Day 90: Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

Thursday, 6 April 2017
Overnight @ Nha Rong Port, Hồ Chí Minh City

Stats @ Ship’s Time 8:30p (ICT) … UTC 1:30p (6 April)
Temp: 78.6F (25.9C)
Position: 10.46.04N / 106.42.49E

Nobody gives way to anybody.  Everyone just angles, points, dives directly
toward his destination, pretending it is an all-or-nothing gamble.  …  All parties are
equally determined to get the right-of-way — insist on it.  They swerve away at the last
possible moment, giving scant inches to spare.  The victor goes forward, no time for a
victory grin, already engaging in another contest of wills.  Saigon traffic is Vietnamese
life, a continuous charade of posturing, bluffing, fast moves, tenacity and surrenders.
~ Andrew X Pham ~

Sài Gòn — this is how most of the 8-10 million people who call it home refer to the city that now carries the name of Hồ Chí Minh — the late North Vietnamese leader.  The name change happened soon after the takeover of South Vietnam in 1975.  I’m going to refer to it as Saigon as well.  It is the local way after all.

For Americans, a visit to Vietnam comes with mixed feelings.  Understandable considering our history here.  I had some trepidations as well, but they weren’t as strong as the feelings most experience.  I was only five years old when the Vietnam War — American War as it is known in this country —started, and had just graduated high school when it ended.  I knew of the war, of course.  I understood the devastation it was wreaking.  The horrors.  But living in Turkey at the time, its impact on me was not as strong as it is was for those living with the reality of the war on a day-to-day basis … in Vietnam or in the US.  We didn’t even have TV until 1974, so my exposure to the war was further limited to radio and written media … both diluted by the fact that I was in a country that was not involved directly in the war.

Any concerns about how we would be welcomed to the country had already been allayed by the warm hospitality we experienced in Hạ Long Bay earlier in the week.  So, I had no concerns left in that respect.  Today, my concerns were much more simplistic.  Would I be able to handle the decidedly increased heat and humidity?  What about the big-city-crowds and the horrendous traffic we were told to expect?  I survived.

But let me start at the beginning of the day.  Mui and I were both up early — around 5:30a.  It was still dark and we were at sea, with the twinkling lights of Vũng Tàu Province on our starboard.  The mouth of the Saigon River was in the distance.  Around 6:30a, pilot aboard, Insignia was ready to follow the meanderings of the river’s Long Tau Channel.  Someone said we’d be traveling 18 miles (29 km) upriver.  But the Encyclopedia Britannica puts Saigon 45 miles (72 km) from the mouth of the river.  In any event, it took us about three hours to make our way to Nha Rong Port — conveniently situated in the heart of the city … that’s the benefit of being on a smaller ship … we can get into ports ships with bigger drafts can’t get to.

At first there was nothing but islands on either side of the ship.  Heavily forested, with deep channels running off left and right, and rice paddies protected by dikes, the scenery was eerily reminiscent of the Vietnam War movies I had seen.  Everything was veiled by a combination of morning mist and smog.  Slowly, fishing boats appeared … then boats with red prows painted with great big eyes … cargo vessels, tankers and barges plying the waters followed.  I was surprised that the width and the depth of the Saigon River allowed for two-way traffic.  Making sharp turns, Insignia continued past villages, commercial ports, and high rises.  It sailed by a new bridge currently under construction, and went under Phú Mỹ Bridge.  Then — lightly veiled by the smog we’ve come to expect in this part of the world — high rise buildings started to dominate the distant scenery … signaling our arrival in modern day Saigon.

Our tour was one that had been organized by fellow-passengers Barry & Christine.  We met up with the group in the lobby on deck 4 at 9:45a … the ship was still on its way to its berth.  Thirty minutes later we were first off to read the “Welcome to Vietnam” banner on display at the bottom of the gangway.

A bright red bus — capacity 30 for our group of 14 — was awaiting us just outside the port gate.  Waiting to greet us were Anh, our guide, and Nghia — whom Anh introduced as the driver who would be keeping us safe as we navigated the chaos that is traffic in the city.

