How do we tell the story?

War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam

A chemical defoliant tank

While I am a low key history nerd (ok, maybe not that low key) my interests tend to focus more on the cultural side of history and less on wars. This means that while I have some vague memories of discussing the Vietnam War in history classes growing up, I honestly did not know very much. Since moving to South East Asia I've learned a bit more, as the American War, since Cambodia was one of the countries affected by the war. A basic, extremely barebones, summary of the history is while North Vietnam, officially the Democratic Republic of Vietnam, won it's independence from colonial France in 1945 as a communist state, South Vietnam did not gain independence until sometime later. When the South became independent they chose to become a democracy separate from the North. This decision to not unite with the North lead to the war from 1955 until the fall of Saigon in 1975.¹ The War was essentially a proxy war for the Soviet Union and the United States because of the supports they provided.

American military airplane

With this in mind, I headed over to Vietnam for the first time. My first stop was the city of Ho Chi Minh, formerly known as Saigon and the former capital of South Vietnam. The one thing I knew I wanted to do in the city was go to the War Remnants Museum. The entrance to the museum is a courtyard filled with airplanes, tanks, and other vehicles used but the Americans during the war.² It struck me as a bit odd that there weren't Vietnamese vehicles as well, until I realized they really did not have many. The American military had them out armed by a long shot.

Propaganda poster

I started on an exhibit focused on support for a united Vietnam- well, what the Museum colors as support. The examples of support the museum used included the antiwar movement in the United States. This goes against the little I know about the movement, which I always saw a movement against the U.S. involvement in the war, not a support of North Vietnam. Starting from this exhibit made the story the museum was trying to tell very clear: the US was an aggressor who tried to keep the North and South separated, while the South and the rest of the world thought Vietnam should be one whole. This was taken to such an extreme that any kind of dissent against the war was colored at support. They even used the term the War of American Aggression.³ This framing of the story continued throughout the museum with exhibits such as "Aggression War Crimes", which featured examples of war crimes including torture and the murder of civilians committed by the U.S. Military, and one on the continuing effects of Agent Orange and other chemicals.

Example of a trap in Cu Chi

While I continued to digest this narrative, I decided to visit the Cu Chi Tunnels. The Tunnels were used by the Viet Cong and other local communist supporters. Since they were out gunned by the Americans they had to use more innovative strategies to survive. In Cu Chi District they dug a complex series of tunnels, including multiple levels for traveling, fighting, and living. Local community members and the fighters lived in the tunnels with no electricity, and would only come out at night to do things like tend crops, collect weapons or tools left by the Americans, and fight. The tunnels were designed to be just big enough for the Vietnamese to fit, since they were often significantly smaller than American soldiers, and included landmines and traps just incase part of the tunnels were infiltrated. There were other traps in the area, designed to trap and injure anyone you stepped on them, mainly with the goal of capturing them in order to trade the soldiers for supplies including medicine.⁴

Inside a tunnel in Cu Chi

I figured the tour would have a similar slant as the museum, and considering it started with a propaganda video from the 1960's about the the tunnel it easily could have been if it wasn't for our tour guide.⁵ The tour guide made a point of talking about the tunnels as a strategy, and made multiple reference to the Saigon based democratic government of the time. While he did not say anything outright to contradict the narrative of the American aggressor, he also didn't emphasize it, and spoke about the the people in the Cu Chi region who sided with the democracy.

"Hanoi, Hue, Saigon. Homeland is indivisible."

I remember my AP U.S. History teacher once telling me the victor writes history.⁶ This experience both confirmed and denied her theory in my mind. In Vietnam, the victor was clearly telling their narrative of unity and victory over the American aggressors. While in the States we avoid telling the story, and when we do we make it as bare bones as possible and tinged it with regret. I would love to be able to hear other sides of the story- stories of dissent within Vietnam, or stories from those who supported the democracy.

Witnessing these differing narratives, and reflecting upon how they have likely changed since the war itself, makes me wonder about the stories and narratives we will tell about our current world conflicts. In forty years will we avoid talking about Iraq? In fifty years will we speak with regret about our military actions in Syria? And maybe most importantly, what can we do now to make sure we like the stories that will be told?

