The City so popular, they named it twice

Another propellor plane from Phnom Penh for the 312 miles to Ho Chi Minh City or Saigon as it used to be known, took a little over 55 minutes.  The only pictures or film I have seen of the city was that taken at the end of the Vietnam War (or The American War as it's called here) with the helicopters taking off from the roof of the US Embassy, that North Vietnamese tank pushing through the gates of the Government Palace and the film of Robin Williams waking up the troops in 'Good Morning Vietnam' (which was apparently filmed in Thailand).  Apart from the green uniforms of the People's Army and the red flags with yellow stars visible everywhere in the airport, reminding you that you were in a Communist controlled country, we could have been in Hong Kong or Thailand.  It's certainly nothing like my idea of a communist country (based on my experienes of East Berlin of the late 1970's) The people we met were very friendly and helpful, even the stern looking Immigration officer gave me a smile as I greeted her and thanked her in (very badly accented) Vietnamese (during the 55 minute flight all I had managed to learn was 'hello' (pronounced 'Sin Chow') and 'thank you' (pronounced 'calm on').  The people looked prosperous and there was a tremendous amount of foreign investment visible in the country. A taxi ride to the Le Le Hotel situated very close to the centre of the city only took 20 minutes but seemed a lot longer.  First off all, cars are driven on the right, which is the French influence, and secondly, as in Cambodia, motor cycle riders don't need a licence or to take lessons.  They just buy a motor bike or scooter and set to.  Lane discipline is non existent and it is not unusual to see motor cyclists coming towards you on your side of the road.  No one indicates, they merely turn into the road they want to go to, and the general rule appears to be 'might is right'.  Despite this, I didn't see one traffic accident or collision while we were there so what system there is, appears to work well.  The one instrument every rider and driver uses, though, is the horn.  They sound it when they set off, when they stop, when they are overtaking or undertaking, when they are turning left or right and they also sound it if it's been more than 15 seconds since they last sounded it.  It's as if they want to make sure that, of all the actions of a car or a motor cycle, as long as the horn works, then all is right with the world!  The roads are packed with motor cycles for most of the day and even though we had a 6th floor hotel room, the noise still permeated into the room. Crossing the road is an experience in itself. There are 2 options, one is to walk very, very, slowly across the marked pedestrian crossings so that traffic can see you and take avoiding action.  The other, if you do not wish to risk it on your own, is to wait till an old lady starts walking across and then follow her very closely!

The Le Le hotel is one we would recommend, with everything fairly central and only  a short taxi ride or walk away.  We even walked to the famous (in Vietnam) Ben Thanh market where Elaine bought a beautiful chess set, while Denise and I bought several local artifacts, all at what we consided to be good prices.

Apart from the usual touristy (or cultural) bits in the city, we took a trip to the Cu Chi (pronounced Coo Chee) tunnels about 30 od kms outside the city.  These were first built by the Viet Minh in their battle against the French but were greatly extended by the Viet Cong in the confrontations with the Americans and South Vietnamese.  The tour of the tunnels is preceded by a 20 minute film showing how the peace loving people of Cu Chi, were interrupted in their farming by the aggressive actions of the American criminals and their unwarranted bombings of the country, causing these peaceful people to take up arms and hide in the tunnels and ultimately defeat the foreign aggressors. Very fair and impartial I thought!  Our guide, Mr Khanh, was a veteran of this war and seemed quite proud of the way in which his countrymen were able to hide and then pop up behind the enemy forces and attack them.  Many of these tunnels had traps set for the unwary and an example of them are on show.  Mr Khanh explained that many of the traps were not designed to kill but to wound or maim as this took more troops out of the field to return their injured comrades to safety.  For those of a claustrophobic nature, the tunnels are very narrow and low and passage is difficult.  For those of a broader beam, it is even more difficult.  Iwill admit that I did not experience the delights of traversing the Cu Chi tunnels.  It took the human race almost a million years to learn to walk upright and I thought it silly to return to walking crouched over.  Also, if God had wanted us to continue walking in this fashion, he would have put Gin and Tonics on the floor!

On the way back to Ho Chi Minh City, we stopped at a factory, subsidised by the Government, where victims of the defoliant Agent Orange work, producing lacquered pictures or paintings.  We were told that, despite the defoliant being used only by the USA, none of these factories receive any aid from the USA and no reparations have been made to the Vietnam Government to offset the cost of looking after these victims.  The damage caused by Agent Orange was very apparent, with hearing, sight, or limb defects.  It was even more harrowing to learn that children are still being born today with defects linked to this defoliant. 

One of the interesting, but sad, aspects of this city is the story of the elderly trishaw riders.  Known as 'the forgotten', many of them are intellectuals such as university professors, doctoprs, lawyers, teachers, etc, who, when the Viet Cong overran the city, were suspected of aiding the Americans, even those who had publicly protested against the American and South Vietnamese actions.  They were all arrested, stripped of their professional status and shipped off to 're-education centres' to work on the land. Those who survived, were also stripped of their citizenship, which meant they could not own property, hold down jobs or even, officially, live within the boundary of Ho Chi Minh City.  Many have lost their families, their status and any benefits available to the rest of the population. Because they cannot buy or rent property, they have no chance of starting new families. Despite all the advances made by the Vietnamese government, this is one wrong which has not been righted.  They sleep in their trishaws on street corners and survive as best they can.  I have heard riders calling out for customers in several languages.  Denise and I took a short ride each in a trishaw back to our hotel and I spoke to my rider, who seemed quite philosophical about what had happened.  In very good English he told me that we should not look back at the regrets of the past but to the hopes of the future.  I wanted to pay him more than the normal fare but he told me there was a fixed fee.  We paid this, but each received a significant tip.

Friday 2nd Feb, we had had enough of the Reunification centres and the cacophony of the motor cycles and took a bus ride to a beach resort called Mui Ne for the weekend to allow us to recharge our batteries before starting the travelling again on the Monday.