a bigger rice field or paddy.  The first few shots of him “acting naturally” were great, but the backgrounds were ugly buildings.  I just motioned him to move a little to his left – and I got my shot.

Sometimes, patience is required.  This little girl was cute as a button.  She probably had never seen a westerner before and was both shy and curious.  But during most of the time I watched her, she had a finger in her nose – not a very appealing photo. I waited – and waited – and waited.  I think Mom saw what was going on (that’s her on the left) and said something to the child.  The finger was removed, and I got the look on her face I had hoped for.

And sometimes, I just plain get lucky.  No skill – no great planning – just pure unadulterated luck.  I was standing next to the railroad tracks when a train came by.  I raised the camera, found a window to focus on, zoomed in tight and panned as the train swooshed by.  I really wonder what was going through this young person’s mind.  Was life as painful as the face seems to indicate?

I don’t normally take landscapes – I don’t have the artistic eye for composition that is required of a good landscape shooter.  However, while Mr. Cu and I were out looking for faces, we went by this bucolic view – and we had to stop and take a few shots.  I do wish the sun had been out so the colors would be brighter, but any day taking pictures is a good day.

 I also seldom take pictures of buildings and such - - what I derisively call “postcard pix.”  But on this trip, thinking I may not be back in Hue, I wanted to get shots of some of the local famous landmarks.  This is the Ngo Mon Gate, the king’s entrance into the imperial headquarters inside The Citadel.  The costumed men in the shot were preparing for a festival and parade that night.

A different kind of photo.  This one is actually a failure.  Here’s the background info:  when taking photos early in the morning, some objects are brightly lit, but there are also deep shadows.  The inside of this boat is in deep shadow.  Your eye does a pretty good job of compensating, but a digital camera is not as good as your eye.  There is a computer technique call “high dynamic range” (HDR for short) that merges three photos together.  The first photo will be intentionally underexposed to you can see the bright spots are toned down, another shot is overexposed so you can see shadow, and the third is at normal exposure.  Though I fiddled a lot with it on my laptop, the sky kept turning out grey.  I’ll play with it some more on my big computer when I get home.

Finally, sunset on the beautiful Perfume River of Hue, taken near the end of the trip. In our last night in Hue, I thank all of you for joining us on this trip. 

Tam biet, Viet Nam.

Dawn at the Lagoon

The fresh seafood you get at Vietnamese restaurants starts its journey to your plate very early.  Fishermen who spent the night on the lagoon come into the harbor of a small fishing village to sell their wares and swap the latest news.  They arrive in small boats, some powered by gasoline engines and some powered by paddles and oars.  The harbor channel consists of fish pen fences – bamboo stakes driven into the earth only a few feet below the surface.  Each pen has its own little fishing shack, accessible only by boat.

(Be sure to click on each photo to see a larger version of it.)

These are people who spend all of their working day on the water – they have been in boats all their lives.  The smallest of children get used to being in a boat at an age when they learn to walk – it’s just the way life is lived.  They tag along with Mom as she sells the night’s catch – and most likely, this young boy will be working alongside his mother before too much longer.

And these are poor people.  They are far removed from the glitz, glamour and money of the big cities.  The lagoon they fish is slowly dying as pollution from nearby shrimp farms and raw waste dumped in the rivers that flow into it kills off the fish.  There is a question whether this little girl will be able to earn a livelihood from the lagoon when she grows up.

 

Nearby, her mother makes a sale to the fish monger who will then take the catch into the city or nearby village markets for sale.  If she, like many of the others, has been out on the lagoon during the night, she is probably hungry – so a stop at the local eatery is called for.  You won’t find fancy stuff here – just good inexpensive nutritious fare such as soup, rice or noodles.  Notice the television antenna – hey, you gotta watch the morning news, right?

Many of the fisher folk on the lagoon are functionally illiterate.  It’s a real problem that must be solved if the cycle of poverty is ever going to be broken.  Without an education, this young man may not know any way to make a living other than fishing.  While many may bemoan the disappearance of the “traditional” Viet Nam, the fact remains that Viet Nam must find ways to spread the wealth from the cities into the countryside.  One of those ways is by education.  While primary schooling is supposed to be mandatory, the very small tuition is still more than many families can afford.  Once he is off the boat, our young man scampers over the little bamboo bridge into the village and on to school.

And the nights catch is on its way to market.

