Các bạn thân mến, buổi workshop hôm nay của Tango Hanoi sẽ tạm nghỉ nhân dịp Giáng sinh,

Please be informed that today’s workshop will be temporarily cancelled for Christmas night,

Merry Christmas to you all

Tango Hanoi

Tôi Đi Tìm Tôi (3)

Trong đêm tối, con Tầu lăn chập chạp,

<Ga Yên Bái> qua rồi, còn ít Trạm nữa mà thôi,

Ga Hà nội ở cuối con đường sắt,

Đường Sắt và Con Tầu vẫn chậm-tiến như xưa,

Ghé một nhân-viên coi Toa Tầu tôi tâm-sự,

Lương-bổng Anh thì theo chỉ số hoa hồng,

Có nghĩa là độ 250 <ngàn VNĐ> mỗi chuyến,

Một vé <Tầu có nệm> du-khách chỉ trả 2 trăm,

Sang-trọng nữa, độ 3 trăm là cao nhất,

Còn Toa xoàng chỉ tốn 80 chục ngàn,

Tôi hỏi Anh mấy Chuyến Đi một tháng?

Anh trả lời, chép miệng, độ 5-6 lần,

Một Triệu Rưởi VNĐ tính ra quá rẻ,

Theo Dollar, chỉ độ 90-100 mỹ kim thôi!

Tôi thấy Anh ta buồn, đầy ức chế,

Mức-lương này gia-đình Anh chỉ đủ ăn thôi!

Tôi hỏi Anh được mấy con tất cả?

Do-dự trả lời, Em có 6 đứa con,

Thế Chị ấy có bán-buôn gì không nhỉ?

Buôn-bán nhỏ nhoi trong một Xóm Bàn Cờ,

Khu Văn-Hoá chúng Em, khu nghèo nhất Nước!

Chắc còn lâu mới hiện đại Chú à!

Toa Tầu vừa huýt còi như thông báo,

Tạm biệt Anh ta, tôi nằm mãi suy tư,

Nghe tiếng Gà sáng tinh sương đang gáy,

Toa Tầu sau, nghe tiếng Lợn ủn-ỉn, gầm-gừ,

Cái ấn tượng Quê Hương mình nổi bật!

Buổi sáng Dân Mình gồng gánh đi buôn,

Còi Tầu tiếp theo báo tới Ga Hànội,

Đánh thức chú Em đang còn ngáy ngon-lành,

Sao Anh không ngủ thêm cho đỡ mệt?

Tôi trả lời, Anh không mệt đâu em,

Con Tầu rít lên tiếng phanh đậu lại,

Khách Bộ Hành nối tiếp xuống Sân Ga,

Cả trăm chiếc <Xe Ôm> đổ-xô và chạy lại,

<Các Bố> về đâu, em chở các Bố đi?

Em Hiền tôi vẫy bàn tay từ chối,

Chúng tôi chờ vì đã gọi chiếc Taxi,

Anh Xe Ôm, bĩu môi, và lắp bắp,

Taxi à, giờ này Nó <chém chết>, Bố ơi!

Tôi bật cười giọng sao chua ngoa Hànội,

Úi-giời ơi, Taxi à, ở đó mà chờ!

<Cuối cùng thì> Chúng Tôi cũng lên Xe Ôm đó,

Hai Anh Chàng xe Ôm trẻ hớn-hở bình-thường!

Anh <xe Ôm> của tôi bắt đầu hỏi chuyện,

Bố ở đâu, Việt Kiều ở Mỹ về?

Sao Anh biết, tôi ở Lào Cai xuống,

Úi giời ơi, cháu biết là Bố Việt-Kiều,

Kìa, trông cái Quần Bố, Kaki 4 túi,

Ai mà chả nhìn ra Bố <đúng hiệu>Việt-Kiều,

Tôi bật cười vì nghe lời Bà Vợ,

Anh phải mặc vào, không Nó móc-túi rất siêu!

Về đến Nhà Hiền, tôi móc tiền trả,

Tặng thêm Anh ta một tờ giấy 5 ngàn,

Anh Xe Ôm trợn mắt nói, Bố ngon thật,

Cảm ơn nhiều Bố nhé, chúc Bố vui-chơi!

Này Anh, chớ hiều lầm ông Chú nhé!

Tôi không Vui Chơi, về thăm Gia-Đình thôi,

Tôi và Hiền vẫy tay chào 2 <anh Xe Ôm lặng lẽ>,

Hànội đã thức dậy rồi, khu Văn-Hoá Thanh-Xuân,

Hàng quán đã bầy biện xong những <Món Ăn Buổi Sáng>,

Chú Hiền hỏi, Anh muốn ăn <Phở Gà> không?

Em biết một chỗ rất ngon không chê được!

Ừ Chú dẫn đi, Anh và Chú đi ăn,

Rồi mua một <bát về> cho Đông ăn nữa,

Mấy ngày sau, tôi bảo <Hiền liên-lạc> hết Họ-Hàng,

<Mời một Bữa> vừa Ra Mắt vừa Tiễn-Chân một thể,

Theo kế-hoạch gia-đình, tôi chuẩn-bị đủ vừa <Ngân Sách Chuyến Đi>,

Cũng vì lý-do đó, Tôi không thể <Về Làng xa quá>,

Hiền gật đầu nói, Em bố-trí cho Anh,

Em có đủ số phone nhà và di-động,

Ở Hànôi,< còn gia-đình Huy, Jolee>, hai cháu Ellitot & Anie,

Nhưng rất tiếc không thăm gia-đình Huy được,

Jolee Elliot, Anie đi học còn Huy <công tác ở Thái Lan>,

Chỉ có <Họ Hàng tôi và Vợ Chồng Hiền> cùng các con trong Bữa-Tiệc,

Tôi liên-lạc cháu Qúy-Hạc tôi ở Miền Nam,

<Xong Bữa Tiệc>, hôm sau, tôi sẽ đáp <Air Vietnam> thăm cháu,

Điều mà tôi rất quan-tâm là cháu, <đứa con trai>,

Quý Hạc thích Việt-Nam vì DNA, Bản Chất?

Về Nguồn mà, tôi thường khuyến-khích không ngừng,

Tôi nghe tin, Qúy-Hạc có vấn-đề trong Hội-Nhập,

Vì Môi-Trường này chưa mở cửa hoàn toàn,

Quý Hạc đam mê là công trình Vô-Vị-Lợi,

Một thành viên của Hội Xã Toàn-Cầu (Global Village Foundation),

Nhưng hôm qua, cháu đã thất vọng,< nộp đơn từ chức>,

Khiến tôi lo và muốn gặp Qúy-Hạc ngay,

Sau Bữa Tiệc <Ra Mắt-Tiễn Chân> của Họ-Hàng quen thuộc,

Tôi từ-giã mọi người và gia-đình Hiền < Tôi đáp Chuyến Air Vietnam>,

Buổi sáng, không-khí trong xanh, bầu trời Hànội,

Tôi bâng-khuâng, bao kỷ-niệm để lại đằng sau!

Khó phân tích được <Tôi là Ai> ngay trong <Chuyến Về Đất Mẹ>?

Mảnh đất Cội-Nguồn cũng khai-phá, có Tổ-Tiên tôi,

Ngàn Cánh Đồng Lúa xanh rì như <ngàn Thảm Cỏ>!

Tháp Rùa Gươm vẫn im lặng bóng hững-hờ?

Chùa Một Cột đứng cô đơn từ giã,

Trong lòng tôi bao Cảm Xúc dạt dào!

Mặt nước Hồ Tây lăn-tăn làn sóng bạc!

Hôm qua, tôi cùng Hiền cưỡi một Thiên-Nga!

Như một đoạn Cuối Phim và kết luận,

Giã-Biệt rồi, Lào Cai, Hànội quá thương yêu!

Điểm tới đến, Saigon xưa, 34 năm xa-cách!

Vẫn mơ màng khi Tiếng Máy phiêu diêu,

Đang trên Mây, cao-độ trên 10 ngàn thước,

<Con Chim Sắt VN>, do phi-công Việt mình lái vẫn bay,

Tôi mở mắt nhìn mấy cô Tiếp-Viên chiêu-đãi,

Quần trắng tinh, và chiếc Áo Dài hồng,

Trong tiềm thức tôi lung linh nhiều kỷ-niệm,

Tôi mơ màng nghĩ đến thuở trẻ trung,

Một ngày, bọn chúng-tôi thoát khỏi Trường Võ-Bị,

Cầu Hàng-Không cất cánh vẫn rõ không quên,

<Tôi chọn Đại Học>, hành trang & sách đèn lên Dalạt,

Ấn-tượng trong hồn, <đầy lãng mạn> các bóng dáng Tiếp-Viên,

Còn mơ màng nhiều ảnh-hình trong ký ức,

Chiếc Micro, âm-thanh đã phát tiếng yêu cầu,

Tôi nghe thấy tiếng Cô Tiếp-Viên chiêu đãi,

Giọng nhẹ-nhàng, xin qúy khách <xiết chặt lại> giây đeo,

Tầu sắp đáp sân bay Phi-Trường Tân Sơn-Nhất,

Nhìn ra ngoài, tôi lướt mắt cảnh Phi-Trường,

Hoàn-toàn xa lạ, không ấn-tượng nào tôi nhớ,

<Sách hành-lý vừa ra>, Qúy-Hạc và Hảo đã gọi cell phone,

Dơ tay vẫy, tôi nhận ra ngay tức-khắc,

Nhìn Hảo, tôi thấy Hảo chẳng khác xưa,

Còn Qúy-Hạc, một thanh-niên để râu và búi-tóc,

Thật bất-ngờ, tôi lại tưởng một Japanese Sumo,

Nét Hội-Nhập đầu tiên, tôi nhận ra <Con tôi lệch lạc>?

Một thân hình cường tráng thích thể thao,

Nay thân-thể béo phì, để râu, và đen-đủi,

Sức khoẻ không còn nét Cường-Tráng, Tinh Anh!

Tôi ngần ngại ôm chầm thân Qúy Hạc,

Mà lòng buồn, khắc khoải lẫn băn khoăn!

