HO CHI MINH CITY, VIETNAM

2016-06-15, 22:46, JASON

BUDGET , STAY: NEW SAIGON HOSTEL

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You don't realize privilege unless you've been in a situation where you have to experience when it's taken away from you. We had avoided traveling to Vietnam despite it being one of the "cheap 4" cities you can get to from Singapore consistently -- the others being Jakarta, Kuala Lumpur, and Bangkok. Cheap being relative to the other cities in Southeast Asia. The reason for that was because I had to apply for a Visa, which cost about 40 USD for one entry. Since we usually take quicker weekend trips, this easily added to the base value we would have to shell out (or, I would) for the Visa. I'm very thankful that I have a passport that allows me to travel to many places at limited price. Despite all my bashing of the U.S., my upbringing was very solid and I had a wonderful support network that has given me a platform to do the things I want to do, with relatively little responsibility. A year and a half after arriving in Vietnam, we decided to bite the bullet and explore the socialist frontier of Ho Chi Minh City. Applied for a multi-entry visa for three months too, so expect some more from this wonderful country.

They weren't lying when they said this is motorbike city. It really is. You feel it in your lungs, from the acrid gas that permeates the ambient air. You hear it, too. The revving of the engines, like some creature clawing at the door in intervals. Except, in this case it's probably 1,000 creatures whose random rev-on-rev-off sound blend into some chaotic orchestra. There are more bikes than cars or buses on the road, stacked with two or more people to one unit. Occasionally, the four-family group or dog tagged along, all clustered onto two rubber wheels that string them along. There's a fluidity amidst the chaos, which is counterintuitive until you experience your first Jay-walk. You are able to cross the street at any moment, even if traffic is proceeding given the sheer number of cycles on the road. The trick is to not break pace, otherwise the traffic breaks pace as well. I'd say crossing the busy streets was half of our adventure there.

Another piece of Vietnam that was a constant in our time there was iced coffee. For those that don't know, Vietnam is one of the largest coffee exporters in the world. It's a unique, mocha-ish tasting drink with a strong coffee flavor, condensed milk, and a bunch of ice. So much, that it's as if you had a side of coffee with your ice, but that little sip of cold, strong coffee is just the pick-me-up you need in the hot weather.

The last constant in our trip there was the neverending supply of American tourists. Perhaps it was to understand their involvement in the war, or maybe that Vietnam was a country in which we've had very recent history, and it remained in the consciousness of Americans. Whatever the reason, you could see and hear them from a mile away. Interestingly enough, countries in S.E. Asia that have had significant American influence (Philippines, Vietnam) seemed to have over representative amounts of American tourists. Maybe next time I ought to interview them as to why they are there, because I don't think my reason for being there is similar: they have good street food.

Upon arriving, we realize that our hostel booking date is actually for the 9th and the 10th, as opposed to the 8th and the 9th. We discuss with the desk staff, and they say they have no room on the night of arrival, so we Mary and Josephed our way to the next Inn. No booking. It took us about 3 tries to find a hostel that had space, and it turned out to be a private room off the main strip for just two USD more! The other hostel looked a bit backpackery, too, with bros sitting around a table drinking their Vietnamese beer. Anytime you hear those loud bro-y accents you just want to cringe a little bit. Whether it be Scouse or Midwestern, it's like, "....uhghhhhhhh." But, as it goes, I have one of those accents so maybe I'm projecting my insecurities onto them! We settle in, and decide to take a nice stroll around the city to find some food. Turns out, our hostel is on Bùi Viện, the main party street of Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC). The place is crowded and a riot: everyone from locals to tourists sitting along the road side, drinking beers and eating. Small food stalls selling Banh Mì and various other Vietnamese snack foods are abundant. The touters are out trying to get you to dine at their place, since they know it's a great place for business. Everywhere the street is bustling, and it's a young, alive city. They've utilized the outdoor weather perfectly, with people sat on small tables alongside the road chatting and enjoying the company. Probably one of the nicest outdoor scenes I've seen in a while.

