Psychotic Vehemence Seen From Afar

[Bình Châu, 2/1/25]

A minority love maps, destination boards and flight information displays. Most would rather avoid them. Some are even irritated if not enraged by maps.

Walking south on Highway 55, I didn’t need a map. Somehow I was convinced, most irrationally perhaps, I would hit Bình Châu, Phước Bửu, Đất Đỏ, Bà Rịa then, within this lifetime, I certainly hoped if not prayed, my 1901 room in Vũng Tàu, if it hadn’t been bombed, torched or redeveloped. Urban renewal is a nobly progressive goal.

That afternoon, I only made it to Thắng Hải (pop 6,300). At 9 Chỉ, a baffling name for a hotel, I checked in without seeing my room. I’m guessing chỉ here means a mace of gold. That land must have been bought for ten, then, so $3,100 today, but gold has shot up recently. Paying $11.96, I had an AC I never used. There was no electric kettle or fridge. Within a two minute walk were two cafes and a billiard hall. The beach was 300 yards away. Staying two nights, I befriended two dogs, one clearly troubled, so annoyingly aggressive. Snarling all day, he alternated between rape and executive order fantasies. At Coffee Nâu Land, I got to know a lovely couple.

First off, nâu means brown, so Brown Land makes sense, but notice the insertion of two English words. Behind the café was a spacious, two-story house, but it didn’t belong to the owner. His parents lived there. Until three years ago, he made tons of money speculating on land, then everything fell apart. Penniless, he came home with his wife and daughter, built a small house and opened this café.

“I always carried thousands of dollars.”

“Why?”

“So I could put a down payment on whatever I liked.” He laughed.

“Amazing.”

“If I didn’t have enough, I’d call a buddy to wire me some. It was no problem to get a billion [$40,000], just like that!”

Though just 30 miles north of a huge American base in Vũng Tàu, this area was VC territory. Long after the Vietnam War, it was still wild, with plenty of deer and rabbits. Fish could often be scooped from the ocean.

Two weeks ago in Bảo Lộc, I was told the K’Ho used to wander into town to sell porcupines and pangolins. Tigers were seen lying on roads until the 1950’s. Breeding so energetically, we’ve gobbled up much of this earth. Nature is turned into toxic shit or substituted by the ersatz or virtual. Littering away, Viet, Laos and Cambodians trash their countryside. Travel brochures and TV shows hide this well.

With names like Tropicana Beach, Hamptons, Beach House, Kahuna, Habana Island and Le Palmier, snobby resorts creeping north from Vũng Tàu haven’t reached Thắng Hải. There’s a promised enclave of swanky villas, shops and 5-star hotels called Venezia Beach, but walking by, I saw no sign it’s even under construction. It’s clear they haven’t raised enough cash from investors and future residents, so here’s your chance to reserve a beachfront hacienda at the best location. Daily, you’ll sit naked to breakfast on lobster as the sun rises. Vulgar and obnoxious nouveau riche will be your neighbors. I should be their head salesman. After swooning over jivey images of a St Mark’s Campanile, water park, golf links, tennis courses, marina and, of course, gondolas, you’ll empty your bank account to wire a deposit. Don’t hesitate!

Until international celebrities arrive, Thắng Hải only has Hoàng Hải Vân, a journalist best known for a book about dogs. Divorced, he lives with 11 Phu Quoc Ridgebacks. He feeds dogs with his own chopsticks. Their hair covers his bed. Not just a card carrying Communist, this ideological dog is a primitivist who washes dishes with wood ash. He’s denounced as a phony Thích Minh Tuệ. This barefoot monk walks nonstop, eats just once a day, doesn’t use money and sleeps in cemeteries or fields. In a country increasingly materialistic, millions consider him a living Buddha. There’s a Minh Tuệ clone wandering around Orange County.