Trọng Thùy Sơn

12/09

(Còn Tiếp)

Gửi các bạn yêu thích Tango tại Hà Nội,

Anh Hưng, một người bạn Tango gắn bó và thân thiết với phong trào Tango tại Hà Nội sẽ tới Việt Nam vào dịp Noel. Với hơn 10 năm nhảy Tango và phong cách milonguero tinh tế, anh Hưng rất muốn đem các hiểu biết của mình về tango để chia sẻ với tất cả các bạn trong thời gian 1 tuần lưu tại Hà Nội (23/12 đến 29/12).

Anh Hưng đã nhờ Tango Hanoi đứng ra tổ chức các workshop từ 23/12 đến 28/12:

- Thời gian: từ 19.00 đến 22.00 các ngày trong tuần

- Địa điểm: Quan Hoa studio, 20 ngõ 165 đường Cầu Giấy, Hà Nội

- Phí: Anh Hưng sẽ hướng dẫn các bạn hoàn toàn miễn phí. Các bạn tham gia workshop chỉ phải chia sẻ tiền phòng tập.

- Đối tượng tham gia: tất cả các bạn, kể cả các bạn chưa từng học và làm quen với Tango, đều có thể đăng ký và tham gia theo học.

Lưu ý: anh Hưng sẽ tập trung dạy tango ở tư thế áp sát (close embrace), kể cả đối với các bạn mới bắt đầu theo học.

Thời gian và địa điểm của các workshop vào cuối tuần sẽ được thông báo cụ thể sau, các bạn vui lòng liên hệ lại để được thông tin chi tiết hơn về workshop: Ms Ly: 0904350538/ Ms Hà: 0906268558

Hẹn gặp lại các bạn và Tango!

Tango Hanoi

*****

Dear Tango friends,

Anh Hung, one of our special friends, who has close relationship and valuable contribution to Tango development in Hanoi, will be back to Vietnam this Christmas season. During 1 week (23/12 – 29/12) staying in Hanoi, anh Hung wants to share with all Hanoi tango dancers his 10 years experience in dancing Tango, especially milonguero style.

Tango Hanoi had the honour of organising these workshops for all of you within the week from 23rd Dec to 28th Dec :

- Time: from 19.00 to 22.00, every week day

- Location: Quan Hoa studio, No 20 lane 165, Cau Giay Street, Hanoi

- Fee: anh Hung will provide all workshops at no charge, the participants will pay for rental cost only.

- Participants: anyone at any level, including people totally new to tango.

Note: The workshops will be mainly on CLOSE EMBRACE even with new beginner.

Time for workshops at weekends will be informed later, pls keep intouch for more information: Ms Ly: 0904350538/ Ms Hana: 0906268558

See you at the workshops,

Tango Hanoi

The New York Times reported that American Peter W. Galbraith, the United Nation’s number two man in Afghanistan, proposed having the White House replace Afghan President Hamid Karzai shortly after that country’s troubled presidential election.  It is unknown if the White House or the Administration was directly involved with this scheme since they have plausible deniability and have since sacked Galbraith.

This Karzai effort seems eerily reminiscent of a coup plotted by the Kennedy Administration in 1963 to overthrow then South Vietnamese leader Ngo Dinh Diem.  That miscalculation was one step in the ladder that led to America’s involvement in the Vietnam War.

There are other similarities between the Kennedy and Obama administrations.  Both Presidents were/are young when elected, both were/are charismatic, and both brought newcomers into their administrations with little real-world experience.

The Kennedy Administration was involved in serious international crises earlier in that presidency.  This included the Bay of Pigs invasion, the Cuban missile crisis, and our entry into the Vietnam War.  The Obama Administration is now in the process of escalating the Afghanistan War and has other significant international challenges, including the North Korean and Iranian nukes.  Hopefully Obama will fare better than Kennedy did in foreign affairs.

There is a huge difference between John Kennedy and Barack Obama.  While Kennedy was a liberal by modern standards, his views were so far to the right of Obama that he would be considered a “Tea Partier” in today’s Democratic Party.  How things have changed.  The Democrats are now controlled by the radical Left and the Republicans are controlled by blind ambition.  Sad!

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.

Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.

My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn’t loud, and it wasn’t too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear
Perhaps just a cough, I didn’t quite know,
Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.

My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

“What are you doing?” I asked without fear,
“Come in this moment, it’s freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!”

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts…
To the window that danced with a warm fire’s light
Then he sighed and he said “Its really all right,

I’m out here by choice. I’m here every night.
So that your family can sleep without fright.
It’s my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.

No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I’m proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at ‘Pearl on a day in December,”
Then he sighed, “That’s a Christmas ‘Gram always remembers”

My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ‘Nam’,
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I’ve not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he’s sure got her smile.

Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue… an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.

I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..

Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.”
“So go back inside,” he said, “harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I’ll be all right.”

“But isn’t there something I can do, at the least,
“Give you money,” I asked, “or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you’ve done,
For being away from your wife and your son.”

Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
“Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we’re gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.

For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.”
PLEASE, would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our U.S. Service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities.

Let’s try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.

LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
30th Naval Construction Regiment
OIC, Logistics Cell One
Al Taqqadum, Iraq

Obama And The Global Elite

The Tonka Report Editor’s Note: Had to take a few breaks, but I couldn’t stop watching it… – SJH

Tôi Đi Tìm Tôi (2)

Tôi cùng Hiền, em tôi đã đến Ga,

Lấy vé Tầu Đêm đi Lào-Cai Chuyến tối,

Buổi sáng thật đông người mua vé <đáp Sapa>,

Thoáng nhìn, hành khách, ai cũng đang vội-vã,

Non nửa là Khách Du-Lịch và Tây Ba-Lô,

Chú Hiền bảo Mùa Thu nhiều Du Khách,

Lên miền này Tầu đều đỗ ga Lào-Cai,

Rồi từ đó, phải đi xe lên <Sapa cách 25 cây số>,

Cảnh núi rừng <Cao Nguyên> rất đẹp nên thơ,

Ở Sapa mùa này tiết trời đã lạnh,

Nên Du-Khách thường mặc Áo Ấm trên người,

Chúng tôi trở về đi thăm hồ Hoàn-Kiếm,

Trên xe ôm, thằng em lái rất bồn-chồn!

Có những lúc xe quay đầu ngược lại,

Cứ U turn, 360 độ rất là thường,

Mũ bảo hiểm thằng em đưa tôi đội,

Xô nghiêng sang bên trái rất bất thường!

Cứ mỗi bận nó quay xe đổi hướng,

Các Xe kia đều tôn trọng nhường đường,

Thật kỳ diệu dân Thăng Long Đổi Mới!

Lái Xe Ôm toàn Tay Lái thiên tài!

Vợ còn ngủ, theo thói quen thức trễ,

Tôi đã mời cùng Nó để đi ăn,

Bữa Ăn Sáng, khu Văn-Hoá, khá nhiều thực-phẩm,

Bún Vịt, cháo Gà, Phở, Bánh Cuốn Thanh-Trì,

Mùi thực phẩm theo gió trời tươi mát

Từ đằng xa, tôi ngửi thấy rất thèm!

Chiều về, cô Em dâu bố-trí thêm <nhiều món>!

Hết món đặc-sản này lại đến món kia!

Ốc Lá Gừng, Canh Rau Đay, Bún Chả..

Gia-vị quen thuộc này, tôi tận-hưởng say mơ!

Trái Cây Hànội của những Bà Quang Gánh,

Không thiếu thứ gì, cả Cam, Táo Florida,

Cái thích nhất là Tiền Đô-La hoán đổi,

Một trăm USD, thành triệu tám như chơi!

Lương hưu-trí tiền dolla về Việt-Nam vung vít!

Ăn cả ngày, 3 bữa, tốn độ 5 đôn,

Ăn món Vịt Măng, cô Em dâu khoản-đãi,

Trên Khoang Tầu tôi còn ngửi mùi thơm,

Chiếc Tầu Hoả Đêm lắc lư, chuyển bánh,

Hướng Lào Cai, sao dào dạt tâm tình!

Không bao lâu tôi sẽ vào thành-phố nhỏ,

Biên giới Tầu, Cốc Lếu, sông Nam Thi!

Cháu rể Thành mang Xe Ôm ra đón,

Cùng bạn mình, Hồng, đã sẵn ở Ga,

Tôi và Hiền chuẩn bị đeo hành lý,

Đã tới Ga rồi, Còi Tầu-hiệu vang lên..

Buổi sáng tinh mơ, màn sương còn lạnh,

Ngoài xa kìa, hai cháu đã vẫy tay!

Từ Ga nhỏ trên Xe Ôm về Bắc-Thắng,

Đường quanh co, lên xuống Dốc bất-ngờ,

Xã Xuân-Giao cách nhà Ga 12 cây số,

Đang hiện dần ở chân núi xa xa,

Thời hiện đại, con đường lên Sơn Cước,

Lát nhựa đường từng đoạn cũng dễ qua,

Song từ Con Lộ chính vào trong Xóm,

Khu ở Chị tôi thật bình-dị, nghèo nàn!

Một con đường nhỏ, gập ghềnh, len lỏi,

Một ngôi nhà nông trại rất đơn sơ,

Con Trâu mẹ dẫn theo con Nghé nhỏ,

Một đàn Gà quang quác nhẩy trong sân,

Đang ăn thóc đứa Cháu tôi vung rắc,

Mấy chú lợn con, ủn ỉn trong Chuồng,

Chiếc Hồ nước, Cá tung trên mặt nước,

Vườn Rau xanh đang quyến luyến ven Tường,

Một Ruộng Lúa đã vàng chưa gặt hết,

Chiếc Xe Ôm phanh lại giữa sân Nhà,

Tôi và Hiền cố vòng chân nhẩy xuống,

Chị tôi kìa, một Bà Cụ lưng cong!

Đang đứng đón tôi dơ tay chờ đợi,

Bỏ hành-lý xong, ôm chầm lấy Chị tôi!

Trong mừng tủi, Chị Hoan ôm tôi nức-nở!

Hỷ của Chị ơi! Chị đã quá chờ-mong!

Ôi năm tháng sao đoạn trường trắc trở?