Further out from the main street, we come across the Bến Thành Market, lit up with neon Christmas lights alongside the edges. Outside, the night vendors have propped up their shops selling various trinkets, including those Asian style fans that fold up. And, here again there is plenty of food to go around. Thorin and I pick up some local street food that is slightly marked up due to the tourist nature of the area, but that does not detract from the quality. We get a 5-colored rice snack that is savory and sweet, a perfect blend.

And, even further along, we make it to the pedestrianized street that houses Hồ Chí Minh's statue. You would probably guess that all of the world's hoverboards ended up here, as 70% of the people were riding along these things. They came in all sizes, small ones that are just essentially a platform for your feet, ones with bigger wheels and knee pads in the middle so you could clench onto your center of gravity. There were couples holding hands each on a hoverboard, and there were also couples sharing a hoverboard and moving together. People of all ages, from kids that just learned how to walk, to adults in their 60s and 70s, all of them on hoverboards. It was like a scene out of back to the future, with Uncle Ho watching over everyone. Some sort of futuristic, socialist film noir-esque scene out of Blade Runner. The neon lights from the hoverboard, the spirit of the Vietnamese, against the backdrop of a cool summer sky. 

There's always that different feeling you get when you go to one place at a different time of the day. We're so used to capturing our memories and associating them with the environment at the time that it throws us off if we experience it in a different way. This happened several times in HCMC, as we revisited the places we had seen the night prior.

The first stop was back to the Market. The outdoor shops were still open, but this time the interior of the market was open as well, and this one was POPPIN'. Inside, there was a clothes section, a food court section, and a butchers section. The clothes section was narrow and sold a variety of different fabrics and shirts, it was impossible not to get a bit lost in there. The food court section blended in to the clothes ones, where suddenly instead of seeing the colorful fabric you were distracted by the colorful food on the shelves. Of course, there was your stall selling coffee beans, but also other street food varieties. The butchers was probably the most exciting. Laid out in front of you were the organs of animals, cleaned and ready to be sold. You saw everything, from lungs, to heart, liver, and even brain. A wonderful protrayal of the utilization of the entire animal as a food source. Then, when you turned around, a fish market with people descaling the fish and gutting them to sell. It completely captured the spirit of a developing country, everytime you turn around and look, something new was around the corner. 

Heading north of the market was the Reunification Palace, renamed to Independence Palace (Dinh Độc Lập). This was essentially the "White House" of South Vietnam during the War, and also the site of surrender. There's a wonderful lawn spread out in the front, with a single fountain planted in the middle. To the right, when facing the building, some tanks. The memorialization here is what it's all about: the exterior is out of the 60s, resembling a rectangular, low-rise corporate building with stern columns, flanked on both sides by a row of Vietnamese flags. The flag itself is reminiscent of the communist struggle, with one singular yellow star against a deep red backdrop. The interior is mostly marble on the ground, with the exception of the meeting rooms, that have an off-yellow or off-green color, with chairs arranged around in a rectangular pattern. On the wall, you notice some Chinese inspiration with the multi-panel artwork depicting the countryside, hung in the front, anchoring the main wall. All of the furniture and old desks have been preserved, and so it looks like a meeting room, again, out of the 60s in the west. It was designed by a Vietnamese architect educated in France, and so you see the merge of eastern and western styles. The imprints were often done in a traditional Chinese style. But, the skeleton of the building was Western. It's eerily empty inside because the building hasn't been occupied since the War. There's nothing flashy about it, but that's part of the appeal. There's simplicity in everything regarding the decoration, perhaps done so that you can interpret the building how you want to. The walls, and paintings hung on it breathe the story: here, you can see where Ho Chi Minh met with president or prime minister so-and-so from this country. Over in the other room, where he would sleep. Downstairs, the bunker, built in a fashion as you would imagine any bunker. Solid concrete walls, dim fluorescent lights, and many maps of a divided Vietnam. There were just a few placards to describe each room, not much other information was left out, maybe on purpose so as to not taint your interpretation of the place. The mere existence of the Reunification Palace spoke for itself. It was like walking through a cultural, archaelogical time capsule of the War. 

