By Lucy

Ho Chi Minh city, known as Sai Gon until the North won the Vietnam war. Sai Gon is also the name of the river; it means “tall trees”, presumably referring to the forest that used to be here. The streets are still dominated by giant trees that tower over 4 and 5 story buildings. They somehow managed to fit 14 million people into a space half the size of Toronto!

Until about 500 years ago this land was part of the Khmer empire, when the Nguyen lords from Hanoi took it over. There’s still a lot of ethnic Cambodians around.

Popular iconography in the area are statues of Tran Hung Dao, an ancient general who helped repel the Mongols and attained mythic status. Also the symbol for the Lac bird, the ancient sign of Ao Cu and her 50’000 children.

I was looking forward to seeing Vietnam, or maybe Cambodia, from the air. I suspect the plane just flew over Vietnamese airspace, but I can’t say for certain, because the ground quickly disappeared beneath clouds. Is it just my luck, or is there constantly a level of clouds in the sky that we can’t see from the ground?

The flight was generally uneventful until we got close Ho Chi Minh City. The captain ordered the flight staff back to their seats, we flew through a cloud, and the plane fell out of the sky.

Not literally, obviously, but it was quite jarring.

We left the cloud and the plane regained control, but as we descended to the airport, we flew through another dark cloud and dropped again.

Eek!

I think we circled the airport a couple of times. Eventually we landed, a little dramatically.

Every flight plays “the ballad of Ho Chi Minh” upon landing.

Walked out easily, obviously with no customs to clear. Turned my data back on.

Lan was supposed to meet me at the airport. I assumed she had a car, but I was mistaken; she was taking Grab. Turns out, the dark cloud was a massive thunderstorm that hit around 5, so everything on Grab was booked.

I waited more than half an hour at the airport, my stomach doing flips because it was already very past my dinner time. Why did Nhan tell her to pick me up? I could have gotten a Grab to District One by myself (the downtown core, where all the tourity stuff is, is District One).

Lan showed up finally, having bummed a ride off the neighbour with his scooter. She shrieked and ran across the airport terminal to meet me, wrapping me in a big hug, or a big a hug as she could manage. She was maybe 5 feet tall and 80 pounds soaking wet – having grown up in Ho Chi Minh during the war.

Of course, we still couldn’t get a ride to the hotel on his scooter, but the two of them stood around talking in Vietnamese while we waited for a taxi. I felt slightly like the kid being taken to school, not understanding the adults.

Part of what makes Vietnamese so hard to learn is that you can’t pronounce it phonetically, to the nth degree. Each “word” had 6 pronunciation variations, each meaning something dramatically different (think bare, bear and bear). If I really tried to, I could, but it wasn’t worth it for 2 weeks. And Lan’s English was pretty good.

Eventually we got to the hotel Lan had booked for me. I had my cash ready, but they just asked for my passport and then handed me the key. Lan dragged me up to the room.

Did she pay for me? I was afraid to ask, because I didn’t really want to pay for this room.

The room was nice, if Spartan. You have to place the key in a slot on the wall, to make sure you don’t leave the lights on and the AC running while you’re out all day.

Lan had also brought me some fruit; 4 mangoes, 5 oranges, 4 of something she called milk fruit, and some kind of glass apple.

She left me alone to unpack and shower, but at this point it was 7 and I was starving. I used the bathroom and went back downstairs.

I hate complaining about kindness, but misplaced kindness is… well… the road to hell is paved with good intention. Lan dragged me around the corner to Bui Vien street, which is the same as Khao San road; loud bars with pretty girls, scantily clad; giant TV screaming at you; speakers belting out Western music. You could tell Lan never comes down here and was enjoying walking around, talking pictures and videos to send to people, so I didn’t want to complain.

Lan isn’t sure what to call me. Nhan introduced me by my old name, but obviously that’s not the name on my passport. She seems to have decided to split the different and call me Lin.

Around 8, she finally took me to a food court. We ordered some food; she ordered too much food, but then she paid, so I guess I can’t complain. We sat there talking and eating for a bit.

“When Truc was sick, I helped Nhan with the kids and stuff.”

“Ah, that why she like you!” She exclaims, eyes wide. Wait, did Nhan not tell her? “Nhan my little sister, I oldest. I born 1960. Nhan born 1968. There 11 of us.”

“Wow, that’s a big family.” Especially during the war, right?

She nods. “I work in Australia. I live there, too, but I come back every few months. This is home. I miss the food.”

“Are you married?” I ask.

“No, no. Single mother, many years. My boy and girl, they 40. They much older than you!” She laughs.