Nửa thế kỷ rồi, Chị vẫn nhớ Em luôn!

Vẫn ngậm ngùi, lệ rơi trên đôi mắt!

Tôi không ngờ mình đã khóc lúc nào!

Ngày tháng cũ, một Gia Đình êm ấm!

Chị Em tôi là những Kẻ tha hương!

Tôi dìu Chị tôi vào trong nhà khăng-khít,

Ôm người tôi, đôi mắt nhíu, dáng nhìn,

Chị đã khóc, mắt đỏ ngầu thương cảm,

Thôi Chị ơi, nay Em đã về rồi!

Chị Em ta sau Bể Dâu, nay đoàn tụ!

Đừng buồn Chị nhé, Chị yêu-qúy của em!

Hãy tin tưởng vào Ngày Mai bừng sáng!

Bữa Cơm Chiều đã dọn bởi cháu Nga,

Chiều hôm ấy, Chị tôi ăn nhiều lắm,

Cứ nhìn tôi mà chan chứa lệ nhòa!

Được giới thiệu mọi người khi ăn uống,

Tôi không ngờ, thêm cháu chắt thân tình!

Cháu gái Nga đã 3 đứa con, <2 trai 1 gái>,

Cháu rể Thành, nhà nông giỏi một thanh-niên!

Chắt Dũng đang học nghề ở Khu Công-Nghiệp!

Chắt Vân tôi, một thiếu nữ đẹp, học-sinh!

Chắt đã lớp 10, Trường cách xa <5 cây số>!

Phải đạp xe mỗi ngày, chắt vẫn tươi-vui!

Còn một chắt Tuấn Anh, đang còn bé,

Tuấn tú, khôi-ngô, và rất thích chơi Games,

Nhà Chị Tôi khuất trong một Xóm nhỏ,

Chiếc Cầu Tiêu ngồi xổm vẫn hãy còn!

Một Phòng Tắm lộ thiên, <không khí trời> tươi mát,

Nước tắm phải cần một Nồi nước xôi,

Tôi chạnh lòng thương Chị tôi qua vật-chất!

Ăn sáng hôm nay, Nga chuẩn-bị món Xôi,

Có cả Giò Chả, Muối Vừng thơm-phức!

Cón cháu rể Thành thì loáy hoáy <những Cốc Cà phê>!

<Chắt Vân & Tuấn Anh quanh co> bên các Ông mới về còn lạ!

Có khách sang, nhìn ra thấy anh-chị Hồng,

Bế cháu sang, chúc Chị Em tôi đoàn-tụ!

Hàng Xóm tương-thân tình cảm rất đậm đà!

Tặng Áo Quần và ít Tiền Nong yểm-trợ,

Trao Chị tôi, Chị cảm xúc ngậm ngùi!

Năm-tháng lâu rồi Tình Chị Em xa cách!

Khiến lòng tôi bứt-rứt, niềm ức-chế khôn nguôi!,

Nhưng phút chót, Không Thời Gian thu hẹp,

Tôi phải giã-từ Chị và Cháu-Chắt thân yêu!

Chuyến Tầu đêm chỉ có <Thành & Hồng> đưa tiễn!

Thành phố Lào Cai, biên-giới Cốc Lếu Tầu,

< Từ đây>, xa vắng Chị Hoan tôi miền Sơn-Cước!

Khát vọng vẫn chưa nguôi một Chuyến Về!

Trên Chuyến Tầu Đêm, tôi trở về Hànội,

Khắc khoải thật nhiều về Định-Mệnh nhiêu khê!

Tôi ao ước một Đũa Thần biến phép,

Làm lại từ đầu một Hạnh-Phúc Chị tôi!

Nghe Chị nói bị Mẹ-Mìn đem đi bán!

Tuổi Thanh Xuân lỡ dở đã nhiều lần!

Tôi cầu-nguyện Chị tôi, cuối đời hạnh phúc,

Bên Gia Đình Con Cái hưởng Tuổi Già!

Còn tôi, lại bay vào khoảng trời Lữ Thứ!

Để lại đằng sau nhiều Kỷ Niệm xót-sa!

Trọng Thùy Sơn – 11/09

(Còn tiếp)

Tomorrow I board a plane back home leaving behind a place and time I’ll never forget. Over the next weeks and months, I’ll look to grow as a person and professional guided by the people I’ve met, places I’ve visited and the food I’ve discovered. I know many of my friends, family and colleagues have followed my journey and I thank you for all your comments and support along the way. I’m not a good story teller and some days it took a lot of thought to post something meaningful on the site. During those times, someone always seemed to pick me up with an e-mail or comment on my blog. I learned a lot about myself here. I learned a lot about people, food and culture. It’s fitting that my trip would culminate as I would meet two very special people during my final two weeks in SE Asia.

I arrived in Saigon December 2. As I often do at night, I left my hotel around 7 pm to grab a bite to eat. I was re-familiarizing myself with the territory when suddenly out of nowhere two young ladies stopped me and asked if I could spend a few minutes with them practicing English. I’m pretty road savvy in SE Asia after several weeks, so I’m a bit guarded when I’m out and about. I could tell they we’re a little nervous asking me, so my heart took over and I agreed to spend a few minutes…like I have a set schedule to keep anyway. We walked over to the park across the street and took a seat on the bench pictured. Anh is a senior studying economics and Hien is also a senior studying banking. As Viet Nam’s economy continues accelerating, students have embraced learning English as a means to secure new jobs in a global market.

Both girls are very intelligent. I admire their dedication to learning English. They spend as much time learning on their own as they do in class. District 1, the commercial hub for Saigon, is generally where all the tourists stay. This of course presents students an opportunity to meet foreign people. After a couple of hours of chatting with the girls, I decided it was finally time for me to eat. They expressed a desire to see me again if I would be interested. It was at that moment I brokered a deal that would enrich my final 2 weeks here in ways words can’t describe. I offered to help them practice English if they would take me to eat local food. Much to my delight, they agreed, so the story began.

Anh & Hien

Anh & Hien picked me up for dinner two nights later. Imagine hopping on the back of a motorbike and cruising the streets of Saigon with 4 million other bikes. It takes special driving skills and there is definitely an art to navigating the streets here. It’s both scary and exciting! The girls took me to an area where I was sure hadn’t seen a tourist in sometime. We sat at in an opened air restaurant on small plastic stools and they ordered food. Of course, no pictures or English, so I invited them to order whatever they wanted. They ordered Snails and Eggs. I like Snails and Eggs so I settled in with a Saigon Bia with Ice. The Snails arrived and we’re approximately the size of a small marble. I would guess a 100 or so served with a safety pin that had been bent so you could dig out the Snail that had been stir-fried with Chile and Garlic. These little guys packed major flavor and I’m sure I swallowed at least at 40! Next came the Egg. I was not prepared for this. A Balut is a fertilized duck or chicken egg with a nearly-developed embryo inside that is boiled and eaten in the shell. It is commonly sold as streetfood in Viet Nam. Let me just say this…it was not easy. I did not take any pictures and will likely only consume this once. However, I think I hold an ace when it comes to unusual foods next time my chef pals bring up the subject.

The next two weeks included numerous trips to markets, restaurants and parks all over the city. Another highlight was visiting Hien’s best friend Ngoc at her home next to the Saigon River. Ngoc offered to prepare me a home cooked meal and I also met her two sisters that share the apartment. I had a really good time! Ngoc cooked a wonderful meal and we enjoyed each others company. I’m very grateful for Hien. Everyday she was excited to show me something new. I saw parts of this city that few tourists are privileged to visit. I also enjoyed helping her speak English. I think it was a great experience for both of us. A real blessing for me. I look forward to seeing my friend again next time I visit Saigon.

So, as my journey ends, I’m excited to be back home! Although, I feel like a part of me will stay here. A trip of a lifetime? Yes.

1. Mizel `With 1700 of his closest friends’

At the end of a speech by Jerusalem Mayor Nir Barkat at the University of Denver about a month ago, the university chancellor, Robert Coombe, took a moment to thank Denver developer Larry Mizel for having facilitated the event (whatever that means). It was a presentation sponsored by the chancellor himself as well as Colorado’s Democratic Governor Bill Ritter. It gave a sense of political influence that Mizel has garnered here in Colorado over the years that Mizel pull it all off. Sitting in the audience, he took a brief bow to a largely applauding and enthusiastic auditorium of spectators.

Just a few years prior, on May 31, 2007, the Mizel Museum, which Mizel and his wife Carol founded, celebrated its 25^th anniversary at the `Wings Over The Rockies’ Air and Space Museum with `1700 of his closest friends’¹ including Denver’ Mayor John Hickenlooper, the publishers of the (then) state’s two largest newspapers, the business and political elite both of the city and the state. And there, Mizel, in his glory and surrounded by friends, supporters, wannabe’s and other power grovelers, he `graciously’ accepted a standing ovation and then presented Denver Mayor John Hickenlooper with museum’s `cultural enrichment’ award, an award given a year later to Denver political broker Norm Brownstein, who once upon a time some 20 years prior, represented Mizel’s MDC during the Silverado Bank scandal.

Larry Mizel has come along way since he somehow avoided indictment in the Silverado Bank scandal of the 1980s. He is probably the second wealthiest person in Colorado after Philip Anschutz, and perhaps the wealthiest Coloradoan whose personal history – although it seems long forgotten – will be forever tied to Silverado. But that was `yesterday’, and yesterday’s gone, rarely mentioned if at all.

Mizel has covered his earlier tracks well.

He and his wife founded the Mizel Museum, which even I have to admit is one of the country’s finest Jewish museums. His reputation as a political fundraiser and `humanitarian’ is legendary. One of the founders of the Simon Wiesenthal Center in Los Angeles, in 2003 he was elected chairman of the board of directors. Norm Brownstein is also on the board. ² In 2006, Mizel’s company, MDC reported $4.8 billion in total revenue.³ Although MDC Holdings reported a net loss for the third quarter of 2007 of $155.4 million, compared to a profit of $48.7 million for that quarter in 2006, still it ranked among the Fortune 500 for the first time in 2005 at No. 466 and has since clung to a spot on the list, at No. 461 for 2007.⁴

Mizel has had a special knack – no genius – for combining his business success with political influence and has long cultivated political contacts both on the state and national level. A stanch Republican, he and wife Carol have been major and generous contributors to Republican candidates. In the recent 2008 presidential contest they `maxed out’ in the contributions to Republican presidential hopeful, John McCain. But McCain is only the last in a long line of politically high level close contacts with both parties.