There is a sidebar to this story.  As usual, I went out on this shoot with my good friend Mr. Cu – who has forgotten more about photographing people than I will ever know.  I got up at 4:30am for the ride to the village. First light was breaking as we checked out the little harbor and I realized the rising sun would be in a place that wouldn’t make for good photos, so I proposed we rent a boat.  I’m glad we did – and glad Cu took this shot of me.  The next day, he gave me a large print of it – and with a large grin said “Advertising for the new photography tour business we’re going to start.”

Not a bad idea, Cu – not a bad idea.

Where in Hue ?? (Part II)

As always, the Mystery Guest Blogger has great ideas – and her “Where in Hue ??” post was a great success.  Here is another chance to let people know where the photographer was standing when the photo was taken.

Number 1 - We’ll start off with an easy one.  By the way – the xe may belongs to Trang, and her family graciously lets us use it when we’re in Hue.  After toting around a petite young Vietnamese lady, it now has to lug around two overweight Americans – but it takes its job “Sirius-ly” and does it well.

Extra credit for pointing out which helmet is mine and which is the MGB’s.

Number 2 – Now that the easy one is out of the way, here’s one that may be a bit more challenging.  Be specific – I want the name of the nearest bridge.  Hint:  Trang probably has the best chance of knowing where this is.

Extra credit – which direction is the traffic going?  North? East? South?  West?

Number 3 – you gotta get outta town to find this place.  Oddly enough, the Mystery Guest Blogger had been here before, but never by motorbike until the other day.  We’ll be easy on this one – you don’t have to name the building seen in the photo – just the name of the place the building belongs to.

Extra credit for knowing what would happen to the photographer if he took ten steps backwards.

Number 4 – yeah yeah, this is not rocket science.  The name of the school is in the photo, so that’s not a problem.  But where was the photographer standing?

Extra credit - - what time of day is it?

Number 5 – If you’ve known us for more than five minutes, you know about this place.  Where are we eating?

Extra credit – who are these people sitting with us?

Extra extra credit – what did we eat?

Number 6 – This is by far the most difficult because most of you probably have not seen this new construction.  To get full credit, you must name the body of water shown in the photo AND you must name the street that this new bridge will extend across the water.

Extra credit if you can name the king who built this body of water.  (The Mystery Guest Blogger says she would never ask a history question.)

May the fun begin!!

Where in Hûe?? (by The Mystery Guest Blogger)

Okay, ladies and gentleman, welcome to the new game show, "Where in Hûe?"

The object of the game is for contestants, those of you familiar with Hûe, to guess where the photographer was standing when the picture was taken.  Just write your answers in the comment section below.  First correct answer wins for the day!

We have no budget and there are no prizes!  Too bad!!  But the winner will have the satisfaction of gloating and smugness.   You university students studying for your language tests, go look those two words up, so you will know how to behave if you win.

Those of you who have never been to Hue can enjoy the pictures and competition and the comments.

Ready now!??  Here we go!!  Repeat after me, with echo (look up the word echo if you need to…….),

W H E R E,  WHERE,     I N,  IN.     H U E    HUE??   ♫ music playing ♪   la  la  la  ahem…

(Click on each photo to see the full-sized version)

  Place #1  A motorbike ride was required to have cà phê sữa in our favorite place.  Where did we have coffee?  Extra point question :  Was it đá or nóng?

Place #2 A hot day, but cool setting.  Where was the photographer standing?

Place #3  This is of course the Sông Hương, the Perfume River.  It looks like most places on the bank, except for a small detail.  Where was this picture taken?  No extra credit --- this question is difficult enough!

Place #4  Taxi anyone?!  What was behind the photographer as this shot was taken?  Extra points if you have ever gotten a taxi at this location.

Place #5   This is taken over the middle of the water, just for you, Bob.  Where is it?   Extra credit if you know who Bob is, and the reason for the ‘middle’ reference.

He is Risen!

He is risen indeed – even in Viet Nam.  Not only is Viet Nam 12 hours ahead of Texas time, but Vietnamese Catholics begin the celebration of Easter right after sundown on Saturday night.  The Mystery Guest Blogger and I joined the celebration at a small neighborhood Catholic church in the Gia Hoi section of Hue.

At 6:30 (yes, its dark by then) we joined the crowd outside the church building.  After some announcements from the priest, the Pascal Candle was lit, and from it, people lit their own candles.  The symbolic journey to the tomb was made as we circled the courtyard - then we entered the building to find out that the tomb was indeed empty.  Jesus had risen from the dead.