Me and Lan get along pretty good. Both older sisters, driven, independent. We chat for an hour and a bit, but I’m nodding off in my seat. She insists on walking me back to the hotel to make sure I don’t get lost… because she forgets I just did a week in Hanoi and more than a month in Thailand, I guess. She also tells me she’s busy on Saturday but we can hang out Sunday.

I mentioned to her that I am going to Cambodia after this. She told Nhan, who sends me a flurry of texts telling me I can’t go to Cambodia because it’s dangerous.

Is Cambodia more dangerous than Vietnam? Sure. Especially for a small Vietnamese lady – there’s no love lost between them – but for backpackers, it’s normal. There’s lots of danger shared between the two of them; hustlers, pickpockets, but there’s also lots of Agent Orange and unexploded shells in both countries. Agent Orange is more common around HCMC, because of the Viet Cong, and unexploded shells are more common around Hanoi, because of the bombing runs.

I debated inviting Vlad to stay with me. His flight gets in at 1AM and he hadn’t bothered booking a hostel for the night… he was planning to walk from the airport and then just… hang out, somewhere. I ended up deciding against it. I couldn’t tell if it made sense to offer or if it was just my martyr complex.

I sleep well-ish.

I wake up at the normal time, have the free breakfast, and go out for a wander. I didn’t want to commit to anything today; I have lots of time to burn here, and I wasn’t sure if Lan or Vlad would want to do anything.

The year of the horse stuff is interesting. Horses are easy to make look majestic… what do the decorations look like when it’s the year of the pig? Or rat?

There’s security guards everywhere in this city. I wonder if that actually accomplishes anything, or if they’re just there to look scary.

The church was a wash. Called the Notre Dame of Vietnam, it’s buried under a scaffold… although as a scaffolder, I had fun scoping it out nonetheless. I sent the pics to Duff and he had a good laugh about it as well.

After a couple of hours, I found my way down to the riverfront and stayed there for a bit, watching the river float by.

Lunch time!

I headed back to the hotel. Seems like a shame not to spend time there, what with it being so expensive and all. And all this free fruit…

I ordered some cheesey fries and set about trying to make a dent in the fruit. Me and Vlad emailed back and forth a bit, and I invited him over to help me eat the fruit and play games. We hooked up the Switch to the TV in the room and played some Mario Kart and a round of Mario Party.

The milk fruit is good, it really does taste like milk. It’s a little annoying to eat, though. The glass apple was better, since you can eat it like a normal apple.

Then I discovered Vlad’s a real nerd, codes in Python and Javascript, so I showed him the list of games on my Steam account and some other little things I’ve been working on.

Around 8, he persuaded me to go out for a walk. Not that I needed much persuading. I do enjoy a long walk, although I wasn’t sleeping well, despite booking myself a private room specifically to sleep.

We walked for a long time. The more we talk, the more his lack of English fluency is obvious, although he much prefers that I correct him. Since he’s not going back to Russia, he needs a new first language. He views it as an English lesson. Occasionally, we have to break out Google translate to figure out something. After some false starts, he finally managed to broach the topic that had obviously been dancing around his brain for a while.

“Are you happy?” He asks.

“People tell me I should be. That I’m living the dream.”

“Are you, though?”

“No, I’m not.” I say, after thinking about it for a long time.

“Why not?”

“Are you?”

He thinks about it. “What is happiness?”

I frown, “Happiness… is… when you are where you want to be. When you don’t want to be anywhere else but where you are right now.”

“I’ve never felt that. Have you?”

“Yes. Three times.” I nod. “It’s hard to explain to people. It’s not like I’m not enjoying myself here, or that things aren’t fun… I’m spending too much money to not be enjoying myself, but I’m not happy. But someone… always takes my happiness away.”

“I understand.” He says. Beat, “Sort of.”

“Because you’ve never been happy.”

“Yes.”

What an odd conversation. But I can sense that my job is to guide him more than anything. I’m not going to find clarity here, because this is temporary for me; I’ll go back to Thunder Bay, start working again, and feel normal. He’s got nothing to look forward to. Homeless.

That’s another thing in common. We’re both homeless. Although I realize, I have more options that I want to admit in my misanthropic soul. Paul, Hanuman, Kevin… they wouldn’t actually let me be homeless. They’d find a way to get me back to Thunder Bay and under a safe roof. I feel both a little warmer and a little more annoyed by that fact. When something becomes your identity, it’s hard to let it go, even if its changing you for the better.

“Where are you going after HCMC?” I asked.

“Kuala Lumpur. My parents… they don’t understand why I left, but they will come to visit me outside of Russia.”

