My first trip to VN Dec, 1998. At Ninh Chu Beach. The friendliness of these two random guys was something I would experience countless times over the years.
The night before I left for Saigon, I was sitting in a bar in Tokyo. I had been there on a business trip and, as is customary at the end of the year in the business world, especially the Wall Street world, it was bonus time. I wasn’t thinking about that so much, though. I was reading a Lonely Planet Tourist book and planning my itinerary for the next 11 days.
The next day I hopped on a plane, and in no time at all, I was on the ground in Saigon. Back then, Tan Son Nhat airport was so small. The customs desk and baggage claim were outside, not that far from where the plane landed. Not even a bus to take you there. It was walk down the steps, face the heat, get your passport stamped, and then into the city of all cities.
I remember seeing shanty houses on the “stinky canal” (now not only no longer stinky and the shanties replaced a lively nightspot). I remember checking into The Continental Hotel and my room, 309, which had a fantastic high ceiling, carpeted floors, and a musty smell that was just on the edge of yuk. However, I had one important piece of business to take care of before heading out to explore.
As I mentioned, it was bonus time. I needed to call my boss Peter back at Morgan Stanley to “hear my number.” He told me what I wanted to hear and that I was being promoted. That was a freaking surreal moment because I knew it meant it was a life-changing event for me. And for it to be happening in Saigon made it all the more unreal.
Anyway, I ventured out into the night, and it was pretty chaotic. After walking out the front of The Continental and facing The Opera House, I turned right, then right, then walked right into a fist-fight!!! Not me, but a couple of guys kind of flailing at each other more than landing knockouts. One of the guys took off his flip-flop and hurled it at the other. Even better, the fight was going on at the exact same moment a parade was going by on Dong Khoi Street!!!
Well, I got out of there and headed into the old Gecko bar on Hai Ba Trung. I had a few Tiger beers and talked to a girl named Phuong - appropriate given my love of The Quiet American.
I couldn’t stop thinking about how (a) I was an American in Vietnam and by the grace of God I came here as a tourist and not a soldier, (b) how my life had just changed because of “work” and how absurd the Wall Street game was, (c) how peaceful I felt, and (d) how after only being here a few hours and seeing Phuong and the grace that she carried herself with, I knew it was going to be hard for me to not re-arrange my life to spend as much time here as possible.
I quit my job and it’s more than 25 years later.