{"id":199745,"date":"2019-12-25T07:35:19","date_gmt":"2019-12-25T07:35:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/?p=199745"},"modified":"2019-12-29T09:26:07","modified_gmt":"2019-12-29T09:26:07","slug":"beached-in-nha-trang","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/?p=199745","title":{"rendered":"Beached in Nha Trang"},"content":{"rendered":"

Linh Dinh — The Unz Review Dec 24, 2019<\/h1>\n
\"\"<\/a>

Nha Trang, 2019.<\/p><\/div>\n

Last month, I frowned<\/span><\/a> on those who are drawn to the vagabond, rootless lifestyle, who think it is ideal to move from hotel room to hotel room. Guess what? I\u2019ve joined them. Life is goofy that way.<\/h5>\n
After my mother-in-law threatened to stab me more than ten times, I left Saigon and stayed in Vung Tau<\/a><\/span> for over a month. Days ago, I took a 11-hour bus ride to Ea Kly, where I still had my stuff. Arriving at 3AM, I was out of that hill town by 6:30. With a backpack and two bags, I paid $4 to travel 88 miles to Nha Trang, via two vans. You can\u2019t even go half a mile in a NYC cab on that.<\/h5>\n
In the first van, our legroom was severely trimmed by bundles of bamboo rods, laid on the floor. It was a delivery vehicle as much as a passenger one. At one stop, a bag of iced chicken was left at a restaurant, for that day\u2019s lunch. A Rade man bargained his fare from $1.25 down to 85 cents. When an old lady got off, she also knocked off her fare by a third, \u201cTen thousand are enough for auntie.\u201d The driver just chuckled. He couldn\u2019t chase her down and tackle her to the ground.<\/h5>\n
\"\"<\/a>For just over $8 a night, I\u2019m well tucked into a luxury suite<\/span><\/a> at Queen 3 Hotel, right downtown. At the reception, I mumbled through my white, pho-flavored moustache and whisker, \u201cHow many days do I have to stay to get a discount?\u201d<\/h5>\n
\u201cThere is no discount, uncle. We\u2019re already the cheapest.\u201d<\/h5>\n
And they are. In the lobby, four mismatched, ratty couches line one wall, where staff and guests often lie. Wrapped in a mangy blanket, a dark and skeletal young man sleeps dreamlessly with his mouth half open. Next to him on the floor, there\u2019s a full ashtray and an empty can of Saigon Beer, lying on its side. It\u2019s a war zone, minus the moaning and blood. A sign lists a thicket of rules in Vietnamese and English, including \u201cNo prostitutes to bring in here.\u201d<\/h5>\n
\"\"<\/a>The elevator<\/a><\/span> can fit four severely malnourished individuals, stand pressed together, without anyone talking or breathing. There\u2019s often some liquid on the floor for some reason, but at least it\u2019s not piss. The button panel is held in place with plenty of clear tape, impatiently applied, with even his or her \u201cfuck it\u201d lingering in the stagnant air, like mist. It\u2019s the hotel\u2019s motto, to be muttered secondly by all who enter.<\/h5>\n
I have two beds to myself. Why can\u2019t the CIA send me al pronto two or even three Swedes? With nothing to lose, I\u2019m ready to be entrapped. \u201cI love you both equally, Astrid and Ingrid, but one thing at a time, please. I only have four balls and three strikes left.\u201d I\u2019m swinging.<\/h5>\n
Water pressure in the bathroom sink barely exists, and the toilet must be flushed at least twice each time. All fixtures and porcelain are so old, they look suspect even when clean, but hey, I\u2019m in a great location, right downtown. I even have a pseudo balcony that\u2019s useful for hanging laundry, which I wash by hands, in the morose, I\u2019ve seen it all sink. He, too, is on his last legs.<\/h5>\n
Every shelf tilts outward. Nothing is level in this room, but it\u2019s probably better this way, to remind you that life isn\u2019t fair. The paint job was likely done by a blind, depressed, arthritic and distracted monkey, but I\u2019m sure he tried his best. All you can ask for is love.<\/h5>\n