“Oh, that’s nice of them.”

“That’s what family is for.”

That’s what you think. My dad won’t even visit me in the same province. “They don’t understand why you left?”

“No. Some people… I don’t understand.” He hunts for the words, in English. “They don’t think the war will get that bad. That I will get drafted. They try to convince themselves…”

Around 10, I call it. He want to get another coffee and keep walking and talking, but Lucy needs sleep. Vlad does not; like Kyle, he stays awake all night and day, getting maybe 4 hours if he’s lucky.

Not that I can sleep. The hamster wheel is a-spinning.

Sunday I didn’t do much. Again I was waiting for Lan to message me, but I was also enjoying having the room to myself and aware that there wasn’t much to do in HCMC once I’d covered all the main attractions. No point in wasting having the room to myself. I booked the rest of the week at a nearby hostel that seemed decent.

The most fun I had in Vietnam was hanging out with Vlad. He’s like the ultimate cheat code; he can already speak passable Vietnamese and he knows all the good stuff to try. He’s also decent at haggling; it was a lot of fun watching him talk to shopkeepers, trying to guess who was winning. We made a game out of finding the cheapest meals we could. Cheapest was 10k for a banh mi (0.50 Canadian), but it was little more than a baguette with a couple of leaves and a slathering of pate (sometimes you pay more for a reason). Anything below 10k probably isn’t worth buying. 1k bills are basically just for refilling your water at the hostel.

Me and Vlad made plans to go to the Cu Chi tunnels on Tuesday. I was unwilling to spend a lot of money on an expensive tour, so he volunteered to rent a bike so we can go see it. Since the bike costs the same no matter how much we use it, he asked me to find other things to do that day to justify the cost, so I perused Google maps for other attractions in the area.

Around 2, Lan finally messaged me. She was working, but she might be free around 7.

Jeez, working all day on a Sunday? That sucks.

I texted Nhan some pictures. She asked me how much the hotel cost and I confessed I had no idea, ’cause I was pretty sure Lan paid. She immediately ordered me to pay her back.

What? Why? If she was comfortable settling up with the hotel before I’d even gotten there, I doubt she expected or wanted to be reimbursed. She hadn’t blinked at all about the cost of eating at the food court. I gave Nhan a non-committal answer. It’s not like I’m swimming in dough over here…

Around 4, I make myself go for a walk. If Lan isn’t free ’til 7, we’ll be eating late again. I’ll grab something solid now and just have a salad or something when she’s free.

I did question the wisdom of it. It’s not like she knows me well. Walking around the city is one thing; having dinner just because, seems slightly like a waste of time, especially when her time seems so precious.

Around 7, she texted me that she was on her way in a red taxi. I dutifully wandered out to the road and hopped in the red taxi when it showed up. We went across the district to a French bistro that appeared to be winding down.

“They close soon but this my friend.” She said, gesturing to the waiter, “I call ahead, ask him to stay open.”

We flipped through the menu. I ordered a salad niçoise; she ordered a steak and onion soup, and I found out later, two kinds of dessert. She also gave me a chunk of her steak and ordered me to eat it as well.

After I’d eaten all I could, we were also handed a plastic bag with some food to-go. Then she paid and we left.

We went on a walk across the city, a slightly confused walk. I think Lan was just enjoying having someone around to go for a walk with, because it was 9:30 going on 10 and I was pretty tired. At one point, she insisted on taking a detour down the red light district that was populated entirely by Japanese girls… for the scenery?

Also at one point, I had to grab and yank her out of the way of a rude motorbike driver. It occurred to me a few times as we struggled to cross the road, that I could probably sweep her up into a bridal carry and carry her across the road, but I doubt she would appreciate it.

Finally she called a taxi to take me back to the hotel and her home. She bid me to enjoy the rest of my visit to Vietnam, and that was the last I heard from her.

Watched some TV. Went to bed.

Next day, time to ship out. Had breakfast, watched a bit of TV, packed. I invited Vlad to go to the Palace with me if he wanted and to meet me at my new hostel before noon. He agreed.

I went to my new hostel around 11. Too early to check in, but I dropped my bags off and lounged around for an hour. The dessert Lan gave me was some sort of pudding, with a baked topper, some sliced nuts and some caramel. I ate it while I admired the view from the roof. The roof is also the kitchen and I spotted at least one cockroach… but then, what is a city without cockroaches? And I’m pretty sure they can’t actually hurt me, they’re just “creepy”.

At 12:10, Vlad still hadn’t showed up or emailed me. I started walking in the direction of the Palace, which was also in the direction of his hostel. Maybe I’d run into him on the way.

