Bimat--A Vietnamese Adventure

by Robert A Webster

  “Oh,” said Stu, “I wonder what that could be about. Hang on, I’ll tell Spock and the girls.”

  Stu told the three who could see from his expression that something was wrong and knew Pon would be worried.

  Stu glanced at Spock, who now looked concerned as Stu again spoke to Pon and asked. “Are you still at Bangkok airport, mate?”

  “Yes, I will stay here until I hear any news.”

  “Okay, wait there, we are on our way,” said Stu, and nodded to Spock as he heard Pon breathing a sigh of relief.

  “Thank you my friends, I will wait for you in the arrivals section, see you soon,” said Pon and hung up.

  Spock puckered his brow. “It may be something or nothing,” he said sounding curious, “but we better go and make sure everything’s okay.”

  Stu nodded. “Yep, and we need to go now, Shithead sounded frantic on the phone,” said Stu and shrugged, “if it turns out to be nothing and Kim has already turned up or contacted him, we can stay overnight in Bangkok and travel down here with them tomorrow.”

  “Yes,” said Dao, nodding, “you must go alone though, we have the shop to look after so we must stay here.”

  Moo threw Dao a furtive glance, as Spock nodded, looked at them, smiled, and said. “Right girls, pack our bags just in case; we could be going on another adventure.” He smirked at Stu and said, “I better go grab my hat.”

  Pon paced around the arrivals gate. Although he knew it was fruitless, he could think of nothing else to do for the two hours that it would take for Spock and Stu to get there. He called Kim’s mobile phone again, sighed, and then called Taksin.

  — Chapter Two —

  Ca leant back in the passenger seat feeling content. He noticed the speedometer read 120km/hr.

  “Slow down,” he said, putting his hand on the nervous drivers shoulder to reassure him. “We aren't in any hurry. The hard part is over.”

  The driver eased off the accelerator and the car slowed to 80km/hr.

  Ca looked at the driver. “Are you okay Tuong?”

  Tuong’s knuckles had turned white from gripping onto the steering wheel and with his voice trembling said, “Yes, fine.”

  Ca smiled. “Just relax we will soon be there?”

  He then looked at the passenger sat on the back seat, smiled, and in a soft tone, asked. “Are you okay?”

  The passenger glared at him, but said nothing.

  Still smiling, Ca faced forward, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes as his thoughts drifted back into memories.

  ****

  Ca was born in 1970 in the small seaside village of Phan Yar, a few kilometres South West of Ky Anh on the north east coast of Vietnam. Within a small bay of clear emerald water and shallow coral reefs, there’s a white sandy beach extending to a lush jungle scattered with coconut trees and shrubs. Off shore, huge rocks jutted from the calm ocean covered in sporadic patches of lush green foliage. These small uninhabited islands were home to many varieties of tropical birds and an idyllic setting for a young boy to grow up in.

  Ca’s real name was Gio-A Tho, but given the nickname, Ca, meaning fish in Vietnamese, as he was always playing in the rock pools as a child catching the small spry.

  He grew up in a small, wooden shack on the village outskirts close to the ocean. His mother, Diudang Tho, worked sun drying, salting, and curing fish that his father caught, which they sold on the village market.

  In 1973, his father Nguyen went with other village men to join the National Front for Liberation of South Vietnam, the Viet Cong, and sent to Cu Chi province to fight the Americans from the underground tunnels.

  Young Ca did not know what an American was or why they were fighting, but he and his elder brother Phaol took up their father’s role as fishermen. This was a happy time for Ca and because he was young and small, his brother did most of the work, leaving young Ca to potter around in the rock pools.

  Viet Cong soldier’s families received no communications, so Ca had almost forgotten about his father.

  One day in 1975, while playing in his favourite rock pool, he heard loud bangs, fireworks, and the sound of people cheering emanating from the village.

  Phaol, a muscular young teenager, sloshed his way out of the ocean and went over to Ca.

  Ca furrowed his brow, looked puzzled, and asked. “What’s happening Phaol?”

  Phaol stood with his hands on his hips looking concerned. “I don’t know,” he said and stood next to his young brother as an old jeep approached.

  Ca looked confused as he saw Pu-ed, the head of the village, driving the jeep with his mother and a fierce-looking man with them. As the jeep got closer, he looked up at his brother who trembled, his mouth quivering. “Who’s that man sitting with mother?”

  Phaol’s jaw dropped and then he yelled, “Father.” He then ran towards the oncoming jeep, with little Ca stumbling behind, trying to keep up.

  Over the next few years, Vietnam changed. The Northern army took the southern capitol, Saigon in April 1975, thus ending the Vietnam War.

  The Northern armies backed by the communist bloc were victorious against the South, and thanks to President Nixon’s policy, the *Vietnamization, Americans scarpered and North and South Vietnam unified.

  The family went back to a normal routine, and young Ca now understood a little about war, due to his father screaming in his sleep about his dead friends.

  He told the brothers about the poisonous centipedes and bloodsucking leaches that roamed around the muddy, dank, musty Cu Chi tunnels and the screams of wounded men in the underground hospital section.