No – we didn’t understand any of the words, except “Amen” and “Alleluia!”  But we know that when a person comes forward from the audience to read, scripture is being read – and we know the story in that scripture.  We know that when the priest lifts the cup of wine, he is offering the communion to the people of God.  We know that when people bow to each other that they are passing the peace.

We watched as ladies in their beautiful ao dai and solemn men in their shirt and tie celebrated the most important event in Christendom.  And they did it in a country where less than 8% of the population shares their beliefs.

Happy Easter.

The Market Under the Bridge

The sun wasn’t fully up and the waterways were misty when the first vendors began arriving.  The small village on the banks of the Perfume River has its market under a bridge – why, I don’t know – and it’s where locals go to buy food and clothing for their families.  The sellers come from the surrounding countryside by boat, bicycle, foot, and motorbike.

(As always, be sure to click on each photo – you will see a much larger version of the photo if you do.)

Soon, the place is noisy, packed and exciting.  Noisy because the women are loud as they argue over prices, buyers denigrate the products and everyone exchanges the news of the day.  The “seafood section” of the market offers fin fish, squid, shrimp – you name it and its there.  Not only can you find what you want, but it doesn’t get any fresher than “still wigglin’ in the basket.”  Very few Vietnamese, except the wealthy folks in the cities, own refrigerators.  That necessitates frequent trips to the market (sometimes twice day) but it also means the food is super fresh.

Maybe you have a hankering for some pork.  No problem.  This pig was alive only a few hours ago, but some deft work with a big knife quickly reduces him to edible pieces.  When I returned to this vendor’s stall about an hour later, she was almost sold out.

The Vietnamese diet doesn’t have a lot of meat in it.  It’s a very healthy diet of fresh vegetables – lots of soups – with protein coming from seafood, chicken, pork, and a little beef.

Money and goods trade hands.  The Vietnamese currency is the dong.  (say dom).  The exchange rate is over 19,000 dong to the US dollar – it takes awhile to get used to the idea that 50,000 dong is about $2.50.  Prices in this market place are much lower than in the cities.  The ladies are exchanging a blue colored bill - probably a 20,000 dong note – less than a dollar.  Change was given by the seller. 

The buyer in the above photo has a bowl of soup in her hand.  Ever munch on a candy bar while shopping in America?  We humans have busy lives but there are always people who will offer services to help with those busy lives.  There are a number of places in the market to buy prepared food, including this soup stall.  You can get a quick order if you wish, and either eat it at the stall or carry-out.  She will throw in some fresh greens too.

And if Grandma forgot something for the soup stall, it’s easy to send the grandson scampering back across the little creek next to the market to retrieve it from her house.

There are a lot of kids around the market.  They’re not playing hooky from school – they will go in the afternoon.  Most countryside families are too poor to pay for a full day’s schooling, so the go to school half a day.

Meanwhile, business is brisk.  From eggs to squid, a lot of women do a lot of buying and selling in a short period of time.  True, there were a few men around, including the one-legged elderly gentleman who collects the rental money from the vendors, but most of the men are hangers-on.  Women run the place.

As mid-morning approaches, the crowd thins out; the vendors pack away their scales, baskets and other paraphernalia, and the area becomes quiet again.

The ladies walk home with their purchases and the world awaits tomorrow’s dawn and another day for the market under the bridge.

The Tourists

Yeah – we used to live here in Viet Nam, but just like Americans who live in America who are tourists elsewhere in America, we took a day to be just plain tourists.

We went to the seaside resort town of Vung Tau. (say vumm tao)  It lies near the mouth of the Saigon River, and though it is on the tip of a peninsula, it feels like an island.  The easiest way to get there is by hydrofoil.   These boats-on-water-wings boogie along at 40 mph or so, are air conditioned, and run on a regular schedule.  (Sorry I couldn’t get a decent picture of one up on its wings.)  The trip takes about 1 ½ hours – and is actually fairly boring.  For the first ½ hour, the scenery is still harbor stuff – cruise ships dropping off hordes of tourists and more freighters gliding under the suspension bridge that connects the port with the agricultural Mekong delta area to the south.  Once out of the Saigon port area, there isn’t much to see – just tangled mangrove swamp on either side of the river.

Arrival is at a beautifully designed terminal, replete with a KFC outlet and the usual hordes of taxis and xe om drivers.   (Say zay ohm – it is a motorbike taxi.  They are unregulated and the drivers can be quite aggressive in trying to attract tourists.)  Vung Tau is a little different from most of the tourist areas of Viet Nam in that it is mainly for Vietnamese tourists.  That isn’t to say that foreigners don’t visit Vung Tau, but the majority of the visitors are Saigonese who come out for a short vacation.  Many foreigners in Vung Tau work in the oil fields just offshore.