I walked all the way to the post office without running into him. Paid for my stamps and sent my postcards.

Now I had an email from him. He was at my hostel. I told him to meet me at the Palace and started walking.

The walk to the Palace is maybe 5 minutes. It would take 20-30 minutes to walk from my hostel, so I waited 40 minutes, checking up and down the road periodically. I finally had to buy a ticket and go in so I could use the toilet.

Spoiler… I never did find out what happened to Vlad. When I ran into him later, he couldn’t explain the delay. We agreed to pretend it hadn’t happened.

The Independence Palace is interesting. It was the seat of power for South Vietnam, before the war, and the war officially ended when a tank bust down the gate in ’75. They basically just left everything as it was, including the telex machines in the basement, a living memorial to the past. In a way, keeping the palace as it was is kind of an “eff you” to the South; you lost the war and we’re keeping this to remind you of it. They left the tank that knocked down the gate on the grounds. Even dad expressed surprise that the North hadn’t just bulldozed the palace to the ground and pretended it never existed.

But then, to a certain extent, there wasn’t much of an appetite for the war. A lot of the lines in this area were drawn by the French and the Americans, and the Vietnam people mostly agreed on unity. The real war was between ancient Khmer and the upstart Viet people, but that’s been settled for a while. Cambodia has no chance of winning now.

Got some dinner, walked back to the hotel to check in. My room is frigid! But I suppose it’s better than sweltering. The beds are in rough shape.

You know, past of the problem with hostels is cell phones. Back in the day of the OG backpackers, you didn’t have a small device with a light and the ability to play music out loud in your pocket, so it was harder to be disruptive at night.

I got an email from Vlad asking if I “tricked” him by not showing up today. Tricked… how? And why? I sent him my receipts for the Palace and the hostel by way of answer.

Slept pretty good. Would have been nice to sleep in, but I had to get up at 6:30 for our planned outing today.

I got ready and waited in the lobby. At 7, Vlad showed up and looked honestly surprised to see me. We talked for a minute and agreed to move on.

First order of business! Breakfast.

We found coffee easily enough, but we disagreed over food. We ended up buying a kilo of bananas and stashing them in my backpack. Food for later! Then we had to go hunting for a bike.

Vlad got annoyed quickly. A year ago, you could rent a motorbike for 150’000. Now, it costs 200’000 minimum, and they want your passport as collateral. Stupid farang ruining it for everyone. Vietnam is changing quickly; visit while it’s still cheap.

I did have a good giggle when he complained the bike we were given had too much horsepower. Its top speed is 85 kms/h! I showed him a picture of me and my bike and his eyes about fell out of his head. He did offer to let me drive, but I don’t want to try and navigate through HCMC traffic.

We grabbed two helmets with scratched visors, hopped on the bike, and we’re off!

It’s still slightly terrifying, joining the river of bikes. Riding without my gear. I wore my raincoat the whole time, as if that would help in a crash, rehearsed how to tuck and roll, and clung tightly to Vlad.

If he enjoyed that, he didn’t comment on it.

First stop; gas.

It takes forever to get anywhere on the roads in Vietnam. It was maybe 40 kilometers to the Cu Chi tunnels, but the state of the roads, the traffic, and the slow top speed of the bike conspire to drag out the time.

We stopped halfway there to stretch our legs and get a cold drink. Vlad’s favourite is tra (pronounced “cha”) tac kalamansi. He also keeps paying for me, which makes me anxious. Not that anything is expensive here, but I always like to understand… is he just being a gentleman? I tried handing him a 500k note to help with the cost of gas, the bike, and food, and he waved it away.

The Cu Chi tunnels are interesting. The Viet Cong dug them for guerilla war against the Americans and they were pretty ingeniously designed. The way they hid the air returns, or the smoke from cooking underground. They also used American clothes and shampoo so the dogs wouldn’t be able to smell them. They wore shoes designed so one faced forward and one faced backwards, to make it hard to follow. And the traps… gruesome.

Since me and Vlad were being cheap, we just followed some other tour. All white people are the same, right? If anyone could tell we didn’t belong, no one called us out for it.

Then we reached… the range.

POP! I flinched at the sound.

There’s no way around it, even though you have to pay extra to shoot a period appropriate gun.

“Did you want to?” Vlad asked me.

“I’ve shot enough guns.” I reply.

POP! POP!

We break off from this tour because some of them want to play with the guns.

I run away from Vlad and hide behind a corner. Images flash behind my eyes.

Get ahold of yourself. You can’t sign up for the reserves if the sound of a gun gives you flashbacks.

POP!

