The final week at the orphanage + 6 days finishing my tour of Vietnam

I wrote my last entry at the start of the third and final week at the orphanage in Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), Vietnam. Here's how the last week went there + the week after when I finished my tour of Vietnam.

The final week at the orphanage

Chris (my fellow volunteer) was off touring south Vietnam for the week. This was because it was the week of Chinese New Year/Tet which, for the Vietnamese is the the traditional time to travel and the main holiday of the year. Most people get at least 1 week off work (often 2) and as with bank holidays here they use this time to travel, to see family and generally to 'shut up shop.' It was suggested to us that we also travel. This was because the orphanage would be somewhat chaotic' and because the city would be very quiet that week - no shops open, no market, virtually no motorbikes (!). For tourists it's the worst time of the year to visit - hotels are priced high and heavily booked, shops are shut, (some) attractions are closed: a lot of the 'local life' trips would, I imagine, be completely devoid of local life because everyone would be indoors: having a break.

So, anyway, Chris was off travelling but I chose to stay because I only had 3 weeks and so I was reluctant to give up the final week (3 weeks seemed short as it was and it's not as if the orphanage was going to shut or as if I'd get my money back). I was one of the lucky ones - 1 guy booked on an i-to-i teaching project for a month taught for a total of 5 days as a result of Tet - he paid a grand and got back £150 - £75 a week for every week that the school was on holiday over Tet with no compensation for the disruption of the 2 weeks previous to that or for the idiocy of a company that sells a teaching project when the school is shut!

The week at the orphanage was somewhat disrupted and crazy but the extra visitors went away as soon as New Year had been and gone and there were fewer kids because some went home but of those remaining there were also a few new faces - kids who were off school - who I normally don't see. it was nice to just say hello to these kids because otherwise we really do spend all our time with the few that don't go to school and with the older boys who work so it's a fairly select group out of the 110 boys who actually live there.

On Monday I brought in badminton rackets. One of the kids had mentioned how much he liked badminton so rackets were something I'd been meaning to bring in for a while. Great success! They were seized immediately and the kids actually took turns to use them, ie. sharing which is something they don't always do. I also discovered that Hom (the special needs kid) LOVES badminton and is actually pretty good. Turned out that although I'd never seen them (they'd been hoarded away) he already had a set of rackets and he brought them out for us to play with. Realsiing that all that the boys were missing was shuttlecocks in a strange way taught me something about charitable aid - ALWAYS get to know your project before you donate! Preconceptions about what a project needs are likely to be wrong so money can easily be misspent. I had bought rackets but all I needed to buy were shuttlecocks. I would have bought a load of sweets (kids like sweets right?) but having been there I realised that everyone else had the same idea so they had loads - what they never got was fresh fruit so on the last day I bought them apples instead (another success - woohoo!)

On Tuesday, Caroline had planned to have a day of 'jeux de pistes' - the French may be wrong and I'm not sure of the exact translation but roughly it was to be a day of party games. On the Monday, at lunchtime (that 3 hour gap between 11 and 2) we went to the supermarket and the local market to buy sweets and toys for use in the games and as prizes. At the time we were shopping I was confused as to why we needed so many sweets for prizes for the teams - the boys had got so many sweets for New Year that it seemed a bit of a waste of time but I ran with it - she was organising everything else so I figured I was more there to cheer on her efforts than to give any real input (disheartening but pragmatic.) The Tuesday went well - from what she'd said I thought it was going to be an all day event but actually it was all over in time for lunch at 11:00. The way it worked there were 10 'stations' and 4 teams. Each of the 'stations' was manned by one of the older boys who was dressed up like a pirate/beggar/ghost and who was there to greet the 4 teams. Each of the 4 teams comprised c.15 boys of mixed ages. On the path to or at a gate before each station the older boy would stand as sentry and block the way to 2 of the 4 participating teams. He would ask each team a question that Caroline had devised earlier and the correct answer (or a long wait and several guesses) would gain them entry to the station itself. The two teams would then compete at such games as shooting out candlelights by watergun, bobbing for ping-pong balls and relay races. Obviously I've only listed out 7 of the 10 games but it was all in Vietnamese so really, for half the time, I hadn't a clue what was going on. I just followed the boys as they ran manically around the monastery grounds and, as a result, saw some areas (e.g. the cemetery) that I hadn't been into before (regarding them as the monks living quarters and thus beyond my perimeter). The boys definitely enjoyed themselves: we had 71 out of 110 participating so, given that some of the boys were home for the holidays, it was an ultra high turnout. It also got all the boys to work together, which happens sometimes but certainly not everyday and, in the coming days, I continued to see the boys digging into their drawers to pull out a handful of the sweets they got for taking part so they obviously stood out against the hordes of Oreos etc that they'd got from other people.