Disappearing into the Cu Chi tunnels:

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1 That's long enough that young soldiers who fought during the beginning of the war could feasibly have children who were old enough to serve near the end of the war.^↩

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2 There was also a tank at the Cu Chi Tunnels which tourists used as a photo op and jungle gym, while I stood there furious, thinking to myself "this is a weapon meant to destroy and kill."^↩

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3 This reminded me of how some parts of the U.S. talk about the Civil War.^↩

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4 As you can imagine life in underground tunnels wasn't a very hygienic, and a significant number of people who lived in the tunnels died from illness.^↩

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5 After the video, my seat buddy turned to me and jokingly announced "Well, I think I'm a communist now."^↩

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6 Except for the Civil War, according to this teacher.^↩

Made it to the Motherland

Mandy, Justin, and me celebrating Christmas with Grandma

Bois Cheri Tea Plantation

I've put this blog off for a long time. Probably too long. My dad has been chiding me to write it for months now, but I have just not been able to articulate my feelings. I got to spend Christmas in Mauritius this year, with my sister, Mandy, and her husband, Justin. I know what you're thinking "Hannah did another trip to some random, cool, tropical place. So what? What's there to have so many feelings about?" The thing is, this was not just another trip for me. This was a visit to where my mother is from, this was a trip to my homeland, this was the first time I met my grandmother and other members of my extended family, and this was the first time I spent Christmas with family in four years.

Mandy and me by the Indian Ocean in Mahebourg

While my Mom is from Mauritius, I'd never really considered going there. I had thought about going to or even working in Malawi, where my mom spent most her life and where my parents met, but for some reason Mauritius hadn't crossed my mind. That changed in November 2015, when Mandy presented the idea of going to Mauritius for Christmas in a year. At the time it was just so out of my budget that I couldn't really consider it. But, almost a year later in October of 2016, I randomly searched the prices for a flight to Mauritius and discovered a discount airline had just opened up a flight there, for about half the price. While it was still probably out of my budget, I decided it was now or never, and after a little coordination with my sister I booked my trip.

Biking up to the Seven Colored Earths

My mom's sister, Auntie Patty. and her husband, Uncle Antoine, enthusiastically agreed to pick me up from the airport. I was racked with nerves: what if we didn't recognized each other? I walked to the greeting area with a mild level of panic, until I saw a tall young man (who turned out to be my cousin) waving at me and pointing to the side. I followed his directions and approached a man and woman who looked vaguely familiar and were very happy to see me. Thankfully they were the correct people and not some randos.

A bit of circus practice with Mandy

I then spent the rest of the day with them, and spent the night with my Grandmother and my Uncle Eric. You now what's weirdly nerve racking? Meeting your grandmother for the first time. This is especially true when you discover she doesn't really speak much English, and you don't speak French or Mauritian Creole. (Thanks alot for that, Mom and Dad!) But she is adorable, and so sweet, and so loving, that having to mime everything out to each other wasn't terrible.

The next day the family and I met Mandy and Justin at the airport, we got lunch, and then we separated and settled into our hotels. Mandy, Justin, and I spent the next week or so exploring the island, attempting to learn more of the history of the island (I learned the Dutch found it and named it Mauritius which is why the French call it Maurice), biking up mountains, and relaxing at the beach. Spending time with them was so much fun, and I found it especially meaningful since I rarely get the chance to spend time with them.

Christmas Dinner with Uncle Eric and Grandma

On Christmas morning, the three of us jumped into Mandy and Justin's rented car and drove over to Auntie Patty's house, where we joined the rest of the family for Christmas dinner. I had fun chatting with my cousins, and playing with my cousin's adorable son who, with his limited English, invited me to play with him by announcing, "Hannah! Coming play Angry Birds!" After dinner there was a brief exchange of presents. I didn't tell anyone at the time, but this was the first time I had presents to open on Christmas day in four years and I was extremely touched to be included.

The Seven Colored Earths

My last day in Mauritius was a long one. Mandy, Justin, and I checked out of our hotels early in the morning, and went on a hike up a mountain. Between this and the bike ride, I learned Mandy is way too perky about exercise for my taste, and I respond to this by becoming extremely grumpy. While we were unable to go all the way to the way to the top of the mountain, we did get some breath taking views of the island and the ocean. After our hike, we made our way to Mandy and Justin's last hotel where we relaxed and did a bit of exploring. Auntie Patty and Uncle Antoine picked me up in the evening to take me to the airport, with a stop for a late dinner with Grandma and Uncle Eric along the way. A little after midnight, I boarded my plane and left the motherland.

The view from Le Morne Brabant Mountian

I cannot fully express the depth of emotions I felt in Mauritius. All I can say is that I have never been anywhere so beautiful and I cannot wait to go back.