Frequent Traveller (Cathy Dixon #1) (15 page)

April 2009

Having been established as a city for more than one thousand years, Hanoi is an immensely popular tourist attraction in South East Asia. It is also one of the fastest growing cities in the world. Currently, it enjoys a strong economic growth from tourism and other service sectors such as banking and finance. But these achievements have not come easily for Hanoi.

The city, alongside the rest of Vietnam had been dominated by Chinese dynasties in its earlier years. The French occupied it in 1873 and the Japanese occupied it in 1940. The French, however, came back to occupy Vietnam in 1945 which split the country into two sections, North Vietnam and South Vietnam. Hanoi became the capital of North Vietnam in 1954.

During this period, any hope for peaceful living was short lived when the city's transportation facilities were continually bombed. At the time, South Vietnam was embroiled in bitter battle and North Vietnam was forced to take a side in a war that would later involve nineteen countries.

Initially, North Vietnam fought against France to maintain its independence. But eventually, it pointed its weapons towards South Vietnam who publicly called it a "puppet state" for allowing talks and negotiations with Western countries. The United States government rallied its involvement as “necessary”. It was their intention to prevent South Vietnam from becoming a communist state. However, this resulted in numerous controversies especially over the use of repeated chemical spray from 1961 to 1971.

Different types of these sprays were formulated to destroy rice crops and other plantations by the South. The world would come to know of these incidences when the strongest chemical spray, Agent Orange was sprayed across South East Asia. It is estimated that twelve million gallons of Agent Orange were used in an effort to weaken the opposition. The Vietnamese government has made recent claims that the Dioxin in this spray was so potent it still affects at least four million of its people. This claim, however, has been vehemently denied by the United States.

Almost thirty-five years later, 30th April holds bittersweet memories for those involved in the Vietnam War. It marked the end of a war that claimed the lives of more than one million soldiers and two million civilians, in the course of nineteen years and two hundred days. It also marked the beginning of a new country, as North and South Vietnam came together.

For the whole months of April, May and June, selected MoonStar properties had worked with a group of independent photographers to feature selected war-time exhibitions, commemorating war veterans and current serving military men and women, around the world. Each photographer received a function room they could convert into their studio, showcase their work there and allow viewers to purchase the pieces while receiving media publicity, courtesy of the MoonStar Communications team. Hundreds of photographers had pitched their portfolios and tributes, each with a different angle. However, only twelve photographers had been selected. Each would be given one week in a different MoonStar property with complimentary accommodation and meals.

Walking around the photo exhibition at the Ha Dong Room, Cathy stopped at one particular shot that tugged at her heartstrings. A young, good looking soldier was seen hugging his family at an emotional farewell in 1971. His wife clung onto him for dear life. Tears streamed down her face while his two toddlers held onto the soldier's legs. The picture on the right, showed the same soldier in present day. He was now a decorated war veteran. A short write-up from the photographer who had pieced the exhibition together, accompanied the photo. A landmine had blown off both the soldier's feet and he had returned to his family, bearing no resemblance to the person who had left them. Unable to cope with the change that war had unleashed on him, the soldier spiralled towards what he was now, a broken man of sixty-three, without family and living on a measly pension. All sentiments from the first picture were definitely long gone.

That was the theme of this particular exhibition, "Vietnam's Heroes, Yesterday & Today". Each picture was a glimpse into the past, where a hopeful soldier fought for his country accompanied by a picture and a write-up of how the war had affected the person's life and family. Most pictures came with gripping stories of loss. Mothers who lost sons; wives who lost husbands; newlyweds who had barely made it past their honeymoons and most moving of all children who barely remembered their fathers, found this exhibition as another way to piece together the loss they had experienced, but not necessarily remembered feeling.

Heroic pictures of soldiers who survived places like the "Hanoi Hilton" were also on display. This had been the nickname given to the most notorious prisoner of war camp, otherwise known as Hao Lo which translates to Hell's Hole. There were also images and write-ups of soldiers who had fought off every demon in themselves to overcome the aftermath of war, resulting in business ventures, real estate development and a war veteran who had started a flying school.

Amidst the tragedy and soul tearing pain of disaster, there were also pictures of friendships formed and lovers found. Young soldiers who had joined the army, found themselves sealed within a brotherhood that would last a lifetime.

An especially striking photo of a young nurse captured Cathy’s attention. This nurse had joined the Red Cross on her twenty-first birthday. In the two years she had served as a field nurse and after attending to more than three hundred wounded soldiers, she fell in love with a flight sergeant whose plane was gunned down and had come to her with a broken leg.

Now her husband of more than thirty-two years, the soldier was quoted as saying, "She saw a broken leg, I saw my saving grace."

Some pictures were a depiction of two cultures coming together, soldiers who found new roots amongst Vietnamese families. Some returned for marriage, while others strengthened their bond through continual visits and the introduction of their respective younger generations to each other.

As Cathy looked across the room, she caught a glimpse of the photographer deep in thought as he answered questions from a reporter. Even as he answered the question and smiled, his eyes crinkled up as it always did. Cathy had told Thomas about the exhibition but had stressed that she would not be involved in the selection process, so bias was not a concern. She knew he deserved a big break.

He had been given his first camera at ten. It was a chunky gadget using film and he had raced across the street that Christmas morning as soon as he had figured out how it worked.

"I want my first picture to be of you." He had clamoured into her house and snapped her picture as she opened presents.

Looking up, Thomas caught her gaze. He returned the smile with similar memories in his mind.

