Our past 5 days have been intense and wonderful. We arrived in Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) during the Tet, or New Year celebration, and I can't think of a better time to visit. The entire city was decorated with festive lights, flags, and yellow and orange flowers. Just as we buy Christmas trees, Vietnamese buy flowering or Mandarin orange trees in big pots to decorate their homes. I loved seeing people carrying large bushes and trees on their scooters through mind-blowing traffic.
Speaking of mind-blowing traffic, you have never lived until you've crossed the street in HCMC. It's like an extreme sport. Imagine thousands of cars and scooters, with no traffic lights, and at each intersection, they are all barreling down on you as you try to reach the other side of the street. The trick is never to stop moving. As long as you are walking, the traffic will adjust and move around you in a fluid motion. But if you panic and freeze, you're mincemeat. It's like a choreographed dance that every Vietnamese knows, and somehow it works smoothly. We drove about 8 hours in a two-day period throughout the country, and the driver stopped the car maybe 3 times. We only saw one accident where a motorcyclist was down. Not surprisingly, Charlie adapted to the traffic the best, and he got so good at crossing streets, we all waited until he was ready, then followed him.
Our first day in Vietnam was inauspicious. We arrived around noon, each carrying a heavy backpack with all our belongings for the next six days. We wandered around in the heat of the day, visiting markets and generally getting sweaty and irritable. In order to get out of the sun, we visited the Ho Chi Minh City Museum, located in an old French colonial building with art deco floors and large open windows. It was hot inside, but cooler than outside. This museum could only be described as pathetic. There were a few, poorly arranged exhibits which we dutifully visited. After a half and hour, Charlie said, "Did we pay to see this?" I said, "Yes, $1 per person." Sydney paused and said, "They should pay us."
That evening we flew to Cambodia arriving into Siem Reap around 10:00 p.m. We made the dreaded mistake of getting out of line to fill out our visa-on-arrival forms, and by the time we finally had our visas, we were basically shutting down the airport. Fortunately, our dear friend, Linly, had arranged for a driver to pick us up and take us to our hotel, a lovely oasis called Mother Home Boutique. They greeted us with cold, moist, lemongrass and eucalyptus scented cloths, a refreshing welcome after a long travel day.
The next morning, after a delicious breakfast of fried rice, eggs, pancakes, fresh fruit, and mashed potatoes (who knew?), our trusty driver, Mr. Chat, came with his tuk tuk to pick us up. A tuk tuk is a motorcycle or moped attached to a tiny, covered vehicle which seats 4-5 people. We loved being in the open air and zipping along on the tuk tuk. We loved even more where Mr. Chat took us -- the ruins of Angkor Wat.
Our first day in Vietnam was inauspicious. We arrived around noon, each carrying a heavy backpack with all our belongings for the next six days. We wandered around in the heat of the day, visiting markets and generally getting sweaty and irritable. In order to get out of the sun, we visited the Ho Chi Minh City Museum, located in an old French colonial building with art deco floors and large open windows. It was hot inside, but cooler than outside. This museum could only be described as pathetic. There were a few, poorly arranged exhibits which we dutifully visited. After a half and hour, Charlie said, "Did we pay to see this?" I said, "Yes, $1 per person." Sydney paused and said, "They should pay us."
That evening we flew to Cambodia arriving into Siem Reap around 10:00 p.m. We made the dreaded mistake of getting out of line to fill out our visa-on-arrival forms, and by the time we finally had our visas, we were basically shutting down the airport. Fortunately, our dear friend, Linly, had arranged for a driver to pick us up and take us to our hotel, a lovely oasis called Mother Home Boutique. They greeted us with cold, moist, lemongrass and eucalyptus scented cloths, a refreshing welcome after a long travel day.
The next morning, after a delicious breakfast of fried rice, eggs, pancakes, fresh fruit, and mashed potatoes (who knew?), our trusty driver, Mr. Chat, came with his tuk tuk to pick us up. A tuk tuk is a motorcycle or moped attached to a tiny, covered vehicle which seats 4-5 people. We loved being in the open air and zipping along on the tuk tuk. We loved even more where Mr. Chat took us -- the ruins of Angkor Wat.
The Angkor Wat park is a mammoth complex of temples built over a 20 km square area approximately 1300 years ago. I didn't expect to be so overwhelmed by their grandeur and beauty. It truly is a sight to behold. We visited several of the temples, but there are many, many more that we missed. Our favorite was Ta Prohm, which was left in the original condition in which it was found. With giant tree roots slowly taking over the stone structures, it looks like something out of a movie scene. And, in fact, it was... in Tomb Raider with Angelina Jolie. We also saw many young Buddhist monks in their bright orange robes, walking through the temples. My favorite sight was watching them take selfies with their cell phones.