How true the quote at the top of this post proved to be.  There were busses, trucks and cars.  But their numbers were overpowered by the motorbikes that were streaming towards us from all sides — like a huge, angry mob.  No surprise really — with a 200% sales tax levied on cars and such, motorbikes are the preferred mode of travel in Vietnam.  Some carrying one, others carrying two, and yet others carrying families of four with one kid in front of the driver and the other sandwiched between the adults.  Special waist packs were in evidence when there was one adult and one child — especially a young child — on the bike … motorbike car seats if you will.  Some bikes were being used to transport goods — anything you can think of … from washing machines, to fruits and vegetables, to elaborate flower arrangements … and more.  It was quite a sight to behold … no doubt about it.

A mob … that’s the only word that even comes close to describing the
motorbikes waiting for the red light to change so they can surge ahead.

Anh first took us through China Town to visit the Thien Hau Temple, explaining that even without the typical pagoda structure, the official name is “Ba Thien Hau Pagoda” [Pagoda of the Lady Thien Hau].  First constructed around 1760, the temple is dedicated to Mazu, the Chinese goddess of the sea.  This, from what I understand, is the deified form of a girl who used her spiritual powers to save her family from harm during a typhoon.

To visit the temple first we had to cross the busy street.  No easy feat in Saigon.  We were told that it was best to stand next to a local on the downstream side of traffic and simply follow as he or she stepped off the curb and into the oncoming traffic, keeping a steady pace without any hesitations, thus allowing vehicles — especially motorbikes — to go around us.  Luckily, there were lights and white zebras on the road … not that everyone obeyed them.  And with Anh’s guidance we made it across safe and sound.

Inside we found ourselves in a partially covered courtyard, the center open to the sky.  Incense burned everywhere — some of them shaped like flat, circular mosquito coils that opened into cones … hung on ropes crisscrossing the courtyard overhead once they were lit.  High on the walls porcelain dioramas told stories that we did not have time to decipher.  At the end of the courtyard was the altar — a sign on the floor asked that the yellow line not be crossed, so we viewed it from a distance.

Back on the bus, we went for a ride through Cho Lon Market.  Anh explained that each street had stores that sell one specific type of product … plastic goods on one street, lanterns on another, clothes on still another, etc.  More competition for business … thus better for the people who shop here.

Our meandering drive, dodging motorbikes, next took us to the district where French-era buildings abound.  Here we again got out of the bus to walk around a bit.  Our first stop was in the square across the street from the Notre Dame Cathedral Basilica of Saigon.  Referred to on our itinerary as the Hundred Years Red Cathedral, the church was built by French colonists between 1863-1880, going through several iterations until the one still standing today.  The red brick façade made it obvious where the church got its nickname.  Anh said it was closed — I’m guessing because we arrived at noon — so we didn’t go inside.  Instead, crossing the street, we ran a small gauntlet of vendors and went inside the Saigon Central Post Office.  Influenced by Gothic, Renaissance, and French architecture, the building — whose design is erroneously credited to Eiffel — was constructed between 1886-1890.  Inside, I focused on the two painted maps high on the ceiling, while others went to the shops lining the narrow passages on either side of the foyer.

Another short bus ride from here and then another short walk to see the exterior of several more buildings, including the Opera House — aka the Municipal Theater of HCMC … an example of French Colonial architecture.  The Rex Hotel was next.  Originally an auto dealership built to showcase Citroën and other European cars, the building was converted to the Rex Complex beginning in 1959.  The first guests came to the hotel in 1961 while it was still under construction … 400 US soldiers, the first company-strength units to arrive in Saigon … billeted here until their tents were set up.  It became famous during the Vietnam [American] War as the location of the American military command’s daily briefings.  Its rooftop bar was where the military officials and war correspondents hung out.

The last building we saw here was the City Hall of Hồ Chí Minh City.  Also in French Colonial style, it was built between 1902-1908.  In the park in front of it “Uncle Ho” stood in bronze.  Installed in 2015 for his 125th birthday, the statue apparently replaced one of him sitting next to a young girl.  Too bad they saw fit to remove that statue.

Lunch time was now at hand.  So Anh took us to Phở 2000, a restaurant made famous when Bill and Chelsea had lunch here.  The place was crowded with tourists, and I couldn’t help but wish we were at a place frequented by the locals.  I ordered the phở gà — chicken noodle soup … found it quite bland, actually.  Not a fan of soups, Mui ordered sautéed beef with rice vermicelli noodles that looked more like fettuccine … he said it was quite good.  We shared an order of shrimp spring rolls … very good.  Mui of course had Vietnamese milk coffee — two of them.  And I washed down my meal with Tiger Beer.  All for the grand price of VND345,000 — USD $15.

