In this provocative, hybrid documentary, the audience joins a present-day…
Which Way Is East: Notebooks from Vietnam
- Description
- Reviews
- Citation
- Cataloging
- Transcript
When two American sisters travel north from Ho Chi Minh City to Hanoi, conversations with Vietnamese strangers and friends reveal to them the flip side of a shared history. Lynne and Dana Sachs' travel diary of their trip to Vietnam is a collection of tourism, city life, culture clash, and historic inquiry that's put together with the warmth of a quilt.
WHICH WAY IS EAST starts as a road trip and flowers into a political discourse. It combines Vietnamese parables, history and memories of the people the sisters met, as well as their own childhood memories of the war on TV. To Americans for whom 'Vietnam' ended in 1975, WHICH WAY IS EAST is a reminder that Vietnam is a country, not a war.
The film has a combination of qualities: compassion, acute observational skills, an understanding of history's scope, and a critical ability to discern what's missing from the textbooks and TV news. (-The Independent Film and Video Monthly)
'Captures the Vietnam experience with comprehension and compassion, squeezing a vast and incredible country into an intriguing film.' - Portland Tonic Magazine
'The sound track is layered with the cacophony of bustling city streets, the chirps of cicadas and gentle rustles of trees in the countryside, and the visuals, devoid of travelogue cliches, are a collage of pictorial snippets taken from unusual vantage points.... What comes through is such a strong sense of the place you can almost smell it.' - The Chicago Reader
Citation
Main credits
Sachs, Lynne (filmmaker)
Sachs, Dana (filmmaker)
Distributor subjects
Cinema Studies; History (Vietnam War Era); Asia (Southeast); Asia; Vietnam; Cultural Studies; Cultural Anthropology; Sociology; Women's Studies; Family Relations; History (World)Keywords
WEBVTT
00:00:05.000 --> 00:00:13.000
[sil.]
00:01:05.000 --> 00:01:09.999
I’m now six years old. I would
lie on the living room couch,
00:01:10.000 --> 00:01:14.999
hang my head over the edge. But my hair
is swinging against the floor and watch
00:01:15.000 --> 00:01:19.999
the evening news upside down.
00:01:20.000 --> 00:01:28.000
[sil.]
00:01:40.000 --> 00:01:44.999
A frog that sits at the bottom of a well
00:01:45.000 --> 00:01:49.999
thinks that whole sky is only as big as
00:01:50.000 --> 00:01:54.999
the little of a pot.
00:01:55.000 --> 00:01:59.999
[sil.]
00:02:00.000 --> 00:02:08.000
[music]
00:03:40.000 --> 00:03:48.000
[sil.]
00:04:00.000 --> 00:04:04.999
It rains all night. After five years of
drought at home, I’m awake and listening.
00:04:05.000 --> 00:04:09.999
Staring out the window at a darkened
Saigon at Ho Chi Minh city,
00:04:10.000 --> 00:04:14.999
I hear a rooster crow from somewhere deep
in this cluster of apartment buildings.
00:04:15.000 --> 00:04:19.999
It’s 4:30. Sunlight slowly spreads
00:04:20.000 --> 00:04:24.999
across the cement wall in
my room turning it gold.
00:04:25.000 --> 00:04:29.999
I watch an elderly man in blue boxer shorts
fold up his bedding and began to do Tai Chi.
00:04:30.000 --> 00:04:34.999
A teenage girl turns on her radio.
In the mine,
00:04:35.000 --> 00:04:39.999
this gives the woman across the courtyard the cue to
begin sweeping. I wonder then about my sister Dana.
00:04:40.000 --> 00:04:44.999
After almost a year here does
she still notice all these?
00:04:45.000 --> 00:04:53.000
[sil.]
00:05:00.000 --> 00:05:08.000
[non-English narration]
00:05:20.000 --> 00:05:24.999
My friend Tu and I take my sister Lynne to visit a
pagoda in the Chinese neighborhood of Chilan(ph.).
00:05:25.000 --> 00:05:29.999
Tu takes Lynne’s hand and
leads her to the sanctuary,
00:05:30.000 --> 00:05:34.999
making sure she puts three sticks of burning
incense at every altar. Then to place oranges
00:05:35.000 --> 00:05:39.999
on the (inaudible) and tray in
front of one of the Buddhas.
00:05:40.000 --> 00:05:44.999
When the communist party took
power, they didn’t like Buddhists
00:05:45.000 --> 00:05:49.999
and they didn’t like (inaudible).
So my family stopped coming here.
00:05:50.000 --> 00:05:54.999
We forget about it for many years.