And, if that wasn't moving enough, an even heavier experience was the War Remnants Museum (Bảo tàng chứng tích chiến tranh). Erected only a few months after the finalization of the Vietnam War, it showed the atrocities of "U.S. war crimes of aggression." The front had a few tanks leftover, and other regalia that is relatively apolitical on the front. Outside, an exhibition of the "tiger cages" that were used to torture political prisoners of war in South Vietnam. And, of course, graphic photographs of the result of these tortures, ranging from everything like fingernail pulling off to sitting in barbed wire cages, hunched over. If there were a cruel way to live, the prisoners have lived through it. War is an outlet of creativity for torture methods.

The main building, again, a large concrete cage with only a sign indicating that this is the War Remnants Museum, stuck with two Vietnamese flags on the top. A logo of a dove against a light blue background hangs above the title, almost ironically.

Inside the main building, there were about eight or nine halls of exhibits dedicated to various aspects of the war. Most of the tourists were Western, I wondered if that was because there are still pockmarks of the war throughout the city for the locals? Maybe, their history and understanding of the war is far richer through the stories that circulate their network. For foreigners, it's a way for them to understand but, perhaps it's also a medium for criticism. We overheard a Vietnamese-American woman telling her children the war crimes were exaggerated and that none of the information is real, I wondered: How is this child going to grow up and not know his history? Did she do that for protection, or out of belief? There was one particular exhibit that was interesting, it was snapshots from around the world that were in solidarity with the antiwar movement. And, it wasn't from countries in the West, it was from small African states and Asian states. From places that most people wouldn't even be able to pinpoint on a map. That exhibit summarized the struggle between socialism and capitalism for the past 40 years, and the global struggle for freedom.

I'm not sure how to make sense of any of it, even until now. Actually, there wasn't a profound impact on me. An impact, maybe, since you can't walk into a place like a War Museum that has memorialized recent history and not understand the origins of the pall that blanketed the entire exhibit. It's like walking into a labor camp in WWII, or the Killing Fields in Cambodia. There's fresh history there, and going is like pouring alcohol on a flesh wound. For some, they have such a visceral response it, and you can't help but empathize, but you will never understand it in a raw way -- rightly so. That's why my recounting of this is apoliticized and descriptive, that was my experience through it.

There is one point that Thorin and I discussed, and it's with this statement, "The Museum was very anti-American." And, with all my calcified pacifist bias in my upbringing in Californ-i-a, U.S., I have to disagree. But, I disagree on a different level. People will throw this argument and say that somehow this detracts from the exhibit because it is so one-sided. I think the Vietnamese government captured their cynicism towards the U.S. government. It's not so much a bias as it is an accurate representation of opinion and feeling of the Vietnamese Government during the war. Yes, you would see a picture of an American solider smiling, holding a head of a villager from the Mỹ Lai Massacre in the foreground; burning village in the background. This would be paired with a snarkie quote about how Americans "Hold these truths to be self evident, that all men were created equal" but in wartime, no, the subtext is rephrased to: "All Americans are created equal, and all our Brown Brothers from the Third World -- we're trying to save them from poverty, from socialism." Oh, the irony is there, the comedy... the tragedy buried. If you denied that the U.S. ever had an imperialist streak this would throw you into a paradigm shift. You would say it's anti-American ("That's not the America I know!") But, it's not that. It's depicting the realities of the war. It's not just an anti-American smear campaign given they were the main perpetrators. What you fail to realize is that this is a long moment in history where it did happen, and it was documented, and people still remember. Your soldiers do, their citizens do. This was a time when countrymen were pushed to carry out the Vietnamese agenda, the American one, with the civilians as undeserving, peripheral recipients of the War. These exhibits are reminding us of the atrocities of war. How could governments ever justify this? For democracy? What freedoms have they granted to us? You cannot memorialize a war in a neutral way, and so interpretations are always likely to be anti-nation depending on the authors. My disagreement comes with that surface level analysis of saying it was just anti-American, as if somehow that diluted the truth. If you saw that same picture with no idea of the War, how do you see it? It's not anti-American anymore, it's anti-that-guy. The real reason why these things are so shocking is because we could never imagine ourselves in a situation like that -- to do that to another human. We can never imagine our country doing things like that. It's so horrific is because this isn't the stuff they -- your government -- wanted you to see. It was for political reasons. And, that's because War is the last resort, it's horrific, and it's the most abnormal thing that humans have created. So, on some deep ethical basis, we oppose these tragedies. The museum wasn't anti-American. It was anti-war.

