food / travel

Mrs. Vu Of Hanoi, The Bridge Connecting Vietnam To Former East Germany

Hanoi, Vietnam
Hanoi, Vietnam
Gil Eilin Jung

HANOI - We are in Hanoi, sitting in Mrs. Vu’s kitchen. The table is weighed down with exotic delicacies, passion fruit, pineapple, slices of melon, litchis, dragon fruit, kumquats, grapefruit, heart-shaped pieces of watermelon and small, fat bananas. We’ve already made considerable inroads into the spread, as if we hadn’t eaten for days.

Mrs. Vu, whose given name is Viet Nam like the country where she was born in 1944, has a degree in chemistry and speaks fluent German with a Saxon accent. She is one of the Vietnamese school children to have been sent to the German Democratic Republic (East Germany) – to Moritzburg, near Dresden – in the 1950s to be educated in a fellow socialist country.

Even as children, the "Moritzburger" kids belonged to Vietnam’s elite. Today they are successful seniors almost all of whom have maintained business relations with German companies.

Mrs. Vu is a riveting talker. Since she retired, she has been working as a tourist guide – not in the field, holding up an umbrella so her group can follow her from temple to museum, but right here in her home, on her sofa or at the kitchen table. She is at once a skilled hostess and a font of knowledge about Vietnamese culture and German history.

Nothing against the Temple of Literature, the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum or Hanoi’s Old Quarter – it’s just that for many German tourists the highpoint of their visit to Hanoi is coming to see Mrs. Vu. The visit is included on tours organized by Cologne-based SKR with their Vietnamese partner Terraverde Travel.

"Encounters with local residents are a basic part of our Southeast Asia travel concept," says Olaf Melsbach, SKR’s CEO. All the firm’s German-speaking guides – alongside Mrs. Vu, some dozen mostly also academic colleagues from Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia – are hired to “build bridges between cultures.”

The operator includes these especially interesting local people and opportunities to experience daily life in the host country along with the usual tourist sights on its tour programs.

Mrs. Vu’s special attraction is that she was part of the exclusive "Moritzburg Circle" of some 350 children. Ho Chi Minh himself was behind the initiative to send the offspring of party members to be educated in East Germany. At 11 years of age, Mrs. Vu, whose mother was a doctor and father a civil servant, was the youngest of the lot.

Moritzburg's Castle - Photo: Christian Skubich

What was theoretically an educational program was in fact a way of sending the children out of harm’s way: this was 1956, and the Vietnam War had started the year before.

"Saying goodbye to my mother was the most difficult thing," Mrs. Vu recalls. For three years after that, her schoolmates, teachers, and the principal of her school in Vietnam who had also come to Germany were her replacement family, along with the German teachers and hosts. "The Germans were wonderful people, they were like parents to us, we looked up to them and were thankful because they gave us so much and we learned so much from them." The main thing though was: "We were safe in East Germany, and you don’t forget that feeling."

Mrs. Vu attended school in Dresden and lived in a home in Moritzburg: "Maxim Gorki Street, Number 4," she recalls. In Germany she saw snow for the first time, learned how to ski, and ate never-before-tasted things like cheese, herring, and liverwurst.

"At first I could barely get the food down," she says, but her German “parents” warned her: "You eat the food that’s on the table, or you stay at the table until you do!" The dainty little Vietnamese girl also learned German values like punctuality, hard work, dependability, and a sense of responsibility. "It was strict," she says, "but loving."

Agent orange and the Berlin Wall

Today Mrs. Vu lives in downtown Hanoi, 15 minutes from the "Lake of the Returned Sword" (Hoan Kiem). To get to her place, visitors must make their way through a labyrinth of narrow streets.

We walk past curious children who call out "Hello people!" past teens playing volleyball, older folks playing badminton. Time and again we pass ground floor living rooms, inside which we see parked alongside the wooden furniture a cherished motorbike – a sign of wealth in this prospering city of 6.5 million inhabitants.

Mrs. Vu’s house is tall and narrow. Loud, 70s-style wallpaper dominates the living room with its brown velour sofa and armchairs, large flat-screen TV and a wall unit that would have done an Easter German household proud back in the day. A cuckoo clock hangs in the kitchen.

Pouring green tea and instant coffee, Mrs. Vu in best German style encourages us to help ourselves to fruit: "Otherwise I’ll have to assume you don’t like it." Also on the table is a bowl of lotus seeds that look like olives but taste sweet. "They’re good for your health. A little bitter, but beneficial." The last sentence could also describe Mrs. Vu’s later flight from Vietnam.

She had returned home in 1959 after three years in East Germany, but headed back to Germany again in 1962 to train as a photo lab technician. The Vietnam War would continue to rage until 1975.

In 1965, Viet Nam Vu enrolled as a chemistry student at Martin Luther University in Halle, later transferring to the Academy of Sciences in East Berlin. When she returned definitively to Hanoi in the 1970s, she got a job at a state scientific research center. The war was reaching its end, and Mrs. Vu says she wanted "to contribute something in the fight against the Americans.”

"East Germany was heaven compared to the worst days I experienced here," she says with reference to events like the American 1972 “Christmas bombing” which resulted in huge numbers of casualties. Does she feel hatred towards the west, towards America? "No," she replies: you never forget what happened, but you can’t move forward if you’re always looking back.

In any case the worst of it was not grief or anger at those decades of suffering “but the after-effects of Agent Orange.” Agent Orange was a defoliant that the Americans used across great swaths of forestland in Vietnam. Hundreds of thousands of Vietnamese got sick as a result, and later consequences included children with birth defects, cancer, and immune system weaknesses. "Such effects continued into the third generation,” Mrs. Vu says shaking her head.