Against it, there was an element of the ego-trip about it: yes the boys enjoyed it BUT again they were made to pose for photographs of them "having such a good time" and in the days that followed it seemed that some people were patting themselves on the back for something done on Tuesday instead of focusing on the boys who were bored on the Wednesday. As with all donations and volunteers, something is usually better than nothing but because it has been 'volunteered' the value of the contribution is variable and unpredictable and it is inappropriate to ask for more than a person is willing/able to give. It is an age-old issue that comes up whenever you consider privatisation in the UK or similar ideas. You have to be paying someone or giving them some other incentive if you are going to ask them to be 100% committed and you are never going to find an entirely selfless person along the way. Hopefully the volunteer will do some good but there is always going to be an element of self-interest: the difficulty is in marrying self-interest with the interests of the project.

Tuesday, night I got back to find that, it being New Year, i-to-i had sent gifts for both orphanages (they support 2 in HCMC). My fellow housemates are based at the other orphanage and they'd taken on the mammoth task of sorting out 6 boxes of Tesco and ELC toys out into things appropriate for the girls at their orphanage and the boys at mine. I'd finished at the orphanage early and usually the girls were back before me as their project was closer. Today, however, all was quiet. At 6:30 they arrived back and I found out the reason why. Alex, our co-ordinator, had arranged for them to have a cab to take all the boxes in. Having taken the things in, Alex then took them out with the rest of the i-to-i staff for a New Year lunch and an afternoon of less-than-sober karaoke. Why didn't I get given a cab and taken to this fantastic lunch?  Well, Alex is not the most organised of people: very nice but not very co-ordinated for a co-ordinator. He forgot. He was pretty sheepish about it the next day but still, it was fun to make him squirm!

The same night, we were about to go out to dinner but Jess's key broke in the lock of the door. It was the latest in a string of bad luck for Jess. Since arriving from Australia the previous Friday, she'd had, within half an hour of arriving, her purse stolen with all her Vietnamese money and all her cards. (Fortunately she still had some US dollars and her passport.) She'd then, on the Saturday, got into one of the dodgy cabs with a fast meter and been locked in by an aggressive and scary driver until she paid the $10 his meter showed (the journey normally costs less than $2.) The broken key seemed to be confirmation that bad things come in 3s. We'd sort of seen this one coming: the lock was very dodgy so the only surprise was that it was the lock that had broken the key rather than the other way round. (We had mentioned it to Alex before but...) The landlord came round and gave us lots of "useful" suggestions seemingly thinking that we could get out one of the other doors (they'd never given us the key) or out of the main door if he gave us the key (we had our keys but one was broken in the lock so we couldn't use it). Having finally understood the problem he got a coathanger and popped the jey out 2 seconds later so we were free at last. Did make me think though, that as bad things go, I'd had 2 that weekend: I'd filled my camera with sand in Mui Ne and I'd left my passport behind. Would I have a #3?

