Still in Saigon

Hammer, Sickle, Pikas, Pizza Hut sign in the background
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I'm pretty sure we would have never crossed the Cambodian/Vietnam border on our own, but with the luxury of traveling with a tourist group, we proceeded accordingly.  The Vietnam border security appeared to still be in the middle of the Vietnam conflict and the border-guard looked as if they had not smiled in the last 35 years.  Fortunately, we crossed the border without incident, spending our first night in Communistic Vietnam in a city called Chau Doc.

It's sort of funny being a white Westerner in Vietnam.  The stares come from all directions as we witnessed first hand what it's truly like to be a minority.  It seemed that many of these people have seldom witnessed white people in their immediate vicinity.  My Australian firing-range mate is 6 foot 5, and easily drew attention from the shorter Vietnamese.  The Vietnamese kids on the other hand were all smiles.  They all know the English word hello and do not use it sparingly.  The kids are some of the most likeable people we have come across to date.

God Bless the USA

Photo shoot
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The next morning we boarded the bus bound for Ho Chi Minh City, a.k.a. Saigon.  During our first couple of days, it didn't take long for us to recognize that we missed the Cambodian cuisine....and let me go on record here.  The Vietnamese food is abundantly atrocious.  Several dishes have passed before our eyes, appearing like they might be appetizing to Sea Otters, or perhaps a Panda Bear.  During happy hour, it's common to see green leaves on twigs instead of popcorn and peanuts.  I'm not sure if it's bamboo or seaweed.  Absolutely disgusting.  For breakfast every morning, we have some white bread and eggs.  Sounds good, doesn't it?  Well it would be, but the eggs are usually cooked in about a cup of cooking oil, instead of a sufficient amount, say, a teaspoon.  I call them oily eggs, because that's what they come out as.  You can only imagine what this does to your digestive system.

Notre Dame Cathedral
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Saigon in a decent city.  It's fairly clean and has all the necessities that you would expect in a city of 6-8 million people.  The traffic consists of 4 million motor scooters that can be best described as semi-controlled chaos.  While I'm on the topic of traffic, it must be told that the horn honking is completely out of hand.  They honk for any number of reasons:  to turn, to pass, to go straight, to go forward,  to let you know they are behind you, to mask the sound of their own farts, and so on.  Further, I'm quite confident that our second day's bus driver was receiving an ample amount of sexual stimulus with every honk of the horn.  He seemed to be a man on a mission.  Why else would he be so honk happy?...It's completely useless.  The pedestrians are so immune to the honks that the probability of being hit while crossing the street is 18.9%.  Okay, I made that up, but it's terrifying to play Frogger in a real life situation.

Some statue of some dude
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While in Saigon, we visited the Vietnam War museum (it is called the American War here).  This onesided museum is full of anti-American sentiment, painting the Americans as the sole wrongdoers and the Viet Cong as nice young men and women that visited sick kids in hospitals in their spare time.  I know that there were many atrocities committed by American GI's, but come on.  The museum was a bit out of hand when it comes to telling the full story.

The next day, our tour group headed to the Cu Chi Tunnels which is (and was) an elaborate and complicated tunnel system used by American opposition during the Vietnam conflict.  Before exploring the network of tunnels, we were seated in a small auditorium to watch a film regarding the same.  The late 60's film was sparsely educational and overwhelmingly inappropriate to be shown during this day and age.  It celebrated American death and glorified the casualties suffered by American GI's.  Once again, it painted the American opposition as a peaceful bunch that preferred gardening and other peaceful activities, rather than the evil-empired Americans who killed without remorse.  I had had enough.  We decided to head to the firing range, which was located at the tunnels, and fire some American ammunition.  Anne and I both shot an American M-16, then departed the area.  Pipka wanted to buy some souvenirs at the Ch Chi Tunnel gift shop before we left, but I forbid her.  Until they update their inappropriate film, I encourage everyone else to do the same.

Anne in Cu Chi Tunnel hole
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Our tour group was to leave Saigon a day earlier, but the TET/New Year's celebration created a minor change to our flight schedule.  On our final night in Saigon, we played billiards, went bowling, and ate at Pizza Hut.  God Bless the USA.

bkh