Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

Just a few days......

Looking out of the window of the plane from Bali via Singapore, the city of Ho Chi Minh (HCMC) just kept expanding. It is huge! It is also the last city to fall to the Vietcong when the United States pulled out. We were both excited and a little apprehensive about our visit.

There's a part of traveling that connects with history and when you and that history collide it challenges your own history. The lives lost and stories told can't be forgotten, nor should they, yet time goes on and remembrance is sometimes the only way to keep them alive.

First thing first, we need some Dongs! (Vietnamese currency) Really wanted Alisa to be in this picture but I'm glad she had my back.

We planned our trip to Vietnam starting in the south and leaving from the north. HCMC was going to be the southern starting point and we gave ourselves three days, mainly to just get settled, go to the tunnels then head north along the coast.

The traffic was absolutely insane. There were so many layers of rules or rather a hierarchy depending on vehicle size. We later found that the pedestrian was at the bottom, slightly above the stray dog. In order to cross the street, any street, you had to just walk slowly without ever stopping and never turning back as scooters, cars, vans, trucks and buses flew by both your front and back. It took a leap of faith and it actually worked, one step at a time.

Transportation was still cheap but with only three days we wanted to get a feel for the soul of the city, there's no better way than to walk its streets, after all we finally had sidewalks again. Kinda.

A friendly woman selling coconut water helped us find the entrance to a museum we were walking by. She told us she was going home and didn't want to carry the extra weight and pulled out a machete and cut the top off of two coconuts. I said thanks and grabbed them. Of course she then demanded money. Always learning. Alisa gave her back one of the coconuts and I gave the woman roughly $1.40 to end the ordeal, lesson learned.

We walked to the Saigon Central Post Office where Alisa mailed some postcards, yes it was touristy but pretty cool and they actually arrived. The Notre Dame of Saigon was under renovation. We finally had a Bánh mì nem nướng sandwich, absolutely delicious. Next we went to the Ben Thanh Market, again touristy but worth a look.

After all, we were here for the tunnels. We used Grab to book a ride around 0900 the next morning. After looking at the many different tours that take you to Ben Dinh Cu Chi we decided to go to the less crowded and further Ben Douc tunnels alone. Our driver only spoke Vietnamese but was a wizard with Google translate as he drove. He filled the two and a half hour trip with random yet interesting information about Vietnam. To him the War was truly a civil war. Families were divided based on their beliefs. His own father was Communist while his uncle was Republican. In fact, the many streets of Cu Chi are the names of mothers who lost sons on both sides of the war.

We did our best to avoid a handful of tour groups, but we're ushered into a viewing room anyway by one of the guards/workers. We sat through a 15 minute video describing the poisonous activity the Americans were imposing on the simple farming community of Cu Chi without provocation. The film was from 1967 and couldn't have been clearer on the message. Propaganda takes many forms but this was just blatant.

We stayed with a tour group just long enough to climb through some tunnels and then slipped away unnoticed. The guard sitting next to the tunnel entrance to the commander's quarters didn't look up from his phone as we slowly descended into the longest tunnel available to visitors. He just said 15 meters. The air cooled with each step, daylight faded and I heard Alisa behind me ask, “Did he say, 15 or 50?”

This tunnel was much smaller and a lot longer than the other tunnels we went through. I couldn't crouch low enough and decided to crawl. The clay walls and floor looked deceivingly soft. The tunnels are lined with light bulbs randomly spaced about 20 to 30 feet apart. Sometimes you could see, other times you just had to feel, but it was all artificial light. After the second bat flew over my head, I was instructed by Alisa to find natural light.

Finally, a glow appeared. As I tried to get out, this bat was insisting I stay put. Every time I popped my head out he'd come at me. After three times I closed my eyes and shot up. It was only then I heard the clanking of Alisa's metal water bottle no doubt driving it crazy. I can't imagine the terror faced by all soldiers in the Vietnam/American/Civil war. I was ducking bats, not bullets. Alisa likes tours, safety in numbers and all, but she admitted it was nice to have the ability to retreat if needed without anyone in her way.

We met our driver who asked if it was worth the trip. We both agreed it was something we won't soon forget. He said he found it weird that the propaganda film only concentrated on the Americans and not the Chinese in 1979. The Chinese? Still learning.

All in all, the trip was a few dollars short of what a tour would cost. Another cheaper option is to take the bus, which would add another two hours to the journey each way. Either way you go, remember your Dongs and always have an exit plan, you'll need it. A few days in HCMC was all we needed and started making our way north.

Ho Chi Minh