Ho Chi Minh City: unorganised chaos.

Ho Chi Minh City is loud, dirty, chaotic, crazy and where crossing the road takes major concentration.

From the top of The Rex Hotel.

After around 28 hours of transit I arrived in Ho Chi Minh City (or Saigon as the locals prefer to call it). I left my hostel at 11:30am to walk to Laumiere metro station in Paris and I arrived safe in my new bed in HCMC at 10pm the following day. there’s not a lot to report from those transit days. I got hit on by an idiot at the hostel, I gave my coat to a beggar at the metro station, I ate a block I chocolate for lunch because I didn’t have enough euros for those exorbitant airport sandwich prices (it was milka though, so don’t worry), I ate airplane food, I watched 3 movies, I saw the fancy part of Doha airport (not the shed we had to wait in on the way over), I slept, I ate more airplane food, I watched another movie & the final 3 episodes of How I Met Your Mother to see what all the fuss was about, then I arrived in Bangkok. I took the shuttle across town to the budget airport & stayed there for a good chunk of my life waiting for my flight to HCMC. There was no wifi at the airport, so I had to read a book – shocking I know. Then after a very short flight I was issued my visa, got in a cab & was eating fresh fruit & drinking as much water as I could at the hostel. Transit would have to be the least glamorous part of travel. It is not fun, it’s often boring & if you’re an Australian, like me, it often takes days on end. However, I can’t help but marvel at modern travel, that I could be in France one day & Vietnam the next is sort of baffling when you think I just had to catch a big bit of flying metal to get there. Hmmm, maybe transit did give me just a little bit too much time to think.

HCMC

After the relative calm of Europe, the contrast between the two locations couldn’t be more extreme. The organised chaos of HCMC is like a slap in the face. Much like the humidity you feel every time you walk outside or into a room with no air-con. I want to know more about HCMC because I don’t really understand it. On the street something is happening everywhere you look. Neon signs, hawkers, men playing checkers, food stalls, rubbish, noise, motorcycles on the footpath you’re trying to walk on (that’s if you can fit in between the parked bikes) and Street stalls sell all types of food, motorbikes whizz past you and of course, there are the ever constant cyclo-drivers who can spot a tourist a mile off. It is so different from home. There is something going on every where you look. It would be remiss of me not top dedicate some time to discussing the traffic. Despite not having a car or motorbike of my own to travel on I constantly found myself caught in traffic. Bikes outnumber cars in every part of the city. In fact, there are about 2 million bikes in HCMC alone. Crossing the road is a nightmare; but I learned the secret. wait for breaks where there are no cars and buses and shuffle slowly and let the bikes go around you. This was petrifying every time, but it seemed to work. It is a stressful place, but I think that’s why I like it. It is so different from home. In Europe you fall in love with the beauty, art and culture, here, in Asia, I am fascinated. I don’t know where to look and I don’t know what is going to happen next, but I like it. I think I am addicted to culture shock.

Crossing the road.

There is a lot to see and do around the city. I visited the tragic War Remnants Museum. The place had talks, choppers and fighter jets parked out in its courtyard and inside the tragic realities of war. Particularly focussing on the victims of Agent Orange. I found the images particularly difficult to look at, but the museum itself was a very important part of the trip, because the war is a big part of what makes Vietnam the country it is. A guy in the hostel asked me what he should do one morning at breakfast, I told him the war museum was tough, but very interesting. I said it also provided me with a different perspective of the war as all that I know comes from American films and literature like the amazing collection of short stories “The Things They Carried”.  To have a Vietnamese perspective was different and powerful. He told me it’s his “holiday” and he “doesn’t like to do stuff like that”. I have seen a fair bit of tragic history on this trip, but as I told him, I think it would be remiss of me to come to a place and not understand its people and their past. In the case of Vietnam, victims of Agent Orange can be seen in the streets of the city all the time. This horror is their reality, even if they were born after the war ended. Needless to say, I think that guy is an idiot.

The War Remnants Museum.

There are beautiful old colonial buildings like the post office and the embassies and there is even a Cathedral modelled after Notre Dame. Out the front of this Cathedral we eclipsed the highest number of brides in one place count from Zagreb’s respectable 7 in one town square to an amazing 12 on all different sides of the closed cathedral. Like I said, there’s something every where you look. In other parts of the city I climbed up one of the fancy hotels that I had no right to be in to get a great view over the city and pay $11 for an orange juice for my trouble. I went browsing everywhere from the bustling Ben Thanh market to high-end designer wear department stores. Just walking down the street is an eye-opener. People crowd the streets, to eat and socialise. The parks are full of people who are playing a hybrid game of hacky-sack and badminton. The rubbish piles high. The smell changes from delicious food to rotting food in an instant. There are so many contrasts here.

inside Ben Thanh market.