Face white and eyes wide, I find Vlad and we head out. We find another tour to walk with.

This tour has food. They offer us what the guerillas ate; cassava dipped in peanuts and salt. I actually enjoy the taste, and it covers all the main food groups.

We do walk through some of the tunnels. I expected that Vlad could hold my backpack, since he’s done this trip before, but he wanted to do the tunnels as well. They give you options to do 20, 40, 60 or 100 meters, and I picked 20 even though I wanted to pick 100, because I didn’t fancy dragging my backpack with me for that long.

As every long-term reader knows, I’m not claustrophobic. Hell, the tunnels were spacious compared to some of the places I’ve worked; at least they are designed for human occupation.

Then we were done. Time to head out!

The next place I had picked is called Nui Ba Den, the mountain of the Black Virgin. Like Guan Yin, she was a Buddhist adherent who absconded to a tall mountain to practice her faith in solitude. The mountain itself is a perfect cone, like mountain Fuji, and it’s the only mountain for a hundred kilometers in any direction.

It’s also in the heart of Tay Ninh, a province that got heavily sprayed by Agent Orange. Don’t eat the dirt.

We took a slightly circuitous route because Vlad wanted to drive by what he though was a lake. It’s actually a reservoir, with a high wall, to feed the rubber plantations in the area. It was still a nice drive.

And then we turned the corner and there it was.

We drove around the mountain, but currently, there is no way to drive up it. They are working on a road, so maybe soon. We finally gave up and went to the cable car station, which wanted 600k each to go up to the top! Or 250k total for us to go to the first little stop. I paid for this, since I had my 500k note.

Sure, the little peak is fine. Who needs to go up the entire mountain?

The cable car was slightly terrifying. The view is nice, though.

Nui Ba Den is a whole thing. I wasn’t expecting it to be as busy as it was, or as touristy. We were the only white tourists as well; they mostly seem to cater to Thai and Cambodian Buddhists.

There are a few little alters and stories and temples. We wandered around for a couple of hours, me explaining the meaning to Vlad, who has no religion and finds the whole thing equal parts daft and fascinating.

Teaching can be so enlightening. It’s helpful to have someone point out the things they don’t understand about your faith, so you can really meditate on the necessity of it.

There’s also wild monkeys!

There’s also quite a few hammocks around. It’s still a popular site for pilgrimages; hiking to the top. If I had more time, it would be tempting. It costs 20k to nap in a hammock.

Finally the sun started to go down and we had to head out. It was still 2 hours back to HCMC. We were roughly halfway between HCMC and Phnom Penh, because of how the border is drawn, and I joked with Vlad that we should go to Cambodia (he was not amused).

Stopped for some pho. We got a sugar cane drink… because they grow sugar cane here, they have a drink that’s literally just juice pressed out of the sugar cane. Since I know blackstrap molasses comes from sugar cane and is full of nutrients, I wonder what the nutrient makeup of fresh sugarcane juice is? Not enough to justify all the sugar, that’s for sure. But it was novel. Vlad also grabbed some fruit I hadn’t tried called sweetsop.

We also made a detour to visit something I’d found on the map. It called itself the 7 Wonders of the World. It’s just a park with little version of famous buildings, free to walk around. It was a great spot to stop and stretch our legs – both of us were getting pretty saddle sore.

Vlad offered to let me drive for a bit, but it’s just an automatic scooter. I’ll pass.

We limped into HCMC late at night. Dropped off the bike and got his passport back. Went back to my hostel and hung out for a bit, eating the sweetsop.

Then I had to call it a night.

I woke up to several missed calls. Nhan demanding I paid her sister back.

What gives? Lan isn’t broke… she sent me home with dessert and fruit I didn’t ask for and she definitely didn’t need to buy. Dinner at the French bistro cost at least 700k. She works 7 days a week for an Australian bank, she has a fat paycheck. I texted Lan to ask her what was going on and never heard back from her again, so I couldn’t pay her back even if I wanted to.

I spent the day relaxing. Now that season 5 of Stranger Things is out, my feed is full of people talking about it, so I decided to watch it. I’m glad I waited until the show was done… I can’t imagine waiting almost a decade for it to be over. 2 years between seasons? Kill me now. However, it also means it’s hard to avoid spoilers.

Anywho, I like it.

Vlad loves the shop on the corner of my alley because it sells the 10K banh mi. It’s such a feature the staff wear shirts that say “10K” on it! Personally, I enjoy their bao – they’re giant, with pork and three quail eggs inside, only 25k. It’s a whole lotta protein, which I need: my body is so sore and stiff from the bike ride.

Finished season 1 and went to bed.