Wednesday morning, without a cab for my i-to-i goodies, I took everything in traveller-stylee: giant backpack filled to the brim with cuddly toys and small toy trucks on my back, daypack on my front: choc a block with jigsaws, other toys and elastoplast, hands armed with two buckets of bricks and a big truck that wouldn't fit into either of my other packs (which between them can take 100+ litres worth of stuff!). Fortunately, the bus was pretty empty (it being the run up to New Year) so I had space for both me and my luggage. Getting off was less easy: the bus didn't quite stop and I couldn't see my feet so I tripped on a raised paving slab and fell flat on my face with no hands to stop me just buckets of bricks which saved me from scrapes but went all over the pavement. I had some very bemused/confused passers-by helping me, this random Western backpacker in a non-tourist area with buckets of bricks and a giant truck, who was struggling to stand up with the weight on her back but who seemed to find the whole thing very funny (I don't know why we laugh when we fall over in the West but I took the habit with me to Vietnam). One of my "helpers" invited me into his house 2 doors up but as I wasn't sure what that was all about I declined and carried on to the orphanage.

The kids have never looked so pleased to see me. I rationed the goods. Wednesday morning: gave the kids jigsaws, bricks and trucks. Wednesday afternoon: took out a foam monster faces kit and made faces with the kids out of foam and glue (got a lot of the even less privileged kids from just outside the orphanage involved too). Thursday: drew pictures with them using crayons and a stencil kit. Friday: nothing - other volunteers were doing origami so left all the arts and crafts inside. I could have given them everything all at once but it would have been hoarded and never used. It's now all stored in the computer room so hopefully other volunteers will use it when they arrive: I passed on the message to Chris so I hope it will be passed down the line.

Wednesday night was New Year's. One of the older boys at the orphanage asked me to meet him and the others in town as they were coming in to watch the fireworks: I tried to locate him by text message but it didn't really work so it was just me and the other volunteers for the night. We ate at the night-market: lots of Vietnamese families seemed to be there for once, which was unusual, as it's normally quite a touristy area. There were also unusually high numbers of beggars which is apparently typical for New Year's. Alex had his camera stolen (he stupidly left it on the end of the table) and as the only people to approach our table were beggars we assume it was one of them. Alex seemed more bothered about being unable to take photos of New Year's than the loss of his camera so the others promised that they'd take some photos for him and send them on.

The fireworks were fantastic but oddly there was nothing else really going on. It's a very chilled out way of doing New Year's. None of this lairy, drinking beer and getting off-you-face trollied that you have in the UK. Instead it seems to be a case of having a nice meal and then moving to the main street where, you can watch some typical Vietnamese dancing on a stage on the way and then on arrival, depending on who you are, you do one of the following:

- families: sit down on the grass and chat while the kids play. Treat the kids to an ice-cream or a soft drink (!) (no other street vendors of any kind)

- young people: get an ice-cream and walk about or sit on the grass and drink (1 or 2) beers

- expensively dressed girls: pay a photographer to take an ultra-posed shot of you sitting on a swing or standing by some flowers with a fixed smile for display at a later date

- show offs: go upstairs to the bar overlooking the main street and pose with a drink in your hand looking down at all the plebs. The plebs have the best view of the fireworks so really you're missing out!

There was a notable lack of any old people and, even though Vietnam is fairly egalitarian towards the sexes, there were few girls out on the street unless they were part of a (presumably married) couple. At midnight the fireworks went off for a good 15-20 minutes with lots of enjoyably child-like appreciation from the crowd (no Western cynicism or 'cool'). Then, as soon as they'd finished, the whole crowd immediately dispersed and headed home. Party over. We had to go back to the backpacker area for any sign of life and even there there was only 1 real bar open and that shut at 3am: HUGE DISAPPOINTMENT as we were just getting going.

