Feb. 19-23 - Saigon and Ha Long Bay

Saturday, Feb. 19th – Ho Chi Minh City
An early start to our day as we headed to our semi-air conditioned bus on a truly hot and humid day here in Viet Nam. Our tour was nicely called “Good Morning Viet Nam” and so while the war is history here, and is now called “The American War”, many Americans wanted to see the sites associated with the war.
Our guide was Kwok and as a 35 year old married to a British woman, these tours are interesting but he was too young to remember any of the war. We drove past the empty lot which once contained the American Embassy, and headed to the National War Museum. It has a distinct slant to its portrayal of the war, but in hindsight it was quite accurate as to America’s part in this war. The pictures were graphic, the rhetoric strong, and we left after fifty minutes to re-board the bus…working our way through the many street vendors who had ‘treasures’ galore. I became the proud owner of a brilliant red and royal blue “silk” robe, which delighted me. The bargaining took it from $20.00 to $8.00. I was pleased with the price. I’m sure it could have been less, but when you think of what it’s worth to you, and how much these people have to work to make any money, I tend to stop when I am satisfied and feel I’m getting value for my money. After you think of what we paid for the cruise, and the tour, arguing over a dollar or two seems downright petty.
We now took a long bus ride through the city and its suburbs…past Gen. Westmoreland’s former headquarters…past the former Ton Son Nut Air Base…through the jungle along the Saigon River that had been heavily “carpet-bombed “by B-52’s (now rubber plantations)…to our luncheon in an outdoor garden restaurant, where we sat in little gazebos which held eight patrons to a table. Sitting by a swift running stream we dined on wonderful Vietnamese food & beer, until we were stuffed. Then back to the bus for our main event – the Cu Chi Tunnels near the village of Cu Chi. These are tunnels built during the time of the French occupation, but reused to good purpose during the time when America was carpet bombing this area. The tunnels ran throughout the country, and at any one time over 16,000 Viet Cong lived in them.

 They were complete communities with seamstresses, kitchens, hospitals, munitions makers, sandal makers and a headquarters. There were three tiers to the tunnels and it allowed the people to go and remain underground to avoid being killed. The intricacies of how to cook without revealing any smoke; how to throw off the dogs by covering areas near the entrances with American shampoo and soup smells; how to make sandals out of old tires and how to re-make new mines & anti-tank weapons from American dud bombs & artillery rounds, all were demonstrated. To ensure that ‘the enemy’ couldn’t come down any of the tunnels, there were ’fake’ entrances which led nowhere, and which were booby-trapped with all manner of truly horrifying, primitive torture weapons…all of which were on graphic display. The tunnel entrances are very tiny, to match the size of your average Vietnamese. These were entirely too tiny for us well-fed, substantial Caucasians. So to allow tourists to have the experience of crawling through the tunnels, a few had been ‘widened’ to meet the more robust stature of the tourists. We had the opportunity to enter a tunnel and to crawl in a duck walk to another entry point. The closest was 10 meters, the furthest was 140 meters. With my bum knee, I chose to watch other braver souls. One gentleman, whom one might call very substantial, got himself pretty well stuck and came out very dirty, with bruises on legs and hands, as he forced his way out.
This tunnel area was hidden amidst what has become a new forest. During the war it was pretty much barren with bomb craters everywhere, but it is now a tourist destination , where the videos at the beginning of the tour once more describe the horrors of the “American War” and the heroism of the Viet Cong.

