I think it began here in this picture of joy with two parents about to meet their second son for the very first time, . . . and there they are standing in front of a very prominent, stark, vibrant, and ominous communist symbol: the hammer and sickle and graced with the bust of a very obvious communist North Vietnamese leader. And I started feeling that this room was purposely strewn with communist propaganda meant to mask the dismal life of its inhabitants. And I was so upset and MAD at myself for feeling this way in the middle of an adoption that I was SO very happy about!!!
Then, throughout the hundreds of pictures posted on Karin's public travel blog, I would get a pang of that same feeling when I would see a picture like this, . . . with the very obvious communist intercom system so very prominently displayed on the outside of buildings (that Dr. Xo told us about so vividly in my studies of international literature).
And then there was the picture that made me absolutely gasp: the view of the actual Hanoi Hilton taken from Karin's window in her hotel room. The very place where John McCain and so many other American military were tortured. I could certainly understand why Karin didn't want to take THAT tour. ; ) [As I sit here and wonder, will Karin be upset at me as I have these feelings amid all of this joy? Is she feeling the same, or perhaps not and allowing Kien to be her constant focus (I hope)? Let's hope she comments on this blog post.] And finally, a few more that gave me that same "pang" of discontent:
And, believe me, I tried so hard not to be bothered by these images, . . . ones that seem to remain unchanged after fifty years. But they continued to haunt me as a testament, I suppose, to the fact that my father is a Vietnam Veteran (even though he despises being labeled that way), and (I'll admit) to the sensationalism of movies such as Forrest Gump and Good Morning Vietnam as well as countless examples of American music from the 1960's. Quite simply, to me these aren't images of beauty. These are images of war (and a war that we LOST, no less.) And I started wondering if they still sold American dog tags as souvenirs on the streets, . . . But what disturbed me most is that I didn't want these negative feelings to be my focus while reading Karin's wonderful and moving blog (as evidenced by the previous post)! So I longed to turn my tortured thoughts into something more positive. And thus, there is the post that follows this one . . .
1 comment:
I have so much more to add to this than you can imagine! I began experiencing Communism in LA while bording Cathay Pacific, a Chinese airline.
I a so "thrilled" that you found the speakers in one of our pictures!!!! I never saw one, but I could hear the broadcasts in our hotel room. I had no idea what they were, so called the front desk. It was difficult to communicate my query, but someone finally told me that it was the daily news broadcast from a radio station morning and evening -- during rush hour. I am so naive... When I told Steve, he said it would be government propaganda. Oh, the front desk did tell me that, when they need to recruit soldiers, that is how they do it.
When I go home and edit all the notes I have made, I will send you a copy of my final story.
You're right -- Karin has no stomach for any of this.
At the end, Steve was showing me magazine photos of beautiful new homes and condos. I said, "As soon as the Vietnamese move in, they will muck it all up," based on not having seen anything decent in the country except God's handiwork which they also muck up. Then I pointed out to Steve that the title of the page was "Expats" -- these were homes for expats! ha!
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