When necessity demands it (as mentioned below), unpleasant has it might be for such a staunch reactionary, Mizel will support Democrats too. And the state’s Democrats have proven that they don’t want to wander too far away from his main political themes or interests. They are not adverse to do his bidding.

Mizel’s politics are decidedly to the right and has been since the Reagan days, a strong supporter of the two fundamental pillars of Republican (and neo-con) ideology: deregulation of the economy domestically and support for a strong US military posture abroad. His is a rightwing agenda in the deepest sense of the term and he has been in a position to bend the state’s politicians to his will – be they Republicans or Democrats – for some time now. Lopsided support for Israel, support for the 2003 US invasion of Iraq, and an almost religious adherence to the US `war on terrorism’ are all a part of equation. Few initiatives give a sense of just how far to the right Mizel’s politics go as `The CELL’ – `The Center for Empowered Living and Learning’ – as it is called, an outgrowth of the Mizel Museum, located in downtown Denver

2. The CELL - `The Center for Empowered Living and Learning’

It wasn’t even worth my $4.50 senior discounted ticket, but I wanted to see `the Cell’ and so I held my nose, paid the money and went through what is referred to as `an exhibit’. `The CELL’ stands for the `Center for Empowered Living and Learning’ in Denver, a title which, appropriately enough, tells visitors little of its content.

Sounds like some kind of new age charter school. Rather it is a series of exhibits on terrorism, located as a part of the Denver Cultural Complex right next to the new art museum and library in downtown Denver. `The CELL’ is a permanent exhibit connected to Denver’s Mizel Museum and is the acknowledged brainchild of that museum’s founder and most significant donors, Larry and Carol Mizel.  

Opened to the public at the beginning of September this year, it aims to `educate people about the roots of terrorism’ which can strike `anyone, anytime, anywhere’. To heighten the drama – although it has no practical meaning whatsoever, all photography is forbidden.

It is set up in such a way that visitors go through one `cell’ or room at a time – where they are bombarded by a series of multimedia presentations culminating in a simulated `terrorist bomb explosion’ which is meant to scare the shit out of 12 year old (and 65 year old) kids.

But before this grand climax, there are a series of earlier `cells’ or `room’. Visitors are stuck in each room until a door to the next one mysteriously opens. Worse, visitors can only go from one exhibit `cell’ to another after what look like steel doors open permitting people to go from overdone one multi-media assault after another. Every room has not one but 15 or 20 computer screens, mostly with images of Palestinian and Lebanese (Hezbollah) fighters and quotes from Obama Bin Laden and Hasan Nasrallah.

It all starts in a room with 22 screens (maybe more - it was pretty confusing counting them) all showing pictures of political neanderthals considered `counter-terrorism’ experts like Brian Jenkins. Jenkins has nothing short of impeccable credentials for a thug, so his introduction to the terrorism museum is important. He served with the 7th Special Forces Group when the United States invaded the Dominican Republic in 1965 and then went on to serve with the 5th Special Forces Group in Vietnam. Later Jenkins was Deputy Director of the private security firm `Kroll Associates’ and is now a special advisor to the president of the Rand Corporation.

But Jenkins’ introduction on all 22 screens is just the beginning of  onesided `journey’

Each chamber or room in `the CELL’ has a series of `incidents’, starting off, not surprisingly with the hijacking (and blowing up) of an El Al plane in 1968, followed by sequence `reminding’ visitors that in that same wondrous decade, some anti-Vietnam War activists too, turned to terrorism and bombing, Oklahoma City, the Environmental Liberation Front torching of Vail ski resorts, the Sept 11 bombing of the NYC twin towers. So in one fell swoop – from the outset – a vague but powerful connection is made between anti-Vietnam war activism, environmentalism and September 11.  as if somehow all of these incidents were `related’…and intimately connected. And one must presume in the mind of Larry Mizel, who funded most of this, they are…

Needless to say, the definition of terrorism presented here is problematic, selective, narrowly defined and biased to the nth degree. No mention is made of state sponsored violence which could easily qualify as terrorism such as

• 3 million Vietnamese who died during the Vietnam War at the hands of the US military,
• nor of Israel’s military incursion into Gaza last year about this time with its civilian casualties that the United Nations is investigating,
• nor of the US support of the Indonesian military coup that led to the execution of perhaps a million people in the 1960,
• nor the extensive French use of torture on a truly massive scale in Algeria,
• nor of the US role in the overthrow of Salvadore Allende
• or its support for the torturers in Chile, Argentina, Brazil, Guatamala or El Salvador.
• Abu Ghraib, Guantanemo, the invasion and permanent occupation of Iraq,
• little places in Lebanon with names like Sabra and Chatilla are overlooked.

But other than these minor historical details, the museum is quite objective.

The highlight of the CELL `colletion’ though, – my favorite room by far – is a room where on three – or was it four – sides a series of large screens show a serene Denver Labor Day scene, the  `Taste of Colorado’ where Denverites can stuff their faces with food from all over the world without spending even a milli-second thinking about the working people of this state whose day this used to be. Still the music is good and the atmosphere, if politically benign, is relaxed. Just as a visitor is getting into the spirit, wondering if they should try the Ethiopian bread or a really hot tamale – Kaboom…a simulated bomb goes off which one hears with enhanced quadraphonic sound so that you can hear it from three – or was it four – sides. This is followed by gruesome, if accurate scenes of the victims of terrorist bombings that goes on for several minutes.

But here again, the pictures are selective -

• Russians attacked by Chechens,
• Israeli’s attacked by suicide bombers,
• Peruvians attacked by the Tupac Amaros.
• No pictures of kids in Gaza getting picked off by US made bombs dropped from F-16s,
• no shots of US soldiers picking off civilians in Iraq or torturing them at Abu Ghraib
• or of US drones doing what they do best – destroying wedding parties in Afghanistan,
• or of German soldiers – who haven’t had a chance for neigh 64 years – of doing the same thing.

Again, other than these minor historical details, the museum is quite objective.

3. Larry and Norm, and Michael (Bennet) and Ed (Perlmutter) and Bill (Ritter)

From my humble perspective, this `museum’ is  a disgrace to the city of Denver, little more than a highly politicized example of political propaganda at its worst and most bias. It should be closed down. Trinidad Colorado can be prouder of being the `sex-change capital’ of Colorado than Denver for hosting `The CELL”

Instead, to date anyway,  it is celebrated.

While Mizel appears to be the main contribitor, he did get a little help from his friends. Indeed, how the CELL came into being is a nice case study of Mizel’s political influence. And, as he has for decades, Norm Brownstein is there for Larry Mizel once again….

• A year ago, the CELL paid the law firm of Brownstein, Hyatt, Farber Schreck LLP $90,000 to lobby on its behalfon the Defense and Commerce-Justice-Science appropriations bills, according to Congressional filings. So far, this year, CELL has spent another $40,000 on lobbying.
• The CELL was the recipient of a $300,000 earmarked grant in the US Senate appropriations bill.
• The appropriation was pushed through the US Senate by US Democratic Senator Michael Bennet of Colorado who persuaded appropriators to include the earmark in the Senate version of the fiscal 2010 Labor, Health and Human Services and Education spending bill. He had originally asked for $350,000.
• Although Mizel is a stanch Republican, he was flexible enough to donate $4800 to Bennet’s campaign fund this year.
• In the House US Representative Ed Perlmutter, also from Colorado, lobbied for $443,000 for the museum, but appropriators turned him down. (5)
• When `The CELL’ opened, it got the blessing of Colorado Democratic Governor Bill Ritter, who with his wife, Jeannie, a former Peace Corps Volunteer in Tunisia watched a simulated explosion of Denver’s 16th Street Mall at the museum, in the company of Larry Mizel. Ritter rationalize his presence at the CELL, and its `importance’ by commenting that anarchists had threatened to disrupt the Denver Democratic Convention…. pathetic excuse. (6)
• The Department of Homeland Security in Washington has given `The CELL’ a $30,400 grant to produce a program `Recognizing 8 Signs of Terrorism’. Governor Ritter has formally endorse the proejct. (7)

Claiming that terrorism is not just a threat `on the coasts’ but in the heartland, CELL executive director, Melanie Pearlman hopes to turn the museum into `an action center’ to fight terrorism. Pearlman added that this includes efforts such as `researching’ pension funds and other investment vehicles to help ensure the funds aren’t being used unwittingly to prop up terrorist groups.

While all this sounds a bit abstract, it already is quite concrete. In the last session of the state legislature, there was a bipartison effort to get the state’s pension fund, called PERA, with its $40 billion in assets to divest from companies doing business with Iran’s energy sector. This was a part of a national divestment effort in other state legislatures which was largely sucecssful (including in Colorado). (6)

Besides, Pearlman does not come to The CELL as a political novice. Prior to joining the CELL, Ms. Pearlman spent five years with the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC), most recently as Deputy Regional Director for the Midwest Region managing daily operations of AIPAC as a member of the national senior managment team. She oversaw strategic planning for ten geographical divisions encompassing community outreach, lobbying, fundraising, coalition building and speech writing. Prior to that, she served as the Area Director of Colorado and Nebraska where she established AIPAC organizational chapters. 

So we can expect CELL to participate in such efforts, themselves an attempt to take the initiative away from calls becoming louder and more effective internationally to get companies and government pension funds world wide to divest from companies profiting from the Israeli occupation of the West Bank and Gaza…

1. http://www.blacktie-colorado.com/premiere_events/details.cfm?id=1693

2. http://www.wiesenthal.com/site/pp.asp?c=lsKWLbPJLnF&b=4441993

3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Larry_Mizel

4  http://www.cobizmag.com/images/uploads/lists/25PowerList.pdf

5. http://coburn.senate.gov/public/index.cfm?FuseAction=LatestNews.NewsStories&ContentRecord_id=0a0cda09-802a-23ad-4e70-9c0c974c1617.

