Vietnamese Postcard & Malaysian Aerogram 1994

On July 6, 1994, I mailed this card from Malaysia. It was a leftover from Vietnam, from which I’d sent some cards in late June.

I don’t remember seeing the upmarket Rex Hotel in Saigon, though perhaps we walked by it. The hotel is still around.

Mainly, the card was about how we weren’t in Vietnam anymore. I wrote: We’re in Georgetown, Penang Island. I didn’t come here two years ago. It has a quiet, pleasant feel so far.

Three days later, I wrote a letter about our time in Vietnam, using a Malaysian aerogram. Do such things even exist any more? I’d rather not find out.Malaysian aerogram 1994 Malaysian aerogram 1994

A bit of an education, these aerograms. I didn’t know — and I didn’t remember until I looked at it today — that the hibiscus was the national flower of Malaysia. Specifically, the Hibiscus rosa-sinensis. As for the Rafflesia, also known as the stinking corpse lily, it is one bizarre flower.

Fifty Malaysian cents was a deal, though = U.S. 20 cents at the time. That was the same price as a postcard stamp.

In my recollection, Saigon was the opposite of quiet. In the letter I called it a “busy, energetic city.”

One of the things to do there is sit and watch the streets from the sidewalk cafes. You can see whole families balanced on motorcycles, and fewer riders (but not always solo) on bicycles, tricycles, rickshaws, and other motorized thingamabobs, numerous vendors and hawkers, kids kicking balls, idlers, beggars, dogs, cats, and roosters.

Churches After Lunch

“Nothing matters but the weekend, from a Tuesday point of view.”

Lyrical wisdom from The Kings, a Canadian band who had only one hit in the United States that I know of (or two, depending on how you count the songs). I don’t think I’m going to look it up to confirm that notion. It’s been more than 40 years, after all, and that level of detail doesn’t matter much.

Lunch on Saturday was in Uptown, specifically near the Argyle El station, which is home to a sizable number of Vietnamese immigrants and their descendants. Once upon a time, at a small strip center in the neighborhood, there was a pho restaurant that had the distinction (for me) of being the first place I tried pho. It was the also first restaurant we ever took Lilly to, when she was exactly a month old in December 1997. I’m glad to say she slept through the entire experience in her detached car seat, next to our table. The other patrons were probably glad, too.

That restaurant is gone – or has moved, its space taken by the next-door Vietnamese grocery store – so we repaired to a North Broadway storefront pho spot. Actually much larger than a typical storefront, with room in back for a small stage for live music, colorfully decked out with a handful of small spotlights ready for action, as we saw at some of the larger restaurants in Saigon. Lunch was filling and as good as pho almost always is. Who can ask for more?

After lunch we walked the few blocks to Saint Thomas of Canterbury Catholic Church in Uptown. I lived not far away for a number of years, but had no idea it was there.St Thomas of Canterbury, Chicago St Thomas of Canterbury, Chicago

Another unusual church style, at least for Chicago. Colonial Meeting House, though looking a bit more Georgian than that, my sources tell me. An architect name Joseph W. McCarthy, not to be confused with the number-one proponent of McCarthyism from Wisconsin, did the design. He’s yet another noted designers of churches, back when that was a growth industry.St Thomas of Canterbury, Chicago St Thomas of Canterbury, Chicago St Thomas of Canterbury, Chicago St Thomas of Canterbury, Chicago

Many of the shrines in the church reflect the local population, as shrines tend to do.St Thomas of Cantibury, Chicago

In case you want to know who the 17 Martyrs of Laos are, a poster at the back of the nave tells you. Martyrs figure prominently at Saint Thomas, fitting right in for a church honoring a churchman murdered in a church.Saint Thomas of Canterbury

Later in the day, in fact the last place we visited on Saturday, was St. Ita Catholic Church in Edgewater, at the edge of my old stomping grounds in Andersonville.St. Ita, Chicago

“St. Ita Parish was founded in Edgewater in 1900. On October 23, 1923, His Eminence George Cardinal Mundelein commissioned Architect Henry J. Schlacks to design and build a new church specifically in French Gothic design for St. Ita Parish,” the local parish web site says. I’ve seen a number of his churches.