  He wasn’t the same man who Phaol remembered. This once peaceful and gentle fisherman now had a cold, vacant expression.

  The family were given the land that they lived on, plus a hectare of lush fertile land 500 metres away, for the bravery that Nguyen Tho had displayed during the war.

  With the new Vietnamese government having little money and not enough to pay the soldiers, they gave them land instead.

  This pleased the family. They went about their usual business of fishing, but now tended their land.

  Several months later, while Ca, Phaol, and their father Nguyen splashed the water to scare fish into their net, they heard a vehicle’s horn sound several times.

  They went to the water’s edge and saw several jeeps with soldiers in uniform coming towards them. Most of the soldiers they recognised as Viet Cong soldiers from the last war and Nguyen’s old comrades who lived in Phan Yar, along with several of the older village boys.

  Nguyen went over to the jeeps where an officer, unknown to Nguyen, greeted him. Nguyen got into the jeep and it drove the short distance to the Tho’s wooden shack and Nguyen and the officer went inside.

  The two boys walked the short distance back to their home. They passed the parked jeeps outside, and, as they reached the open door of the shack, they saw their mother inside, before their father noticed them and closed the door.

  “Are you coming with us, Phaol?” asked one young soldier from a Jeep.

  Phaol puckered his brow and looked bemused. “Why, where are you going?”

  The soldier chuckled and said. “To Cambodia, to kick the Khmer Rouge arses.”

  The others soldiers laughed, but Phaol did not understand and shrugged.

  Several minutes later, their mother, father, and the officer emerged. The two boys walked towards their parents. Nguyen, now dressed in his old beige Viet Cong uniform, got into the front seat of a jeep and looked at his sons.

  “Take care of your mother,” he said, and showing no emotion, stared forward as the Jeep pulled away.

  The astonished boys looked agog as the jeep drove away from their shack and their mother came and stood beside them.

  Ca looked up at his mother’s stern face and asked. “Where’s father going?”

  Diudang looked at her bemused son and told them. “Your Father has gone to help the Cambodians who have nasty people in charge called Khmer Rouge. Other Cambodians are figh
ting them but need help.”

  Phaol and Ca looked confused and Phaol asked. “Why? If Cambodians are fighting Cambodians, what does that have to do with Vietnam?”

  Diudang looked at her young sons, and with tears welling up in her eyes, whispered. “Because the world’s gone mad son.” She wiped away her tears, went into the small outdoor kitchen area, and shouted, “dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”

  Several months later, a Vietnamese government official and a soldier came to the family home in an army jeep.

  The official got out and went to speak with Diudang who was drying fish at the side of their shack. He told that her husband was last seen in Neak Loueng, a large tropical-forest on the outskirts of Phnom Penh, where much of the fighting had taken place.

  He explained that Nguyen and his troops were engaged in a bloody battle with the Khmer Rouge. Although they had lost control in Phnom Penh, the Khmer Rouge still fought viciously to regain control and bloody battles still raged on the city outskirts and in the jungles. The man told Diudang that Nguyen’s troop had forced the Khmer Rouge to flee further into the jungle, but Nguyen had not reported into base. He said that many bodies could not be found due to the dense jungle vegetation and a wide, fast-flowing branch of the Mekong River, which dragged bodies under.

  The expressionless faced man told Diudang that her husband, Hạsĩ, Nguyen Tho, was therefore now presumed dead and handed her a scrap of paper with details hand written on it with a government stamp. Diudang looked at her husband’s death certificate and as her eyes filled with tears the official got back into jeep and it drove away.

  The year was 1986. Ca had grown into a small but handsome young man. He still lived with his mother on the beachfront and still fished, but he was now alone, as his brother had gone to work in Ho Chi Minh City a few years earlier.

  They employed two boys from the village to tend their land and crops that now flourished. They had rich soil, and although a little sandy, they were able to grow Serrano peppers, luffa beans, aubergines, and other seasonal vegetables.

  Vietnam was transformed when a new reformer government came to power led by 71-year-old Nguyen Van Linh, who became the party's new general secretary.

  The new government turned Vietnam from a command economy into a socialist-oriented market economy. With the authority of the state remaining unchallenged, private ownership of farms and companies engaged in commodity production, deregulation, and foreign investment were encouraged, while the state maintained control over strategic industry.

  The economy of Vietnam subsequently achieved rapid growth in agricultural and industrial production, construction, and exports.

  This was an exciting and liberating time for Ca and the Vietnamese people.

  Ca frequently visited the discos and night scenes in Ky Anh town and regularly sang along with the local bands. He never had a steady girlfriend and did not want one.

  One hot, humid afternoon, Ca sat on the wooden porch of the family’s new brick home that he renovated with funds that Phaol had sent home. He watched as a red Hyundai Excel 1.5 drove towards his house.

  ‘Who could this be?’ He wondered staring at the car looking intrigued. ‘We don’t get many visitors here, and none driving shiny new cars,’ he thought.

  The car pulled up in front of the porch and the driver got out carrying a map.

  The man smiled and bowed his head.

  Ca returned the bow and the man showed Ca the map. “Hello, could you help me? I am looking for this plot of land which I think is around here, but I am not too sure.”