Thoroughly hot, sticky, and dusty, we gratefully headed back to the bus after two hours, for our ride back to the ship in afternoon rush hour. Unlike any rush hour I’ve ever seen, this one consisted of swarms of motorcyclists with nerves of steel. It was like swarms of mosquitoes at every intersection. Children sat in front of their parents totally oblivious to the fact that life could be very short. Why there aren’t more accidents, I don’t know. Four to Six MILLION cycles in the city, and that’s only a rough guess. Cars are too expensive in this country and so, on these cycles can be carried everything but the kitchen sink. In total awe, I kept snapping pictures out of the bus window. (For those of us who can’t drive a damn scooter, I was in awe).
Our last stop was the “Reunification Palace” of the South Vietnamese leaders who remained for two years, after the departure of the Americans, until in 1975 when the North Viet Nam forces claimed the whole of the country. Vietnam is run by a unified communist party, but the government has become openly sympathetic to capitalism, freedom of religion and private ownership. It is distinctly a one-party system, but there are enough young people to counter the old-style communism exemplified by Ho Chi Minh. The harbor where we are berthed is evidence enough of the slowly growing economy. Rice is the primary export here and dozens of sky scrapers dot the city sky line. The Rex, Continental, and Caravelle Hotels still thrive, but now house businessmen rather than journalists, and you sense that this country has moved on. We kept remarking that if an American soldier returned, he hardly would recognize the city.
Sunday, February 20th – Saigon
With no tours to drive us out early, after breakfast we took the shuttle bus to the Rex Hotel, and wandered the hot and steamy streets looking at the backstreet shops to see what ‘bargains’ we might scarf up. A few local quirks…pedestrians do not have the right-of-way…most major intersections do not have traffic signals, never mind Walk/Don’t Walk. To cross (in a striped crosswalk), you look for a gap in the racing cars, buses and mopeds…and run for your life. We were with 80-yr-old Doris, and she ran like a gazelle. We were all inspired by fear! It definitely gets the adrenaline going. Having concluded that there were no bargains we needed, we stopped at the Lion Brew Pub, near the Caravelle, for a 500mm schooner of beer before returning to the ship. The heat and humidity here can be almost debilitating, and does not leave one enthusiastic to wander. Our next port is Da Nang, which we’re hoping will be a wee bit cooler, but first we have a leisurely day at sea to relax, read and prepare for the next port.
Monday, Feruary 21 – At SeaLittle to report as we slowly sail to the port of Da Nang in the middle of the country. Lecturers on board inform us about what we will see upon arrival, and how to take the correct type of photographs of the memories we want to carry home. Bob and I spent the day reading on our Kindles, staring at the water and enjoying tea & sandwiches in the late afternoon, drinks in the Martini Bar with our friend Doris, and dinner in the Grand Dining room.

Tuesday February 22 – Da Nang
An early morning start as we board Bus Number 3 (of 11) going to Imperial Hue. Our Vietnamese guide is named Doh. The port where we are docked is in the midst of construction and seems to be located between nowhere and nowhere. Doh informed us that in a few years it will be the largest deep-water port in central Viet Nam. The city of Hue, located on the Perfume River about sixty-five kilometers from our pier, was originally the home of many of the early emperors of Viet Nam and while it now is mostly ruins, we thought we might be able to fill our heads with more historical data about this country. Our knowledge to this point, such as it was, had been focused on the “American war” and the towns we bombed or tried to occupy. During the war, Hue was occupied by the Marines, and it is remembered, by us, as the place where they were attacked in the Citadel during the 1968 “Tet Offensive” - the very place which we, now 35+ years later would be visiting as a tourist site, with only a passing mention of the 400 Marines who died here.
Our bus ride was ninety minutes through small villages which were lovely if poor. I was snapping pictures as fast as I could as we drove past brilliant green rice paddies, lagoons where fishing for oysters and shrimp occur, and small vegetable plots.

 