“The current church, which opened in 1927, was the capstone of Henry Schlacks’ distinguished career as an ecclesiastical architect…. The open tower appears airy and delicate, yet it contains 1,800 tons of Bedford limestone and rises to 120 feet in height. Elaborate Gothic detailing marks the altar, but the medallion windows containing more than 200,000 pieces of stained glass, designed by Schlacks, are the real highlight of the interior.”

I have a vaguely remember visiting the church on a cool rainy Saturday – sometime in the late ’80s, maybe? — but not lingering for too long inside because a wedding was in progress. Last Saturday, cool and rainy, another wedding was in progress.St. Ita, ChicagoSome other time I might see those many pieces of glass, artfully arrayed.

Vietnam 1994, But the Postcard Picture is Much Older

Tremendous rain on Saturday morning. By later in the day, most everything was dry, including my deck. The storm had left behind humidity but also enough wind to lessen that sticky feeling. The rest of the day was cloudy and about 75 F. A fine time to sit outside and do something close to nothing, and otherwise be a bit too leisurely.

From the postcard files: one I sent from Vietnam, dated June 29, 1994. I must have gotten a collection of cards somewhere, maybe a postcard vendor in the street — they were usually older children — and sent all of them. This one says it’s No. 8.

Vietnam Postcard Vietnam Postcard

The card says it depicts the central market in Rạch Giá, a city southwest of Saigon, by a photographer named Nadal. It has the look of earlier in the 20th century, and it seems that one Fernand Nadal was active with a camera in this part of the world ca. 1930.

We went that direction to visit the Mekong Delta, but didn’t make it down to Rạch Giá. I sent the card anyway, contrary to my usual practice, probably because I didn’t have that many cards. You couldn’t count on running into postcard-wallahs just anywhere, even in Vietnam.

The Cao Dai Tay Ninh Temple of Dallas

A few years ago, I was browsing Google Maps, as one does, and I happened across the Cao Dai Tay Ninh Temple of Dallas. That was intriguing. I wanted to take a look.

Usually when I visit Dallas, I spend time in the northeast part of the city, at about 2 o’clock from downtown. The temple is in the southwest at about 8 o’clock from downtown, so I knew that it might be awhile before I made it down that way.

February 17 turned out to be the day we visited the Cao Dai Tay Ninh Temple of Dallas. This is the entrance. I think.
Cao Dai Tay Ninh Temple of DallasThe temple belongs to an overseas branch of the Caodai religion of Vietnam.

“Caodaism is a relatively new, syncretistic, monotheistic religion with strongly political character, established in 1926 in Southern Vietnam…” writes Md. Shaikh Farid. “It draws upon ethical precepts from Confucianism and Buddhism, occult practices from Taoism, theories of karma and rebirth from Buddhism and hierarchical organization from Roman Catholicism…

“This synthesis of elements adapted from other religions into a functioning religious movement manifests itself in such common Caodai practices as priestly celibacy, vegetarianism, seance inquiry and spirit communication, reverence for ancestors and prayers for the dead, fervent proselytism, and sessions of meditative self-cultivation.”

The temple is in a part of the city of that’s mostly devoted to light industrial buildings, mobile homes and undeveloped properties. Presumably, the site was affordable for local Caodai devotees.

I’d never heard of that religion until I made an excursion from Saigon in 1994 to the main Caodaist temple, the Holy See of the religion, in Tay Ninh, Vietnam. Here’s a picture I took of that building.

Cao Dai Tay Ninh Temple VietnamA more detailed description of the various influences that went into the building is here. An amalgam of Chinese and Indian and other elements, it seems.

The temple in Dallas, from roughly the same angle.
Cao Dai Tay Ninh Temple of DallasThe similarities between the Holy See and the Dallas temple were apparent at once, though I’m pretty sure that the Holy See is larger, and some details are different.

