Of motorbikes and the great learder Ho Chi Minh

Day 50 -


Let's begin with Asian flights and us just don't get along. The following is a list of positives about the flight: We booked a United Airlines flights, so some of the PA announcements were in English. Take-offs equaled landings and there was only one of each. Eliza asked for and received a Gluten free meal.

As we entered the plane we first noticed that we were getting on midway through the plane's journey. You could feel the first leg had been long or rough or both. The passengers all had the defeated look of "please just finish this" on their faces. Eliza and I had the aisle and middle seats in the center four seat section. As we sat down, Eliza on the aisle, I noticed an elderly Vietnamese gentlemen seated next to me. This guy had to be well over 90 years old and did not look any better for all his years. At first he leaned on the common armrest. I figure, he needs it more than me. Then he starts to lean into me. It is obvious that he is in some sort of discomfort and is now leaning in my direction to alleviate the pain. Okay, this in not good I don't want to spend the rest of the flight supporting an old man. I hoped he would lean the other way. Nope. Now the woman next to him, I am assuming his daughter, is helping him adjust or fix or whatever. He leans further into me, but I figure he'll lean away when she is done assisting. Nope. As I am sitting there, supporting his weight, I catch the overwhelming sent of medicated ointment. Oh crap, this can't be good. I discretely look over to see what is the matter, only to see her hand full on down his pants and rubbing ointment on this thigh. And this is the to much for me. I turn to Eliza, who has not noticed any of this. And before I can say a word, she says with a tone of disgust and annoyance any fourteen year old girl would be proud of "the kid behind me is kicking my seat". As I recall, my response went a little like so: "She's rubbing ointment on his thigh and he's leaning on me for support. Wanna switch". I think Eliza decided the kicking kid wasn't so bad after all as she promptly declined my offer. As luck would have it a seat one row up and across the aisle was vacant. After everyone boarded, I gladly took it.

As planes commonly do, we pushed back from the causeway and taxied to the runway. Just as we were beginning the initial takeoff stage (the one where you can feel and hear the engine revving up) a lady decided she needed something from the overhead bins. And not the one directly above her, the one located five rows up and across the aisle. Man did she get the attention of the flight attendant. He yelled in several different languages, one of them being "Lady, sit down", as he chased her down the aisle.

The airborne leg of the flight was not nearly as exciting. Unless you count when I confused kilometers per hour for miles per hour and meters for feet. "Man, we are flying really low and really fast, wait I bet those are in metric."

If you have been reading our blog on a regular basis then you are familiar with how the Asian people we have traveled with exit public transportation. Winner take all, first place really does matter, bigger is better (unless you can fit between someone and their rolling suitcase). Airplanes are no different. As soon as the plane touched down people got up, removed their overhead luggage, and stated moving toward the exit (only being forced into a semi-line by the physical space the aisle provided). All before the flight attendant can even get on the PA and tell everyone to remain seated until the airplane has come to a complete stop at the gate. As we taxied, Eliza shared with me the joke of the El Al airline PA announcement: "Ladies and gentlemen, please remain seated until the plane reaches the gate. And as a reminder smoking is only allowed in designated areas inside the main terminal. And to those of you standing in the aisle smoking, welcome home". It so happens we have come up with another version: "Ladies and gentlemen...yaddayadda. And for those madly pushing for the exits even though we'll be taxing for the next ten minutes. Welcome home".


And welcome to Vietnam!


Day 51 -


So I know we have previously talked about all the bikes and cars and crazy drivers and each time say this city is worse than the one prior, but not kidding, Ho Chi Minh Cty takes the cake. The tax on cars here is astronomical so nearly everyone drives a scooter, so if you happen to catch a red light you get the opportunity to see hundreds of them line up and jostle for the best starting position on the green. A piece of advice was imparted to us before we arrived, whatever you do walk slowly from one sidewalk to the other and DO NOT stop or speed up. Sounds simple, but you can watch your life flash before your eyes when executing.

We got to try it first this in the morning on our way to Ben Than market. As John was done with the Man-Bag, it was time to locate a nice knock off North Face to replace it. This market sells everything under the sun, including the kitchen sink, literally. After buying some sunscreen (which would turn out to be just lotion, easy to figure out when the side you used it on is completely burned) we headed off on the culture tour of the town. Started at the HCMC history museum (Americans are not looking so good here), headed to the Reunification Palace (headquarters for the south during the Vietnam war and the first thing to be taken over by the north when they can into Saigon, Americans looking even worse here), and rounded out the afternoon with the War Atrocities Museum (incredibly sad and American looks truly like the root of all evil here). Ended this 90 degree day with a mellow dinner.



Day 52 -


Took off walking again this morning, much more confident in our ability to cross the street and not be killed. Our first stop was the Notre Dame Cathedral, turned out to be Easter Sunday and cathedral was closed (we missed Easter Mass) but it was quite lovely from the outside! After viewing the post office (a massive french style building), wandered into a restaurant that smelled like we were crashing a gourmet cooks BBQ party. Food was great and the view was better. Across the street was a chain link fence. On this fence a man had hung a mirror and a small basket holding some combs, scissors and razors. He put a chair in front of it and was running a small but highly successful outdoor barber shop! Following lunch we went on a pagoda hunt (turned out to be essentially hidden in the middle of an oddly shaped and poorly marked neighborhood).



This evening we met up with a family friend who has been living and working in HCMC for the last year and a half. Seth and Thuy met us at a delicious Vietnamese restaurant and ordered all sorts of good food. They also made a great list of places to see, both in Vietnam and South East Asia that we have been using since! As Seth is brave enough to drive a scooter in the city, we also got a story on traffic tickets (and how to avoid them) in HCMC.



Day 53-

Got up bright and early and walked over to the "Main backpacker drag", which is a two block square area filled with hundreds of cafes, tour companies and hotels. Located the one we booked a tour with and waited for a bus that would take us to see the Cu Chi tunnels. These are essentially a maze of underground tunnels comprised of living quarters, hidden traps, military defence and operation headquarters as well as hospitals etc. They were built by VietCong resistence in the South (some tunnels went directly under US Military bases in the area). The origional tunnels are very very small (they are little people) and the only tourists who actally fit in the origional tunnels were a 10 year old child, a petite Japanese toursit, and John. It was really cool to see how deep the resistance ran here, and how innovative the people were in their drive to stop the Americans. They have a "widened" section you can crawl/ squat through. It was sort of fun in a swealtering, dark sort of way until a girl in front of us freaked out and we had to back up to the nearest exit.


In the evening we headed over to "Saigon, Saigon", a swanky bar that was used by much of the international press during the Veitnam war as a base for reporting the events. We were looking to meet up with Amanda's friend Geradine and her husband here and going off a very old description, we could not find them. Finally, thirty minutes after we were supposed to meet, we figured out we had been sitting 2 tables away from one another, both watching the door for the other party to enter! Dinner was a blast, they shared with us many stories of living and working in Saigon. The winning story of the evening being the fact that in 2 weeks time their housekeeper used up a family sized detergent (they are just two people), confirming the suspicion that she is running a side laundry business out of their house. Time for a good nights rest as we are off to the Mekong Delta tomorrow!

Pictures to follow...sometime.