In Brussels in 2003, I had a musty room near the train station, in a hotel mainly patronized by morose and prune faced Arabs. Two years later, my wife and I somehow survived three nights in Edinburgh\u2019s Three Sisters, where all through the early hours, drunkards howled, laughed and staggered in the hallway, just outside our thin door. We felt like these blokes and birds were all in the same room with us. Worse, the bed was so lumpy, we had to sleep on the floor. It was a lovely city, though, one of my favorites.<\/h5>\n
In El Paso in 2006, I paid $35 for a room with no toilet at the dingy Gardner Hotel (where John Dillinger once stayed!). My sheet had cigarette holes.<\/h5>\n
Compared to all that, my Nha Trang suite is a Medici Palace, and who knows, maybe some Vietnamese gangster once slept here as well.<\/h5>\n
\"\"<\/a>Twenty years ago, I had my beat-up glasses stolen on the beach in Nha Trang. Life was desperate then. This city is now a stylish<\/a><\/span> resort attracting throngs of tourists, mostly Russians<\/span><\/a> and Chinese.<\/h5>\n
White T-shirt on a tallish Chinese, \u201cWE ALL START OUT AS STRANGERS.\u201d Another dude, \u201cBEAUTIFUL HELL<\/span><\/a>,\u201d with a beach scene, crudely sketched in black.<\/h5>\n
Chinese come here to be massaged<\/span><\/a> and cheaply stuff themselves with Cantonese dishes. It\u2019s almost like home, but much warmer, and more exotic than Hainan. Chinese see Vietnamese as wayward cousins. So close to Chinese, Vietnamese can\u2019t stand them, and I\u2019ll probably get beaten up in a minute for even writing that. Ukrainians are not Russians, Catalonians are not Spaniards and Scots are not English, etc.<\/h5>\n
With beaucoup cash to be made, everyone gets along in Nha Trang, at least on the surface, so there are even Hungarian, Swiss, Armenian, Caucasian, Uzbek\/Tajik<\/span><\/a>, Turkish, Greek, Egyptian, Argentinian and Mexican restaurants. Miss Universe 2008 was held here.<\/h5>\n
Nha Trang is served by Cam Ranh Airport, just down the road. There are direct flights from 33 Chinese cities, and four Russian ones, including Irkutsk in Siberia. It\u2019s 3-degree Fahrenheit there right now, compared to 82 in Nha Trang. Where would you rather be?<\/h5>\n
Solzhenitsyn, \u201cYou could count on a month with nowhere to go for a warm, not so much as a dog kennel. You wouldn\u2019t even be able to light a fire out in the open\u2014where would the fuel come from? Your only hope would be to dig, dig, dig, for all you were worth.\u201d<\/h5>\n
Translator H.T. Willetts did one hell of a job, for sure, \u201cStanding there to be counted through the gate of an evening, back in camp after a whole day of buffeting wind, freezing cold, and an empty belly, the zek longs for his ladleful of scalding-hot watery evening soup as for rain in time of drought. He could knock it back in a single gulp. For the moment that ladleful means more to him than freedom, more than his whole past life, more than whatever life is left to him.\u201d<\/h5>\n
OK, OK, so present day Siberia is no gulag, but it might as well be, compared to paradisal Nha Trang, and that\u2019s why half of the Russian Far East are lying on the beach here, it seems. Sated by sun and sea, they can gorge on pelmeni, borsch, chebureki and fried potatoes with mushroom, etc., at dozens of local restaurants.<\/h5>\n
Red Caf\u00e9\u2019s menu<\/span><\/a> is in Russian<\/span><\/a> only, and the owner speaks no English or Vietnamese. You order by pointing at ambiguous photos, but since everything is pretty damn good<\/a><\/span>, there\u2019s no anxiety. In his faded dress shirt and jean shorts, the lanky owner, Anton, looks at you speechlessly with genuine concern.<\/h5>\n
\"\"<\/a>Red Caf\u00e9 is also a shrine<\/span><\/a> to Russian patriotism. On one wall, there are framed photos of Stalin, Khrushchev, Breshnev, Andropov, Chernenko, Gorbachev, Yeltsin, Medvedev and Putin.<\/h5>\n