After the museum, we strolled down heading towards the Cathedral because we could have uses a bit of da Jesus in our lives. On our way, we passed by this lovely marketplace propped up by college students cooking their own food and selling some street snacks. And, in such a contrast to the War Museum, the future of Vietnam. No longer dwelling on the past. Bright, young, industrious individuals who were making a living by selling food, eating together in a food court and chatting. Like the kids from the Breakfast Club, or out of a scene of some High School Musical. Cooking food from their home cities and representing the rising middle class of Southeast Asia. We chatted with one guy who made us some spring rolls, a dish from his hometown, and made us some iced lemon tea that was super delicious. Way more productive than any of the kids I knew that age back home.. 

We did eventually make it to the church, passing by this interesting "Turtle Park" structure in the middle of the city beforehand. It looked almost like a Dolce Gabbana Spring 2017 runway, with its narrow concrete walkways hovering above the water, and some upside-looking turtle shell structure that protruded from the off-center of the circular park. Around it, a couple of kids huddled under the shade provided by this structure. Going up the one set of stairs to the top for a view, a sleeping police officer quickly gets up and resumes her duty. Caught you, girl, you slacking. And, what about the church? It's like a Chinese leading man in Hollywood, such a non-traditional sight. The French style cathedral, in the heat of Southeast Asia. My body is so used to associating churches with these cold, dark places that to see one in the heat of Southeast Asia is still slightly strange to me. But, ask a Filipino, they'll probably say that's how they only know churches. 

The best part about Saigon was some of the random signs that you would see signposted around the city. I mean, my Vietnamese is a bit rusty, I've been studying it for almost 0 months so I've only put "Beginner" on my LinkedIn for speaking Vietnam. So, the pictures that I took could really say, "Construction planned for August 5th" for all I know. But, the way these posters are everywhere in their propaganda glory is so thrilling, because it's so socialist-chic. There are these cute Vietnamese people depicted in wonderful, bright glory serving the country. Usually there's a soldier somewhere. And there are just a fuck-ton of rays coming out from the background, dove sand shit, the Vietnamese flag, as well as hammer and sickles peppered in the background. Can someone who is Vietnamese please translate this for me? I would like to know what I took a picture of. I will reward you with a pamphlet on the reunification palace and a brief biography of Ngô Đình Diệm. 

We swung back down from the north of the city down to the People's Committee Hall, then ontwards to Ben Thanh market to catch a bus to Chợ Lớn. What is that, you ask? Well, as you well know the Chinese are everywhere in Southeast Asia, and so this is the wonderful Chinatown of Ho Chi Minh City. We're making a habit of trying to go to every Chinatown in the freaking world. It's great to see how the Chinese have made their home in these different cities.

HCMC is a different story by day, and by night. Whereas the night before, the streets were filled with people bustling about on hoverboards (can we really call them hoverboards..?) as well as on skateboards and electric scooters, by daytime, the pedestrianized street was quiet. And, oddly, spotless in terms of cleanliness. It was a completely different place by daytime, nothing but a nice breeze and a blue sky, and Uncle Ho still waving at you in his glamor. We used this as an opportunity to take some pictures before heading into Chợ Lớn. As an aside, Vietnamese is a tonal language so all of these accents have some sort of pronunciation to do (Like I said, I'm rusty..). So, when we asked how to get to cholón in a Spanish accent, people were dumbfounded as to where we were trying to go. Chinatown was a better shot than cholón, which almost sounds like some shot or drink you did in college because everyone was too poor to buy decent stuff. A shot of cholón, please, sounds delicious. 

