Days 40 – 44: Vietnam

Parents! Friends! Parents’ friends! Anonymous readers (though I don’t think you exist)! Hello! I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, but I’d written nearly 40 single-spaced pages in total for my entries on Japan, China, and the all-too-few days at sea between my travels, so I needed a bit of a break. But I’m back! And I’ve got a little over two days to pound out my thoughts and experiences in Vietnam, so I better get going! (Editor’s Note: I only got through three days, sorry. Been busy).

Day 1 – Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon)

I woke up around 8:00 am. To my dismay, I was still exhausted from Japan and China. I needed more time to recover. I was also running low on laundry, as we had not gotten it done since just before we reached Japan. I was thankful, though, for a wonderful suggestion from Leah, a family friend who sailed on the Fall 2008 SAS voyage. She suggested that, as a guy, I ought to bring a healthy supply of wife beaters since there are times when laundry gets real sparse. Now I did not own any before the voyage, so I had to buy some. And I’m glad I did, because they are pretty much all I wore in Vietnam, where it was miserably hot and humid.

Anyway, Nick and I began our day with an SAS trip to see a water puppet performance. Water puppets are an ancient Vietnamese theatrical performance which feature, you guessed it, puppets in water. The puppets are controlled by performers behind a screen who move the puppets with a long, underwater rod. It must require an immense amount of strength. The performance consists of a bunch of short vignettes involving animal puppets and people puppets. A cool aspect of this particular performance was that it was staged outside, as was the case during traditional performances. The only letdown was that it did not feature live musicians, which, I’m told, dramatically improve the experience. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the show.

Once the show concluded, Nick and I decided to stay in the city rather than return to the ship. We were joined by Greg, who also came to the water puppet performance. We first set out in search of food, as we were all starving. Knowing Vietnam was famous for its coffee, Greg suggested we try a place called Highlands Coffee. I countered by saying I’d prefer to eat at a place whose name I did not understand.

We ended up finding a street with a bunch of restaurants, and decided to eat at the place with the most people. The place served ban hue, which is a noodle soup in a savory beef broth. We had a choice of two meats, and I chose pork slices and beef pie, which looked like Vietnam’s version of salami. The beef pie was actually quite good; it was tender and peppery. I also got passion fruit juice, which was incredibly sweet and yummy. Unfortunately, they served it to me with ice, and Vietnam’s tap water is not safe for our consumption. So I had to drink the juice very quickly. All told, the meal cost about $1.50. I can’t decide if I was happier by the food or the price.

Near the restaurant was a donut shop, so we hit that up for desert. I was hoping for a novel donut experience, similar to the one I had in Japan. Unfortunately, these donuts tasted pretty similar to normal, American donuts. The owner told us that he used to work at Dunkin Donuts, and even studied at what he called “Dunkin Donuts University in Boston.” I’m not exactly sure what that means. Either way, it explains why these donuts were so similar to American donuts. But not that I’m complaining, they were tasty and cheap. Hard to go wrong with fried bread and extra sugar.

After lunch, we parted ways with Greg. He wanted to go to the Vietnam War Remnants Museum, and we had made plans with Clara to do that on our third day. So instead, Nick and I visited the Reunification Palace. The Reunification Palace was a restored Palace which housed the South Vietnamese President during the Vietnam War. It is untouched since the end of the War. It was pretty cool to take a look around and see how the former leaders lived. It actually reminded me a lot of the White House. Although it’s tough to say if this memory is accurate or not since I haven’t visited the White House since fifth grade or so. The best part was probably checking out a room on the bottom floor which had a photographic timeline of the Palace’s history, from its construction in the 1890s through the present day. It was my first look at history from a Vietnamese perspective, and it was quite interesting to see how the United States was depicted (hint: negatively). Then we checked out the video room, which was showing a historical video, and it was also strongly anti-US. I realized that this was going to be a theme, at least at historical sites.

Once we’d seen the Reunification Palace, though, Nick and I both looked at each other and concluded we were completely and utterly spent. And it was only two in the afternoon. I suppose it was a combination of the lack of sleep and the heat. Either way, we both needed a nap. And we felt adventurous, so we decided to take a motorbike back. The roads in Vietnam are wild; they are filled with an ungodly number of motorbikes. And motorists only sort of follow the rules, frequently ignoring lanes, running red lights, and sometimes even driving on the wrong side of the road. As a pedestrian, you are told to just walk slowly and confidently, as the motorbikes and cars will avoid you.