6.http://blogs.westword.com/demver/2008/08/exploring_terrorism_at_the_cel.php

7. http://thecell.org/wp/press/press-releases/

Tôi Đi Tìm Tôi

Thơ phiếm luận, hồi ký, xã hội

Chuyến đầu tiên, tôi về thăm Quê Mẹ,

Bà Chị tôi đau nặng báo tín sang,

Tôi lật đật lấy vé hàng không sớm,

Ngồi yên xong, tôi mới thấy ngỡ ngàng,

Một Miền Bắc 55 năm trời xa cách!

Một Miền Nam 34 năm bỗng lạ lùng!

Tôi dừng lại Nam Hàn ba bốn tiếng,

Hiện đại ghê, Tôi ngắm mãi Xứ Người,

Những xa lộ dài, tối tân như Mỹ,

Những thị thành ánh sáng, phố khang trang,

Ly cà phê phi-cảng Ichon sao thơm nóng!

Đắt không ngờ hơn giá phi cảng O’hare!

Tôi nao nức bước vào sàn Phi Cảng,

Tiếp Chuyến Bay về Hà Nội trong Mơ!

Gia đình Chú Em tối nay hẹn đón,

Chưa một lần nhìn rõ Nó bao giờ!

Đã 55năm rồi, nó & tôi xa cách,

Từ lúc Làng, cuộc Đấu Tố tung ra,

Tôi không thích mấy <Anh Em dồn Mẹ Cha> ra kết tội!

Tôi bỏ Làng và chạy trốn khỏi Việt-Minh,

Thời gian đó, tôi chưa đầy 15 tuổi,

Tình <Anh Chị Em> tôi, ruột thịt rất chân tình!

Tôi náo nức gặp thằng em thơ ấu!

Và gia-đình có cả Vợ mấy đứa con,

Tôi thông báo, đầu tôi đội mũ đỏ,

Đẩy một Vali cũng mầu đỏ như cờ,

Tôi biết Đất Nước tôi đang Độc Đảng,

Đội mũ Đỏ về sẽ có cảm-tình hơn?

Qua phi cảng Nội Bài không hẳn thế,

Bàn Công An vẫn kiểm kỹ như thường,

Trình giấy Visa nhưng vẫn cần Đăng Ký,

Anh về đâu? Và Anh ở Nhà ai?

Đăng-ký xong, tôi đẩy một xe hành lý,

Ngoài Phi Trường, cháu Hạnh đã vẫy tay,

Tôi mang máng nghe, bác Sơn mũ Đỏ,

Kể ra mình Ký Hiệu cũng khá hay!

Tôi ôm-chầm lấy một Ông Già hơi mập,

Thì ra bây-giờ Nó béo lại già nua,

Thôi chúng ta về nhà hàn-huyên tâm sự,

Nhà em bố-trí Cháo Gà, Bác ăn khuya,

Mới nghe tiếng Cháo Gà, thèm muốn chết!

Như ngửi được mùi thơm, Nồi Cháo <Năm Đói xưa>,

Lúc Quân Nhật đánh vào Quân Đội Pháp,

<Không bao lâu>, 2 quả bom Nguyên-Tử Mỹ khiến <Nhật đầu-hàng>,

Sau Việt-Minh và ĐP Quốc-Gia bắt tay Liên-Hiệp,

Ai cũng mừng vì Độc Lập sắp đến gần!

Tuổi Niên-Thiếu, chúng tôi mong tìm Cơ Hội,

Nhưng không ngờ, hai bên Quốc-Cộng tàn-sát nhau!

Theo Đoàn Người Tỵ-Nạn, Anh Em tôi lạc-lõng!

Lúc Vùng Tề, Vùng Sôi Đậu gian truân!

Có lẽ <Niềm Tin bác Hồ> của tôi không dứt khoát?

Tôi nghi-ngờ, vì Chú Bác giầu-có Họ-Hàng tôi,

<Ruộng đất bị tịch thâu> và còn bị đưa ra Nhân-Dân kết-án!

Tôi rất buồn, tìm cách di-tản vào Nam,

Vào miền Nam, sau 20 năm miệt-mài tranh-thủ,

Tôi đã thành-danh, một Giáo chức yêu nghề!

Tôi cũng đã là một Sĩ Quan <của miền Nam Dân Chủ>,

Và Giấc-Mơ của tôi, sự Thống-Nhất Quê mình,

Song Đất Nước đã xoay chiều ngang trái!

Anh Em Lạc-Hồng vẫn xáo thịt, nồi da!

Cái Khát Vọng Yêu Quê và Đoàn Tụ,

Đã tan-tành, một lẫn nữa, phải Đi Xa!

Đoàn Bộ-Đội Cộng bỗng hung hăng đổ bộ,

Giải-Phóng Miền Nam với từ ngữ sai lầm?

Thế-Hệ tôi chắc không cần Ai giải phóng,

Vì Miền Nam vẫn Đả-Thực, chống Cộng, lẫn Phong?

Lý Tưởng ấy đã khai sinh từ <Nền Cộng Hoà Đệ I>,

Một Miền Nam tươi sáng cả Non Sông?

Tôi hẫng-hụt đi theo Đoàn Người Di Tản,

Từ Cao Nguyên về Phan Thiết, tới Sàigon,

Tôi may mắn được lên Tầu vào Mỹ,

Làm lại cuộc đời, lúc ở tuổi 30,

Ngồi suy-nghĩ, tôi giống một loài chim Lữ-Thứ,

Trong Cuộc Đời đã sống trải 3 Môi-Sinh…

Môi-sinh miền Bắc, Anh Em đầy chia rẽ,

Một miền Nam, Dòng Lạc-Việt dành dật nhau,

Còn Môi sinh mới, một Hoa-Kỳ xa lạ!

Nhưng Tự Do, tôi được tranh-đấu với Nhân-Quyền,

Tôi đã học xong 2 bằng Đại Học,

Lập gia-đình và chúng tôi có 2 con,

Song một phút, tôi giật mình nghĩ lại,

Văn-Hoá Loài Người thật phức tạp vô cùng!

Sự-nghiệp mới, tôi vẫn yêu Nghề Dạy Học,

Để suy-tư Thế-Sự, qua nhiều nền Văn-Hoá Người,

Tôi có thể so-sánh ngay khi vừa <đặt chân về Quê Mẹ>,

Không do-dự gì, hoàn-cảnh Đổi-Mới có khá hơn,

Như thằng Em tôi nghèo, nay khá hẳn,

Không còn sắp hàng xin <Hộ KhẩuPhiếu> như xưa,

Những trợ giúp nhỏ-nhoi của người Anh viễn-xứ,

Cũng làm tăng chút ít, cho <Quê Cũ> nghèo-nàn,

Từ độ gửi Gói Hàng về <Chị Em tôi>, tương-trợ,

So năm nay, Việt-Nam Đổi-Mới rất đáng mừng!

Song ra khỏi Phi-Trường Nội-Bài tôi ngã ngửa!

Từng đoàn Scooters vun vút chạy không ngừng!

Xe taxi, du lịch bóng loáng. rồi <từng đoàn xe vận-tải>,

Chen-lấn nhau không thấy kỷ luật giao thông?

Mạnh xe nào chèn-lén qua nhanh càng tốt,

Mỗi tay lái hầu như là một thiên-tài!

Tôi gọi một Taxi đưa chúng tôi về thành-phố,

Khu-Phố Em tôi ở là Khu Văn-Hoá Thanh-Xuân,

Bên cạnh <Sòng Tô-Lịch> đang xây lại và sửa-chữa,

Rác nổi lềnh-bềnh trên Dòng Nước đêm trăng!

Cái thi-vị của Hànội xưa không còn thấy,

Còn Thực-Phẩm, Quán Hàng, bầy-biện bán rất xô-bồ,

Thiết-kế Đô-Thị, dạng Lưỡng-Thể rõ ràng hơn trước,

Các Xóm Nghèo, Bàn-Cờ, Ổ-Chuột khuất bên trong,

Mấy ngày sau, tôi, thằng em tôi <đi dạo phố>,

Lề đường Phố Xá không còn mà <chật ních xe Scooters>,

Ngoài những Phố-Mới, Hồ Gươm, Hồ-Tây, Vườn Bách-Thảo,

Rất cao sang, nhưng dáng Thi-Vị không còn!

Dân-số đã đổ xô quá đông vào Hànội!

Đa số Xóm Nghèo điều thiếu tiêu-chuẩn Vệ-Sinh,

Không khí ô-nhiễm, phải đeo Khẩu-Trang thường trực!

Sung-sướng chăng là các Cao-Ốc của giới Giầu?

Đêm Hànội, Ăn Khuya vẫn là cái Mốt,

Phải nên vào Quán Cao Cấp đắt tiền,

Nều không muốn bị Nhiễm Trùng Thực Phẩm,

Tránh uống <Đá Bào> trong các Khu Xóm Bàn-Cờ,

Thực phẩm không thấy Nha Vệ-Sinh kiểm duyệt,

Nên coi chừng Tào-Tháo đuổi hoặc Viêm Gan,

Hànội mầu Xanh đã thấy dần Khan Hiếm,

Khu Phố nhiều nơi, Nước đọng ao tù,

Những Cao-Ốc giải-toả cho Dân Nghèo chưa đủ,

Thiếu Công Viên càng khan hiếm Mầu Xanh,

Những Ao Hồ không nhiều thường Gây Lụt,

Thuỷ-Triều sông Hồng mùa Nước vẫn dâng lên,

Tuy vậy, Hànội như một thành phố Trẻ,

Đang vươn lên trong Mệt Mỏi không ngừng,

Hỏi Chú Xe Ôm, lợi tức một ngày là mấy,

Thẳng thắn trả lời, chỉ được 1 trăm hai,[1]

 Đi xe ôm quan sát phố-phường buổi tối,

Quán Háng Rong vẫn tập nập như thường,

Thủ đô Hànội ngập đường người thưởng thức,

Nhiều xóm Du-Khách Việt-kiều và Hải-Ngoại, Tây Ba-Lô,

Một trăm mỹ-kim đổi ra Tiền VN, <một Triệu tám>,

<Tô phở Bò đêm>, xóm Văn Hoá chỉ tốn độ 20 ngàn,

Còn giá Vàng bỗng tự nhiên lên vùn-vụt,

Hànội đêm nay, ai cũng kéo mua Vàng,

Tôi ghé một Công Viên có Cây xanh tốt,

<Một thiếu niên> đến hỏi, Chú có cần < Đấm Bóp> không?