"Stop taking my picture, Tom Tom!" she had screamed at him when he had insisted on taking a close up of her first pimple.

A special treasure formed when love and memories brought two individuals together. He was certain of this and knew she felt the same way.

He walked up to Cathy, gently squeezing her elbow as discreetly as possible. "I was really, really hoping you would be here, Sweets," he whispered.

She nodded and smiled, it felt so good to have him close to her. "I wouldn't have missed it for all the fruit loops in the world."

Thomas laughed, "You remembered."

At the age of eight he had smelled Cathy's long, thick red hair. It smelt of oranges and it had made him laugh. At that age, he never understood why someone would want to walk around, smelling like a fruit. He had teased her mercilessly as she had pursed her lips and cried buckets of tears.

He had tried everything to calm her at the time, even offered his favourite blue bicycle to her but she wouldn't stop crying and then he had said, "Cat, I love you more than all the fruit loops in the world. Please stop crying."

Her tearful eyes had sparkled as she laughed and her red locks had bobbed up and down when she had raced off on his bicycle. Now, they were older and laughing about different things but it was the same smell of mandarins he looked forward to. Eight or twenty-eight, she would always have his heart.

"You know, I'd love to grab you, give you a massive cuddle and have everyone in this room see how much I've missed you," he whispered to her. "Really? And I'd love to see you try ... Did you get my note about tonight? And the cap, please don't forget to wear it so the cameras won't realise who is coming into my room," she said as she turned around and offered him a cheeky smile.

"Yea, I'll be there. No way I'm going to miss having dinner in bed with you or wait was that tomorrow's plan?"

"Stop it Tom Tom. You're going to make me laugh and then people are really going to start noticing us. Right now, I'm the Vice President of Corporate Communications for MoonStar, congratulating you on your excellent work and to thank you for joining us on this special project."

"No, tell me really ... what do you think about it?"

"Tom, it's out of this world and I'm sure there'll be loads of good publicity about it."

She paused as they both glanced around the room, sipping in the various shots of people and memories. "You've captured raw emotion and I think people can relate. And the amount of research, fact finding and attributions to previous photos. None of the others had come up with such an idea. Most of them wanted to go with a current perspective like Iraq, weapons, fighter jets but a tribute ... this is something else."

"Call it the ‘60s spirit or whatever but I'll never understand the necessity of war, Cat, how some people can undermine a human life or in some cases just ignore its value to kill and get a point through. It's rubbish. Like the My Lai massacre in 1968 when more than four hundred unarmed Vietnamese were raped, tortured and then murdered. The decision of life and death does not lie with us."

The rage in him was obvious and she knew this was a project he held close to his heart.

"War, weapons ... it's all a combination of man-made complications ... Hey, Tom Tom I think there's another reporter looking for you. I'll make a dash for it but don't forget tonight. I'll be waiting," said Cathy hastily. She moved away as quickly as she could, uncomfortable at the thought of getting caught with a reporter and Thomas, at the same time.

ZANZIBAR, UNITED REPUBLIC OF TANZANIA

June 2009

Singing sensation Freddie Mercury and fashion designer Farouque Abdillahi are recognised the world over for their talents. One was the lead singer of the legendary band, Queen while the other designed fashion apparel that were literally fit for royalty. Although, they may seem worlds apart the two personalities have a common link, they were both born in Zanzibar.

When translated from the Persian language, Zanzibar means "Iron Coast". It is also referred to as Spice Islands, with its economy largely dependent on produce such as cloves, cinnamon and pepper. Located in East Africa, Zanzibar consists of numerous small islands and two large ones known as Unguja and Pemba. Due to its size and popularity, the main island Unguja is known as Zanzibar or Stone Town.

Historically, Zanzibar was infamous for its slave trade. More than seventy thousand slaves a year had been sold to other countries in the mid-eighteenth century. Towards the later part of the nineteenth century, it was ruled by the British. Zanzibar gained independence from British rule in 1963.

Independence in Zanzibar meant more bloodshed. Its left wing party rallied for support towards a larger African majority in Parliament, in comparison to those of the ruling Arab party. Within only a month, tens of thousands of people were killed and expelled. Some managed to escape to other parts of Africa and other countries.

Over the years, economic growth has been a great challenge for this city. On more than one occasion, large parts of the islands have been without electricity for more than a month due to bad maintenance. Its main port is in such bad state that no repair work can improve its functionality. In an area where a working person earns an average of $200 a month, Zanzibar's people are used to hard times. Tourism has only just started to play a key role in developing communities, offering better jobs for the locals. Foreign hotels and restaurants are now a common scene in the city.

It was on one particularly hot afternoon that a couple was seen sitting at the far end of a dimly lit restaurant. Their conversation hushed, their intimate mannerisms provided onlookers the impression that they were passionately involved in a marital affair or in the midst of a sneaky rendezvous during working hours. The man appeared to be in his late forties while the woman was in her mid-twenties. Both were dressed in formal working attire with the woman's short skirt, catching the interest of many a male eye when she crossed and uncrossed her legs.

"Sometimes I really think it's not worth it ... if anyone were to find out what I was up to, I would be in so much trouble and it's not at all worth the effort. But when I think of the money and all the times they have screwed me over," he murmured nervously.

"I don't even know what's the big deal. You know I deserve the special treatment, you're more than well compensated, plus the hotel gets their room nights. It's a win-win situation for everyone," Neema said.

Russell nodded and chuckled.