Getting real in Hanoi: A side of Vietnam that Bush won't see

HANOI, Vietnam — During his current four-day visit to Vietnam, President Bush is sure to be greeted by startlingly warm smiles like the ones that greeted me.

But he won't be sideswiped by a mattress tied to the back of a motorcycle, as I was.

There's no denying the privilege and power of a U.S. president's perspective on a place like Hanoi, where Bush will stay as part of his eight-day Asian trip. But I prefer to see Vietnam my way — no security detail, little protocol and no fame.

The night I arrived in Hanoi with no hotel reservation, I wandered the winding streets of the Old Quarter until a kid persuaded me to stay at "his" hotel, where a clean room with a balcony, air conditioning, cable TV and a hot shower cost $8 a night.

Bush is staying at the Sheraton, where a normal room can cost several hundred dollars.

Hanoi, of course, is the old Quagmire Central — the communist capital of the forces that tangled with the U.S., won and overran South Vietnam. Today, two-thirds of Vietnam's growing population is under the age of 35 and has little by way of personal memory of the "American War." Indeed, many young, urban Vietnamese are too busy learning English and dreaming of a richer future to think about such ancient animosities.

Products like Coca Cola and M&Ms abound, though McDonald's and other big chain stores are noticeably absent from the streets of Hanoi — for now. Meantime, everything from baguettes to kitschy prints of antique communist posters can be found in the streets of Hanoi.

Creative pricing

Non-presidential visitors may have to bargain hard and hold tight to their ticket stubs to keep Vietnam's unique blend of entrepreneurial zest and stodgy bureaucracy from eating away at the deals.

I decided to put the money I was saving on accommodation into a deluxe tour of Halong Bay, a UNESCO World Heritage site about a three-hour drive from Hanoi. I spent $22 on a 12-hour tour including transportation from my hotel, a boat trip and lunch.

I discovered, however, that the other foreigners had paid $15 or $16 for the same trip, and the Vietnamese paid $6.25. In fact, how much a person paid for their Halong Bay ticket is a favorite topic of conversation in the backpacker set. My group's tour guide said that in Vietnam everyone pays a different price for everything.

Bush will be in Vietnam for the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation summit, where one topic will be the communist country's imminent accession to the World Trade Organization. Bush may not find out about everyone paying a different price for everything here. If he does, he may see it as a praiseworthy lack of price controls.

It irritated me — until I looked around.

Halong Bay's scenery is, after all, stunning. A boat took us around the thousands of limestone hills that jut up from the bay. The guide told me that the Vietnamese saw animals and objects in the limestone shapes: two fighting cocks, for instance, and incense at an altar.

My boat tour made its way to a cave, where an admissions guard punched the tickets we had used to get on the boat. I thought the ticket's purpose had been served, so I had already lost mine.

There's no way I could have come this far without a ticket, and he knows that, I told the tour guide, who let me go in through the exit so that I wouldn't have to pay an extra $2.

"That guy just cares about money," I told our guide, as we walked away from the guard.

"Actually, I think he doesn't even care about money. He just cares about tickets," the guide said.

I might ordinarily disregard a comment like that. But in Vietnam, I got the feeling some guys might really care more about tickets than money. When not haggling over prices, even a short-term tourist can sense an undercurrent of communist sensibilities.

Personal history

Many APEC meeting attendees are more interested in Vietnam's inexpensive and able work force than bureaucratic mindsets, anyway. For them, the Hanoi that bustled just a week before will be a city of heavy security, including barricades, sirens and water cannons to ensure nothing goes wrong at the biggest event Vietnam has ever hosted.

Like other leaders, Bush's path is cleared wherever he goes. In Hanoi, he won't get the chance to walk through hectic motorcycle-filled streets, like the one where the mattress whacked me from behind and I didn't even gasp because I had been in Hanoi for almost a week and expected as much.

Bill Clinton was the first U.S. leader to visit Vietnam since the war that ended in 1975. He drew enthusiastic crowds wherever he stopped, despite still painful wounds — both emotional and physical — of the millions of Vietnamese and Americans whose lives were affected by the war. A downtown silk shop still proudly displays photographs of Hillary Clinton browsing.

The Clinton visit aimed partly to encourage trade with Vietnam, and some might call the country's accession to the WTO a fruit of that visit. Bush's trip is also likely to make the history books, especially if the president can persuade the U.S. Congress to normalize trade relations with its one-time enemy.

My own visit to Hanoi will not make the history books. That's the price, and the privilege, of being an ordinary traveler.