Tiếng Lóng chỉ các Em là từ Đấm-Bóp,

Hiểu đằng sau là Chú muốn Gái không?

Tôi trả lời thiếu-niên là Tôi già lắm,

Sức không còn cho Trương Mục này đâu!

Thì ra mình đã già, Hanoi bắt-đầu trẻ,

Dân số thiếu-niên, hiện diện có vẻ nhiều,

Các Quán Karaoke, rất <đông Tuổi Trẻ> như miền Hải-Ngoại,

Cũng Quần Jean, khiêu vũ kiểu Tây Phương,

Nhất là các Khu-Phố Sang, nhiều dân Ngoại-Quốc,

Hànội về đêm, xe cộ tấp-nập lạ thường,

Tôi trở lại nhà thằng Em và tắm rửa,

Căn nhà nhỏ hai lầu, 20m2 mỗi tầng,

Nó dành cho tôi một tầng không tồi-tệ,

<Nhà Ổ Chuột> này ở trong một Ngách không sai,

Ở Hải Ngoại đều đồn về Khu Văn-Hoá,

Tiện Ích Nước mình còn chậm-tiến đúng rồi,

Nhưng tôi cũng vẫn ngủ được <một giấc dài> thoải-mái!

Dù cả đêm chiếc Quạt máy thổi ồn-ào,

<Vì đêm mai>, tôi sẽ lên thăm người Chị ruột,

Đang ốm đau và ở tận Lào Cai,

Chúng Tôi sẽ phải đi <Chuyến Tầu Đêm>, Xe Lửa,

Gặp Chị tôi, để săn-sóc trọn Chuyến Về,

Trọng Thùy Sơn

12/01/09

(Còn Tiếp)

Many people were miffed by the decision to award the Noble Peace Prize to President Obama within days of his inauguration. Adding to this surprise is the fact that in no major hotspot in the world is closer to peace since the President took office.  North Korea has furthered its nuclear weapons program; Iraq remains violent; Israelis and the Palestinians still fight; Iran is marching towards nuclear weapons; Pakistan is a mess; and the war in Afghanistan has just been escalated with the President’s decision to send an additional 30,000 troops.

In Norway today Noble chairman, Thorbjorn Jagland, explained the Committee made its choice for the award because President Obama’s leadership (election) was a “call to action for all of us.”  That explains it, doesn’t it???

President Obama added to the confusion today during his acceptance speech in Oslo.  The President made surprising comments that included:

• “We must begin by acknowledging the hard truth: we will not eradicate violent conflicts in our lifetimes,”  ….  “There will be times when nations, acting individually or in concert, will find the use of force not only necessary but morally justified.”
• “Whatever mistakes we have made, the plain fact is this, the United States of America has helped underwrite global security for more than six decades with the blood of our citizens and the strength of our arms.”
• “A decade into a new century, this old architecture is buckling under the weight of new threats,”  …..  “The world may no longer shudder at the prospect of war between two nuclear superpowers, but proliferation may increase the risk of catastrophe.  Terrorism has long been a tactic, but modern technology allows a few small men with outsize rage to murder innocents on a horrific scale.”

Boy, that sure sounds like George W. Bush wrote those words, doesn’t it?  Given the eloquent way that the President reminded the crowd of America’s past “noble” actions in the world, one wonders why he apologized for America’s history in his earlier trips abroad?  After all of the President’s criticism of his predecessor, now he justifies American acting “”?  Is that what the Left calls “unilateralism”?

The President also singled out president John F. Kennedy with praise during the speech.  It might be helpful for a historian in the President’s staff to remind him of Kennedy’s actions in the Bay of Pigs and his role in intervening in Vietnam.

The President’s speech will make centrist and even some on the right feel more comfortable.  At the same time it will irritate many on the Left, especially those in Europe.  It seems that the realities of the world is forcing the President’s seemingly bipolar statements.  Didn’t this metamorphosis happen to Jimmy Carter too?

Lack of a cohesive foreign policy is potentially dangerous since it could cause our enemies to misread intentions.  Such miscalculations can lead to unintended conflicts.

School Girls at Cho Binh Tay

It’s Thursday morning in Saigon. I started my journey here 78 days ago. It’s been a long fulfilling road with memories  that will last a lifetime. I’ll never forget my first day here on September 25, 2009. I walked outside early that morning right smack in the middle of  absolute chaos! Imagine standing in the middle of a hurricane with the storm swirling around  you . Your eyes are looking through a kaleidoscope of colors and people are constantly invading your personal space. Motorbikes zoom by you without warning, street vendors appear out of thin air and there is chirping on every street corner…Motorbike? Boom-Boom? Where you going? Street vendors ply their wares and women in conical hats sell fresh fruit, vegetables and other small items. At 5 am, people cram the parks for morning exercise and the city once again brings a new day. Sitting on a 12″ plastic stool eating BBQ Pork Chops with Sticky Rice for breakfast before the sun rises is an awesome experience.

Now that I’m back , I vividly remember my first days here. Like crossing the street in traffic that first morning. In fact, it was my first blog post. It was a milestone for me…now it’s a walk in the park. People even follow my lead across as if my timing to jump out in front of moving machinery is a sound decision. I also remember how difficult it was my first few days. In contrast, this morning I enjoyed Pho for breakfast at my favorite outdoor shop on a busy corner. The same place I tried Pho my first day in Viet Nam. Then I could barely order food and the employees seemed a bit  short with me. Today, the employees smile and chat with me. They even shoo away the ever-present street vendors while I’m slurping Noodles. I like to think I’ve developed enough social skills that I’ve at least garnered a bit of respect from the locals.

I took a cooking class to learn the proper way to prepare Pho. I also wanted to learn to make Vietnamese Spring Rolls since I’ve eaten my share during my journey. True to my American heritage, I chose Fried over Fresh. My friend whom I met in September, Giang, picked me up early that morning. We we’re both happy to see each other again. She arranged for my personal instruction at the chefs home in the city center. Chef Quoc met me at the entrance and with a firm handshake invited me to sit and chat. Shortly after I walked in, his 3 beautiful girls came to greet me along with his wife. The eyes of the children are one of my favorite images in Viet Nam. They make my heart melt when they look at me and smile. Quoc gathered all the ingredients purchased at the area market and we began preparing the Pho and Spring Rolls. The Spring Rolls are something I’ll easily make when I return home. The Pho Stock simmering for 6 hours will be a welcoming smell on those cold winter Minneapolis days. My time here is short. In 72 hours I’ll be on a plane bound for Tokyo and then finally home. Old Man Winter has laid a carpet of snow to welcome me back. How strange it will all seem…

No Amount of Troops can Overcome Committed Zealots with Little to Lose.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009. The ambiguity is the worst part.

I don’t doubt the need for war, sometimes. I do not hesitate to support committing the military strength of this nation when the need is clear, when the call is compelling.

I do doubt the war in Afghanistan.

I was raised on ambiguous war. I was nine years old with two uncles in Viet Nam when the score-keeping reports of the day’s war dead on the CBS Nightly News with Walter Cronkite caused me to ask why they were there. I went to Mom, Dad, Grandpa, my aunts, and the best anyone could tell me was that one uncle was drafted and the other was career Army. Okay (either that, or “O.K.”). But why were they there?

The reasons were never clear. At least they were never clearly explained to me then, and the best I’ve found since is a history of cascading decisions pulling each other over the edge of a policy cliff.

Then Bobby Kennedy came to town, campaigning for the presidency and against the war. I got Mom to take me. Bobby posed my question, too. He, too, failed to find an answer.

Ambiguity of need, purpose, mission and will dragged us down in Viet Nam and have plagued our military conflicts since. We have to go back to World War II to find a compelling call to war, one so clear that it needs no articulation, no persuasion, no analysis. We had been struck. We knew we would strike back. The nation knew what it had to do. It is perhaps ironically fitting that President Barack Obama committed our nation to the next ambiguous war a few days from the anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor.

Our entry into the worldwide war was building prior to Pearl Harbor, of course, but it was that one, clear, unmistakable event that brought the nation in. By “the nation,” I don’t mean the government and the military machine. I mean us, people, regular folks. The territory of the United States had been attacked in a frontal blow by the marked and branded military of a foreign state. This was war. We would respond. Everyone understood it. Everyone supported it. President Franklin Delano Roosevelt didn’t go before the nation to lay out the strategy for getting out on the way in. He went before the Congress and said give me a declaration.

We were struck savagely in September 2001, no doubt, but against what do we strike back? Kandahar is both similar to and different from Pearl Harbor, and that is exactly the problem. Joe Klein of Time Magazine calls the expansion of the war in Afghanistan “51% necessary and 49% futile (or vise versa).”

The apparent futility couples with the clear ambiguity to produce a situation that is destined to fail. Not only is the objective unclear, but achieving it, whatever it is, will be nearly impossible.

The asymmetry inherent between Afghanistan and the United States, notes Professor Victor Davis Hanson of Hillsdale College, will lead to the inevitable failure of this war. What that means in simpler English is that in a society in which the combatants have little chance of living as well as the poorest citizens of the United States, where they are willing to continue to fight without decisive battles, and where they are driven with religious zealotry, the likelihood of the conflict dragging on gets higher regardless of the number of troops we send in.

Like all of the ambiguous conflicts preceding it back to World War II, Afghanistan is not a war we can win. At least, we can’t win it with conventional western warfare. Our nation was created by winning a war with unconventional tactics employed by poor zealots. The United States, of all nations, should understand the power of this scenario because we’ve been on both the winning and the losing ends of it. In Afghanistan, it is a scenario in which we do not have the upper hand.

– PP

Senator McCain said the purpose of war is to break the enemy’s will. This in opposition to President Obama’s decision to have a short military involvement in Afghanistan. My mind jumped to the ways in which I’ve witnessed less overtly violent will-breaking in other situations, namely in families and in the workplace.

