Vietnam: Land of Smiles and Sales
Given that the Furama Resort is situated squarely on China Beach, a key location for American troops during the 1960s and 70s, the subject of the Vietnam War is difficult to avoid-not that any of the locals are particularly concerned about avoiding it. "The Vietnamese," says one hotel employee, "are very practical people. And the majority of our country is young and forward thinking. The past is the past. Most of us were children during the war with the U.S. Today, the real fight is about getting Vietnam to be economically competitive with the rest of the world. And to do that, we need new friends. Not old enemies." One of the few Americans I run into in Danang, or anywhere else in Vietnam for that matter, echoes this same sentiment of co-operation. He is one of a team of U.S. Marines working in conjunction with the Vietnamese government to locate the remains of the nearly 2,000 U.S. troops still missing in action since the 1970s. "Since 1995," he says, "the Vietnamese government has changed their position 180 degrees. Every time we go out on a search, their guys are right along with us, working at it almost as hard as we are. Just last week we recovered about seven remains in this area alone, and we're finding more every day."
The Vietnamese are fairly matter-of-fact about the war with the United States. Most have no reservations about discussing the conflict, and their point of view is invariably pragmatic: "It happened; we both suffered great losses; it was 30 years ago; let's move on." That said, however, one major war-related "attraction" figures prominently on the tourist roadmap-the Cu Chi tunnels near Saigon. The site, an elaborate series of underground tunnels that facilitated Viet Cong resistance fighters in their attacks against U.S. troops, is an engineering marvel and a testament to Vietnamese ingenuity and tenacity. Yet, it's also a gruesome reminder of the savagery of combat. For a modest admission fee, visitors are guided along a booby-trapped path, among 30-year-old grenade and mortar craters and rusted-out U.S. tanks, where trip wires trigger a fusillade of faux machine gun fire, and mock Viet Cong soldiers spring up from concealed foxholes. Adding to the reality of the situation, the site sits adjacent to a firing range popular with Taiwanese and Korean businessmen who fly in to practice their aim.
In keeping with the general Vietnamese attitude toward the American war, the Cu Chi exhibition is straightforward and surprisingly light on propaganda. American tourists are the most likely to find themselves unsettled by the all-too-authentic combat reenactments. But to date, U.S. visitors to Vietnam are few and far between. Australian, European, and Asian tourists far outnumber North Americans at the moment, perhaps because most Americans are unsure of the reception they'll receive in what some still consider an "enemy nation"-a wholly inaccurate assumption that most Vietnamese would like to see reversed soon. And it definitely looks like they're on the right track.
Wayne Crawford always has his bags packed. And the Silicon Valley copywriter is the first to admit that the main reason he works is to finance his travels. Vietnam marks his first, but certainly not last, trip to Asia.
