I’m not sure how it
happened, but I have been in Vietnam
for a month. I guess the old adage must be true because I have been having so
much fun I didn’t even notice the days slipping by.
After Bali I flew
into Ho Chi Minh City, or Saigon,
late in the evening and was amused by the vast amount of neon I saw glowing
below me as the plane came in to land. HCMC is all about neon signage, and
traffic. I found a nice guest house with an adorable night clerk named Phong (he
found out I am a teacher so we had a bit of a ‘lets practice my English’ chat)
and then I headed out for a bite to eat and a beer. The backpacker strip in HCMC has
a really similar vibe to Phnom Penh,
but a bit seedier perhaps. Imagine lots of neon, lots of people trying to sell
you everything under the sun and cheap beers and street food.
Because I didn’t plan
on spending too much time in HCMC I signed up for a few day trips. First one
was to the Cu Chi Tunnels outside of the city, where you have the opportunity
to go through the underground tunnels used by the Viet Cong during the Vietnam
War (referred to as The American War over here). We were lucky enough to be
shown a hilarious documentary about the war, hilarious in its complete pro Vietnam and anti America bias. The doco spoke of
Vietnamese fighters being honored with the glory of a, ‘number
one American killing hero medal.’ The whole thing was surreal and you could
tell most of the westerners in the room were trying hard to keep their jaws
from hitting the floor... or from giggling.
The tour carried on
to show us a range of the booby traps employed by the Vietnamese, the armpit
pincher, the testicle impaler and the death spike to name a few. Not giggling
so much anymore. Then we were taken to the firing range where, for a price, you
could fire a weapon of your choice. Not being a gun enthusiast I declined, but
I did watch while a few others from the tour fired off rounds from an AK-47.
They couldn’t be sure if they hit anything... but they all had big smiles on
their faces when they finished.
Finally we were taken
down into the tunnels. The first tunnel that we went through was actually wider
than the ones used by the Viet Cong. Strangely enough they found it necessary
to widen them so we fat western tourists could fit through. I’m not one for
small spaces and I did not enjoy it. The next one was supposedly the original
size used during the war... I enjoyed it even less. I will say one thing; I
have a world of sympathy for the men, women and children who spent months,
perhaps even years, down these tunnels. I spent a grand total of about 5
minutes in one and I got cabin fever.
The tour was ok, but
the guide was a bit of a dud and his information really paled in comparison to
what I later heard from others who took the same tour with a different guide.
BUT, he was an expert on scooters. For instance, I learned that scooters come
in many colours; red, blue, green, white, pink,
black, green, blue and others. Also I learned that you must wear a helmet on
your scooter, and they too come in many colours; red, blue, green, white, pink,
black, green, blue and others. But most importantly I learned that some
scooters are cheap and some scooters are expensive and if you have a cheap quality scooter
you will have a cheap quality girlfriend, but if you have an expensive scooter
you will have an expensive girlfriend. Glad we cleared that up.
Next day I hopped on
a bus to do a tour of the Mekong Delta and whilst eavesdropping on their
conversation I made friends with a couple from Perth, Kate and Grant. They were discussing
the driving age in Vietnam
(because at times it seems like six year olds are cruising the streets on
scooters) and thanks to the Cu Chi tours extensive discussion of scooters I was
able to inform that the driving age was in fact 18, but 16 for any bike under
250cc. I also told them about the colours available incase they were unsure.
We spent the rest of
the day mocking things together, asking the guide stupid questions and making
up nonsense explanations for the things we did not understand. You can imagine
my delight at finding two people as awesome/idiotic as myself.
The tour took us past
a place called Dragon Island (didn’t see any dragons) and on to a place
called Unicorn Island (you guessed it... no Unicorns
either). On Unicorn
Island we tasted tea and
honey, and then we were offered some wine from a large jar with pickled cobras
in it. Kate and Grant tried it, but I opted out. They tried to peer pressure
me, but I stayed strong and said no. Imagine my smug delight when I strolled
over and looked into the giant snake wine jar... and noticed that there was also
a pickled crow in the jar!!!! Kids, even if everyone else is doing it, even if
you think it will make you popular, don’t drink wine with a pickled crow in it.
Next we piled into
some small canoes and were taken on a short trip through the island streams by
some tiny and strong Vietnamese women. Because I was a “single” our guide
matched me up with a portly Chinese businessman, but he ditched me and hopped
into another boat at the last second. I was hurt... I thought we had something.
It was around this time that I fronted up to the guide and asked, ‘when will we
see a unicorn?’ I cannot fully describe the look of confusion on the poor mans
face as he explained, ‘Unicorn’s no really here.’ It did not stop me from
asking him twice more during the day. We did notice a lot of strange broken
stumps sticking out of the streams and the most logical explanation led us to
believe these were broken unicorn horns. It would seem that Unicorn Island
was actually Unicorn
GRAVEYARD Island.
We headed to Phoenix Island, where we were taken to a coconut
candy workshop. The guide told us many many times that he was certain we would
like this coconut candy from his country more than chocolate from our own. It
was nice, and we did eat a fair bit of it, but the man was dreaming if he
thought it was better than chocolate. As we walked back to the boat, Grant made
the joking suggestion that we set one of the many chickens on the island alight
to test if it was a REAL phoenix. I found this very amusing, but I hustled him
onto the boat quickly incase he was serious.
Our guide, a lovely
man who I nicknamed Repeat due to his tendency to repeat everything he told us
at least three times, had suggested 87 times that we have the fish for lunch
because, ‘pork you can eat anywhere, chicken you can eat anywhere, but fish and
shrimp you can only eat here in the Mekong.’ Not wanting to shatter this
illusion we ordered the fish and shrimp and pretended that it was a rare
delicacy for us three kids from costal Perth.
My “boyfriend”, the Chinese business man, was seated at our table and used his
limited English to shout random comments at us. ‘THERE IS NO McDONALDS IN VIETNAM!!!....THERE
ARE SUPPOSED TO BE FOUR PRAWNS ON THIS PLATE...THIS FISH IS FROM THE MEKONG
RIVER...THERE IS ONLY KFC IN VIETNAM.’ As you can imagine it was difficult to
carry out a conversation with a screaming Chinese man at our table, a man who
was talking AT us, not TO us. The piece de
resistance came when he asked to waitress to take a photograph for him. Kate
and Grant leaned in to be in what they assumed was a snapshot of him sharing
lunch with us. Instead he had a solo shot of him stuffing a jumbo shrimp into
his mouth. That was a photo op that we have subsequently tried to recreate at
every meal since. He did pay for the shrimp though, so I thought he was
awesome.
And then, after a
short performance of traditional Vietnamese music, the Mekong
tour and my time in HCMC was over. I said goodbye to my fellow Unicorn Hunters
and began my journey up the coast of Vietnam.
Much more to come
soon! xox Luv Nads
