Ho Chi Minh City

Heading out into HCMC to explore for the first time, we were a little wary. Lonely Planet has several pages devoted to explaining the scams, dangers, and annoyances that one encounters in Vietnam, principally in HCMC. We left our good cameras and sunglasses at the hostel, since the moto bandits in the city are apparently world-renowned. Plus, the traffic is asolutely crazy, so we didn’t want anything to break (besides our bones) if a moto driver confronted us at high speeds while we were trying to cross the street. Here’s one of only a few intersections where the motos line up at a stop light — most of the time, there are no traffic signals!:

Our first stop was the War Remnants Museum, formerly called “The House for Displaying War Crimes of American Imperialism and the Puppet Government.”

It’s the most popular attraction in HCMC, drawing hundreds of thousands of tourists a year. It’s a little disconcerting to hear the Vietnam War called the American War the first few times and to hear about the medals awarded for killing Americans (the “American Killer Hero Award), but it certainly provides a different perspective. The most impactful section for me was the gallery of war photographs taken primarily by western photographers. They document in graphic detail the atrocity that is war, focusing mostly on the “Northern Liberation Front” Army as the heroes and the Americans as perpetrators of heinous war crimes.

This site has a good sample of the photos we saw. Some of the images (and worse) of the victims of Agent Orange were so graphic, I couldn’t look for longer than it took to recognize what it was I was viewing.

Although I don’t want to make this into a political statement, there was one comment in the guest book that stood out: “Great museum! You should use this as the blueprint for the one that gets built in Baghdad.” In terms of the horrors committed by both sides in an armed conflict, there are clear parallels between Vietnam and Iraq — or indeed, any war. I’ll leave it to you to decide if there are or are not others. SJP and I had some good debates about it.

That night, we had a good dinner while we watched the squid carts go by:

The next day, we took a day trip to the Cu Chi Tunnels, a 75-mile long network of underground passageways 40 km from Saigon and extremely close to an American Air Force Base, in which the Viet Cong could hide and from which they could attack “secure” American positions.

Before we got there, though, we stopped by the main temple of the Cao Dai religion. We drove about 2 hours out of our way to get there, stayed for an hour to witness a mass that was kind of interesting (mostly it just involved people chanting), and left. The religion was officially established in 1926, and the temple, after having been destroyed during the “American War” was rebuilt in the 70′s/80′s. I don’t mean to be offensive, but this is my cynical take on the religion: “I know! Let’s combine Confucianism and Taoism, which are different but perhaps not incompatible, with Hinduism and Buddhism, the latter being a reaction to the former, bake at 350 for 30 minutes, frost with Catholicism, and sprinkle on Victor Hugo as a patron saint for good measure!” You can imagine that neither Simon nor I was terribly impressed. Here’s a picture of the temple anyway:

OK, so then we got to Cu Chi. First stop was a documentary of the NLF fighters getting awards for blowing up American tanks and setting up booby traps. Then our guide showed us a fox hole, and hopped in. It was smaller in width than my hips. That little lump in front is a disguised airhole:

Then we got a demonstration of all the different types of booby traps that were used. Here’s our guide showing us a sort of trap door on steroids:

Next we got an opportunity to fire guns for about $1.60 per bullet. We both chose an M16.

Here’s Simon missing the target, because his right eye can’t focus and it’s impossible to target using your left eye when you’re a righty:

Here’s me missiong the target, with no good excuse (though I might be more disturbed if I turned out to be a good shot…):

By the way, these guns are LOUD. The ear muffs they gave us were worthless, especially with the guy shooting a machine gun 10 ft away. Oh well, the permanent hearing loss was worth it…

After the target shooting raised our testosterone levels, we headed into the tunnels themselves. The first 20m section is enlarged for tourists, the second 20m is slighty smaller, and the final 30m is original VC size. Simon bowed out after the first 20m, while I stuck it out through the whole thing. There was only one spot where I had to get on toes and elbows, while the 3 girls that also came appeared to be able to do the squat-and-shuffle throughout. It was a bit claustrophibic, but mostly it was very hot. More than 100m, and I’d be cooked. Especially if I’d been carrying guns and supplies.

Here’s a photo from inside the actual-size part of the tunnel:

Here’s me emerging from the end of the section:

All in all, the tunnels and surrounding environs were quite impressive. The foxholes, the booby traps, the smokeless kitchens, etc., helped make the things that our troops faced really come to life. Politics aside, I can’t even begin to imagine what it was really like to be there. It’s especially weird to hear the Cu Chi positions and offenses/defenses spoken of with such reverence.

When our guide asked us where we’re from, we said, “America.” (Most people recognize “America” faster than “United States” or “USA,” so apologies to Canada and Central and South America for the shorthand.) Our guide immediately responded by saying, “Sorry,” which was funny, then saying that he hoped that all this was in the past and that we would continue to be friends in the future. We assured him that we agreed.

Together, the Cu Chi Tunnels and the War Remanants Museum were very powerful sights, especially having come from the Killing Fields of Cambodia. I think the Vietnamese miss a real opportunity to make a strong statement about both the Vietnam/American War and war in general by being so one-sided about the conflict, however. They walk the Party line too strongly, and miss the balance that’s required to create a real dialogue/debate.

Anyway.

After returning to HCMC, we got in touch with one of Simon’s colleague’s father’s and had dinner with him. SJP’s colleague, Anne, with whom he worked at one of his more fun projects, said that we should meet up with her father, who would be visiting Vietnam while we were there. He took us to a traditional Vietnamese restaurant (as indicated by the almost complete lack of westerners anywhere), where we had a dinner that definitely ranks in our top 2 for the trip.

Anne’s dad was awesome. Very funny, enthusiastic, and generally fun to talk to. (He told us that Anne gets mad at him for changing subjects so quickly, but he said that now that he’s retired, his goal is not to be focused. We think that’s a good thing.) He’s an MD, and is in Vietnam right now volunteering, offering his expertise in autism, as well as in telling hapless young Americans what to eat and visit.

Our dinner consisted of 6 courses and drinks, all for less than $15. He told us how to roll our rice paper and ensured that we put enough fish sauce on everything. He forced us to not let any food go to waste, then plied us with delicious desserts, all while regaling us with stories of his life before and after Vietnam, including some very proud stories of his children, especially of the amazing-at-cooking, best-french-speaking, going-to-Wharton daugher, Anne.

It was a great dinner, especially when he scolded me for running across the street (“they’ll hit you!”), and for holding on to Simon’s arm to make sure he wouldn’t run and get hit.

After that, we headed to a nearby bar where we met up with a guy named Chris, who is a friend of a friend of mine from high school (Nikki, for anyone who might happen to be reading that knows anything about this era of my life). We met him at an Irish pub/expat hangout (“O’Briens”), along with 5 of his friends from the Mekong Delta area. We headed over to one of the more happening places in HCMC where all the pretty people go, Q Bar, which turned out not to be so happening, so Chris hit on the Smirnoff girl and we called it a night.

Next day, we headed off to Hoi An…

-mike

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