On another wall, there\u2019s a red velvet flag<\/a><\/span> with Lenin\u2019s famous profile, and this exhortation, \u201c\u201d\u041f\u041e\u0414 \u0417\u041d\u0410\u041c\u0415\u041d\u0415\u041c \u041c\u0410\u0420\u041a\u0421\u0418\u0417\u041c\u0410-\u041b\u0415\u041d\u0418\u041d\u0418\u0417\u041c\u0410, \u041f\u041e\u0414 \u0420\u0423\u041a\u041e\u0412\u041e\u0414\u0421\u0422\u0412\u041e\u041c \u041a\u041e\u041c\u041c\u0423\u041d\u0418\u0421\u0422\u0418\u0427\u0415\u0421\u041a\u041e\u0419 \u041f\u0410\u0420\u0422\u0418\u0418 \u2013 \u0412\u041f\u0415\u0420\u0415\u0414, \u041a \u041f\u041e\u0411\u0415\u0414\u0415 \u041a\u041e\u041c\u041c\u0423\u041d\u0418\u0417\u041c\u0410!\u201d [\u201cWORKERS OF THE WORLD, UNITE! UNDER THE BANNER OF MARXISM-LENINISM, UNDER THE LEADERSHIP OF THE COMMUNIST PARTY \u2013 FORWARD TO THE VICTORY OF COMMUNISM!\u201d]<\/h5>\n
Communism is well dead across Vietnam, and nowhere more so than in hedonistic Nha Trang. One evening, I went to Killed Kenny<\/span><\/a> Bar, a Russian hangout. The barkeep wore a Liverpool jersey and spoke a reasonable English. On TV was the Liverpool game from two days previous, a very narrow victory over Monterey of the Mexican League. He just had to see it again.<\/h5>\n
A native of Chukotka, that Russian region that nearly touches Alaska, he\u2019d lived in Norilsk, Smolensk, Moscow and Saint Petersburg before landing in Nha Trang, just a year ago.<\/h5>\n
\u201cHow do you like Vietnam?\u201d I asked.<\/h5>\n
\u201cOh, great place, great place! So beautiful, and the people are so friendly.\u201d<\/h5>\n
\u201cAnd perfect weather, too.\u201d<\/h5>\n
\u201cYes, yes, perfect weather!\u201d<\/h5>\n
\"\"<\/a>All around Nha Trang, however, there are snowy images to celebrate Christmas. At Ho\u00e0 Thu\u1eadn [Harmony] Parish Church<\/span><\/a>, for example, there is an image of a snow-capped mountain, a snowman and some Swiss ch\u00e2tel, nearly entombed in snow<\/a><\/span>. Its nativity scene<\/span><\/a> is flecked with cotton, simulating snow. Having never seen snow, most Vietnamese would rather be in Siberia right now.<\/h5>\n
Sitting at some bar I don\u2019t even know the name of, I\u2019m listening to a disco version of \u201cRudolph the Red Nose Reindeer.\u201d You might as well point a Kalashnikov at my head.<\/h5>\n
There are many Vietnamese Christmas songs, actually, with most written during the Vietnam War. To give you a taste, I translate a portion of \u201cCon qu\u1ef3 l\u1ea1y ch\u00faa tr\u00ean tr\u1eddi\u201d:<\/h5>\n
Kneeling, I pray to God in the sky,
\nLet me see the one I love.
\nI\u2019ve suffered enough in life.
\nFrom childhood, I\u2019ve tasted much bitterness.
\nI\u2019ve been impoverished for twenty odd years.
\nWith so many empty dreams, I have nothing.
\nOh God! Oh God!<\/h5>\n
Merry Christmas, everyone.<\/h5>\n
Linh Dinh\u2019s<\/em><\/strong> latest book is Postcards from the End of America<\/span><\/a>. He maintains a regularly updated photo blog<\/span><\/a><\/em><\/h5>\n

 <\/p>\n

Source<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Communism is well dead across Vietnam, and nowhere more so than where Linh Dinh reports from, hedonistic Nha Trang.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":146,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[61],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-199745","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-Commentary"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/199745","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/146"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=199745"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/199745\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":199754,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/199745\/revisions\/199754"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=199745"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=199745"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=199745"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}