Saigon and Beyond

Vietnam’s largest city is now officially known as Ho Chi Minh City (or HCMC for short). But in my mind, it will always be Saigon, a name that immediately conjures up images of young American soldiers and the feeling of sensuous tropical heat. 

The Saigon that I found, however, wasn’t quite what I expected. It actually bore a certain resemblance to today’s New York City – except for the fact that February temperatures hovered in the mid- to upper-80s. Like New York City, Saigon has an abundance of modern skyscrapers, constant noise, less than pristine air quality, and a very high cost of living. Additionally, it has a driving pulse, round-the-clock energy, and an edgy youthfulness. 

A view of Saigon from my hotel room

Nighttime in Saigon, around the corner from my hotel

Until 1975, Saigon was the capital of South Vietnam. Since the Communist takeover, the city’s population has grown from 1 million to 13 million people. According to An, it is the economic, financial and educational center of the country. With the end of the U.S. embargo in 1995, international corporations, beginning with Coca Cola, opened offices in the city. Today you’ll find Nike, major banks, insurance companies, airlines and many familiar corporate names in downtown Saigon’s high-rise buildings. And if you’re seeking coffee of the non-weasel variety, just stop in to one of the many Starbuck’s. 

Even before arriving in Vietnam, I’d heard horror stories about Saigon’s traffic. Cars and 5.5 million motorbikes clog the roads throughout the sprawling city. In my travels, I’d seen plenty of bad traffic conditions, but I’d never before had to dodge motorbikes that sped down the sidewalks, weaving their way through crowds of pedestrians. 

That’s not to say that I didn’t enjoy exploring Saigon on foot. Our hotel, well located in District 1, was around the corner from a lovely park and the Independence Palace (formerly used by the South Vietnamese president). It was also within easy walking distance of some of the city’s major sights. We admired the beautiful architecture of the Central Post Office, designed by Charles Eiffel in the late 19^thcentury. Right across the street, and also dating from the French colonial era, was the Notre Dame Basilica.  

Saigon's Central Post Office

Notre Dame Basilica 

Behind the cathedral, we stumbled upon a pleasant surprise – the pedestrians-only “book street,” a shady oasis of calm lined with bookstores and coffee shops.  

Book Street

I braved the traffic and the afternoon heat to check out the vast Ben Thanh Market – a never-ending maze of vendors selling everything imaginable. I really wasn’t planning to do any major shopping, but Saigon was our last stop in Vietnam, and I had some local currency that I wanted to use up. 

At dusk one day, we walked to the pedestrian promenade that runs from City Hall to the Saigon River. A statue of Uncle Ho overlooks the promenade. I wonder what he thinks as he looks out at the exclusive designer shops, luxury hotels, and multinational corporate offices. The promenade starts to fill with people as the sun goes down. Displays of colored lights decorate the skyscrapers, trees, and sidewalks, creating a festive atmosphere. And notice the Saigon Opera House – it would be perfectly at home in any European city. 

Ho Chi Minh at the beginning of the pedestrian promenade

Opera House

While we were in Saigon, we had lunch at the bustling Saigon Pho Hung noodle house. We walked past long tables crowded with locals slurping their soup and climbed up to a relatively quiet dining area where fans whirred in a futile attempt to provide relief from the midday heat and humidity. (Sometimes authenticity requires a measure of discomfort.) An brought us to this popular restaurant to teach us pho etiquette, i.e. the proper way to construct and eat a bowl of the legendary noodle soup. First of all, he reminded us that it takes 8 to 10 hours to prepare the broth, which is seasoned with grilled cinnamon bark, star anise, coriander seeds, ginger, cardamom and ginseng. Just prior to serving, the soup is ladled into bowls and noodles are added. 

I was starving by the time servers placed bowls of pho in front of each of us. They also set out platters of fresh bean sprouts and herbs, including basil, sawmint and cilantro, to garnish broth. We were all a little hesitant at first to add the fresh vegetables, but An reassured us that this restaurant was on his unofficial “safe” list. The next step was to embellish the pho with a variety of sauces as personal taste dictated. I added fish sauce and hoisin but skipped the sriracha and hot sauce. Finally, under An’s direction, we squeezed lime juice over the entire creation without dropping the lime into the bowl. At last we were ready to dig in, and this time, I fully appreciated the complex layering of flavors and textures. 

Of course, since our OAT group consisted of Americans of a certain generation, An made sure to include a visit to the War Remnants Museum. This is a very popular destination, especially for tourists. In front of the entrance to the building, there was the incongruous scene of smiling young people snapping selfies in front of Air Force bombers, Chinook helicopters, and massive tanks. Artistic arrangements of missiles and bombs could be mistaken for pieces of modern sculpture. 