00:05:55.000 --> 00:06:00.000
Now the government say it’s okay. So
we are starting to remember them.
00:07:10.000 --> 00:07:18.000
[non-English narration]
00:07:20.000 --> 00:07:24.999
May 15th, my third day in Vietnam.
Driving through the Mekang delta,
00:07:25.000 --> 00:07:29.999
a name that carries so much weight. My mind is full of
words and my eyes are on a scavenger hunt for leftovers.
00:07:30.000 --> 00:07:34.999
Dana told me that there is ponds
full of bright green rice seedlings
00:07:35.000 --> 00:07:39.999
that are actually craters. The
inverted ghosts of bombed out fields.
00:07:40.000 --> 00:07:48.000
[sil.]
00:07:55.000 --> 00:07:59.999
At Kuchi(ph.)
00:08:00.000 --> 00:08:04.999
we pay three U.S. dollars so that the tour guide will lead us
through a section of this well known 200 kilometer tunnel complex.
00:08:05.000 --> 00:08:09.999
This is the engineering
masterpiece of the Viet Cong.
00:08:10.000 --> 00:08:14.999
A matrix of underground kitchens and
living rooms and army headquarters.
00:08:15.000 --> 00:08:19.999
As I slide through the
narrow dusty passageway,
00:08:20.000 --> 00:08:24.999
my head fills up with those old war
movies dad took us to in the 70s.
00:08:25.000 --> 00:08:29.999
My body is
00:08:30.000 --> 00:08:34.999
way too big for these tunnels. I can
hardly breathe. After five minutes,
00:08:35.000 --> 00:08:39.999
I come out gasping.
00:08:40.000 --> 00:08:44.999
We decide not to spend the extra
$10 it cost to shoot a rifle.
00:08:45.000 --> 00:08:49.999
[sil.]
00:08:50.000 --> 00:08:54.999
Sitting at the thatched roof hut, sipping
milk out of coconuts, I listen to Dana chat
00:08:55.000 --> 00:08:59.999
with the woman who runs the string
stand in the middle of the jungle.
00:09:00.000 --> 00:09:08.000
Ask her, I say.
00:09:30.000 --> 00:09:38.000
[sil.]
00:10:15.000 --> 00:10:23.000
[sil.]
00:11:20.000 --> 00:11:24.999
We got lost somehow and are beginning to realize
that we walked past the same bush three times.
00:11:25.000 --> 00:11:33.000
[sil.]
00:11:35.000 --> 00:11:39.999
In a nearby field, we
spot a one legged farmer
00:11:40.000 --> 00:11:44.999
with his two sons. They lead us
in silence through dense bush
00:11:45.000 --> 00:11:49.999
to the ruins of Misan(ph.) once the
intellectual center of Vietnam.
00:11:50.000 --> 00:11:54.999
Misan survived centuries of monsoons
and war before U.S. bombs scattered
00:11:55.000 --> 00:11:59.999
most of the ancient stone work
like gravel across the hillside.
00:12:00.000 --> 00:12:08.000
[sil.]
00:12:15.000 --> 00:12:19.999
We stand inside the tallest remaining
tower listening to the birds.
00:12:20.000 --> 00:12:24.999
It’s very cool, almost damp. One of
the boys offers us a hot soda pop.
00:12:25.000 --> 00:12:33.000
[music]
00:12:55.000 --> 00:12:59.999
I’ve been thinking about the way
people talk about time here.
00:13:00.000 --> 00:13:04.999
All you have to do is mention a
particular year and whoever is listening
00:13:05.000 --> 00:13:10.000
already knows the whole story.
00:13:15.000 --> 00:13:19.999
Behind that date lies the image of families
leaving the land date farm for generations
00:13:20.000 --> 00:13:24.999
and turning their backs on the
graves of their ancestors.
00:13:25.000 --> 00:13:29.999
Vietnam suit itself across the daily then.
Hundreds of thousands fled north of south
00:13:30.000 --> 00:13:34.999
depending on which ideology
they trusted most.
00:13:35.000 --> 00:13:43.000
[sil.]
00:13:45.000 --> 00:13:49.999
Hum(ph.) told me her father
headed north in 1954
00:13:50.000 --> 00:13:54.999
to fight with the revolutionary army. He
thought Ho Chi Minh could reunite the country
00:13:55.000 --> 00:14:00.000
within two or three years.
00:14:05.000 --> 00:14:10.000
[music]
00:14:25.000 --> 00:14:33.000
[sil.]