The Dallas temple is still a work in progress. This was especially noticeable when we went inside — a side door was open — and noticed construction materials and tools here and there.
Cao Dai Tay Ninh Temple of DallasThough smaller, the Dallas interior also had strong similarities to the one in Tay Ninh.
Cao Dai Tay Ninh Temple VietnamAs I understand it, services are at midnight, 6 a.m., noon and 6 p.m. We visited around 3 p.m., so no Caodai worshipers were around in Dallas. The tour in Vietnam was timed to see the noon service, so we saw the worshipers in their various colorful robes, each color with a distinct meaning best known within the religion, though ordinary worshipers are in white.

It’s good to travel to exotic places and see exotic things. Like you can in Dallas.

Dim Sum & Banh Mi

After watching a very short early afternoon parade on Argyle St. in Chicago, the thing to do is cross Broadway and eat dim sum at Furama. The laughing buddhas encourage you to do so when you get there.

Been a while since we’d had any dim sum, not sure how long. I also couldn’t remember the first time I’d ever had it. Not that that matters to anyone, even me, but I did wonder. It might have been at Furama more than 30 years ago, during one of my periodic visits to Chicago before I moved there. I know I was familiar with it by the time I had dim sum with friends in Boston on January 1, 1990.

I read in the Tribune that dim sum out of carts is considered passe these days. “When you go out for dim sum now in Chicago, after your server sets down your first pot of tea, you’ll scan other tables to see fellow diners reach with chopsticks into steamer baskets and small plates, then you’ll notice something missing: the carts,” Louisa Chu wrote last year.

“The iconic steaming silver serving carts were once considered signs of traditional dim sum, the Chinese weekend brunch where families gathered to share food and stories. But the customs and meal itself are changing, locally and globally.”

That’s mildly disappointing. The carts are important to the experience. Luckily, Furama still does it that way, and so we enjoyed the various things you get from dim sum carts: ha gow, siu mai, cheong fun, lo mai gai, und so weiter. One thing I’ve never acquired a taste for: fried chicken feet, fung zau.

Afterward, we went a block to the north to Ba Le Sandwich Shop to buy takeout Vietnamese food for later consumption. A dragon, maybe to mark the Tet, greeted customers.

Whenever we’re in the neighborhood, we visit Ba Le for banh mi sandwiches or other good things, since everything there is good, and not very expensive. When we lived in the neighborhood, we used to go there too. One spring day in 1998, when we took a very small Lilly on her first picnic in Lincoln Park, we stopped at Ba Le for provisions.

The 2018 Argyle Street Lunar New Year Parade

Last year, we went to see the Chicago Chinatown New Year Parade. It was a colorful event. Banners, dragons, bands, etc. The weather was good enough this year — above freezing, no rain — to go again, but instead we opted for the Argyle Street Lunar New Year Parade on the North Side of Chicago on Saturday. I wondered how it would compare.

The short answer: it was a lot shorter. Fewer of everything. Still, not a bad parade. At 1 pm it started, fittingly, on Argyle Street, just west of the El tracks that run over the street. asia on argyle, as the letters just below the tracks say. I took the picture after the parade, when the street got back to normal.

From there, the parade headed east on Argyle; we stood just east of the El tracks. Argyle is the focus of what used to be known as New Chinatown, but in fact the neighborhood is more Vietnamese than anything else, with plenty of Vietnamese restaurants, grocery stores and shops. I’m a little surprised the event isn’t more specifically Tet.

Dragons started things off.

Followed by politicos. I think.
Various floats.
A few colorful banners.
One band, from the Admiral Hyman Rickover Naval Academy High School.
With flag girls.
Some veterans.
And a costumed character or two.
Guess he’s the school mascot. A cat walking in a Year of the Dog parade.

bản đồ thế giới

Word is there will be cold rain tomorrow. At least it won’t be snow, and at least it’s the beginning of the end of winter. Today was sunny and above freezing. So cloudless, in fact, that I was inspired to take a picture of the clear blue sky.

Feb 1, 2016 Sky Over IllinoisI don’t know if I’ve ever taken that kind of picture before. Clouds, yes. Trees in front of a clear sky, yes. But straight up azure? It was surprisingly hard to get the camera to take the shot, I suppose since the sensors don’t sense anything nearby to focus on.