With our muscles useless or atrophied, we idolize those who can still run, jump and sweat. Confined to strip malls and our job, we travel via YouTube, TikTok and NetFlix. Craving everything, we’re angered or amused by ascetics. Unknown to our neighbors, we identify with celebrities. Defeated, Americans vote for those who will crush them.

Blustery “strong” men are sexy. Online, you can buy a Trumpinator bobblehead, a Trumpinator II calendar with him holding a huge pistol or a “DADDY’S HOME” pink panties. A T-shirt with Trump and Vance says “IT’S GONNA TAKE A FELON AND A HILLBILLY TO FIX THIS.” Americans begged for what’s coming. Bikers for Trump had at least 30,000 members. With inflation way up and much of the world aghast or laughing at Trump’s first two weeks, that number must be down, but who knows? Cultists must suck it up and cling tight when they’re cornholed.

With eateries closed for Tết, I bought pistachios and dried squid to eat in my room. Luckily, I also got free food from Nâu Land and another cafe. Both refused to accept any cash. Near the end of Trần Anh Hùng’s Cyclo, a grieving woman is invited by a homeless family to share their bánh chưng. She’s led towards them by a shirtless boy who’s obviously underfed. After so much jarring horror, this subtle moment loaded with symbolism is delicious. That he grabbed her hand is also telling.

In La Gi last week, a girl in red ao dai couldn’t get back inside a vast café, Kim Hùng Garden. Sobbing, she banged on a plate glass, “Daddy! Daddy!” Taking her by the hand, I led her to the door.

Square shaped to represent the earth, bánh chưng is said to have been invented 3,700 years ago by Lang Liêu. As the poorest prince, he couldn’t afford any exotic ingredient, only glutinous rice and pork. Though my version at An An didn’t even have meat, it was still amazing.

The couple at Nâu Land had a daughter about seven-years-old. Clinging to her mom, she’d help out. For clearing tables one time, she was rewarded with watermelon. Her swift execution proved she had done it many times. Smartly dressed and groomed, she’s very unlike rural Vietnamese kids from 25 years ago. Most were ragged.

Checking out of 9 Chỉ just after 5AM, I was looking forward to sitting at Nâu Land one last time, but they were late to open, so I started walking. Crossing Salt Water Stream, I entered my province. Notice how naturally I said that. In the dark, I saw people arriving for 6AM mass at Saint Anthony Church. At the first cafe that appeared open, I walked in. Astounded to find a freak walking barefoot in the dark, the lady asked where I was headed.

“Bình Châu Market.”

“Why aren’t you taking a motorbike taxi?”

“There are none at this hour.”

“There will be soon.” She meant one of her regular customers.

People get trashed during Tết. The guy never showed up, so she took me there herself. On the way, she said her husband had died 16 years ago. Business had nosedived. Often, she was just there alone to watch TV. Her married daughter worked in a factory near Saigon. Only once a year could she come home with her grandkids. I was so lucky to travel. She had never been anywhere.

I’m back in Vung Tau. This morning, the US wasn’t mentioned at the café on General Uprising. This was most unusual. Nearly each day, someone would gush over that greatest country ever. Complaining about Vietnam, Tèo would say, “This could never happen in America!” Liên would explain, “Every man there is equal to every other man.”

The madness unleashed by Trump and Musk is becoming too obvious. Following cosplaying Zelensky, Kristi Noem has dressed like a border agent then sexy cowgirl. For those whose lives are already wrecked by self-absorbed megalomaniacs, none of this can be too funny. Each morning, we wake to more farcical horrors. By dissolving the American mirage, Trump is doing the world a great favor, though.

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Note: My last self-published book has sold just one copy! Releasing 22 volumes in a year is not exactly smart marketing, but hey, do buy for that confused buddy, lover or relative my Marathon Sex, World’s Biggest Holocaust Museum and America’s Golden Age! He or she won’t talk to you ever again!

[Thắng Hải, 1/31/25]

[Thắng Hải, 1/31/25]

[Vung Tau, 1/26/25]

[Vung Tau, 2/2/25]