Thursday and Friday were quiet days at the orphanage. I don't remember too much about them except for:

(i) Sitting with one of the families just outside the orphanage on the Thursday and drinking with them (+ eating what I think was dried fish but not sure and an egg which I'm sure wasn't right but you can't turn down Asian hospitality.) When I arrived at the orphanage there were a lot of volunteers (4) so at lunchtime we used to go to the cafe down the street for iced coffee etc. On the way to this cafe we aleays walked past a family with a little street stall selling nothing (so it seemed to me) but Mirinda (a bit like Fanta) and beer. It didn't seem to me that they ever had much custom so really they were all sitting there all day with nothing to do. They used to yell out 'Hello-Moto' to us when we arrived each day: the only English I think they know (from a Motorola ad in case your wondering.) I yelled back Nokia one day and they responded with fits of laughter (it's a pretty lame response I know but it seemed to work.) Anyways, they sit at this stall all day: 3 generations, all equally bored and really with nothing. Their little corrugated iron house is behind and I think the guys gamble with cards in the alley next to it. It doesn't feel like a rough area (it is after all right next to a monastery) but there is a definite absence of cash. On the Thursday, I was without my fellow volunteer Chris but still had little to do at lunchtime so I thought I'd take my book and head to the cafe anyway: it was hot and I was thirsty. On the way this family waved a bottle of Mirinda at me and I thought 'Why not?' I'd always wanted to sit with them but it's the sort of thing that's much easier to do on your own than as a group. I sat, I drank Mirinda (too much - they kept topping me up), I bought one of the guys a beer for a $1 (thus pleasing the mother running it because she'd been asking for a $1 all week) and it was all quite friendly. They were very, very hospitable: Granny getting me the dodgy egg, the mother topping me up and giving me the dodgy fish skin thing, the kids joking about how the older girl was in love with the boy she was sat next to but how he liked me (white skin!). After a while another girl who spoke a little English and who lived down the street came and asked me where I was from and so we could talk a little. It was really really nice and great because it was my last week and I'd wanted to intrude on them since day 1 and now it didn't feel like intruding. I didn't repeat it on the Friday but maybe if I'd been there longer I'd have spent more time with them - as before, in many ways the kids out of the orphanage are worse off than the ones in it.

(ii) Setting out tables and chairs for lunch on the Friday and beintg spotted by Western visitors who all immediately joined in (I suppose they thought I was one of them and that this was the thing to do.) Setting up tables and chairs was one of those things that I did because it was easy: I don't speak the language and it's hot so playing with the boys sometimes feels like a lot of effort. Setting up tables and chairs was a way of still being useful while giving myself a break. Anyway, I had about 6 people suddenly putting out plates (and doing it wrong) and setting up chairs (too many - they got a bit overenthusiastic). It was nice because I realised I do know something about the boys and their routine but again it confirmed how useless we Westerners are when we come to projects wanting to help but without really knowing how.

(iii) Taking in apples on the Friday for the kids as a treat because they get a lot of junk (it's cheap and can be stored) but not much fruit, especially not fresh-that-day fruit and especially especially not apples. It was a bit of an ego-trip for me because it's something I can only do as a one-off (£20 for 70 kids) but the apples were huge, the kids loved them and even better they won't be disappointed if they don't get them again in the near future because I saw one kid take his with surprise and be told by the dinner lady that it was because it was New Year. That was great for me because you get told off so much about creating expectations and then leaving.

Remains of my tour of Vietnam

On Saturday I went to Hoi An (flew for $55 which is twice normal prices because it's Vietnam's peak season but still pretty cheap). I had booked to stay in a hotel ("Blue Sky") at $30 a night so it was a bit expensive but it was only for a couple of nights and I didn't know what else there would be in peak season. It was a lovely hotel (bit slow at serving breakfast because the baker opens late over New Years but otherwise fine - view over the paddy fields is overrated though). They didn't have my booking because a bit of a slip in the English meant that I'd understood one e-mail to be confirmation of my room whereas they meant it as a temporary reservation pending reconfirmation by moi. As I hadn't reconfirmed they had no $30 rooms left. Damn. For the same price, they gave me a "double" with 4 (yes, 4!) double beds and then moved my luggage for me the next day when a cheaper room became available. In Vietnam it seems double rooms may have considerably more than 1 double bed; maybe it's for the whole family, for backpackers it's worth asking as if you're sharing you essentially get a private dorm for a pretty reasonable price.

