Qui Nhon, Tet 2001
Once again I'm out at the train station queuing up with bazillions of Tet holiday travellers all of us with the same goal of booking a seat on the next train heading north. The concept of first come first serve, orderly lined up is lost on many of my fellow travellers. As I'm elbows out of the way by a little lady, a third older than me, six inches shorter and half my girth. I claw my way through the throng to have the ticket window folks tell me “no seat, come back tomorrow.” Three days in a row this has been repeated. I walk away making a silent vow that by hook or crook I'll get me a seat on tomorrows outbound train. I'm not sure how to do crook so that leaves hook. Hook it is and on my return to Qui Nhon I quickly hook the night security guard for a early morning (really early,5:00 am) train station trip on the back of his motorbike and for for him to be my stand in for a ticket on that mornings train. Anyway, I hope that is what we agree too as my Vietnamese is zilch, and his English is only slightly better. Success. Three hours later I'm stretched out on my hard sleeper bunk chugging on to Hue. The train is packed,.The conductor and his helpers line up little plastic stools down the isles to seat the over flow, within an hour I've gained three or four people seating against me on my bunk, as I pretend to sleep. The bunks were laid out, three on each side of the cabin, with the top one at least six foot off the floor. So it’s understandable why everyone got so attached to my lower bunk.
It’s interesting how intuitive some Vietnamese are, not one person with in my eye sight speaks any English, all the station announcements crackle out in Vietnamese and I'm worried I'll miss my stop. Not to worry, just before the train arrived at the stop, there is frenzy of movement as my backpack is pulled out of its storage spot and my pack and I are guided to the train door as it rolls to a stop in Hue. The window of my car is lined with smiling, waving Vietnamese as the train pulls away.
I've made several trips over the Tet holiday and it’s always crazy, especially for foreigners. While my Vietnamese friends seem to thrive on the craziness. This is the biggest holiday in Vietnam, Vietnamese living over seas come home for the holiday. Many businesses close and the employees head to the countryside to spend the holiday week with family or just travel. What looks like chaos to foreigners like me, is part of Tet’s fun for the Vietnamese. Reduced hours or closed restaurants and stores, everything at premium prices is all ok “it’s Tet!”
Finely getting away from Qui Nhon felt good, not that it’s a bad place and I had a nice room in a hotel on the beach where the friendly managing director gave me a special rate after I told her my story and that I had been a way for 33 years. Funny as time passes, some memories get out of focus so I was there, not for the beach but to re visit my old duty station at Phu Cat Air Base. Not surprising but disappointing nevertheless, as it was hardly recognizable, except for the remnants of the revetments on the flight line. Of course, the gun towers, F100’s, Caribou cargo planes and the assortment of helicopters I remembered were long gone. The barracks (huts really) we lived in, the gun tower at gate by the end of my hut, all the make shift beer bars constructed of bamboo and tin, with beaded entryways off base by the main gate, of course gone also.. The makeshift road that ran by my hut where on many a morning I would a wake to the rumbling of tanks is now a paved and well maintained motor way taking you directly to Qui Nhon. Maybe memories like I have of my time are are meant to fade, so the experiences doesn't drag us down. Anyway, it was good to be on my way again.
