Ho Chi Minh City - My Wife's Homeland

During our most recent trip to Saigon (post-war renamed to Ho Chi Minh City) we had the opportunity to visit some of the city's most famous attractions, many made popular as a result of the Vietnam War. However, my favorite attractions (besides my fun-loving In-Laws) were things that most locals would either take for granted, or just discard as uninteresting due to their fast paced, frenetic life-style brought on by their search for prosperity.

Quick Tips:

Bring U.S. Dollars, lots of them! Vietnam is the only country I know where U.S. Dollars are heavily favored over their own currency (the Dong) when it comes to transferring from one hand to the other. Coins practically don't exist. Technically the coins do exist, but I only found them in sets attached to paperboard in a plastic wrapper for sale as a novelty item at the airport at a cost several fold their face value. During our last visit, the dong was exchanged at a rate of about 13,500 for one dollar. This means that with just under .00 the exchange rate was about a million dong. Bills commonly circulate in denominations of 200, 500, 1000, 2000, 10,000, 20,000, and 50,000 Dong or ranging in value of 1.4 cents to .60 and they all have bear the likeness of Uncle Ho (Ho Chi Minh). While exchanging travelers' checks at a bank, I read a notice advising customers that only a small amount of businesses are permitted to accept U.S. dollars as currency in their transactions. We found this notice to be a formality widely ignored, so as I said; bring lots of U.S. dollars.

Best Way To Get Around:

Life on the streets of Saigon is frenetic. It’s probably best to take taxi rides while within the city. Its possible to hire good Japanese cars and minivans for day trips or week-long excursions. If your expense account is large enough, this can be a reasonable means of travel. I asked to go for a test ride to see if the car was running properly before deciding on a driver. I paid per day from a fairly reputable tourist agency (Took my brother-in-law's word for it). Driving in Vietnam can be nerve racking for the uninitiated driver whether you are a driver or simply a passenger. Vietnamese honk their horns long and hard to warn pedestrians, bicycle riders, motorbike riders, and cars that they are passing. Since the rules of the road are so liberal and the range of speeds so wide, this sort of honking is incessant. On the other hand, road rage as seen on the roads of America seems a rarity. We saw no accidents during our last visit here.

This is one of Saigon''s premier hotels, along with the Rex, Continental and new Sofitel. When we stayed here they were completing a new 24-floor tower. We stayed in the other section of the hotel - the original 10-floor Caravelle Hotel, which was nicely rennovated since the last visit we made. The Original Caravelle hotel was home to the media and war correspondants, and is now on par with pretty much most 4 star hotels worldwide. We like this hotel because its centrally located in District One, opposite the city Opera House, the hotel is right in the heart of the bustling areas for shopping and entertainment. We stayed in the cheapest room, which was $130. If you indulged yourself in the Presential Suite, you''d be set back $800. One thing to note, this hotel definitely caters to the business folk. It had every business ammenity you could imagine. We frankly just wanted a room with A/C. We knew we would be spending most of our waking day with relatives and gorging in local restaurants.

This was my favorite place to eat while in Saigon. We brought my brothers back a second time, although I think unknowingly at the time that they all came back for my sake. I had been oohing and ahhing during the first experience in this restaurant. The restaurant is entirely in the open air atop the Rex Hotel, with an exception of the bar area in the middle which was covered by a cabana style hard umbrella. They served both French and Vietnamese cuisine. Some dishes were a fusion of both cuisines.

Absolutely the best views of Ho Chi Minh Square from the rooftop. We insisted on a table by the edge for views of down below. From our table we had a vantage point of the busy traffic circle and the famous Continental Hotel across the street with its revolving globe. The Rex also has its own revolving icon atop its building - a jewelled crown (similar to the Parkay commercials). The rotating crown looked small from the street below but if you managed to get a rooftop table next to it, your view could be obscured by the six foot behemoth. Be sure to get seated at one of the tables on the roof side that face Ho Chi Minh's statue and the ornate french city hall building. Good photo op.

My appetizer was vietnamese spring rolls (Chai Gio), one of my favorite anyway. These delectable rice paper wrapped "egg rolls" came to the table on a platter that were interestingly pierced by long toothpicks through a hollowed-out pineapple. An A+ for presentation. You'd simply pull at a spring roll from the toothpick jabbed into the pineapple from all around the table. Quite an experience.

We all ordered different main courses, some Vietnamese, some French. The best dish we ordered was a steamed shrimp batter that was cooked and molded around a sugar cane section. I ordered crepes suzette for dessert, which they cooked at the table and put on a kind of flambe show for us using Grande Marnier and some other flammable liquor. Bottomline on the crepes, it tasted better than any I'd had in France, when Pops used to take us on his gastronomie' excursions. Highly recommend coming here for the views and food when in downtown Saigon!