Hoi An is an old port town. Historically, it traded with the Chinese, the Japanese and the rest of Vietnam. Needless to say they have all left their mark. The old town is a UNESCO World Heritage site and has been very well preserved leaving lots of very photogenic yellow streets, merchants houses and assembly halls. Hoi An is both riverside and beach side: it sits on the river but a mere 4km or so down the road is Cua Dai beach, a wide and fairly expansive beach bordering the China Sea. The road running along to the beach passes some very pretty stretches of riverside and green fields. There are, naturally, hotels aplenty along the strip but for proximity to the shops, cafes and restaurants of the old town I still think, scenery aside, it's worth staying in Hoi An proper (especially if you only have a few days).

By 2pm I was booked in and I'd had lunch. According to all the guidebooks, Hoi An is a disappointing place at first but give it some time and the slow pace of life will begin to charm you. 'Give it some time'? Does that sound like me? I was very conscious that I only had so many days to get through Cambodia before returning to Thailand for the final week. I'd then realised that if I got to Thailand just a couple of days early I could make it to Full Moon which was scheduled to take place the night before I was due on Koh Samui: the nearest island, some 20 minutes away. Bearing this in mind, I'd cut down my 4 days in Hoi An to 3 one of which was this day and it was already 2pm!

With some misgivings that I might be rushing things, I went to the nearest ticket office in the old town and bought a 75,000VND ticket (just under $5) to gain access to the sites. The system in Hoi An is a little odd. You buy one ticket which is valid for one day. Although there are multiple museums and assembly halls, the ticket only grants you access to 5 places and your choice is restricted: you can see either the temple on the Japanese Covered Bridge or Chua Ong; one of the museums (the Museum of History and Culture, the Museum of Trade Ceramics and the Museum of Sa Huynh Culture); one of the participating Chinese Assembly Halls (the Phuoc Kien, Trieu Chau and Cantonese halls); one of the participating merchants' houses or family chapels (the houses of Tan Ky, Phung Hung and Quan Thang and the Tran Family Chapel); and the Hoi An Handicraft Workshop at 9 Nguyen Thai Hoc 1. If you want to see more assembly halls and musuems you either have to sneak around the entry guard or buy another ticket and, no, you can't see 2 assembly halls and skip the museums; it's a very rigid system.

I was thus faced with the prospect of trying to fit in 5 places in one short afternoon before night fell or my ticket ran out. I rushed along and quickly saw the Phuoc Kien Assembly Hall: a beautiful courtyard and interior, full of visitors but not as touristy as one might expect. As you enter the hall itself you are confronted with cones of incense from each of which a large yellow ticket hangs. On this ticket is written numerous names, the idea being (I assume) that burning the incense brings good fortune to the nominated few. I assume that,as in a church where you buy a candle and then pray, here people purchase a cone of incense and then hope. From the assembly hall I got a bit lost trying to find the Museum of History and Culture. It's joined (without a separating wall) to the family chapel of Quan Ang, which I did not want to visit, and it's also quite small. Thus, I walked into the courtyard and, taking a right, found myself inside Quan Ang. I rushed out in horror thinking that they were going to stamp my ticket (and thus prevent me seeing another merchant's house) and then wandered outside again for a few minutes trying to work out where I was on the map: I was sure I was in the right place? I went back inside and took a left this time: bingo! I had my tickets intact and I was indeed in the right musuem. 10-20 minutes later I was out again and on my way. Interesting as it was, there was little in the way of any in-depth research on display. You got the impression that they'll create a museum for anything if they think they can charge for it. This was a fairly ramshackle collection of items: some worth seeing, some not. It all serves to convey the impression that Hoi An has forever been a melting pot of cultures with various influences borne in by the trade routes. That said, you can whizz through its artefacts in a very short space of time and move on. From there I went to go and see one of the merchant's houses: it was shut for New Year's so the family probably still lives there. Thus had to go and visit a second rate merchant's house which was pretty enough but felt like going into a shop for tourists more than anything else. On the way, I went over the Japanese covered bridge, the symbol of Hoi An and didn't even have my ticket checked. Thus found that I'd seen everything I wanted to see and it wasn't even 5pm (the handicrafts workshop was also shut for New Year.) Conclusion: do take your time over it: there's no rush as what there is to see won't take very long so you might as well meander a bit, and don't go at New Year's: if you do, half the places worth seeing will be shut!