Beaches – that’s what brings the crowds to Vung Tau.  Families playing in the gentle surf, flying kites, and maybe renting a jet ski or other small boat - not much different than you would see elsewhere except the Vietnamese ladies don’t sun bathe.  It is the mark of beauty to have pale skin, not a deep tan.

What would a vacation be without nice restaurants?  They abound, most of them with a nice ocean view.  We enjoyed grilled lobster at this outdoor eatery, dawdled over our food and talked about plans for the rest of the trip before we got into a taxi for a trip around the area to see the sights.

It is a pretty place.  When the French owned Viet Nam as a colony, many of them came to Vung Tau (which they call Cap St. Jacques) and their influence can still be seen in the large numbers of Catholic churches.  I wonder how the priest keeps the attention of his flock with such a beautiful view of the beach and  ocean.  Not to be outdone, the Buddhists have a beautiful pagoda right next door.  I’m not sure which place is photographed more.

Wanna be an adventure traveler in the exotic country of Viet Nam?  If so, Vung Tau will not be on your itinerary.  Not much “adventure” here – just a nice resort town to relax in.

Its Only Wrap and Roll

Quick – don’t think about it – just react.

What comes into your mind’s eye when you hear the words “Viet Nam?”

Be honest – was the image you saw little old ladies in conical hats?  Was it poverty?  Was it war?  Was it peasants toiling in verdant rice fields?

None of those images is incorrect – but they don’t tell the whole story.

Viet Nam is no longer considered a poor country.  A few ago, the United Nations recategorized Viet Nam from a poor country to a developing country.  Sure – there are lots of poor people in Viet Nam and some of them wear conical hats and work in rice fields.

This is one of a small chain of restaurants in Ho Chi Minh City – kinda looks like California, doesn’t it?  It’s in Saigon, and as elsewhere in the world, the big cities usually are trendier than other places.  Such eateries abound in the upscale areas of Saigon and Hanoi – as well as Pizza Hut and KFC.   The name of this place is “Wrap and Roll (and I like it).”  Yes, there were some western tourists in the place, but there were also a lot of nicely dressed young Vietnamese professionals enjoying lunch with friends.  (Saigon is the old name for the city – it was changed to Ho Chi Minh in 1976 when the country was reunified.  Most people still call it Saigon - - Ho Chi Minh City has too many syllables.)

(As always, be sure to click on each photo to see a larger version.)

Poor people don’t eat in places like Wrap and Roll – and neither do they drive cars like this.  The last time I checked, this Lexus sold for a little over $110,000.  Yes – that’s another Lexus parked in front of this one –BMWs, Mercedes, and Audis are common.  Most young Vietnamese will tell you they want to own a car, but often they have not thought about where they will park or drive it. The streets of Saigon are positively clogged now.

There may be a severe world-wide recession, but the pace of construction in Saigon gives you no clue as to its existence.  Construction cranes are ubiquitous.  I’m sure my architect friend Mel, who authors the blog “Antidote to Burnout” and lives in Saigon, could tell you more, but modern buildings such as this Hyundai Tower indicate the growth boom continues.  (By the way, Mel’s January 1st posting is worth reading – and in many ways reflects my own love for Viet Nam.)

The Saigon River is a major port, and another indication of Viet Nam’s continued growth.   That may well be Nike shoes being loaded aboard one of these container ships, bound for the trip to an athletic shoe store near you.  The major industrial area of Bien Hoa is just north of Saigon - the containers arrive at the port via big trucks on a six lane highway.

Then there is tourism – and Viet Nam has invested heavily in tourism.  At a time when terror bombings happen in other tourist areas of the world, Viet Nam is one of the safest places to be.  European tourists respond in droves, and stay at posh five star hotels such as the Caravelle , which overlooks the old Opera House (built by the French) in the downtown area.  Gucci has a store on the ground floor – and most of the customers are Vietnamese, not westerners.

Viet Nam is still primarily an outdoor society – and one that enjoys getting together with friends.  Even the young sophisticates of Saigon like to gather for drinks and conversation at night.  Need a space to do that?  Just put some tables on the sidewalk next to a bank building, add some waiters and food, and enjoy the conversation.  Their countryside cousins do the same thing in village markets during the morning.