Our friend, Linly, who works with a wonderful NGO called Food for the Hungry, took us to a fabulous restaurant with traditional Cambodian dancing. We enjoyed sticky rice cakes, stir fried meat and vegetables, spring rolls, noodle dishes, and to the children's delight, chicken wings and french fries. Best of all, we got to hear from Linly and about 10 of her friends about life in Cambodia. After dinner, we wandered around the Night Market in Siem Reap. The kids each bought a hammock for $3. We realized we needed underwear for Sydney, so we asked how much that was, and a woman said, "$3." Sydney said, "$3! I could buy a hammock for that!" We loved Siem Reap and wished we had more time in that quaint, pretty town.
At lunch the next day, we were approached by a man who had lost both his arms when he stepped on a landmine 20 years ago. He showed us the scars on his torso. We were reminded of Cambodia's recent, tragic past when the Khmer Rouge Communists attacked in 1975, forcing the people out of the cities and into the countryside, where they attempted to create an "agrarian utopia." Instead, they starved, tortured, and massacred one third of their own people and destroyed much of the country, leaving painful memories that linger today. Our tuk tuk driver lost three family members. "I cannot speak about it, or else the tears will come," he said, as he traced lines on his face with his index fingers. My heart broke as I realized that almost all of the people in Cambodia today who are my age or older have endured unspeakable horrors.
While eating lunch in Siem Reap, we sat next to a group of Americans who had just finished a cooking class and were enjoying the fruits of their labor. During dessert, one guy held up his plate of sticky rice cake and announced, "I'm auctioning off my sticky rice cake, who wants it?" Charlie perked up and said, "Mom, ask him if we can have his dessert." I said, "Charlie, he's offering it to people at his table." He said, "I know, but they don't want it. Just ask." Well, you do weird things when you're on vacation, so I said, "Excuse me. Do you have any of that sticky rice cake left over? My son would love to try a bite." They said, "Sure!" and began to send over plate after plate of sticky rice cake. As we were all enjoying it, we began to talk, and they asked what we were doing in Cambodia. When I mentioned Semester at Sea, one girl said, "I went on SAS in 2006!" In fact, as she told us some stories from her time on the ship, she actually began to cry. It was an incredible moment, and one that wouldn't have happened it I hadn't asked for their sticky rice cake. I did tell them at the end though, "I just want you to know that this is the first time in my life that I have ever asked a stranger for food off their plate!"
After two days in Cambodia, we returned to Vietnam, where one of the most surprising events of the trip occurred. Four years ago, we had a wonderful Vietnamese couchsurfer named Hien Vu visit us for about three days in Arlington. Today, Hien works for the United Nations in Nairobi, Kenya. Well, about two weeks ago, when we were still in Hong Kong, Hien noticed on my blog that we were coming to Vietnam. She too was flying to Vietnam to celebrate Tet with her family. But she was going to Hanoi, a two-hour flight north of HCMC. After a flurry of emails, Hien decided to come visit us in HCMC and spend two days seeing her country with us. She ended up flying from Nairobi to Addis Ababa to Bangkok to Hanoi to HCMC in a two-day period! When we reunited, it felt like a dream. Hien is a delightful, warm, gracious person who is also incredibly smart and fascinating. She was the best host we could ever hope for in Vietnam.
Hien's friend, Hung Vu, is an excellent tour guide who organized two days of experiences for us in Vietnam. Hien also brought her 12-year-old nepherw, Minh, who became a great friend to my kids and introduced them to squid chips, among other things! So, my family, Hien, Hung, and Minh set off in a cool, air-conditioned bus for the Mekong Delta -- a breezy, palm-tree laden region along the seven different branches of the Mekong River. It felt like the Florida Keys to me. We drove nearly four hours to get there, then took a boat on the river for about an hour at sunset to an island where we found our homestay. Here, a family hosts people in open air, thatched roof longhouses built on stilts over large ponds, filled with jumping fish. It was incredible. That evening while under the palm trees, we helped the mother of the house, an elegant Vietnamese woman, roll and fry pork-filled spring rolls in rice paper. Then she served us an incredible dinner on the porch -- fish from the Mekong River, soup with pumpkin slices in it, rice, sauteed baby kale, caramel pork in a clay pot, fresh fruit (I don't know what it was), and a light, crispy rice paper dessert.