Saigon is a fun city despite the supposed depressed political atmosphere; especially at night when the day cools down to more bearable limits. Depending on what time of year you arrive, Ho Chi Minh Square is bustling with activity at night. Its a perfect place to sit on a bench and watch the many passers by. The square is strategically faced by the City's famous Town Hall, which was constructed with the French architectural influence and meticulously maintained by the Vietnamese to this day. Also facing the Square is the Rex Hotel, made famous during the war for offering U.S. Officers their bachelor quarters. The opera house, also constructed under magnificent French architectural influence, is also nearby, which is used mainly for meetings of government officials. However, my wife's relatives are telling us they will soon open this historic site to theater and opera once again. Every restaurant was packed around this square the last time we were there, but we talked ourselves into one of the best French restaurants in town nearby the square: "Brodards" and then after a fantastic meal, we headed back to Ho Chi Minh Square to sit on the benches and watch the locals walk by. This is the place to be for milling around and soaking up true sights and sounds of Vietnam city life.

This was one of the few places I wanted to see, simply to see if it was true that the Vietnamese government would actually put up a memorial of sorts denouncing the U.S. presence during the Vietnam War. The War Crimes Exhibition, formerly the "Museum of American War Crimes", has been changed so as not to offend Yank tourists. This was a grisly place and I don't recommend it for the faint of heart. The brochure we received here was entitled "Some Pictures of U.S. Imperialists Aggressive War Crimes in Vietnam".

The exhibits ranged from a mannequin of an American soldier stomping on a traditional rice basket with a burning village in the background to jars filled with pickled deformed fetuses which had been exposed to Agent Orange. There are different rooms in the museum; in one there's a framed piece of black velour with several military decorations pinned to it under glass. The legend, written by a former U.S. Air Force major, simply says: "We were wrong. I'm sorry." I was drawn to a newspaper article in particular, that was prominently displayed on a wall. It pictured and referred to an U.S. Air Force captain who had refused to drop his B-52 bombs over Hanoi during the Rolling Thunder campaign. The Vietnamese communist hyped this heavily as part of their propaganda against the other Americans during the war. More traditional remnants of the War were scattered in a somewhat organized fashion over a two square acre courtyard, including tanks, fighter jets, turrets off of personnel carriers and other sundry remnants.

The Cao Dai Temple is located about two hours drive out of the Saigon city limits. The best way to see this temple is by tour. You can also go it alone and rent a van for the day. The Cao Dai Sect compound was rather a unique experience. Caodaism is the product of an attempt to create the perfect religion. It mixes Buddhism, Confucianism, Taoism, native Vietnamese, Spiritualism, Christianity, and Islam. They get alot of their ideas and "saints" through seances. This is usually performed by a high priest holding a crayon or by a follower who leaves an empty envelope taped to the altar and when he comes back a divine message may be found inside. Patron saints include Dr. SunYat Sen and Victor Hugo. Their symbol of worship is a Masonic-like eyeball and their temples are extremely colorful and festive.

We witnessed noon mass at this particular temple, which brings hundreds of followers all dressed in white into the temple for prayer. If the mixture of religion was not enough to spark a visit here, then you must see the temple within the compound. It is absolutely the most ornate and colorful house of worship we have ever been in, mirroring the showmanship of decor during the baroque and byzantine times in europe and turkey. This, though, built in the 20th century.

We took our first ride on the "reunification express" train from Saigon to Nha Trang overnight. We booked a four berth room and shared it with a young Vietnamese family. All foreigners traveling in Vietnam pay 5 times what the natives do for train, bus, etc. That's the way it is. When they found out my wife was a "Viet Q" they charged her the exhorbitant multiple too. Fortunately, the room arrangements weren't bad, except for the "Voice of Vietnam" blaring constantly. This is a propaganda station which airs 24 hours a day. We tried to turn it down or off, but they had removed the knobs.

When we arrived in Nha Trang and the train came to a halt, many beggar children ran on board to collect any leftover food. We had children trying to grab our stuff through the window and when I gave one girl some cake, a fight ensued with the others. It was crazy. The reason we came to Nha Trang was for a day of R&R. It is a beautiful white-sand beach resort. Tran Phu Boulevard is Nha Trang's most famous thoroughfare. It runs the length of the beach with several major hotels located within a few steps from the beach. Unlike most major cities in Vietnam where the primary mode of transportation is the motorbike, many people of Nha Trang still walk or use the bicycle as their means of getting around. This adds to the tranquillity of the town.