As stated before, at New Year everyone in Vietnam takes at least 1 week off (maybe 2) and so the country shuts down. In Saigon, all the tours were running but in the city itself everything was shut bar hotels, restaurants and the War Museum, which never shuts. Most people I met in Saigon (HCMC) only had 2 days there and assumed that the War Museum was shut like everything else: cue massive disappointment as it's the thing of greatest value. In Hoi An, the market was virtually non-existent and many of the tailors' shops were shut. Over the 3 days that I was there: Saturday, Sunday, Monday (NY was the previous Wednesday), things opened up a lot but still, with so few shops open, it probably felt more crowded than usual. The old town is quite small and as Hoi An is firmly on the package tour agenda I assume that it is always quite busy but with no shops we were all crammed on an even smaller square footage than usual.

Per the guidebook, Hoi An was thus, at first, a little disappointing: sights? what sights? and way too touristy. Come day 2 and day 3, however, while I was waiting in cafes to have my suits made, I did start to be charmed a little (I'm such a cliche). Hoi An is very touristy but escape from the streets and into the cafes and shops and it can still feel very calm and very 'nice'. Spend some money on tailoring or souvenirs and it becomes a whole load more fun (although if you want to buy art I suggest waiting until you hit Hanoi).

I bought 3 things from 3 different tailors: 2 suits and 1 wool jacket for $250. Tailoring is Hoi An's most famous craft and so every other shop makes clothes to order. With so many shops how did I choose which to go to? It was an easy decision: there weren't too many open and there were even fewer making suits. All items were ready within 48 hours: twice as slow as normal because of New Year's but still pretty quick.  The suit I got made at Phuong Huy (in the guidebook) was right first time. The other (can't remember the shop name but it's at #73 Tran Phu) needed the waistband made bigger: they would have done it but I was too British to ask! The coat was fine buut I adjusted it anyway - partly just because it's fun!

I also did a 2 hour cookery course with dinner to finish at the Hai Cafe who also run the Red Bridge cooking school. There are a couple of cooking schools in Hoi An and they don't have cookbooks so you have to visit if you want the recipes. The 2 hour course is the usual things: fish in banana leaves, spring rolls and a squid salad (you can use tofu if you're veggie). If you do the full day they teach you how to make your own rice paper (dead easy apparently). They'll also sell you a pretty hander slicer and grater which is good for any Asian stir fry type stuff and which they use in their own kitchen. There is also another cook school down the road at Morning Glory restaurant where you can choose what type of cuisine you do and which runs professional as well as beginner courses and includes market visits.

The sites, the tailors and the cook course were all day 1. Day 2 was a visit to the Cham temples at My Son complete with bomb craters left from the Vietnam War. The government is leaving the holes as historical testament. [This was an area of thick jungle - we saw a snake just getting off the bus and a huge spider as we walked through - and jungle areas were obviously guerilla hideouts hence the bombing.] It was nice to get out of the town and to see some countryside, especially since this was so nearby. The temples are pretty ruined (by time rather than bombs) and they cover a fairly small area so you will be finished by lunchtime. The quickest way to get back is by bus but, for variety, you can also get back by boat. In theory this gives you a chance to enjoy some local life but, again, being New Year's, I enjoyed it but found local life to a be a little thin on the ground.

The remains of day 2 and 3 were primarily spent visiting the tailors for fittings and generally relaxing and enjoying the food. The cuisine is slightly different to elsewhere in Vietnam so there are a couple of local specialities to try although if you just want some good food I'd go straight to Morning Glory: I had a curry there on the last day and it was just yummy!

At the end of day 3 I grabbed a sleeper bus for the trip back to Saigon (HCMC) - complete luxury as you can lie out flat for the entirety of the trip. For $48 it was more expensive than a plane in low season but this was high season, the planes were fully booked and regardless of cost I didn't want to sit upright for the whole of a 24hr trip.