Anyhow, Nick and I hitched a ride with a couple guys, one of whom claimed to be a US Navy Veteran. But he didn’t speak much English, so I didn’t really believe him. We settled on five dollars for the ride back, which seemed a bit high but not outrageous for two people (Nick and I were riding on separate bikes). The ride was a complete thrill. It was phenomenal. I decided I would have to ride many more motorbikes before I left Vietnam. And I did. Sorry Mom.

After a glorious nap, Nick and I went to dinner with our neighbors Blake, Alan, and Mark. Alan’s parents flew out to meet and him in Vietnam, and they generously offered to take us out to dinner. They were very nice people; I enjoyed their company very much. And I certainly didn’t mind the fact that they paid for my dinner. Gotta love parents.

After dinner, Nick and I headed to Apocalypse Now, a club we had heard was a lot of fun. None of the neighbors came out to join us, unfortunately, because they all had to wake up quite early for various SAS trips. On our way to the club, we saw a bunch of SAS kids hanging out and drinking beers about a block from the club. We met up with them, and learned that beer costs about 50 cents at markets but $5 in the club. So Nick and I each grabbed a couple beers and enjoyed them with fellow SASers before going to the club.

While we were hanging out in the street, we were joined by some local kids who couldn’t have been older than 12. They all spoke English pretty well and were gregarious and funny, but I couldn’t help but wonder about their motives. It was nearly 11 pm, what were they doing unsupervised? About 10 minutes later a policeman lazily approached our group, and the kids instantly ran away. I was disconcerted by the policeman’s presence, but he did not seem to mind what we were up to. Either way, I left for the club.

Apocalypse Now was fantastic. It had everything one wants in a club. There was a dancing area with a DJ and great music. There was a bar, and it was far enough from the DJ that it was not too loud to talk. And it had a third room with food, also not too loud. Almost immediately upon entering, my buddy Jake, who you remember from my Hawaii moped adventures, bought me a shot of tequila. Once we each downed one of those, Jake excitedly yelled “let’s dance with some Vietnamese girls!” I didn’t know how that would work out, but I followed his lead. On the dance floor, he saw a bunch of girls at a nearby table wearing red shirts. He yelled to me “red shirts!” and confidently walked up and grabbed two by the hand. Then he passed me one to me. It was hysterical, and also awesome. Because the girls totally dug it. I danced with this girl for like an hour, it was a blast.

After my new Vietnamese friend left, I ran into Allyson in the bar area. She seemed really excited to see me. I told her we’d have to dance later. But when later arrived, she only wanted danced with me for like a minute before pulling away. It was curious. But I was having such a blast dancing that I didn’t really care.

Shortly before I left, two Australians at the club got into a fight. I didn’t see it, but apparently a bottle was thrown. I’m not quite sure why I’m mentioning this, but it is a bullet point in my notebook, so I have to. Without order from my trusty notebook, this blog would be chaos.

Once we decided to leave, Nick and I grabbed a cab back with a few other SASers. Although the driver said he knew how to get back, he must have been lying because he pulled over to ask a fellow cabbie. I found it really odd that he left his keys in the car, and I had to fight the urge not to take off driving. To clarify, I never seriously entertained the idea, but I thought it was interesting that the thought popped into my head. When we got back to the ship the cabbie tried to overcharge us, asking for more money after we paid what the price on the meter. I was making no progress repeatedly telling him “I paid what it says,” so I just got out, got back on the ship, and went to bed.

Day 2 – Cao Dai Temple and Cu Chi Tunnels

I woke up tired because I’d had trouble sleeping. My ears were ringing from my time on the dance floor. Well, so long that particular frequency. I’ll never hear you again.

Today Nick and I were taking an all-day SAS trip to the Cao Dai Temple and the Cu Chi Tunnels. Fortunately for the road-weary, the ride there was about three hours. So I had plenty of time to catch up on sleep. We also got to see a more rural area of Vietnam, which was very cool to see. Huts and dirt roads were carved into a dense, tropical forest. Few buildings were higher than one story. As Nick adeptly described the area, it was “old school.” I wish we’d had an opportunity to spend more time in rural Vietnam.

After a delicious lunch, we visited the Cao Die Temple. It was a crazy building. Rich colors were painted everywhere. There were tall, beautiful pillars throughout the temple, and an enormous shrine in the front of the building. There was this signature eye design all over the place. Though my description does not adequately describe the place, I took pictures-a-plenty, and I’ll have ‘em on the net soon.