00:14:55.000 --> 00:14:59.999
In the old capital of (inaudible), I take
a meandering bicycle ride with Koy(ph)
00:15:00.000 --> 00:15:04.999
a university student friend of Dana’s.
00:15:05.000 --> 00:15:09.999
[music]
00:15:10.000 --> 00:15:14.999
During the 1968,
00:15:15.000 --> 00:15:19.999
tad offensive Way(ph.) became a
battlefield and the Viet Cong
00:15:20.000 --> 00:15:24.999
thinking Koy’s family was harboring South
Vietnamese soldiers burned down their house.
00:15:25.000 --> 00:15:29.999
Koy’s father had been collecting
books since he was a child
00:15:30.000 --> 00:15:34.999
and when the house burned, his booked
burnt with it. Koy says his father
00:15:35.000 --> 00:15:39.999
went crazy after that. Past the hospital,
00:15:40.000 --> 00:15:44.999
we take a turn off the main road
which winds along the perfume river.
00:15:45.000 --> 00:15:49.999
We travel down a dark lane where
there are no people, no cafes,
00:15:50.000 --> 00:15:54.999
no open doors on to living rooms and TVs.
This is the quietest,
00:15:55.000 --> 00:15:59.999
most peaceful street I’ve seen in Vietnam.
Koy tells me that this was a street
00:16:00.000 --> 00:16:04.999
where soldiers brought prisoners to shoot them.
No one wants to mingle with their ghosts.
00:16:05.000 --> 00:16:09.999
When you love someone,
00:16:10.000 --> 00:16:14.999
you love everything about them.
Even their footsteps.
00:16:15.000 --> 00:16:19.999
When you hate someone,
00:16:20.000 --> 00:16:24.999
you hate everything about them.
Even their ancestors.
00:16:25.000 --> 00:16:33.000
[music]
00:16:35.000 --> 00:16:39.999
At a pagoda in the countryside, I
meet a one legged man on crutches.
00:16:40.000 --> 00:16:44.999
He has on the most formal military
attire like a soldier on parade.
00:16:45.000 --> 00:16:49.999
He tells me, he lost his leg in the
American war and asks where I come from.
00:16:50.000 --> 00:16:54.999
I want to go to America, he says and
as if I would understand completely,
00:16:55.000 --> 00:16:59.999
he adds, everyone is rich
and business is good there.
00:17:00.000 --> 00:17:04.999
We stand for a moment face-to-face
00:17:05.000 --> 00:17:09.999
surveying each other. I finally
raise my hands together
00:17:10.000 --> 00:17:14.999
as if in prayer. Uncle, I’m sorry.
00:17:15.000 --> 00:17:19.999
He looks at me uncomfortably and shrugs.
Come Sao, come Sao,
00:17:20.000 --> 00:17:24.999
it doesn’t matter, he says. Waving his
hand like we are talking about a mistake
00:17:25.000 --> 00:17:29.999
I made years ago that he
has long since forgotten.
00:17:30.000 --> 00:17:34.999
A few days later, I tell Fam
00:17:35.000 --> 00:17:39.999
who comes from a long line of revolutionaries
about my encounter with the veteran.
00:17:40.000 --> 00:17:44.999
But Fam hardly listens. He once told me
00:17:45.000 --> 00:17:49.999
that war is like a volcano. You can’t control
it. So you do what you can to save yourself.
00:17:50.000 --> 00:17:54.999
Don’t feel too bad, he tells me now.
00:17:55.000 --> 00:17:59.999
That man probably killed
some American soldiers too.
00:18:00.000 --> 00:18:08.000
[sil.]
00:18:25.000 --> 00:18:29.999
Sick and dizzy for days,
00:18:30.000 --> 00:18:34.999
I see almost nothing more of Whay(ph.)
than what’s outside my window.
00:18:35.000 --> 00:18:39.999
Dana brings me a daily bowl of noodle soup given to
her by the large curious group of cooks downstairs.
00:18:40.000 --> 00:18:44.999
Without (inaudible)
00:18:45.000 --> 00:18:49.999
I may speak English. She’s come
to know them all quite well.
00:18:50.000 --> 00:18:54.999
I feel trapped. Right now, I
wish this sweltering hotel room
00:18:55.000 --> 00:18:59.999
were somewhere else. Home.
Unable to film a (inaudible).
00:19:00.000 --> 00:19:04.999
Lynne can stand for an hour
finding the perfect frame
00:19:05.000 --> 00:19:09.999
for her shot. It’s as if she
can understand Vietnam better
00:19:10.000 --> 00:19:14.999
when she looks at it through the lens
of her camera. I hate the camera.