The most exciting part Of HCMC for me was the fact that I have two new travel partners; my parents. They met me here and we are going to move through Cambodia to Bangkok together. On their first night we went out for delicious pho and I treated them to a night at the ‘A O’ show (which stands for the Ahh and Ohh show) at the old Opera House. The show was an acrobatic performance using traditional bamboo products like poles and baskets. I can’t really describe the amazing talent of these people in my blog, but I was impressed by their skills in everything from flexibility to slapstick comedy. It was a great show despite me not having enough money to but us tickets that had an unimpeded view of the stage, but oh well! The next day we visited the Reunification Palace, the former French governor’s house that was converted into the president’s very 70s style palace. After the North Vietnamese stormed through the gates and unified all of Vietnam, the palace was re-purposed and renamed.  There is beautiful art and furniture all throughout the palace, a party room, theatre, too many reception rooms, a wall covered in dead animals that were given to the president as ‘gifts’ and escape chopper on the roof and a bunker below that made me feel like I was in a cold war movie. Again, the information here used language that I as a westerner are unfamiliar with when discussing the Vietnam war. Like calling the South Vietnamese government a regime.

The Reunification Palace.

In Europe, I can blend into the background, but in Asia, I stand out like a sore thumb. I tower above many of the people and my features give me away as a visitor to the region. Therefore, I am fair game. HCMC is big and a lot of people couldn’t be bothered with me. But those that rely on the tourist trade were often in my face and hassling me to spend at their stall/shop or stand. It goes against what I set out to do this year, but I feel like I am saying no a lot. In Vietnam, and many other countries around South East Asia, people’s livelihoods are reliant on the tourist dollar. So that means, as a tourist, that the locals need your buisness to ensure that they are able to earn money. I understand this, but I often felt like the conversations I was having were going on repeat.

“Hello”

“Hello”

“Where are you from?”

“Australia”

“G’day mate! Oi Oi Oi!”

Cyclo drivers would then proceed to get a book out which would show you some people that they claimed to be Australian who had written them a glowing review. That’s not to say everyone was after my money. Some kind souls saw me looking at my map and offered to help out of the goodness of their heart. But I should also mention I got ripped off a couple of times too. Special mention goes to the coconut man who gave me his products without warning took a photo and then forced me to buy his coconuts at what I later learned was about 4 times the going rate. Well played, sir, well played. But I certainly did indulge is some of the tourist activities.  What would a trip to Asia be without a traditional massage? I thought I’d try one on one of my days here. The massage itself was great. 90 minutes for about $15. which of course, for me, is ridiculously cheap. Little did I know, I was getting a traditional Vietnamese massage which involved things like having the masseuse crawling on my back and lifting my over his head to crack my back. That would have been fine if he didn’t hold me over his head for what seemed like a really long time. we both just sat (well, I was kind of lying flat over his knees) silently. It was so awkward.

Ho Chi Minh posters are all around the city.

Close to HCMC is an easy day trip to the Cu Chi tunnels, the intricate complex where the so-called Viet Cong lived, fought and caught tunnel rats (ie Americans) during what I call the Vietnam War, but people around here call the American War. At the site you explore the tiny tunnel entrances that are dotted around the area. This was quite funny, I climbed into one, as I did I realised that the space was not made for my ample pear shape and although I could fit, it was a tight squeeze. I got in the tunnel, put on the lid, had a giggle and tried to emerge.  Of course, quite a large crowd had gathered to watch someone use the tunnel. As I pulled myself out I had to shimmy to fit out of the hole. There was an audible gasp as I am sure many of the people thought I would surely be trapped in the fox hole forever. Embarrassing is an understatement.  You can also see traps and learn about how the Viet Minh (or Viet Cong) lived and the amazing and intelligent methods they used to fight. There si a shooting range where you can fire an M-16 into a big wall made  out of hay, which I did not attempt. There is also a chance to crawl through the tunnel for about 100 metres. I did 20 of those metres because the space was simply too small for me to fit through. So a very interesting day trip, but not so good for my self-esteem.

The tunnel entrance.

I also had time to indulge in a couple of my favourite past times: cooking and eating. I went to a cooking class with a local chef who taught me how to make fresh spring rolls, stir fry and Vietnamese salad. He was lovely and angry in the way that chefs often are, but he was a good teacher. I have been to cooking classes before where you are given recipes filled with impossible steps and hard to find ingredients. Here, it was fast, fresh and simple, but most importantly, delicious.. I also ate at as many local places as I could. I had pho, bahn mi and noodles from small hole in the wall stalls filled with locals who like to stare. The food here is amazing!

Fresh spring rolls and dipping sauce. Made by me.

HCMC is an extreme experience. It is hard to catch everything that is going on around you. But of you are able to concentrate long enough you find an interesting historical place, filled with a wonderful atmosphere and great food.