Saigon Slinging

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? We leave Europe, fly to Vietnam and then you hear nothing from us. Not even the dreaded inevitable “Good morning, Vietnam!” titled post. Just silence. Rather than dwell on it, can we just say we are sorry, promise not to give into the pull of the obvious title and move on now? Great!

Saigon (now Ho Chi Minh City, but I am going to stick with the old-time Saigon name since it has fewer characters to type and more character attached to it in my mind) was a significantly different experience for the pops and I. Whereas the surgeon amongst us has been here some 10-15 times, this was my first trip to ‘nam, and whereas he was going to spend the majority of his waking hours in the hospital helping those in need, I was going to keep the self-indulgent hedonistic theme of the adventure alive. Different stories to recount. Here we go.

The very first lesson Saigon taught me was to throw my American assumptions of road etiquette and pedestrian safety out the window. Red lights do not mean drivers stop, green light walking signs do not mean it is safe to cross, one-way roads do not mean you do not have to look both ways when you cross and just because you are on the sidewalk does not mean you are safe from being run over. I have been to some cities with crazy automobile behavior (e.g., the swarming moto-boys of Sao Paulo and Rio, the 5 cars lined up across 3 lanes of Cairo and the all available concrete driving of Jerusalem), but nothing compares to here. If your head is not on a constant swivel, you might just end up as road kill. So you want to cross a street? Start walking, keep a constant pace and pray hard. Any deviation from these instructions is a recipe for being the hood ornament of a motor bike. They don’t want to hit you, but that doesn’t mean they wont!

[The gauntlet]

With this lesson firmly imprinted, I was ready for my touristy days in Saigon. Time to walk around, say “Hello” to the many incarnations of Uncle Ho, see the few buildings that have even the slightest bit of historical significance (unlike so much of Europe, Saigon is characterized by where it is going rather than where it has been), sweat through all of my clothes while eating deliciously spicy noodle soup, wander the parks and get lost in the endless corrals of the Ben Thanh Market.

[Uncle Ho]

[Notre Dame Cathedral which is one of the longest standing buildings in Saigon having been constructed in the 19th century]

[Uncle Ho overlooking the Saigon Central Post Office workers]

[The Independence Palace, where the South Vietnamese government was centered until the country was unified]

[The orange on the top is the sweat inducer]

[An open air gym equipped with ellipticals and spin bikes!]

[Ben Thanh – Where you can get anything that you want, except an Alice]

Even some of the pops’ do-goodery rubbed off on me while in Saigon. On the way to learn about the “American devils” and the “War of U.S. Aggression” at the Cu Chi tunnels, I was able to help deliver lunch to an underprivileged school in one of the city’s outer districts as part of our gracious host’s efforts to give back to the Vietnamese community. The kids were pretty spectacular, and no language barrier was going to keep me safe from losing game after game of rock-paper-scissors…

[They totally hustled me]

  
But the touristic star of the show for me was going to the Cu Chi tunnels. They are something to behold. This specific network of tunnels (there are tunnels all over Vietnam, but the ones in the Cu Chi province hold special relevance in the war due to the significant fighting that took place in this area) are composed of roughly 200 km of underground multi-leveled zig-zagging tunnels and were utilized by the Viet Cong in all aspects of the war. The tunnels provided the ability for escapes and ambushes, served as communication and supply routes and housed the soldiers, their food and their weapons. Everything about the tunnels (from their design to their construction and their camouflage) highlighted the ingenuity that came out of the dire circumstances of war. They were so impressive that my guide was even able to convince me to face my claustrophobia…well, almost…

[Not happening]

  
Better than the touristy touring of Saigon was the home town touch we received from our generous hosts Uncle Thanh and Aunt Anne. Everywhere we went, we had the best. We were want of nothing, and it would be impossible for me to say that Saigon is anything but a dream when being doted upon by them. However, if I were to take my time in Saigon out of the comfort of their hosting, my overall impression of the city would be this: It is a city exuding so much life that it simply drained me. Had I not gone to Cambodia in the middle of my stay, I may not have gotten out…oh, wait…you haven’t heard about Cambodia yet, have you? I guess you will have to wait till next time.

Wander forward,

Matt