New Vietnam looks forward
HO CHI MINH CITY - At an elegant faux French villa that is the latest hot spot for this city's young and beautiful, the bewitching hour has passed, but the night rages on. Never mind that the country's "social evil" laws dictate that bars and restaurants close by midnight. Vietnamese hipsters in sunglasses groove to pulsing techno music. Expatriate businessmen refill their glasses of Hennessy cognac. And a waiter delivers something called an Illusion, garnished with a tiny American flag, to a table where locals are discussing plans for a movie. Unlike dozens of other films featuring Vietnam, theirs will be about love, not war.
"It's about breaking away from what everyone thinks Vietnam is about," says art director Thai Nguyen. "There is so much promise here." That sense of possibility is, perhaps, nowhere keener than on the tourism front. Three decades after the U.S. defeat in what Vietnamese call the American War, and three years since the two nations signed a bilateral trade agreement, U.S.-branded hotels such as Sheraton have opened. U.S.-based tour operators are venturing in. And in December, United Airlines began regular flights to Ho Chi Minh City - still called Saigon by many - marking the first commercial American air link to Vietnam since the war.
No wonder the tourism industry is eyeing this market. International visitation increased tenfold between 1990 and 2002, and tourism income has risen an average of 25 percent annually since 1990, to $1.3 billion last year. Spurring Vietnam's growing appeal: It's different, it's safe, and it's undiscovered. In an increasingly homogeneous world, Vietnam exudes exoticism. It is both locked in the past and on a rapid-fire trajectory into the future.
Cyclo cabs jockey for space among swarms of Chinese-made motorcycles buzzing like killer bees along the broad boulevards of Hanoi and Saigon. Locals hunker down at hundreds of tiny sidewalk eateries, while stylish restaurants serve Asian-accented international fare. Barbers still ply their craft in curbside chairs, but the number of plush day and resort spas is growing.
For security-conscious travelers, Vietnam is regarded as a politically stable haven. The Ho Chi Minh Trail, the former Viet Cong jungle supply route, is a recently completed two-lane road. The Hanoi Hilton, the moniker for the notorious prison that housed American POWs, now refers to a luxe hotel.
A decade ago, there were few decent hotels. Today, 18 lodgings have the government's five-star rating. Among them, Hanoi's century-old Sofitel Metropole, past haunt of Charlie Chaplin, Somerset Maugham and Jane Fonda, has a new wing, but retains its French Colonial elegance and top-notch service. In Saigon, the '60s-era Caravelle Hotel has sprouted a 24-story tower. But its legendary rooftop bar, once a war correspondents' hangout, remains, though now it's jammed with tourists surveying a night sky lighted by corporate logos. Farther south, upscale beach resorts are beginning to appear along the country's 2,000-mile coast.
The latest, Ana Mandara's Evason Hideaway, which opened in November on an island off Nha Trang several hours north of Saigon, features bungalows starting at $400 a night, with private pools and free-standing wooden bathtubs. In Danang, the five-star Furama Resort, whose vast marble and wood interiors are said to be a favorite of the country's power elite, has a swath of beach to itself. For now, anyway. Plans for a U.S.-backed 1,000-room luxury hotel and villa complex next door have just been announced.
Trendy train service
Travelers venturing to northwestern hill tribe country can arrive on an overnight train whose wood-paneled compartments come with fresh flowers and crisp linens. On Halong Bay, an expanse of jade-green water and limestone islands three hours west of Hanoi, Chinese junks offer white-glove service to overnight guests. The latest twist comes this summer, when operator Huong Hai Junks unveils a boat with fitness facilities, spa services and high-speed Internet. In urban areas, American fast-food franchises have yet to take root, but purveyors of extreme luxury - Bulgari, Cartier - have. It's this sort of commercial vigor that causes visitors to form air quotes when mentioning communism in Vietnam.
"I thought there would be more of a culture clash, considering the reaction I got from people at home who said, 'You're going to Vietnam? On vacation? Why?' " says Lisa Hawes of Santa Clara, Calif., who was on a 12-day visit last month. "I said, 'Why not?' The food is great. The people are friendly. For a Communist country, it doesn't seem that repressive."
Even relatively longtime expatriates express awe at the accelerated change. Bobby Chinn, an American mover in Hanoi's increasingly sophisticated restaurant scene, props feet shod in leopard print on a coffee table in the stylish lounge of his namesake fusion restaurant and recalls typical mid-'90s restaurant fare: "Top Ramen with ketchup and sliced tomatoes and they called it pasta marinara." Green-tea smoked duck and blackened barramundi are staples on Chinn's menu. And competition is growing among chefs in Hanoi and Saigon, who whip up everything from "French tapas" to modern Vietnamese.
Tourist officials believe the boom is just beginning. Caravelle Hotel general manager Steven O'Grady recalls exhibiting at an international trade show in 2000 where "I just sat there twiddling my thumbs. This year, they were asking me to lunch." John Nguyen had a similar experience while establishing his Trails of Indochina tour company. In 1996, he visited U.S. travel agents "but 98 percent of them only knew Vietnam as a war country. No one was interested in selling it." Now, a number of high-end U.S. tour operators contract his services.
Still, despite some luxe trappings, this is a poor country, and vestiges of the war remain. Some, such as the Cu Chi Tunnels near Saigon, part of an extensive underground network that harbored Viet Cong, have become major attractions. The remains of an American B-52 bomber lie half-submerged in a lake in Hanoi. Not far away, near another lake now rimmed with swan-shaped pleasure boats, is a plaque noting the 1967 downing of Sen. John McCain's plane.
But among youthful Vietnamese - 30 percent were born after the conflict ended in 1975 - the war rarely surfaces as conversational fodder. "Forget the past and look to the future" is a sentiment so oft repeated that it has the ring of a government slogan. Tolerance is a core part of the national character, says one young adult.
"People my age don't know much about the war," says tour guide Nghia Nguyen, 28. "I look at the people coming here and I don't see them as the people who killed my uncle. I see them as visitors."
By Jayne Clark - USA Today - January 30, 2005
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