The Millennium Experience

Vietnam is a country on the move. The introduction of economic reforms—known as doi moi—more than 10 years ago acted as a catalyst, releasing the energies of the nation left behind after decades of war and isolation. Now wherever you travel in Vietnam—in the towns, the cities, and the countryside—you will see people on the go.
From the rows of pho (noodle soup) stalls lining the sidewalks to the numerous vendors selling postcards to the huge neon signs advertising Western chic, it is apparent that this drive to make it in this new era cuts across social boundaries. Billboards hawk everything from Lifebuoy soap to Heineken beer to the newest luxury apartments, and tower above streets jammed with motorbikes, bicycles, and more and more cars.

It seems as if, once day breaks, the entire population is up within an hour rushing headlong into another day. The roads are often gridlocked with motorbikes by 6:30 am, making you wonder just where so many people are going so early in the morning. The answer is in frantic pursuit of advancement, which ends each day only when everyone is too exhausted to continue. Most Vietnamese are in bed by 10 pm. All this goes on despite the continued presence of the old Communist Party cadres, who have by no means completely embraced the gung-ho, American-style capitalism that they themselves initiated.

It is especially in the main cities—Hanoi, Haiphong, Danang, and most of all Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon)—that you see this rush to make money. But travel just 30 mi from the heart of downtown Ho Chi Minh City or Hanoi and you still see farmers sowing rice seeds with water buffalos, and duck herders wooing their flocks across roads where the only hazards are passing bicycles. These scenes are no less exhilarating than those in the booming cities.

For Vietnam is a country of stunning beauty, its pristine coastline of golden beaches stretching 2,000 mi from tip to tail along the South China Sea. To the north Vietnam borders China along the rugged Hoang Lien mountain chain, a breathtaking landscape of deep valleys and tall, mysterious peaks shrouded in mist. Down the country’s enormous arched spine are forest-covered highlands, which can be as deliciously cool as a European spring. These mountains, as well as those in the north, are home to Vietnam’s ethnic minority groups—the Black Tai, Flower H’mong, Ede, and Muong—whose traditional way of life has been basically preserved despite the passing centuries and the ravages of war. The majority of Vietnamese, however, live along the coast, and in the country’s two major deltas—the Red River Delta in the north and the Mekong Delta in the south. Here the land fans out into patchworks of vivid-green, wet rice paddies, fruit orchards, and fishing hamlets—inhabited by a thousand generations of farmers and fishermen.

In the midst of this beautiful country, stark reminders of the high price paid by the Vietnamese people for their independence is never far away. Although few visible signs of the damage sustained by Vietnam remain, every town has its monument to war, be it a captured American jet fighter or a victorious North Vietnamese tank. And dotting the cities and countryside are huge Soviet-style memorials recording the millions that died in the country’s most recent struggle against outside forces.

For 2,000 years the country has been fending off foreign invaders, most notably the Chinese, Japanese, French, and Americans. The Chinese were the first to invade, and by the time they were finally driven out by Ngo Quyen in 938 AD they had ruled the country for 1,000 years. During the following centuries the Vietnamese migrated south in ever increasing numbers, battling with the kingdoms of Champa and Angkor as they went. These expansionist ambitions lead to conflicts between competing Vietnamese lords—the Nguyen and the Trinh—vying for control of the country.

The French inititially entered the scene at the beginning of the 19th century by invitation from the Nguyen lords who sought assistance in crushing a rebellion against them. But by the mid-19th century, the French had taken over by force, annexing large parts of Vietnam to create the colony of Cochin China. The Japanese occupation during World War II interrupted the French monopoly, briefly. With Japan’s surrender, the French returned to rule Vietnam, but not without conflict: By 1946 anti-French sentiments developed into the French-Indochina War.

The French were defeated at Dien Bien Phu in 1954, and the country was split into two under the Geneva Accords that same year. Cold-War concerns drew the American military into Vietnam, which lead to full-scale U.S. involvement in the Vietnam War. But American firepower only reinforced the conviction among many Vietnamese that they would not be defeated. And the 1968 Tet Offensive was the turning point. By 1973 most U.S. troops had left the country, and the Saigon regime soon fell.

But strife did not end there for the Vietnamese. Following Khmer Rouge border incursions in 1978, Vietnam became involved in armed conflict with Cambodia until 1989, effectively ending the “killing fields” of Pol Pot. In response to Vietnam’s involvement in Cambodia, the Chinese invaded northern Vietnam in 1979, devastating much of the countryside and many towns and villages. But the Vietnamese army repulsed the Chinese and for the first time in decades lived in relative peace. They were not, however, without a new set of visitors: the Soviets.

Now that the Soviets have departed, what becomes evident is the Vietnamese’s amazing resilience after so many thousands of years of conflict. From each of their foreign rulers they have taken what appealed to them and melded the most dissonant elements of foreign cultures into a way of life uniquely their own. When you visit Vietnam, you can’t help but marvel at the Vietnamese people’s endurance. Waifish, silk-clad women bear yokes hung with baskets of rice weighing 10 times their own weight. Or build roads, protected only by a conical hat and a perfectly white handkerchief tied over nose and mouth. You also can’t help but admire their panache: Do not be surprised to encounter a pair of bareheaded men careening on a motorbike through city traffic at the height of a midday downpour, the driver tooting his horn with a soggy cigarette in his mouth, his companion, arms outstretched, balancing a large pane of glass on his knees. That mixture of practicality and bravado is in some ways the essence of Vietnam, and it is what’s taking the country into the future.