We were not alone. While we ate, a large river rat scurried above our heads on the bamboo beam. A lizard elicited screams from the kids, and the mother of the house came running. After dinner, the boys discovered a good-sized spider which quickly darted under their mattress, giving them lots of think about when they went to bed! We all retired early and tucked in our mosquito nets with great precision, then turned out the lights and listened to the night sounds all around us. Believe it or not, we all slept well, at least until the roosters started crowing around 2:30 a.m.! Breakfast the next morning was fresh eggs sunny side up, French baguettes with homemade jam, and fresh apple milk fruit picked before our eyes. The whole experience was breathtakingly unique, beautiful, and totally fun.
The Mekong Delta is famous for its floating markets. Boats of all shapes and sizes navigate the grey, milky waters loaded with all manner of produce for sale -- watermelons, eggplants, pineapples, coconuts, cabbage -- you name it, it's sold on the river. Old women pilot tiny wooden skiffs with fresh eggs from their homes. Whole families work and live on the boats, tossing watermelons from one boat to another. I loved watching the "passing of the melon." And all this happens while cruising along the river -- a friendly, floating shopping mall. Truly this was one of our favorite sights.
One other cool stop on the Mekong River was a rice noodle making place. I can't exactly call it a factory. It consisted of people working outside, burning rice chaff to fuel a fire, to cook a paste of rice and water like a crepe. Then they dried the "crepes" on woven reeds in the sun. These created round sheets of rice paper which could either be cut into strips to make noodles or left whole to be used as wraps for spring rolls or other dishes. At the noodle place, they also inexplicably had many caged animals including a mina bird, guinea pigs, geckos, and my personal favorite, a chipmunk that most certainly had lost its mind and did perpetual back flips the entire time we were there.
Before returning to HCMC, we drove to the Cu Chi tunnels. These were a series of tunnels nearly 125 miles long, dug by Communist sympathizers (Viet Cong) who lived in the South. As we drove there, I asked Hien's 12-year-old nephew if he had ever been there. He said, "No. But I know they're the place where you attacked us, and we fought back." I realized then how differently our two sides view the war. That was confirmed when I watched the Cu Chi tunnels movie, produced during the war, which asserted: "The Americans came in like a band of fiery devils, intent on brutally killing our innocent women and babies." Obviously, that was not our intent, but the winners write the history books, and that's how history is being written in Vietnam today.
I think I had never fully appreciated how much the Vietnamese resented and really hated the French, who occupied their country for so long. Once Ho Chi Minh threw off the French and their colonial power, he became their revered hero. That he was a Communist was probably irrelevant to most people; he was like a savior to them. Once free, they had no intention of ever being colonized again. Therefore, it seems they viewed America coming "to protect the South from Communism" as a thinly-veiled threat to their newfound independence and sovereignty. Hence, the passion, resolve, and resulting ingenuity they brought to the battlefield.
Contrast their fervor with ours. Our soldiers were being drafted (many against their will) and sent by an increasingly ambivalent government and hostile populous, into punishing and terrifying conditions in the jungle. The labyrinthine Cu Chi tunnels -- completely hidden under the leaf-covered forest floor and filled with macabre traps to kill and maim the Americans -- only added to the terror inflicted by the Vietnamese on the U.S. soldiers. The Americans couldn't figure out where the enemy was coming from. As one remarked, "We were being shot at by Viet Cong from everywhere, but we never saw them." These Communist sympathizers were men, women, and children fighting without uniforms in the jungles. It's no wonder the American troops faced horrible choices in conducting the war.
After spending time at Cu Chi and in the war museum in HCMC, I was overwhelmed and saddened. The war -- which I believe was fought with good intentions by our government, and most certainly by the vast majority of our brave and faithful soldiers -- incurred great costs on both sides. Our guide, Hung, lived in Hanoi during the war, and he told us of seeing U.S. planes flying overhead and running for cover. He had to evacuate the city when he was nine years old, living away from his parents in the countryside for a year. Sharing the American perspective, Kerry told how his uncle was shot and killed in Vietnam, leaving behind two boys and his widow. Even our small group of Americans and Vietnamese had personal painful stories from the war.
Ultimately, we all know the Vietnam War failed to prevent Communism from spreading to the South. The North took over the entire country; Saigon was renamed Ho Chi Minh City; and today the hammer and sickle flag of the Communist Party flies everywhere. Of course, the museums leave out any discussion of the brutal treatment the North Vietnamese inflicted on the South after the U.S. pulled out. Many nationals tried to leave the country, but only a small percentage made it. Those who allied with the South during the war were punished, imprisoned, and many executed.