The government-owned farm land was interspersed with shops lined along the road where the shop faced the road while the back was the living quarters of the shop keeper. Because of the climate, life is lived outdoors and everything is on display from laundry, to women washing dishes, men smoking while repairing tires, building caskets, walking along chatting on their cell phones, soldering metal, or sitting with a coffee outside a small ‘café’. There were plenty of mongrel dogs which seemed to be associated’ with houses, but I couldn’t tell whether they were wild or pets; the water buffalo were primarily in the rice fields where they are used as beasts of burden (and never eaten), while chickens and goats were everywhere. Bicycles & Mopeds were the major mode of transportation, with Japanese scooters favored over Chinese which are deigned to be inferior, if cheaper. The women, many in their conical hats were busy shopping, hauling goods or watching children. While the children either were in school or in front yards following their parents around as they worked. All of life was there for us to observe as we drove slowly through the villages. It was made clear to us by our guide that the role of a woman is to prepare meals for the family, keep the home orderly and to stay home at night watching Korean TV, where they learn hints and tips about housekeeping. The men on the other hand work in the fields or in their shops during the day, and after dinner go out for beer with the boys. As our guide made quite equally clear the fate of the men is to be hen-pecked, while a good woman’s quality includes four key elements: Hard working; of good conduct; refined speech; and the last quality - beauty. I kept thinking about my favorite Vietnamese woman in San Francisco, a woman named Wing, and I wondered how life was for her in Viet Nam prior to her escape at the end of the war…she seems to be the antithesis of the stay-at-home woman now.
Doh, as a good guide, was a very supportive cheer leader of his country. He had joined the Communist party ; was quite clear that only in the last twenty-five years, since economic reforms have been in place, have the local small business men been successful; but was equally clear that the rich were getting richer, and the poor were getting poorer, when the annual income could be as little as $400.00 dollars. He thought that the one party system was just fine and that their form of Communism worked very well. The Chinese, on the other hand are firmly disliked for their oppressive controls on their citizenry.
Once we arrived in Hue, our first stop was a Happy Room where we all went to ‘sing a song’. The next stop was the Imperial Forbidden City. This entire area was bombed to smithereens during the war, but is slowly being restored as best they can. We learned the history of the emperor, his many concubines and mandarins who all lived within the walls of this city, and we admired the restoration work being done where buildings once built in wood are being reconstructed using a good deal of cement which is more durable in this very moist climate.
Once we ran the gauntlet of vendors who were sure we needed fans, lacquer boxes and jewelry, we headed to the Thien Mu Pagoda which is still in use by monks who live there. As in India we saw the sign that is very similar to a swastika but has a wholly different symbolism in the Buddhist faith. We had seen on the road to Hue, a Buddhist monk whose goal is to walk the entire length of Viet Nam from north to south on Highway One…’kowtowing’ every few feet on orange blankets which were being placed in front of him and then removed and advanced by his followers such that as he moved forward he was constantly walking or kneeling on the blankets. Wherever he stops along his route he is greeted and fed by the faithful who follow him for awhile on his journey. Once he reaches the southernmost point, he plans to immolate himself! We never got the rationale behind this, but it allowed our guide to inform us that all religions are tolerated now in Viet Nam.
And now on a lighter note…Lunch was a huge success, served at a local Hue hotel where we were greeted outside by four large dragon dancers, and inside by Viet musicians playing the unique music of this country. Our buffet was a medley of Viet dishes, one better than the next. Our plates seemed to be too small, so we simply refilled them numerous times. Especially good were individually made crispy pancakes, stuffed with shrimp & pork, and coated in a peanut sauce. Then, off we went to the last two sites: the tomb of Tu Duc, an emperor who served for thirty five years, and who was buried somewhere on the grounds of this area, but no one is clear where. The tomb exists, but as prior explorers discovered, there was no body beneath the tomb. At this point I had had a few too many stone stairs, so I camped by a small lake while the rest of our bus tour got the data, I sat with a lovely eighty-one year old gentleman from Sweden who has been everywhere, and while he moves a bit slower doesn’t want to miss any of this tour.
With a last stop for shopping at a stall making and selling conical hats and incense, we drove back to the ship past evening shopping areas, more goats, water buffalo, bicycles and scooters, arriving back at the ship in late afternoon.
My knowledge of Viet history was nil before we arrived, and it’s now a bit more than nil.

I’ve been writing this up in the Horizon Lounge overlooking the water as we sail past Haiphong, and enter Ha Long Bay… and all around there are discussions about grandchildren, hair styles, where people live and where people have been on prior cruises. It’s a gentle murmur behind me as I try to write this blog.