On the ride to the Cu Chi tunnels, the guide gave us more insight on the religion and temple. The Temple is located on a 20-acre property in a city called Tay Ninh, and 90% of the residents practice. Construction began in 1933, and was not completed until 1955. When the Communists took over South Vietnam, they tried to abolish the Temple because Communism denounces religion. But the people of Tay Ninh refusted to give over the Temple, so the Communists eventually relented. The main principle of the religion is that no matter your specific religion (Christianity, Buddhism, Taoism, etc.), there is only one God and one sky. And God loves everyone equally (this is what the eye symbol represents). So you should simply do whatever you think in your heart is good. The principles of the religion seem nice, but it appears to have been commercialized in recent years. Elvis Presley is considered a Saint.

Next we explored the Cu Chi Tunnels, which was one of the highlights of Vietnam for me. The tunnels were dug during the War, and done so entirely by hand. Guerrilla workers went out at night in teams of four disguised in stolen American camouflage. They would dress normally during the day, which made it impossible to distinguish guerillas from normal Vietnamese citizens. However, according to our tour guide, trying to make the distinction is near impossible because there were very few citizens uninvolved in the war effort.

Tunnels were equipped with a dining room, kitchen (though smoke was funneled to come out of the ground 70 to 100 meters from the original source), bathroom, sleeping room, a fighting trench at ground level located near the tunnel, and bobby traps. For air, oxygen tubes were built with bamboo. I really marveled at the ingenuity it took to successfully build the tunnel system.

The tunnels were so successful in confounding the US Army for two reasons. The first is the simple fact that all the entrances were hidden. Those outside were well camouflaged with soil and leaves, and many were located inside houses, including toilets. Secondly, no maps of the tunnels were ever created. Instead, teams knew their area by heart, but only their area. So if any individual was captured, he could only divulge information about a small portion of the tunnel system.

The last thing I learned from my guide, and this is unrelated to the tunnel system but a sad fact from the War, is that most trees in Vietnam are either Tapioca or Eucalyptus and are less than 30 years old. Vietnam has been reunified for 35 years, and for the first five years after the War ended nothing could grow because of the soil damage caused by Agent Orange. Now, only Tapioca and Eucalyptus trees can grow in the damaged soil.

Now that I’ve gone over the history I’ve learned, allow me to discuss my reactions. More than anything else, the Cu Chi Tunnel visit illustrated how the Vietnamese clearly won the war through sheer willpower and determination. For starters, the tunnels were incredibly small. I crawled through a tunnel which had been expanded to twice the original size. While it was not uncomfortable, it was a small. I had to crawl on my hands and knees. I could not even get into originally-sized tunnels. The fact that the Vietcong spent hours in these miniscule passageways is simply mind-blowing.

The citizenry also worked themselves silly. During the day, they had to farm to feed themselves and the soldiers. And at night, they built the tunnels. In addition, they harvested scrap metal from bombshells and collected undetonated grenades to make booby traps. The Vietnamese did not have money or technology, but they had millions and millions of motivated people with an unrelenting work ethic.

Like my experience at the Imperial Palace, it was interesting to visit a historical site with such a strong anti-US bias. We certainly deserve it in the case of the Vietnam War, but it is still discomforting to see the terror my country inflicted upon a seemingly very innocent population. But one thing the guides frequently mentioned was how involved nearly every citizen was in the war effort. Not that I approve of the tactics used by the US Army in any way, shape, or form, but it sheds some light as to why Vietnam was such a brutal war with so many civilian targets and causalities.

The final thing I have to mention from our visit was a hysterical moment with one of the site’s employees. He said hi to Nick, and then told him that he was very handsome. He then asked “how many girlfriends do you have?” Nick laughed and said “none now.” “You’re pretty handsome yourself,” I then remarked. “Yeah,” Nick added. “How many girlfriends do you have?” The one-word reply offered by the employee was perfect. I don’t think he could have picked a funnier word. “Uncountable.”

The ride back from the Cu Chi tunnels to the ship was a little over two hours. Though I tried to listen to our tour guide, who was telling her fascinating life story, I dozed off for the majority of the ride. When we did make it back to the ship, Nick and I relaxed for a while before heading out to dinner. We went to a restaurant we had been recommended called Lemongrass, which is near the famous Rex Hotel. The Rex is famous because it was where foreign journalists stayed while covering the Vietnam War. Anyhow, dinner was quite tasty. It was clearly an upscale restaurant, but two appetizers, two main courses, and four beers cost Nick and I around $13 each.

After our delicious dinner, Nick and I moseyed on over to the City Square outside the Rex. It was a really nice area just to hang out and look at the city. We were joined on a bench by a local man and his son, and I decided to try to converse with the child. Though he understood me saying hello, that was as far as I got. Tonal languages are rough. I had a sheet of paper which supposedly told me how to speak common phrases, such as “what is your name” and the likes, but when I asked the kid his name he just gave me a blank stare.