Honesty demands I tell the whole story. Earlier, I mentioned poverty.  There is lots of it in Viet Nam.  Yes, the country is developing, but there are still large pockets of squalor – even in burgeoning Saigon.  Off the busy Saigon River is a swampy area caused by a big oxbow in the river.  Within sight of the skyscrapers live some very poor people.  The skyscraper under construction is the same as seen above, but people live in this little shack by the creek.  Obviously, these people are not participating in the economic growth.

Curious about that little tin shack built over the water?  It’s a toilet – and the creek is the flushing mechanism.  Less than ½ mile away are modern buildings with modern plumbing. And tourist boats full of people who will never see the shack.

But maybe your mind’s eye image was one of an old woman in a conical hat.  This lady is not old, nor is she terribly poor, but in many ways she is representative of the people in this energetic country.  She is warm, friendly – and very hard working.  She has goals – and one of them is to be part of an economically strong Viet Nam.

Maybe she even wants to eat at Wrap and Roll.

(Our two days in Saigon are over - we’re in Hue now.  For those of you who are new to this blog, the name of the city is pronounced “whay”.  We spent Thursday in Vung Tau – more on that later.)

The Return

I’m writing this piecemeal while on the way to Viet Nam.  I’m in a bit of a nostalgic mood – this will probably be our last trip to Viet Nam, except for some special circumstance which Trang knows about.  As we walked to our gate at Dallas-Ft. Worth airport, the Mystery Guest Blogger (otherwise known as my wife) reflected on the fact that we had been making these trips for eight years.  Our first time back to Viet Nam since the war was in 2002 when we went to Da Nang with Vets With a Mission .  In the eight years hence, we have seen a lot of changes in the travel itself – the new international terminals at both DFW and Tan Son Nhât airports have been built and the Sky Train people mover has been added at DFW.  America was not at war in 2002, but we now regularly see soldiers on their way to or from the wars in Iraq or Afghanistan.  We’re different too – a little heavier and grayer.  Probably the biggest difference is in our attitudes towards the trip itself – eight years ago we were mildly apprehensive about returning to the place where we had been in a war, but now we look forward to seeing old friends again – Vietnamese friends.  When we lived in Viet Nam, we got used to other things that we now look forward to – a big bowl of pho, the noise of traffic, seeing the upright posture of a girl on her bicycle, food smells from the street vendors.  And of course, eight years ago we had no idea we would have three young people we had known as students and friends studying in America.  How strange that they should remain in America while we journey to Viet Nam to see their parents.

The long trans-Pacific flight of 14 hours is over and we’re killing time in the Tokyo airport.  As I wrote earlier, this will probably be our last trip, so we decided to spurge on this one and cash in all those frequent flyer miles we’d built up on earlier trips.  This time, we are in business class.  What a delightful difference.  Instead of being cramped, we can stretch out and really sleep.  The food is a lot better too.

We’re waiting for our plane to take us on the last leg of our trip – the leg into Tan Son Nhât airport.  We left our house at 4:30 am, and it’s now 12:30 am the next day – with a three hour wait and a six hour flight ahead, not to mention clearing customs and immigration plus a taxi ride into Ho Chi Minh City.  These old bodies are getting less able to deal with the long travel.

But – we made it.  As usual, jet lag awoke us early – it is exactly 12 hours difference from Texas.  The body has a tough time dealing with such a huge change, but some melatonin helps.

As we approached Saigon last night (yes, most people still call it Saigon – Ho Chi Minh City has too many syllables), my nostalgia got to me again.  In 2002, we wondered when we would smell  “The Smell.”  Back in 1966, on my very first trip to Viet Nam, I noticed a smell even before we landed.  Go ahead – ask a veteran, and you will see a big smile once “The Smell” is mentioned.  Back in 2002, we wondered when we would smell “The Smell”, but we never did.  It wasn’t until I was standing on a busy street corner in Saigon waiting for the MGB to finish shopping, that I watched a city worker sweeping leaves from the gutter, and I realized that the city today is clean.  As my wife observed, there were no refugees living in the street now – there were no American base camps burning human waste in 55 gallon drums – there are no convoys of military vehicles.  Viet Nam is at peace, and there is no “Smell” anymore.

Sorry there are no photos in this post – the camera is still packed.  Off to get a ca phe sua (coffee with milk) and some breakfast – and meet the first of our old friends.

Già rồi bạn ơi! (We Are Getting Old)

(Note:  long time readers know of my good friend Mr. Cu.  We’re a lot alike – same age, grandfathers, photographers, kind of introverted – but he is in Huê, Việt Nam, and I am in America.  He recently sent me an email in Vietnamese – he’s never done that before – but he wanted to write in his native tongue so he could express his deepest feelings.  Trang translated it for me and did a wonderful job.  It was an introspective and contemplative email.)