00:19:15.000 --> 00:19:19.999
The world feels too wide for the lens and
if I try to frame it, I only cut it out.
00:19:20.000 --> 00:19:28.000
[sil.]
00:19:30.000 --> 00:19:34.999
Lu strikes up a conversation with us
00:19:35.000 --> 00:19:39.999
as we walk one evening along a quiet tree lined street
in Dena(ph.). He wants to practice his English.
00:19:40.000 --> 00:19:44.999
We invite Lu to dinner.
00:19:45.000 --> 00:19:49.999
It’s his first time in a restaurant. So he’s
bewildered by the menu and offended by the prices.
00:19:50.000 --> 00:19:54.999
He tells us about an American doctor who came
to demand the final remains of a friend,
00:19:55.000 --> 00:19:59.999
a soldier lost in the war.
Lu’s older brother
00:20:00.000 --> 00:20:04.999
sold the doctor some human bones for $6.
00:20:05.000 --> 00:20:13.000
[sil.]
00:21:05.000 --> 00:21:09.999
I’m here for such a short time. A bone
collector who knows nothing about anatomy.
00:21:10.000 --> 00:21:18.000
[non-English narration]
00:21:30.000 --> 00:21:38.000
[sil.]
00:22:05.000 --> 00:22:09.999
Back in Hanoi, we show my friend Wha,
00:22:10.000 --> 00:22:14.999
the photographs we just picked up from the
one hour developer. She shifts through
00:22:15.000 --> 00:22:19.999
all the famous sites of Vietnam and then
stops suddenly at a picture Lynne took.
00:22:20.000 --> 00:22:24.999
Where did your sister, take this picture?
00:22:25.000 --> 00:22:29.999
That’s my grandmother. I’ve never introduced
you to her. She’s not a very nice person.
00:22:30.000 --> 00:22:34.999
Always complaining.
00:22:35.000 --> 00:22:39.999
Once the photo lost its
anonymity, it lost its meaning.
00:22:40.000 --> 00:22:44.999
It wasn’t the long suffering face of Vietnam anymore.
The trophy face that tourists love to capture.
00:22:45.000 --> 00:22:49.999
It was just Wha’s crappy grandmother.
00:22:50.000 --> 00:22:58.000
[non-English narration]
00:23:00.000 --> 00:23:04.999
When I first got here in winter,
00:23:05.000 --> 00:23:09.999
every proper coffee table had a bowl of
Mandarin oranges on it. I thought people
00:23:10.000 --> 00:23:14.999
must really like mandarin oranges in Vietnam.
But no, that was mandarin orange season.
00:23:15.000 --> 00:23:19.999
So that’s what you do. Eat
mandarin oranges. Since then,
00:23:20.000 --> 00:23:24.999
we’ve been through sugarcane,
apricots, mangos and watermelon.
00:23:25.000 --> 00:23:29.999
During each period, I reach a point where I
never want to see that fruit again and then
00:23:30.000 --> 00:23:34.999
miraculously, it disappears. The same woman
00:23:35.000 --> 00:23:39.999
who roamed my neighborhood with her two baskets of
mangos balanced on a bamboo pole across her shoulders,
00:23:40.000 --> 00:23:44.999
reappears, hawking pineapples.
00:23:45.000 --> 00:23:53.000
[music]
00:23:55.000 --> 00:23:59.999
It’s June now, the beginning
of the rainy season
00:24:00.000 --> 00:24:04.999
in the end thank God of lychee season.
00:24:05.000 --> 00:24:09.999
Lychee season is very short as everyone I know has
explained to me and so lychees are a delicacy.
00:24:10.000 --> 00:24:14.999
Someone gives you a kilo of lychees and
then you give them a kilo of lychees
00:24:15.000 --> 00:24:19.999
and together, you must eat eight million of
them. I’ve never particularly liked this fruit.
00:24:20.000 --> 00:24:24.999
But it’s impossible for me to tell someone,
I’ve had enough. You’ve got to deal
00:24:25.000 --> 00:24:29.999
with the spirit of the thing. Relish
every juicy bite. I tried to eat
00:24:30.000 --> 00:24:34.999
as slowly as possible and make good use
of one popular Vietnamese eating habit.
00:24:35.000 --> 00:24:39.999
Preparing a morsel of food and
then giving it to someone else.
00:24:40.000 --> 00:24:44.999
I peel the lychee, then hand it to a neighbor
to eat, praying she won’t do the same for me.
00:24:45.000 --> 00:24:53.000
[sil.]