When the Berlin Wall came down in 1989, Viet Nam Vu was in East Berlin. She relates how she ran to the Brandenburg Gate but she wasn’t allowed to cross over to the western side because as a Vietnamese she needed a visa.

If she was saddened by the fall of East Germany, the re-unification of Germany made her happy "beyond all measure." She has passed her passion for Germany down to her daughter who after studying in Marburg is now working towards her Masters degree in Bonn.

All these years Mrs. Vu has carefully preserved her German school certificate dated May 5, 1959 that bears a quote from Nikolai Ostrovsky (1904-1936), the Soviet social-realist writer: "The most valuable thing a person possesses is their life.”

Last year she returned to Moritzburg to visit her old teacher. "It was wonderful," she says. "She’s in her mid-80s now but she remembered all of us by name."

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How Thailand's Lèse-Majesté Law Is Used To Stifle All Protest

Once meant to protect the royal family, the century-old law has become a tool for the military-led government in Bangkok to stamp out all dissent. A new report outlines the abuses.

Pro-Democracy protest at The Criminal Court in Bangkok, Thailand

Laura Valentina Cortés Sierra

"We need to reform the institution of the monarchy in Thailand. It is the root of the problem." Those words, from Thai student activist Juthatip Sirikan, are a clear expression of the growing youth-led movement that is challenging the legitimacy of the government and demanding deep political changes in the Southeast Asian nation. Yet those very same words could also send Sirikan to jail.

Thailand's Criminal Code 'Lèse-Majesté' Article 112 imposes jail terms for defaming, insulting, or threatening the monarchy, with sentences of three to 15 years. This law has been present in Thai politics since 1908, though applied sparingly, only when direct verbal or written attacks against members of the royal family.

But after the May 2014 military coup d'état, Thailand experienced the first wave of lèse-majesté arrests, prosecutions, and detentions of at least 127 individuals arrested in a much wider interpretation of the law.

The recent report 'Second Wave: The Return of Lèse-Majesté in Thailand', documents how the Thai government has "used and abused Article 112 of the Criminal Code to target pro-democracy activists and protesters in relation to their online political expression and participation in peaceful pro-democracy demonstrations."

Criticism of any 'royal project'

The investigation shows 124 individuals, including at least eight minors, have been charged with lèse-majesté between November 2020 and August 2021. Nineteen of them served jail time. The new wave of charges is cited as a response to the rising pro-democracy protests across Thailand over the past year.

Juthatip Sirikan explains that the law is now being applied in such a broad way that people are not allowed to question government budgets and expenditure if they have any relationship with the royal family, which stifles criticism of the most basic government decision-making since there are an estimated 5,000 ongoing "royal" projects. "Article 112 of lèse-majesté could be the key (factor) in Thailand's political problems" the young activist argues.

In 2020 the Move Forward opposition party questioned royal spending paid by government departments, including nearly 3 billion baht (89,874,174 USD) from the Defense Ministry and Thai police for royal security, and 7 billion baht budgeted for royal development projects, as well as 38 planes and helicopters for the monarchy. Previously, on June 16, 2018, it was revealed that Thailand's Crown Property Bureau transferred its entire portfolio to the new King Maha Vajiralongkorn.

photo of graffiti of 112 crossed out on sidewalk

Protestors In Bangkok Call For Political Prisoner Release

Peerapon Boonyakiat/SOPA Images via ZUMA Wire

Freedom of speech at stake

"Article 112 shuts down all freedom of speech in this country", says Sirikan. "Even the political parties fear to touch the subject, so it blocks most things. This country cannot move anywhere if we still have this law."

The student activist herself was charged with lèse-majesté in September 2020, after simply citing a list of public documents that refer to royal family expenditure. Sirikan comes from a family that has faced the consequences of decades of political repression. Her grandfather, Tiang Sirikhan was a journalist and politician who openly protested against Thailand's involvement in World War II. He was accused of being a Communist and abducted in 1952. According to Sirikhan's family, he was killed by the state.

The new report was conducted by The International Federation for Human Rights (FIDH), Thai Lawyer for Human Rights (TLHR), and Internet Law Reform Dialogue (iLaw). It accuses Thai authorities of an increasingly broad interpretation of Article 112, to the point of "absurdity," including charges against people for criticizing the government's COVID-19 vaccine management, wearing crop tops, insulting the previous monarch, or quoting a United Nations statement about Article 112.

Juthatip Sirikan speaks in front of democracy monument.

Shift to social media

While in the past the Article was only used against people who spoke about the royals, it's now being used as an alibi for more general political repression — which has also spurred more open campaigning to abolish it. Sirikan recounts recent cases of police charging people for spreading paint near the picture of the king during a protest, or even just for having a picture of the king as phone wallpaper.

The more than a century-old law is now largely playing out online, where much of today's protest takes place in Thailand. Sirikan says people are willing to go further on social media to expose information such as how the king intervenes in politics and the monarchy's accumulation of wealth, information the mainstream media rarely reports on them.

Not surprisingly, however, social media is heavily monitored and the military is involved in Intelligence operations and cyber attacks against human rights defenders and critics of any kind. In October 2020, Twitter took down 926 accounts, linked to the army and the government, which promoted themselves and attacked political opposition, and this June, Google removed two Maps with pictures, names, and addresses, of more than 400 people who were accused of insulting the Thai monarchy. "They are trying to control the internet as well," Sirikan says. "They are trying to censor every content that they find a threat".

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