All photos except the one above and the one of the old lady holding her own picture are Mr. Cu’s.  Be sure to click on each photo to see a larger version

Phan Cu was born on a sampan – a small boat on the Perfume River in Huê.  His father died at  age 42, probably from overwork as a xích lô driver, the three-wheeled pedaled conveyance used to transport people and freight.  The river people were then and are now among the poorest of the poor in Huê.  They live, work and die on the water.  Here and there along the river are clusters of moored boats – floating villages.  The largest was alongside Bạch Đằng Street on a canal that fed into the nearby river. It’s where Cu’s parents’ boat was located.  Cu lived on a boat like these with his brother and sister until he was in his teens.

I wish I’d known Cu as a young man.  Besides his obvious intelligence, I would like to know what spurred him to wanting something more than living on a sampan.  The boat kids seldom got a good education so they reverted back to working on the river as their parents did, continuing the cycle of poverty.  Cu had something inside himself that drove him to achieve higher goals.  He attended Quốc Học High School, one of the three most prestigious high schools in all of Việt Nam..  He learned English and used that skill to land a job working with the Americans at the big Phu Bai airbase near Huê. 

After the policy of đổi mới opened up Communist Việt Nam in the early 90s, Cu became part of the new emerging middle class – the owner of a prosperous café catering to western tourists and selling a lot of his photographs. But, he never forgot his modest roots.  As I got to know him better back in 2005-06, I would hear about him taking wedding photos for poor couples.  He once took me to a pagoda that cared for elderly people with no family – and Cu gave a framed portrait to each of the old people to keep as their own.  When the two of us would go out on photo jaunts, he would always surreptitiously slip a few bills into the hand of a particularly poor or elderly person.  Cu believed in giving back.

It is not unusual for Cu to escort western photographers around Huê to get the kind of shots they might not get by themselves.  I went with him on one such trip when he rented a boat and cruised the river and the sampan villages, all the while telling the two Americans about his humble beginnings.  He is proud of his river heritage, and he loves the Hương Giang – the Perfume River – the river that is almost sacred to Cu and many others who grew up in the cultural capital of Việt Nam. 

This was in the email he sent:

“Hometown is the most beautiful place in one’s heart. That’s how I feel about my beloved Huê where the gentle Hương Giang joins itself to the East Sea. The river, where I was born, has sheltered my life, witnessing all ups and downs of my boatman family. I love my Hương Giang and wish to bury myself in this river. . . I open my heart to Hương Giang and to the people whose lives are floating on the river.”

Then he told me about the news of the day

 “ . . . You know, yesterday was a memorable day for me too. The boat village . . . in Hue  . . . has been removed. I hope the boat families from now on will have a stable life.”

The place of his childhood is gone.

Ever the observer of life, Cu documented what he saw.  People whose lives are forever changed as the government moves them off the river and into new homes on land.  People’s meager belongings stacked in the dirt.  People’s boats taken apart.  People’s lives changed forever.

Cu went on:

“My hometown is very poor
 
Lack of clothes in winter
 
Shortage of food in summer
 
Flood comes every year”

And Cu took photos of his people undergoing still another wrenching event.  More than merely moving from one house to another, it was a dramatic change in lifestyle for them.

I once exchanged strong words with a European tourist.  She decried the disappearance of the old Việt Nam – saying that Việt Nam was becoming just another boring country of concrete, glass, and pavement.  She wanted the peasants to always be there, wearing conical hats. She took lots of pictures of the boats on the river.  I asked her if she wanted the people and country to remain poor just so tourists would have exotic photos to take home.  Startled, she knew what I meant.  Change must happen – it is the only constant in life.

Yet, there is a deep sadness in Mr. Cu as he watches his beloved country change.  It’s more than just getting old and wanting things to be like they used to be – Việt Nam has been through too much to cause any Vietnamese to pine for “the good old days.”

Cu ended with this:

“As you know I am born and grown up into a boatman family. I therefore feel lost when the village is no longer existing. But, let’s be cheerful, and hope for a brighter future for the unfortunate lives.”

And I will end with one of my favorite photos of Cu’s.  It expresses his love of the river and of Huê.  It is titled “Fishing the Whole Sun.”  A large print hangs in my home in America, reminding me of my second home town of Huê - - and of my good friend Cu.