  Ca looked at the map and could make out several familiar tracks close by. He went with the man back to the car and laid the map on the car bonnet in the direction they needed to travel.

  A middle-aged man got out of the car and stood beside them, while Ca explained the directions and pointed the way.

  The first man smiled and sounding relieved said. “Thanks a lot, we have been driving around in circles for hours. I am Go-Lhom, an architect and surveyor.”

  Ca smiled and said. “I am Gio-A but everyone calls me Ca.”

  The other man, who looked more official and had a superior demeanour, bowed and said. “Hello Ca, I am Thran Tangh.”

  Ca returned the bow and Thran looked at his house. “That’s a nice house; I am having one built on the plot of land where you showed us.” Thran smiled. “So it looks like we will be neighbours young Ca.” They thanked Ca and drove in the direction he had indicated.

  Ca went back and sat on his porch. ‘That is a huge chunk of land, so that will be a big house.’ He thought, ‘and Thran looked important in his designer suit and gold watch, I bet he is rich.’ He sniggered.

  Over the next few days, bulldozers, builders, surveyors, and Go-Lhom moved into the area and constructed corrugated tin shacks for the workers and their families, turning a construction site into a small community.

  After a few months, a large house took shape.

  As it was close by, Ca and his mother watched with interest, as did the other villagers, who had seen nothing so grand.

  Six months later, the large five-bedroom house was completed, with high external walls surrounding the property and grounds with a large metal gate at the front.

  The interior had a wide central staircase leading to the five bedrooms on the first floor, with a large dining room, living room, study and kitchen on the ground floor. A small building to accommodate staff was built at the back of the main property with a swimming pool at the centre of a vast sway of landscaped gardens.

  A gravelled pathway led from the entrance gate to the house’s large forecourt and garage.

  New plush furnishings arrived a few days later and once set up, the small community of builders dispersed.

  Pu-ed, the village headman and market owner felt annoyed when they left after doing a roaring trade from them over the past few months.

  Several days after the workers left, a saloon car arrived and went through the gates. It pulled up outside the front door; where three people got out and went inside.

  The villagers heard within minutes of the newcomer’s arrival and Pu-ed announced they would throw a party in their honour. He delegated himself to invite the new arrivals.

  The villagers rallied around to cook meals and supplied the Saigon beer and rouo qoc liu, rice and kans grass: Vietnamese moonshine.

  Twilight saw the corrugated tin sheet covered open community centre alive with music and laughter.

  Villagers had set up a stage and a small diesel generator powered the lights, an old record player, and a microphone.

  Several villagers played Moon Lutes, and Bing Nams, similar to a harmonica, along with Thungs, bamboo xylophones, with the villagers dancing and singing.

  The new family arrived at 7pm, accompanied by Pu-ed, who got onto the small raised plywood stage at the front, grabbed the microphone, and addressed the village community.

  “Hello comrades and friends,” he said and held his hand out at the newcomers. “This is Thran, his lovely wife Nga, and their daughter Hern.” He smiled at them and bowed. “Welcome to Phan Yar village.” The Tangh family bowed, smiled at the crowd, and left the stage.

  The music started again and the villagers went back to their dancing, apart from Ca, who couldn’t take his eyes off Hern.

  He thought she looked to be around 14 or 15 years old and was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

  He and the other villagers looked surprised when Hern strode up to the record player, removed the record, and replaced it with one that she had taken out of a plastic bag containing several black vinyl records.

  The villagers went silent and looked at one another as they listened to an American pop song.

  Hern went on to the patch of land in the centre where everyone danced. Everyone stopped and looked at Hern now dancing. They all looked bemused for several minutes before they smiled and danced along; even though not understanding the lyrics.

  Ca smiled and edged his way toward
s Hern. He moved closer until he danced in front of her and said, “Hello Hern, my name is Ca.”

  Hern looked at Ca and smiled. “Hi Ca, how are you? ”

  “I am fine. Well, I am more than fine now,” said Ca with an impish smile. “I met your father a few months ago.”

  “Oh, well it’s nice to meet you Ca, and I hope we can be friends while I am here,” she said, and seeing the way the handsome young man gazed at her, she blushed.

  “I hope we can too,” said Ca, bobbing his head to the sound of the music.

  As the night wore on, the pair danced and chatted until the party finished.

  Ca awoke early the next day and walked the short distance into the village centre, to help clean up the mess from last night’s party. The market and village centre bustled with villagers, cleaning and setting out market stalls. Ca helped with the cleaning, and while washing down a piece of muddy pathway in front of his mother’s fish stall, he heard a soft voice behind him. “Good morning, Ca.” Ca swung around to face Hern.

  “Good morning,” said Ca, noticing how cute Hern looked in the first light of day. She seemed to gleam.

  Hern smiled. “How are you this morning?”

  “Fine,” said Ca. “You’re awake early, I thought you city folk slept all day,” he chuckled.

  “Very funny, I came to see if I could help clean before we leave for Hanoi this afternoon.”

  Ca frowned, gulped, and with a stammer in his voice said. “Leave… But you’ve only just arrived.”