His father, though, spoke a bit of English, so I talked with him for a while. The man told me that his daughter is currently studying at UC Berkeley. I was thoroughly impressed by this, as educational opportunities in Vietnam seemed to be very limited. Though the man was modest, he admitted that very few students from Vietnam are able to go to college in America, and that his daughter is quite smart.

After getting our fill of the City Square, Nick and I headed up to the top floor of the Rex, which has an absolutely gorgeous bar. The bar is located on the rooftop and overlooks the whole city. It also has live music, and the band was quite entertaining, playing a variety of songs and styles. The lone downside was that the price of drinks is high, so Nick and I had only one each.

At one point, the live music began to play some bumping salsa, and the urge for me to dance was irresistible. So I asked if any of the girls we were sitting with would join me, but none wanted to. So I went over to another table of SASers, and this group was more outgoing. I grabbed this one girl Leanna by the hand and started to dance. The rest of the group quickly followed. Our dancing gave the band more energy, as they quickened their pace. It was muy divertido.

Once we got our fill of the Rex, Nick and I headed to the bar street, which a guide book recommended for nightlife. We went to a place called Allez Boo, which had cheap drinks and a great view. Nick and I stayed on the top deck, which was quite relaxing and, like the Rex, had an impressive view. As we were leaving, we saw a group of SAS students and we hung out with them for a while before taking a cab back to the ship. They shared with us some disconcerting news: that an enormous earthquake had struck Chile and there were tsunami warnings around the world. Luckily, it turned out that nowhere in the US got hit very hard.

Day 3 – War Remnants Museum

Because we were so exhausted from all our travel, Nick and I decided to sleep in. But we also had another reason: we planned to stay up for the US/Canada Gold Medal Ice Hockey game. And it started at 3:15 am. So we slept in until around 11:00, and started our day with lunch at a local restaurant. We finished before 1:00, so, despite the generally hectic traffic, we could not find a motorbike or cab. They were all on lunch. We found a couple guys who drove cyclos, which are like a trishaw but have the sitting portion in the front. We asked to get a ride to War Remnants Museum, and we were told it would cost only 15,000 dong, which is a steal. However, we reached the Museum and it was closed for lunch. So our drivers offered to first take us to a local Buddhist temple. I hesitated for a moment because I was unsure as to how much the extra ride would cost, but because the original ride was so cheap I decided to ignore the cautious line of thought.

The Buddhist temple was very pretty, though it was odd how accepting they were of tourists and photos. Though Nick and I were hesitant to get photos of the shrines while people were praying, our drivers assured us that we were not being at all disrespectful by taking photographs.

After getting our fill at the temple, we took a ride back to the War Remnants Museum. To our dismay, the drivers informed us that their price was 150,000 dong, as opposed to 15,000, which was our understanding. Furthermore, since they gave us two rides, they wanted 300,000 dong. Though Nick and I were reluctant, the guys were old and had been carting us around in the hot sun for quite a while. And they did have a card which had prices listed, so Nick and I reluctantly paid. Though I was a bit pissed off at the time, I suppose that if the worst part of my travels thus far was being ripped off for about $10 USD, I’ve done pretty well.

But after getting over being ripped off, and hitting up an ATM to replenish our wallets, we spent at least three hours at the War Remnants Museum. The Museum had a top floor, which had a section recounting the war’s history and another section which showed the devastating effects Agent Orange had on the civilian population. On the first floor, the walls were filled with shocking, disturbing photos, as well as examples of weaponry. And outside were old US tanks, planes, and other weapons.

The visit was shocking but incredibly intriguing, almost like a car wreck. That’s a stupid analogy, but I think it works. Because I just could not look away. I honestly think I read every piece of text in the museum. It was just so interesting to examine the war from a Vietnamese perspective. It really made me feel great shame for the actions of my country. It’s interesting to think that back home, the Vietnam War is taught as a logistical mistake on the part of the United States. We simply should not have gone in. But we are not really taught about all the atrocities committed, or about the horrific effects Agent Orange had on both the land and on the people. It’s truly a shame. Not that I think the museum is an entirely correct, unbiased account of the war. But it was fascinating and eye-opening to learn about the war from the other side.

Once we had thoroughly explored museum, Nick and I went to hit up the markets. We went to the Ben Thanh Market, which is the famous tourist market. It is a huge building just packed wall-to-wall with shops. In fact, the building is so filled with shops that no aisle width exceeds three feet. It is truly a sight to see.

I had a pretty successful day at the market. I bought a knock-off Ralph Lauren polo for about $5, and I’m happy to say it fits and looks great. I bought a few necklaces, one of which is going to look gorgeous on my mother, a cute little tea set, and, finally, a real goofy hat. The hat is white, and has a bunch of $ signs in various colors. The $ sign that is front and center has sparkles. It fits terribly and looks ridiculous, which I suppose is why I love it so. And again, it was for less than $5.