One thing I did over the weekend was thumb through some of my maps. I can’t quite call it a collection, since there’s no system to it, and I haven’t been going out of my way to acquire them over the years. Mainly they’ve been useful purchases, such as in London or Berlin, and they’ve accumulated.

My Vietnamese-language world map, on the other hand, was a souvenir. I’m pretty sure I got it in Saigon. At the top it says it’s a bản đồ thế giới, except it’s all capitals. But it does feature some of the intricate diacritical marks that characterize Vietnamese.

Here’s Vietnam’s neighborhood.

VietMap2And North America.

VietMapIn case you need to know it, the United States is Hoa Kỳ in Vietnamese. I’m just guessing, but that seems to be a translation of “united states.” Look at the map enough, though, and you’ll see many of the place names seem to be phonetic.

500 Dong

Tag line of recent email: Your Perfect Christmas Starts NOW! I object. Christmas doesn’t start now, and to quote W.C. Fields, “There’s nothing in this world that is perfect.”

Here is 500 dong, a bit of the currency of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, that nation’s official name even now, despite decades of various kinds of capitalist enterprise blooming there. I wonder if slightly brighter than average, but still adolescent Vietnamese boys ever jest among themselves, “Hey! Know what that means in English?”

500dongOBV500dong REVThe 500-dong note hasn’t been made since 2003, so little are they worth (500 dong = 0.022295 U.S. dollars). This one is dated 1988, so it’s the kind we might have handled in Saigon in 1994. Ho Chi Minh got to be on the obverse of all of the old notes, and gets to be on all of the post-2003 notes as well.

That’s when Vietnam switched to polymer banknotes, as some countries have. Canada and Australia also come to mind; I picked up a $5 Canadian polymer note in August, and among other things, it resists tearing. The new Vietnamese notes begin at 10,000 dong and go up to 500,000, or nearly $22.30, which probably still has considerable purchasing power in the Socialist Republic. Two hundred to 5,000 dong have been relegated to coins.

On the reserve is the port of Haiphong. I’m pretty sure I first heard of the place in the context of the mining of Haiphong Harbor, which I just learned the U.S. Navy called Operation Pocket Money.

A Passing Coconut Boat

I’m done with Orwell for now, though I need to find more of his essays and other writings and dip into them. So I’m taking up some of the travel books I have around the house but haven’t gotten around to. Such as The Great Railway Bazaar by Paul Theroux (1975), which I’m reading now. Somehow or other I’d never read it, though I’ve had a copy for a long time.

Other unread titles I have around the house include Journey to Portugal (Jose Saramango), three books by Evelyn Waugh (Remote People, Ninety-Two Days, and Labels), and The Happy Isles of Oceania (also Theroux). Or the subject at hand might be Far Away, rather than travel, since some of the books are about spending extended periods in far away places, such as Under the Mountain Wall: A Chronicle of Two Seasons in Stone Age New Guinea, Seven Years in Tibet, and Out of Africa.

The Great Railway Bazaar is justly famous as a tale of months of rail travel in Asia in the early ’70s. Lately I’ve finished the chapters about traveling through Sri Lanka, and was struck by how impoverished the country was 40 years ago. In some sense I must have known that, but mostly I’ve been used to reading or hearing about the decades-long civil war there, and then its more recent economic growth. Time flies, places change.

Which brings me to this picture. Vietboat 1994In June 1994, we were traveling down the Mekong in Vietnam, and we came very near to this coconut boat, and I happened to be ready to take a picture. Vietnam is and was a major producer of coconuts – 1.25 million metric tons in 2013, compared with 1.07 million metric tons in 1994 (a handy Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations interactive web site tells me this).

But never mind the production numbers. What became of the people in the boat? Are the parents still running a coconut boat, or did they ever really specialize in that? The child would be an adult now, assuming he survived the perils of third-world childhood, and very likely he did. What’s he up to? Or was it a girl? Just another set of minor unknowables here in the hyperconnected Information Age.

A Thousand Words About Pho

Found a new place for pho not long ago, not far from where we live. Once upon a time, the only place we knew for pho, besides Vietnam itself, was Argyle Street on the North Side of Chicago. But good food tends to spread.

Why go on about it in words when this image will speak for me?

March 2014 phoAh, muy delicioso.