Once inside, we got the official government perspective on the war. Through maps, text, charts and photos, I was able to follow the chronology of the conflict and to see how the effects of the war are still being felt today. Some of the galleries emphasized the horrors inflicted by the U.S. forces and the bravery and suffering of the Vietnamese people. I made the conscious decision not to enter galleries devoted to the most disturbing images captured by photojournalists. I believe I’d seen them many years ago and these images were already seared in my mind. Like images of the Holocaust, they continue to haunt me. 

Another reminder of this tumultuous period in Vietnam’s history was the memorial to Thich Quang Duc, the Buddhist monk who set himself on fire to protest the South Vietnamese government’s persecution of Buddhists. The stone monument is located on a hillside overlooking the intersection where the monk’s self-immolation took place. Although the majority of the Vietnamese were Buddhist, the South Vietnamese government favored Roman Catholicism and had been actively trying to suppress Buddhism since the 1950s. 

From our base in Saigon, we ventured into the countryside on two occasions. To explore the Mekong Delta, we traveled first by bus to the town of My Tho, located about 45 miles from where the river empties into the sea. From the boat we boarded in My Tho, we got a close look at the muddy Mekong. The large amount of silt in the water accounts for its unappealing appearance. Although it was hard to imagine fish living in the murky waters, An assured us that the river is an important source of tilapia, catfish, and tiger prawns, and we did, in fact, see several fishing boats. 

According to An, this now peaceful area was the scene of frequent shooting during the American War, as one riverbank was occupied by the South Vietnamese Army and the other was under the control of the Viet Cong. 

The river was quite choppy and I was glad when our boat entered a much calmer narrow canal lined by mangrove trees and coconut palms. In order to continue, we soon had to transfer in groups of three or four to small sampans. 

A sampan like the one I traveled in 

At the village of Ben Tre, we disembarked and made our way to a waterfront restaurant where we enjoyed a seafood lunch. The shrimp and the whole fried fish (a type of gourami) were extremely tasty but the highlight of the meal was the appetizer. We were all baffled by the round basketball-sized object that was sitting on our table. Was it a new kind of melon? It turned to be a fried sticky rice ball that was hollow inside. It collapsed when our waitress cut into it with scissors. The official name of this addictively delicious treat is Xoi Chien Phong. 

Riverside restaurant in Ben Tre 

The mystery appetizer 

The area is famous for coconut plantations and after our lunch, we took a short walk to watch local workers making coconut candy. I found the confection to be too waxy for my taste, but it’s extremely popular in Vietnam. 

Our final excursion from Saigon involved a two-hour drive to a national park where we visited the famed Cu Chi tunnels. This 125-mile long network of tunnels was first developed by the Vietnamese during the French War. Later on, during the American War, the Viet Cong operated out of the tunnels. As a result, American planes dropped large loads of chemical herbicides (Agent Orange and its colorful cousins) on Cu Chi, destroying the area’s thick foliage. New forest growth has taken over the park, but bomb craters were still visible.

After we took a look at the captured U.S. aircraft and tanks, a guide showed us well-hidden entrances to tunnels, disguised ventilation openings, and traps with sharpened metal or bamboo spikes. I declined to lower myself into the tightest tunnel openings, but I was able to descend into bunkers and to crawl through some of the wider tunnels where I saw the extensive underground facilities that housed the Viet Cong military headquarters, hospitals, kitchens, etc. We also saw the “factory” where the VC recycled rubber tires into sandals. 

A model of the multi-level tunnel network

Mannequins of Viet Cong soldiers in an underground bunker

After exploring the tunnels, we headed to the nearby village of Cu Chi which today is filled with palm trees and tidy houses surrounded by flowering bushes and shrubs. We joined a local family for lunch at their home and had a lengthy conversation with two former Viet Cong fighters. It was apparent that these veterans bore no ill will towards us, or to Americans in general. And I was somewhat surprised to learn that they regularly gave money to neighbors who served in the South Vietnamese Army (and therefore don’t receive a government pension). 

Our group with Viet Cong veterans

Without a doubt, the dearest memory I take with me from Vietnam is of our OAT leader, An. His warmth, humor, care and knowledge made this trip a uniquely joyful experience. I felt honored that on one of our last nights in Saigon, he invited the entire group to meet his wife and young son in their lovely modern apartment. The success An has achieved in his life is especially remarkable given that his father and grandfather had served in the South Vietnamese Army (not for political reasons but simply so their families wouldn’t starve). With the North Vietnamese victory, An’s parents were forcibly relocated to the jungle, where he was born and raised. Due to his family background, An’s educational opportunities and job prospects were severely limited. But An’s spirit and determination wouldn’t allow him to languish in the jungle. In his teens, he set out on his own for Saigon, where he managed to find work, learn English, and eventually become a qualified tour guide, a career at which he excels. An truly personifies the best of the new Vietnam.