By the time we finished our meal, we were the only ones left at the table.  Not because we were particularly slow, but because everyone else scarfed down their food so they would have time to go shopping at the Ben Thanh Market across the street.  We ventured inside for a few minutes, but it was too hot … and we quickly tired of dodging sales pitches for cheap ‘you fill in the blank’ items.

Once everyone was back on the bus, we began the 1½ -hour drive outside the city to visit the Củ Chi Tunnels.  A 75-mile (121 km) long network of underground tunnels, they were used by the Viet Cong to hide during combat.  The inter-connecting tunnels, part of a bigger network that underlies most of the country, also served as communication and supply routes, hospitals, food and weapons caches, and living quarters.  This particular network at Củ Chi was the Viet Cong’s base of operations for the Tết Offensive of 1968.  Several US campaigns to eliminate the tunnel system were all unsuccessful.  This was primarily because searching the tunnels — which were often booby trapped with explosives or poison-tipped punji stick pits — was extremely hazardous, with seeming dead ends faking out the searchers.  Often the size of the tunnel was underestimated, and while a portion was destroyed, the network continued in other directions.

The portion of the tunnels we visited at Ben Dinh have been preserved by the Vietnamese government.  A war memorial park of sorts, this section has tunnels that have been reconstructed and enlarged to accommodate the larger-sized western tourists … and I don’t just mean girth, but height as well.  We saw one of the original, well-camouflaged tunnel entrances and a park ranger — small in stature — demonstrated how quickly the Viet Cong could disappear into the tunnels.  Christine was the only one to to take up the challenge to try out the maneuver in person.

Continuing our walk through the jungle, we were shown the air holes built to look like termite mounds and told how the guerrillas would outsmart K-9 dogs by putting dirty clothes, cigarettes, and other items belonging to US soldiers to put the dogs off their scent.  At one exhibit, we were shown samples of the various types of punji stick traps the Viet Cong set to capture or kill US and South Vietnamese soldiers.  Wax mannequins were in some of the display areas, and there was a firing range where anyone could fire an M16 or an AK47 for a price.  There were no takers from our group.

Just as we were leaving the firing range, it started to rain.  So we scampered between the next few exhibits, hoping the rain would stop.  It didn’t.  Instead, it grew stronger and stronger.  The dirt path grew muddy and slippery, and ponds formed almost immediately.  While we would have preferred not to have had any rain, it gave us a tiny glimpse into what the American troops had to contend with … and worse during the monsoon season.

Since it was too wet to continue the tour without rain gear, Anh ran back to get some ponchos for those who needed them — Mui and I had our Froggtog ponchos so we were good to go.  Once everyone was properly kitted, we headed back to the bus since going inside the tunnels was now out of the question … not just because they were muddy and slippery, but also because we were behind schedule.

The return drive to Saigon was a bumpy one — mostly due to the speed at which our driver was going to try and get us to our last stop on time.  As it turns out, though Anh called ahead to the water puppet theater and asked them to delay 5-10 minutes, we made the 6:30p show with a few minutes to spare.

Water puppetry is an 11th century tradition that originated in the Red River Delta of northern Vietnam.  Lacquered wood puppets, attached to bamboo supports that were hidden under the water of flooded rice paddies, were used to entertain villagers.  Up to eight puppeteers — in our case only four — stand in waist-deep water behind the scenes to manipulate the puppets so that they look like they are moving on the water.  The conversations between the puppets were in Vietnamese, so I have no idea what the story line was, but we were told the skits tell rural stories that have their basis in Vietnamese folklore.  An interesting performance — especially as a glimpse into the country’s culture.

It was 8:00p by the time we returned to Insignia.  Oceania brought a folklore show aboard, so Mui went directly to the Insignia Lounge to get a front row seat.  Tired from the heat and humidity, and in desperate need of a refreshing shower, I begged off.  When he gets around to editing the video he shot, I’ll get to see what I missed tonight.

Early start tomorrow for our second day in Saigon …

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