Back in Saigon, 26hours later, I caught up with my fellow volunteers. Mainly this consisted of listening to nasty tales about Nha Trang, Vietnam's premier beach resort destination. Jess split her lip by getting dehydrated at some mud baths and falling down on the stone, resulting in hospital scans, stitches and a $78 room for the final night as she and Chris had checked out already and on trying to check back in had found everything fully booked. Chris had various things stolen - apparently if you are a single guy, out to have some fun and you go to certain bars and have a bit to drink then the 'girls' will gang up on you and try to take advantage every which way. I did stop at Nha Trang oh-so-briefly for breakfast on the way back from Hoi An. It felt a bit like Blackpool with dive shops thrown in: big beach, fish and chip shop, English cafe for breakfast, lots of drinking going on. Chris and Jess spent almost a week there partying over New Year's and, despite the mishaps, thoroughly enjoyed it. I suspect that for a week by the sea, I might enjoy it too but it wouldn't be my first choice and for this trip, I'm not sorry I skipped it.

I finished my tour of Vietnam with visits to the Cu Chi tunnels and the CaoDai Holy See 100km outside the city.

CaoDaism is a very curious little religion. It is a mix of Catholicism, Confucianism and Buddhism with Victor Hugo among its "saints." They worship the 'all seeing eye' and rather than combine all the elements of the 3 religions it seemed to me that they kept the outward appearance of each while creating a religion whose rituals were unique. The majority of the followers live in the CaoDai village. Just before midday those who can, make their way to the temple for the service: only the old come daily as they are the only ones (in my guide's words) with time for religion: younger people have jobs. Lay people attending wear white. Men on one side, women on the other. Musicians in a room upstairs. Tourists along the balcony. The priests wear either red, yellow or blue, with different hats indicating the 3 religious strands that have been used in creating this religion: a bishops' mitre for the Catholic section (red, yellow or blue), a Chinese cap for the Confucian lot (red, yellow or blue) and a sort of skull cap for the Buddhist sector (again: red, yellow or blue). Our guide thought that the colours indicated rank but as he wasn't a follower he knew very little. At the centre was a nun with a long veil over her head: the only women of rank amongst a number of priests. All face the all-seeing-Eye and at certain points a drum is beaten and the heads bob up and down in time with it's rhythm: to an observer the movement of the heads is like watching the vibrations from a gong. Very very strange but the followers are in earnest so there's little to mock.

The Cu Chi tunnels were also very interesting. Our guide, like most guides, was a war veteran of sorts. He did not want to fight so he had taken exams to become an interpreter and had then acted as interpreter for an American commander of one of the many divisions fighting in the war. It sounded like he had met many important people so to think that he now has to act as a tour guide to make money seems a great pity for someone with his experience and presumable skills. He was very anti-war and spoke of his job as a way to pass on the 'peace at all costs' message to a new generation. During the war he spent a lot of time flying up and down the country and with his role as liason to the military he was probably exposed to more than most.

The tunnels at Cu Chi have been expanded to fit tourists but are still pretty small and very claustrophobic. You have to admire the strength of will of any guerilla fighter prepared to lie in one of these tunnels for weeks on end to avoid capture. [Equally you have to laugh at the Americans who just couldn't fit and had to use Mexican recruits 'jungle rats' to go down them.] I made it into one hole and one tunnel but I was out pretty quick. I also went down to the shooting range but I didn't want to fire a gun: an experience I can do without, thanks. Word of warning: if you do go to a shooting range, cover your ears before you get there: they're deafening and only those shooting get ear-muffs!

The following day I jumped on a bus at 9am to Phnom Penh. We spent a good hour at the border having our passports and visas taken away and given back and taken away and given back but come 4pm or so we were in the Cambodian capital, checking in to the backpacker places by the riverside and being asked 'do you smoke?' I'm still so naive, at first, I didn't even understand what they meant!