Okay, here’s my point. If you have two armies going at it on an isolated military field that’s one thing. It’s horrible enough, and maybe war should never happen in a world as civilized as we could be in almost 2010. But fighting a war against a few among a civilian population means we can lose their good will from fallout from the drones, errant bombs, etc.  The same thing happens in families where there’s a bully. Even if only one person is singled out to be bullied, the others witnessing the bullying are being abused too. Now we get to the workplace. “Break the enemy’s will” becomes “carry out strict rules” or “run a tight ship.”  These expressions aren’t necessarily abusive but when overdone they can be. When applied to one or more employees unfairly they can have a demoralizing effect on the others. Collateral damage, whether it’s rage, bullets, or second-hand smoke, can occur in many situations.

When my first child went to kindergarten many children hadn’t had preschool and didn’t behave well. The teacher reacted by screaming at the whole class for most of the day, at least that’s how it seemed to me. I felt my son was being abused having to listen to this. He must have wondered what was wrong with him that he should be screamed at this way.

Writing “The Career Within You,” http://www.wagele.com, we interviewed a few people who had bosses who seemed to  regard their employees as enemies. I’ve known professors and teachers with this attitude toward one or more students, too. I’ve also seen a completely broken will. After I gave my highly spirited dog to a relative who lived in another town, unknown to me he beat it into submission. The dog’s personality was unrecognizable the next time I saw him.

In this blog, I’ve talked about physical will-breaking and emotional abuse as it occurs in jobs and at home and how it impinges on those not directly involved in the conflict. This has implications for all nine career types. For example, some types have thicker skin than others and aren’t bothered much by criticism, but a sensitive type who is caught in the middle can be shattered by it. In another example, some types are extremely generous and expansive. The more uptight types in their presence can feel uncomfortable by comparison.

In conclusion, in Senator McCain’s experience in the Viet Nam war,  North Viet Nam itself was considered a vile enemy.  Except for the fact that he was being held there as a prisoner, would he have been happy obliterating the country? One would think he knows that maintaining a sincerely friendly relationship with the Afghan people is to our advantage.

My father tested one of the first helicopters designed by the Italian Enea Bossi. We have a letter from the US Department of Defense asking Dad to test it.  They felt such a machine would have use ferrying troops to otherwise inaccessible areas.

They were right about that; but the Bossi chopper  was ultimately not the one that did the job.

My brother became an Army helicopter pilot and flew them in what to become known as “the Helicopter War.” – Viet Nam.  The letter from the Defense Department to our father in the 1940s hangs on his home office wall.

Hughes aircraft came out with a model, Hughes UH-1 (nickname “Huey”)  prior to the Viet Nam war. No piece of equipment was more emblematic of that war from the beginning to the end when they had to be dumped off of the decks of aircraft carriers.

Here is the official “obituary” for the Huey:

Guard retires UH-1 Huey after 50 years of service

Oct 09

Photo Credit: File photo

The UH-1 Iroquois helicopter was officially retired in a ceremony held Oct. 2 by the Army National Guard, ending a service life of more than 50 years to the Army and close to 40 years in the Army Guard. The helicopter, known to most simply as the Huey, was first manufactured in 1956 and fielded to the Army by 1959. Its distinctive nickname came from the pronunciation of its first Army designation of HU-1- for helicopter, utility. [www.army.mil]

I last saw a Huey at Fort Drum in the Adirondacks. My brother and I walked down a line of them. He stopped, picked up the tag on one, read it, patted the side of the machine affectionately and said to me: “this old girl has been in Viet Nam.”

________________________________

VotingFemale Speaks! – EPA to Attack US Economy by declaring CO2 toxic; without CO2, all plant life would die

HotAir – Always remember: 68th anniversary of Pearl Harbor

Salt Crusted Fish

Back on the BEACH!

This is some kinda life I’m living. I leave before long, so chilling out ocean side for a couple days provided me time to relax and reflect. I’ve become quite comfortable here in Viet Nam.  If you  let it, Viet Nam will become a part of who you are. The country will change the way you think about many things.  If you’re fortunate enough to cross paths with a few locals, you can really learn to appreciate what’s important.  I’ve met some unbelievably kind, funny, hard-working and intelligent people during my stay.

They continue to amaze me…

Mue Ne is a beautiful resort fishing village in south central Viet Nam. Outside of daily rain in Hoi An, I’ve been blessed with good weather my whole trip in SE Asia. Mue Ne, no exception. Nice breeze, pure sunshine and cool evenings. Despite being somewhat touristy,  the Seafood stands up nicely compared to other beach towns I’ve visited. Fresh Crab, Salt Crusted Fish and Squid…all very tasty. Phillip dropped me off on the East Beach which is predominately Vietnamese tourist hotels and restaurants. I prefer this since it puts me close to local cuisine and far away from Pizza. People that know me, know I LOVE pizza. It has been my secret western “fix” during my travels. I can’t help it…I’m sure it’s the Cheese! The West Beach is saturated with big resorts and western tourists. I enjoyed staying at my hotel as the staff despite their lack of English and my inability to correctly pronounce words, we’re quite helpful. The security guard was a hoot! He spoke just enough English to keep me entertained as I wasted the day away in my beach side hammock.

I have a few things left on my list to try and with time running out, I finally scored some chicken feet. Why can’t I find these at McDonald’s?? Yes, the texture is a bit different from what we Americans are used to…but Fried Chicken Feet with Sea Salt & Cracked Pepper and Mashed Potatoes with Gravy should be on somebody’s menu back home!

Heading to Saigon next. My final destination.

judging by the menu, they might need more "tuong den" on that table. actually, a LOT more.

I’m not entirely against Vietnamese pho restaurants using puns in their names (Pho King in East Oakland comes to mind). And I’m not  against Vietnamese spots that don’t use accents in their menus; they confuse English-reading folks and are superfluous to folks who can read Viet, given some context of course (see 9021Pho menu). But you damn well better serve some good pho! Not that fusion crap (usually fused with more water and less MSG fish sauce). Cause this is the one dish that Americans don’t like when its watered down and prepared in a French-style bowl (ie. small portion in a giant white dish). So I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt 9021Pho in Beverly Hills, California. But judging by the Thrillist review, I have DOUBTS. EXTREME DOUBTS:

From the former chef of Michela comes this nook-like, modern casual soupery dedicated almost entirely to brothy Vietnamese deliciousness, with variations including Pho Ca (sliced tuna, onion, bean sprout, basil, and chili w/ chicken stock) and Spicy and Sour (shrimp, sole, straw mushroom, pineapple, baby corn and noodles in lemongrass, chili and tamarind broth); there’re also a few traditional entrees, like prawns wok-tossed with cilantro, garlic, and sherry vinaigrette over sliced tomatoes, and a peppercorn sauced filet mignon that’s cubed — so bring your TI-86.

Thanks RyRy.

Gửi các bạn yêu thích tango tại Hà Nội,

Milonga thường kỳ của chúng tôi tuần này sẽ bị hoãn lại để chuẩn bị cho một sự kiện đặc biệt sắp diễn ra. Mong các bạn thông cảm.

Hẹn gặp lại các bạn và Tango trong những ngày gần nhất!

Tango Hanoi

——–

Dear Tango lovers,

We would like to inform you all that the regular saturday milonga will be cancelled due to our preparing for special event which is coming soon..

Hope to see all of you in that day!

Hasta pronto!

Tango Hanoi

“The ultimate outcome will depend upon the hearts and minds of the people who actually live out there.”

                 – President Lyndon Johnson

 This is a re-issue of the 1974 documentary about Viet Nam and though it is painful, I am thinking it would be a good time for me to watch the full two-hour version; maybe even buy a copy for my dvd library.

I’m sorry that after our President’s announcement last evening, and with all the respect in the world for our troops in the field of battle-including one of my sons on active duty in Bagdad, I must register my extreme disappointment and deep saddness. Ironically, it fits in perfectly with the Advent celebration we have just commenced. For what we celebrate is precisely the entering into this war torn world of the promised Prince of Peace. It is because the People of God have not understood the essence of His coming that peace on earth continues to elude our best efforts.

We still have not learned some very basic lessons from the tragedy of Viet Nam.

Written by Rep. Mike Honda for the Congressional Asian Pacific American Caucus

Today, the Congressional Asian Pacific American Caucus (CAPAC) applauds the U.S. Senate for confirming Judge Jacqueline Nguyen as a federal district judge in the Central District of California. CAPAC is proud to have supported Judge Nguyen through her confirmation process. She will be our nation’s first Vietnamese American to serve as an Article III judge.

For the past seven years, Judge Nguyen served on the Los Angeles Superior Court.  Prior to that, she was a federal prosecutor with the Justice Department’s Criminal Division and served as the Deputy Chief of the General Crimes Section. She attended Occidental College and the UCLA School of Law.  As a child, along with her family, she escaped the fall of South Vietnam in 1975.

I congratulate President Obama on his commitment to ensuring diversity of the federal bench, and thank him for choosing talented Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) jurists of the highest caliber for the federal bench.  In addition to Judge Nguyen, President Obama has nominated Judge Denny Chin for an appellate judgeship on the Second Circuit, Edward Chen as a district judge in the Northern District of California, and Dolly Gee as a district judge in the Central District of California.

Judge Nguyen’s confirmation is an important milestone for AAPIs, as the community is sorely underrepresented on the federal bench. Currently, Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders make up less than 1% of federal judges.

I’m as giddy as a schoolgirl. Tonight Chairman Zero will give an address outlining his brilliant plan for Afghanistan. I’m certain it will be filled with strategies designed to confound our enemy and wrestle victory from them. The backdrop for this masterpiece should be stunning with all those cadets adorning his presence, he should look like a giant among them.

It’s just a shame that we have so many channels on TV now, otherwise we could have him on every one. Wouldn’t that be fantastic? An entire night with the Leader. I wonder if he’ll wear an armband like Adolf used to? They were saying that he wouldn’t be wearing any military type things but an armband with the Obama logo would be just awesome don’t you think?