When I was buying the hat, a gorgeous Vietnamese woman working at the stand across the way called out “you no handsome in that hat!” I replied that I was well aware, and that was precisely why I was buying it. She laughed and said I was stupid, again repeating “you no handsome in that hat.” Despite the fact that she was not being complimentary, I got the sense that she was flirting with me. So I asked for her name, which she said was Tran. I asked her what she was doing that evening, but she did not understand. I tried rephrasing multiple times, but, again, she did not understand. So I took out my list of bars, and circled Allez Boo, the place I had been the night before. I told Tran and her two friends to meet me and Nick there at 9:00 pm. Though the address I had written down had both the correct bar name and the correct street name, the street number was wrong. I tried very hard to make this clear, and I thought I got this point across. So we told them we’d see them soon, as we had three hours to clean up and grab dinner before meeting them at Allez Boo.

So we rested at the boat for a while, and I cleaned up my beard because Tran made fun of me for being hairy, pointing to my face. After a delicious dinner of duck in a clay pot over rice, Nick and I arrived at Allez Boo right on time. But after waiting around for over a half hour, it became clear that our Vietnamese dates had stood us up. So we ventured up to the third floor, as we had seen a pair of pretty girls, both of whom were white (and thus, we assumed, English-speaking) walk up their about fifteen minutes earlier.

When we got to the third floor, we saw them sitting alone and I asked if we could join them. They welcomed the company, so we sat down. It turned out they were two Irish girls on the first leg of an impressive vacation. They were leaving the following morning to Cambodia, and from Cambodia they were spending about three months in Australia and New Zealand. So, since they were leaving early the following morning, late-night festivities were ought of the question. But the girls were very pleasant conversation, and I thoroughly enjoyed hanging out with them until they took off, which they did around 11:00.

Once they left, Nick and I headed for Apocalypse Now, where there was a solid group of SASers. I danced and hung out until about 2:30, when the club closed. Then Nick and I returned to bar street with Zeke, a huge sports fan from Pittsburgh. He knew of a sports bar with cheap drinks, good food, and, most importantly, a television airing the Gold Medal game.

So we took a cab over, and I immediately got a cheeseburger and fries for about $2. Though I would normally want to get local cuisine, I couldn’t resist a burger and fries at that price. I was starving, and the meal tasted like heaven.

As we waited for the game to start, three Canadians strolled in to watch the game. We were glad to have the company, even if the were rooting for Canada. Opposing fans always make the viewing experience more interesting and enjoyable, especially if they are good sports. And these guys were. Before the game started we shook hands and said no hard feelings regardless of the outcome.

The Americans got off to a slow start. Midway through the second period, we were down 2-0. But we got one back before the period ending, tilting the momentum in our favor. In the third we were pressing hard for that tying goal, but it just wouldn’t come. But with under 40 seconds left in the game, Zach Parise tied the game on a rebound. We were going to OT.

It had been one hell of a game. The shots were even. The penalties were even. And the face-offs were 31 to 29, in favor of the US. I was proud of how our boys played, especially considering how young they are. Couple that with the venue and how outmatched they were, skill-wise, and you’ve got one heck of a performance.

Before the OT session started, one of the Canadians bought everyone a beer. We had spent a great night together, and it was a real nice gesture. Minutes before the OT session started, 15 or so more Canadians filed in from another sports bar. They were drunk and rowdy, though still real friendly toward us. Still, the intensity picked up in the bar, as our “USA! USA! USA!” chants were quickly drowned out by “CA-NA-DA! CA-NA-DA!”

Unfortunately, the OT session was a bit anticlimactic. I didn’t last very long, and Sydney Crosby, a notorious baby, scored the winner on a bit of a softie. But Team USA played terrifically, and it was hard to be down for too long.

Nick, Zeke, and I were all very gracious in defeat, offering our congratulations to the victors. I even joined them in singing “Oh, Canada,” which I had learned the summer I was 13 years old at the Tyler Place, a family resort my family has attended for many years. A cute Canadian girl named Rachel was there that year, and I learned it in hopes of attaining a kiss. It eventually panned out, which was cool. I suppose that isn’t the most interesting anecdote, but the Canadians were curious as to why I knew their anthem, and were highly amused by the story.

Thoroughly exhausted, Nick and I headed back to the ship. Though the Canadians wanted us to stay and to buy us drinks, we declined because we just had nothing left in the tank. It was light out when we went outside, and after our cab ride we immediately conked out.