Before the French came, Vietnamese was Sinocized into the Chinese script. So, there will be Chinese characters all over the shops in Chinatown with their corresponding Romanized name above it. However, I'm not entirely sure if the translation of these goes via the Cantonese or standard Mandarin dialect. Either way, I find it fascinating that there is this odd link between Chinese characters and Vietnamese language. In fact, often on the street when we heard people speaking Vietnamese, it would strike me as oddly Cantonese at times. Perhaps it's the tonality or the pronunciation of words that is similar. There are still lovely preserved pagodas in the old district and many of them are all written in Chinese characters. They're pretty standard. Actually, because I'm not versed in the arts of Buddhism, it's really difficult to get anything more out of these buildings than the buildings themselves. They all look quite similar on the inside, with the smell of incense burning inside, and usually a crowd of tourists gawking and standing idly alongside the worshipers. Perhaps I should read some texts on contemporary Buddhist thought in order to understand these structures a bit more. Anyway, so we just go in and look at the intricate gold, try to make out some Chinese characters, then go to the next one.

There also are a few markets scattered around Chinatown, and we stop by Kim Bien Market in order to look for a plug converter. Just as a frame of reference, the people in Ben Thanh tried to sell us a converter for 180,000 Vietnamese Dong (VND), which equals to about 11 SGD for a converter. And, these things are plastic and cheap as chips, so you can maybe bargain down to a price of 70,000. However, this market, tucked away in the tiniest of stalls, nudged between a bra shop and a hat shop was this old man selling converters, warpped 6 together in one plastic sheet. I ask him how much for one, and he says 10,000 VND. This is what happens with tourist areas usually in S.E. Asia, where the price won't be totally unreasonable (11 SGD for a converter isn't bad..), but, there are still things priced more at a local rate, you just have to travel further out to find it. This thieves-market style shopping is super fun. Oh, and there's always great food at the markets too, so Thorin and I picked up another Banh Mi, and Banh Flan, and then some potato cake, and bounced.

As it goes also in S.E. Asia, usually there is a lot of traffic and congestion due to the sheer amount of people and automobiles and scooters on the road. It's pretty common to find little havens of relaxation and shade via the form of a park. Although it may only be 100m wide and probably 500 meters deep, surrounded by an island of gas pollution, they're oddly comforting places to just sit and relax in a busy city. This particular park we stopped in had a nice little fountain in the middle with Dragons coming out of it. And, as it goes with these Chinese-style gardens, there was a pagoda marking the entrance. As a protip, too, on a map, parks are often easy to find so this can be a good geomarking point. And, a good picture opportunity if you find the right park. Strolling aroud a bit further, we relax at a café and endulge in their Vietnamese iced coffee. Still tastes damn good one -- shiok!! 

Heading back to the main party street, we decide to just go out for some street food. The key here, for two people, is to share dishes. Some people will look at you weirdly, saying, what? How can you share a bowl of Pho? Well, that's what you gotta do if you're only there for a limited amount of time and only have one stomach. So, we hop from one stall to the next, trying their cheeses, their noodles, their soups, and their rice dishes. The verdict is that they're all bomb as fuck and you should go to Vietnam to have as much street food as possible. Such rich flavors and fresh meat, cooked right before your eyes out of these little carts. Again, Southeast Asia just does food well.

The next day was all pagoda tracking. There were some scattered in the north of the city that had some historical influence, and some back in Chinatown that we didn't get to see, so we quickly went to go see them before we had to go. Topped up on some Banh Mi in the morn and then walked towards one in the north. First off was Chùa Xá Lợi, a site of a series of raids and vandalism during the war period. Of course, the only thing left there now was the faith and some aunties selling some local kueh-style desserts on the outside. Delicious as usual, and it feels like you're contributing to a good cause (You is welcome, Buddha). Inside were preparations for this massive feast of about 150 people that looked like was about to take place. Then, from there, we took a bus back from Ben Thanh after walking all the way back, heading towards Chinatown. Visiting the Quan Âm and Thiên Hậu temples, we just walked around and took a look at some of the Buddha statues, with the bustle of the outside city not far off. 

On the way back, we get this huge stroke of luck and the #1 Bus comes to pick us up. I look behind and find out that the bus that needs to take us to the airport is trailing behind us as we approach the bus station, so we hop out of Bus 1 and board Bus 152 all the way to the airport. But, a slight error in our travels, we forget to top up with another Banh Mi and coffee on the way back for lunch. Turns out, we end up paying 5 USD for a bowl of Pho as well as three for a croissant. I think those 8 U.S. dollars could have fed us for another day in this beautiful city.

Oh well, I got a multiple entry visa. We'll be back very soon. Our adventures in a video format below:

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