00:25:40.000 --> 00:25:44.999
Fam drove me home on his
motorbike after the symphony.
00:25:45.000 --> 00:25:49.999
A storm had rolled into Hanoi while we were sitting
in the opera house. I leaned into his back
00:25:50.000 --> 00:25:54.999
bracing myself from the wind. The rain,
illuminated by the light of our Honda
00:25:55.000 --> 00:25:59.999
looked like a million shards of glass.
Above us, there was a loud blast
00:26:00.000 --> 00:26:05.000
in the sky.
00:26:30.000 --> 00:26:34.999
[sil.]
00:26:35.000 --> 00:26:39.999
I wonder if he told me, because he
knows I want to know these things
00:26:40.000 --> 00:26:44.999
or because every time he hears
thunder, he remembers the bombs.
00:26:45.000 --> 00:26:53.000
[sil.]
00:27:20.000 --> 00:27:24.999
Lynne and I are sitting in Wha’s living room.
We have the TV off so none of her neighbors
00:27:25.000 --> 00:27:29.999
are standing out on the sidewalk peeking in. In
this unfamiliar quiet, we begin to talk about
00:27:30.000 --> 00:27:34.999
the United States.
00:27:35.000 --> 00:27:39.999
I think, I don’t understand homelessness
Dana. But I don’t understand
00:27:40.000 --> 00:27:44.999
why
00:27:45.000 --> 00:27:49.999
your government spends so much money
trying to find bodies of soldiers
00:27:50.000 --> 00:27:54.999
that they know are dead. While so many other soldiers are still
alive, are sleeping on the streets right there in America.
00:27:55.000 --> 00:28:03.000
[sil.]
00:28:15.000 --> 00:28:19.999
I feel weary. Maybe it’s
almost time to go home.
00:28:20.000 --> 00:28:24.999
I can’t.
00:28:25.000 --> 00:28:29.999
I’m not ready to leave the children, I teach. The way they look
at the ceiling when they are trying to remember an English word
00:28:30.000 --> 00:28:34.999
or the way their eyes get there
when they finally do remember.
00:28:35.000 --> 00:28:39.999
I can’t leave Wha’s in
Viet, the wild child,
00:28:40.000 --> 00:28:44.999
the five year old with the
gravely voice of an older man.
00:28:45.000 --> 00:28:49.999
I haven’t learnt all the words
for rain or the words for art
00:28:50.000 --> 00:28:54.999
and I don’t know all the words to talk about love.
I still want to hear the firecrackers at Ted
00:28:55.000 --> 00:28:59.999
and taste the new rice during those brief
few weeks when it’s green and chewy.
00:29:00.000 --> 00:29:08.000
[sil.]
00:29:15.000 --> 00:29:19.999
OJ is a family friend
00:29:20.000 --> 00:29:24.999
and the only veteran, I knew as a child.
It seems strange to him
00:29:25.000 --> 00:29:29.999
that Dana has been living in Vietnam. Before I left, he told
me he liked to sit on the white sands of the China sea again,
00:29:30.000 --> 00:29:34.999
to hear the strange chirping
sounds of the birds in the jungle
00:29:35.000 --> 00:29:39.999
near placu(ph.). To look for
South Vietnamese nurse,
00:29:40.000 --> 00:29:44.999
he worked with Pointi(ph.). He doesn’t
even know if his friend is alive.
00:29:45.000 --> 00:29:49.999
He imagines she’s a (inaudible) by now. But there
is something that keeps OJ from coming back here.
00:29:50.000 --> 00:29:54.999
The same thing that keeps him from telling me
honors of his favorite San Francisco noodle shop
00:29:55.000 --> 00:29:59.999
that he was stationed just miles
away from the family farm.
00:30:00.000 --> 00:30:04.999
For him that old adage still holds.
He can’t get there from here.
00:30:05.000 --> 00:30:10.000
[music]
00:30:20.000 --> 00:30:24.999
Lynne left for San Francisco this
morning and Wha can see it in my face.
00:30:25.000 --> 00:30:29.999
She hands me an ear of boiled corn
she brought from a passing vendor
00:30:30.000 --> 00:30:34.999
and we quietly staring out at
the traffic on the street.
00:30:35.000 --> 00:30:39.999
She says. When you share someone’s sadness,
00:30:40.000 --> 00:30:45.000
you lessen it.
00:32:35.000 --> 00:32:43.000
[sil.]
Distributor: Icarus Films
Length: 33 minutes
Date: 1994
Genre: Expository
Language: English
Color/BW:
Closed Captioning: Available
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