Obviously we can debate forever whether it made sense to enter this war, but there is no denying the horrific human cost on both sides. The pain is still there, but the country seems to be on the move now. Kerry noted that Vietnam seems about 15 years behind China in its move to a market economy.
The Mekong Delta is famous for its floating markets. Boats of all shapes and sizes navigate the grey, milky waters loaded with all manner of produce for sale -- watermelons, eggplants, pineapples, coconuts, cabbage -- you name it, it's sold on the river. Old women pilot tiny wooden skiffs with fresh eggs from their homes. Whole families work and live on the boats, tossing watermelons from one boat to another. I loved watching the "passing of the melon." And all this happens while cruising along the river -- a friendly, floating shopping mall. Truly this was one of our favorite sights.
One other cool stop on the Mekong River was a rice noodle making place. I can't exactly call it a factory. It consisted of people working outside, burning rice chaff to fuel a fire, to cook a paste of rice and water like a crepe. Then they dried the "crepes" on woven reeds in the sun. These created round sheets of rice paper which could either be cut into strips to make noodles or left whole to be used as wraps for spring rolls or other dishes. At the noodle place, they also inexplicably had many caged animals including a mina bird, guinea pigs, geckos, and my personal favorite, a chipmunk that most certainly had lost its mind and did perpetual back flips the entire time we were there.
Before returning to HCMC, we drove to the Cu Chi tunnels. These were a series of tunnels nearly 125 miles long, dug by Communist sympathizers (Viet Cong) who lived in the South. As we drove there, I asked Hien's 12-year-old nephew if he had ever been there. He said, "No. But I know they're the place where you attacked us, and we fought back." I realized then how differently our two sides view the war. That was confirmed when I watched the Cu Chi tunnels movie, produced during the war, which asserted: "The Americans came in like a band of fiery devils, intent on brutally killing our innocent women and babies." Obviously, that was not our intent, but the winners write the history books, and that's how history is being written in Vietnam today.
I think I had never fully appreciated how much the Vietnamese resented and really hated the French, who occupied their country for so long. Once Ho Chi Minh threw off the French and their colonial power, he became their revered hero. That he was a Communist was probably irrelevant to most people; he was like a savior to them. Once free, they had no intention of ever being colonized again. Therefore, it seems they viewed America coming "to protect the South from Communism" as a thinly-veiled threat to their newfound independence and sovereignty. Hence, the passion, resolve, and resulting ingenuity they brought to the battlefield.
Contrast their fervor with ours. Our soldiers were being drafted (many against their will) and sent by an increasingly ambivalent government and hostile populous, into punishing and terrifying conditions in the jungle. The labyrinthine Cu Chi tunnels -- completely hidden under the leaf-covered forest floor and filled with macabre traps to kill and maim the Americans -- only added to the terror inflicted by the Vietnamese on the U.S. soldiers. The Americans couldn't figure out where the enemy was coming from. As one remarked, "We were being shot at by Viet Cong from everywhere, but we never saw them." These Communist sympathizers were men, women, and children fighting without uniforms in the jungles. It's no wonder the American troops faced horrible choices in conducting the war.
After spending time at Cu Chi and in the war museum in HCMC, I was overwhelmed and saddened. The war -- which I believe was fought with good intentions by our government, and most certainly by the vast majority of our brave and faithful soldiers -- incurred great costs on both sides. Our guide, Hung, lived in Hanoi during the war, and he told us of seeing U.S. planes flying overhead and running for cover. He had to evacuate the city when he was nine years old, living away from his parents in the countryside for a year. Sharing the American perspective, Kerry told how his uncle was shot and killed in Vietnam, leaving behind two boys and his widow. Even our small group of Americans and Vietnamese had personal painful stories from the war.
Ultimately, we all know the Vietnam War failed to prevent Communism from spreading to the South. The North took over the entire country; Saigon was renamed Ho Chi Minh City; and today the hammer and sickle flag of the Communist Party flies everywhere. Of course, the museums leave out any discussion of the brutal treatment the North Vietnamese inflicted on the South after the U.S. pulled out. Many nationals tried to leave the country, but only a small percentage made it. Those who allied with the South during the war were punished, imprisoned, and many executed.
Obviously we can debate forever whether it made sense to enter this war, but there is no denying the horrific human cost on both sides. The pain is still there, but the country seems to be on the move now. Kerry noted that Vietnam seems about 15 years behind China in its move to a market economy.
Overall, I didn't get enough of Vietnam and Cambodia. I already want to come back. These are two beautiful countries, filled with warm people who welcomed us heartily. We only needed more time to explore and enjoy such special places. Next time!
PS. We are feeling better! Thank you for the prayers.
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