I wanted to wait until he spoke to write this post but I just couldn’t wait. Besides, Limbaugh, Beck and the rest will chew it up tomorrow so I thought I’d speculate. I’m sure he’ll have the standard LBJ withdrawal date to give our enemies hope. That’s just telling them that they only have to hold out that long and then we’ll be gone and they can go back to business as usual.

We already know he won’t be sending the required troops to complete the action but how many do you think are going. Already this has Viet Nam written all over it, but do you think he can make it worse? Who’s idea was it to put a cowardly communist in charge anyway?

He don’t care if you’re rich or poor

He loves you just the same

- Here Comes Santa Claus, by Gene Autry-

If I may borrow a concept from Charles Dickens:  It was my worst Christmas, It was my best Christmas.

 It wasn’t my first Christmas away from home, but it was my first Christmas in a combat zone.  The year was 1967 and I was rapidly approaching the end of my first tour in Vietnam.  I was stationed at LZ Two Bits in proximity to the Village of Bong Son.  The village was large as villages go.  Our camp was on a small rise on the edge of town.  The road ran through the center of town, leading out to rice paddies and a large garbage dump in one direction and ended at a tee intersection in the other direction.  That road lead towards a larger landing zone, LZ English, in one direction and beyond towards the foothills in the other direction.  There were smaller villages, rice paddies and stands of forest along the way.

We were in a period of Holiday Cease Fire, which meant we only had a few firefights with the Viet Cong.  But, in reality, it was relatively quiet and no one had any complaints.

It was mid-November and my family had just learned that I had opted to serve a second tour in Vietnam and, stoically accepting my decision, my mother had written to me to ask what I would like for Christmas.  What was there to want in a combat zone?  I had no record player and didn’t want to be encumbered by one (this was before ipods, cds and 8 tracks).  Civilian clothing was not only forbidden, it served no function at all.  We had cards, games and some paperbacks, so that left one thing only:  snacks.

Let me explain snacks in Vietnam.  First it was unlikely that the snack would arrive in the same condition that it was shipped in.  The usual result at the end of the delivery was a package full of crumbs.  I’ve seen cakes stored in tins arrive looking like a pile of sawdust.  But, good is good, regardless of form.  Second, there was no such thing as anyone receiving snacks dedicated solely to the recipient;  as soon as a package of treats was opened it was fair game for grabbing.  You learned early on to have one hand ready to grab a handful at the time of opening your package.  After that it was rare that you got a chance for a second bite.

I sat down and started a letter to my mother, outlining a few snacks I would like to get.  I wrote for a short period and then laid everything aside and went to bed.  We had a local patrol the next morning and I wanted to get some rest before a gruelling day of wading streams and rice paddies with boots caked with mud and weighing 15 pounds apiece.

In the 1st Air Calvary Division our usual method of travel was by helicopter;  we flew to our area of operation for the day, patrolled on foot and then flew back to camp for the evening.  Periodically we rotated with other platoons and companies to patrol locally, which meant being afoot for the entire day out and back.  This added considerably to the amount of miles we would be walking in less than desirable terrain.

We headed out the next morning in file, spaced out at 15 foot intervals from each other.  This was to minimize personnel damage in the event of an attack, particularly from grenades and landmines.  And, though the village was friendly, it was standard operational procedure to form up in combat formation each time we left the landing zone on patrol.  We headed down the road, waving to friends in the village as we went.  At the tee, we turned to the right and walked on past the orphanage that sat on the edge of the village.

War produces a lot of orphans, and this war was no exception.  I don’t know how many orphans there were being cared for in the village, but there were quite a few.  The orphanage was operated by the Catholic Church and was staffed by  Nuns.  As was customary, we would stop off at the mess tent before heading out and put some candy in our pockets.  At the end of the serving line there was always a large cardboard box filled with packs of cigarettes and candy.  We would toss the candy to the kids in the village as we passed through, and knowing the custom, they would run out to greet us as we walked along. 

The kids from the orphanage were standing outside the walls as we approached and began shouting to us.  It was funny how they always seemed to know our schedule better than we did.  As we passed the orphanage I tossed some candy like the others in my platoon and my eye caught two little girls sitting near the wall playing with something.  They looked up and waved and I threw them some candy which they grabbed up then went back to their playing.  They had a stick with a small piece of cloth wrapped around it and from the way they were handling it I realized it was a makeshift doll and they were playing house like girls around the world are wont to do.  I had seen the same two girls on several occasions and they were always playing together.  I didn’t know if they were sisters or if the circumstances of life had made them such.

The day, though gruelling in terms of physical activity; we ended up patrolling several steep hills, was uneventful and, tired but grateful for what we termed a walk in the park, we headed back in to camp.  Following dinner and a quick shower out of a shower bag, I sat down to finish my letter.  As I reread what I had already written, I suddenly knew what I wanted for Christmas.  I wanted a doll.  I wanted a baby doll with a baby bottle and a baby blanket.

I explained the two girls to my mother and tossed the letter into the outgoing mail bag outside Headquarters Tent.  Thanksgiving came and went and I received a couple of letters from home but no packages so far.  As we entered into December, things stayed fairly routine.  We had one encounter with the Viet Cong in the foothills that resulted in a short firefight with no one hurt on our side.  Back in camp, during evening mail call, packages began to arrive and the time-honored tradition of every man for himself was in full force as snacks and treats emerged from crushed cardboard containers.  We would grab and wrestle over food and laugh about it all good-naturedly.

The few remaining days until Christmas went by rapidly and I still had not received a package from home.  I wasn’t worried, but more and more I was disappointed when my name wasn’t called.  Still, I knew that even packages mailed well in advance from home might take a wrong turn and arrive one to two months late. 

Finally, it was Christmas Eve.  No one went out on patrol that day.  We maintained a perimeter guard around the Landing Zone and spent the day playing cards or board games.  Some read, all talked about home, cars, girls.  No one would admit to being homesick.  Then we heard the long-awaited cry of “Mail Call”, and we rushed out like five-year olds running down the stairs on Christmas Morning.  We stood in a bunched circle as the Sergeant in charge grabbed letters and called out names.  The recipient would yell, “Here.” and the letter was tossed to him.  As each received their letter or package, they would rush back to their tent to dig into Christmas cards, gifts of food, and more precious than all, gifts of words from someone who loved them.

And finally it was over, and those few who had not received anything turned away in silence to go see what their more fortunate friends had received.  As I turned to go the Sergeant called to me. I turned back to see what he wanted and he told me to report to the Colonel.  All I could think of was, “What did I do now?”

 Wondering how bad the situation was, and what my punishment was going to be, I made my way to the Officer’s Quarters with a reluctant heart.  Outside the Colonel’s tent I called out, informing him I was reporting as ordered.  The tent flap opened and the Colonel emerged.  He looked at me for a moment and then demanded to know what was going on.  I didn’t have a clue, and I wasn’t about to give him one.  I told him I didn’t know what he meant and, in response he pointed to a number of mail sacks sitting beside his tent.  A mail sack was about four feet deep and three feet in radius and there were seven of them sitting there, each full of unwrapped toys.  There were toys of every description, from cars and trucks to bake sets and doll houses.  I told the Colonel I didn’t know anything about the toys and he handed me a letter telling me it was all addressed to me.  I was as lost as he was perplexed, or mad, or both.  I wasn’t about to ask him which.

I asked permission to open the letter and he told me to go ahead.  As I read, the situation was made clear and I explained to the Colonel.  My mother was working for Pacific Bell as a Chief Operator at the time, and, upon receiving my letter about the two little girls, she told everyone at work the story.  People from her work began bringing in toys.  The situation gathered momentum and a toy drive was in full force.  The end result was the pile of toys now sitting outside the Colonel’s tent.  I apologized to him, stating I had no idea this was going to happen. 

The Colonel told me to go get two friends and meet him back at his tent.  I volunteered my two best friends, Tony and Tom, figuring if I was going to be shot for treason or something I wanted to die with friends.  Back at the Colonel’s tent he ordered us to load the bags in a small trailer and hitch it to his jeep.  We did so and he climbed in the passenger seat and told us to get in and drive over to the mess tent.  At the mess tent the Colonel climbed out and commandeered a sheet cake that was meant for the next day’s Christmas dinner.  On the way out the Chaplain asked us what was going on, and upon hearing the story, he followed in another jeep.  Tony volunteered to drive the Chaplain.  Tom drove for the Colonel and I kept an eye on the toys in the trailer.

To say that our unexpected arrival at the orphanage on Christmas Eve was greeted with enthusiasm would be an understatement.  The kids laughed and screamed, the Nuns smiled and cried and said thank you so many times I wanted to tell them to shut up.  Tom cut the cake and passed it out.  The Colonel passed out toys to the kids;  there was enough for everyone to receive a personal gift.  The Chaplain blessed each child as they stepped forward to receive a present.  Tony and I found a small tabletop christmas tree in the bottom of one sack and we put it together and sang christmas carols as we decorated it.

And two little girls, smiling as only a child filled with joy can smile, received a baby doll with a baby bottle and a blanket, as well as a package of doll clothing to share back and forth.

When it was over we climbed back in the jeeps and drove back to camp.  As we departed, we saluted the Colonel, and he returned our salute.  We turned to go back to our tent and he called out, “Merry Christmas, boys.”

Homesick for my family, it was my worst Christmas.  Bringing joy to a group of children who had experienced more than any child should ever endure, it was my best Christmas.  And, for one moment, one brief shining moment, Hell took a holiday and there was peace on earth.

afterwords

• In the now 47 ensuing years, this has remained my favorite personal Christmas story.  Each Christmas season I think of the orphan kids in Bong Son, wondering how the years have dealt with them, wondering, indeed wishing, that some may have found their way to America and a successful life.  You can see some pictures of some of them on my Flickr page, accessible in the right hand column of this webpage.  One of the little girls who received the doll can be seen standing in the passenger side of a jeep smiling.  I always think of them as children, though they are now grown, perhaps with children and grandchildren of their own. I wonder if one has ever gathered her grandchildren around her at Christmas to say, “Once, when I was a little girl, I made a doll out of a stick and a piece of cloth . . .”  Merry Christmas everyone.
• Addendum – The snacks finally arrived in late January.  I got one piece of peanut brittle.

In memory of my mother, who loved the children she never met