From our hotel, we headed down to the beach and rented a cushy lounge chair with shade canopy for $1 all day. We were then plied with food, drinks from sellers on the beach. The day was over too quick for me to fully enjoy the experience, plus it really felt the same as being on my home turf beach in California anyway, so we were ready to return to Saigon. We could have stayed an extra night, but I missed the ammenities of our air conditioned Caravelle hotel in Saigon (which were lacking in our hotel here).

Saigon's markets are worlds unto themselves. The most fascinating is the indoor Cholon "Chinese" market in the Chinese district of Saigon and the local Vietnamese Cho Ben Thanh market.

Cholon market is a mind-boggling crush of restaurant booths, not to mention booths of exotic fruits, dried shrimp and fish, and mounds of grains and rice. In tight spaces, some women swung in hammocks above their goods. In the "restaurant" stalls, soupmakers clacked wooden sticks, which was their way of announcing their noodles were ready. I had three separate bowls of noodles because the portions they serve are for the much smaller appetite in Vietnam. This was a good place to pick up crusty "French" baguettes to bring back to the hotel for late snacks.

Cho Ben Than market was more the same, but less of the food booths and more of the knick-knacks; like shoes, toys, clothes, cheap jewelry, household utensils, etc. This was mainly a market for the locals, but we did see tourists there experiencing the great sights and aromas it had to offer.

Even though my wife and I are both Catholic, I wanted to go to the Giac Lam pagoda over on the other side of the city. I'd heard it was the oldest pagoda in Saigon, but more importantly to me, I'd never been inside a Buddhist temple. I'd always wondered since the days of David Carradine and that Kung Fu TV series. My Vietnamese mother-in-law absolutely refused for her children to go to any house of worship, except Catholic churches. So my brother and I arranged to sneak away, with everyone in on the plan but our "Ma." We took his motorbike across town, which was an adventure to write about similar to my first motorbike ride. The pagoda was a haven of tranquility. It was full of mellow woodwork and intricate decorations, with a community of monks who live and study there. At the entrance an old lady beckoned for me to buy a small bird from her cage. I refused politely, but later found out from my Vietnamese brother she basically cussed me out. It was apparently a sin not to buy a bird from her. Actually, I would have been buying the right to release it from captivity - something to do with the Buddhist kindred spirits. Once inside, it was dark and musty but very quite. I was fascinated with all the bats flying around inside the building and hanging from a section of the ceiling. The monks were ignoring the bats as if they were a respected fixture of the pagoda.

Come to this square any day if you want a slice of the typical French classical architecture. Come to this plaza on Sunday if you want to observe women in their traditional white Au Dai, the national dress, as they congregate to the Notre Dame for church services. We were there to conduct official post office business. Both the Notre Dame and Saigon's main post office are adjacent to each other, standing in all their French ornate glory. The pictures speak for themselves. After our business was over at the post office, we hung at the steps waiting for one of my brother's girlfriends. While we were waiting we noticed church services letting out and all these women in white Au Dai pouring out of the front door. What a pretty scene, until the kids trying to sell used postage stamps and postcards accosted us. I think my brother-in-laws were more perturbed than I was. The Vietnamese kids can be quite persistent and will continue to hound you even if you showed no interest in buying anything from them. Somehow I think it was my big, white American presence that attracted them over to us. My wife's oldest brother was finally able to shake the boys off. It was time for some Pho (Vietnamese noodle soup).

Ao Dai, pronounced "ou yai", is a dress of pure art form. I wish every woman would have one of these in their closet. It is popular in the South, but not so much in the North. It is one of those fashions that seem to only have a last leg on life due to the global popularity of western dress. I see it in numbers mainly with the younger, Vietnamese schoolgirl who is still required to wear it (in white) and still found prevalent in most of the schools in Saigon. Its also refreshing to happen upon a Vietnamese wedding and see the vibrant colors adorned by women of all ages, as they dress their best for the momentous ocassion. Made of silk or a less expensive synthetic material, the ao dai is tightly fitted on the upper body, with long sleeves and the bodice drapes down in the front and back nearly to the ankles. The sides are slit up to a few inches above the hips and the sheer material often reveals a hint of skin from where this opening slit occurs though this display is only vulgar in the vulgar, uninitiated male mind. After many painstaking queries, I was finally able to convince my wife to wear one to our last Christmas ball. This, even though I knew that she had also been taken by the popularity of the western dress for the last 20 years.

"Hurry Hun hurry!" I yelled to my daughter as she ran through the seating area of Gate 12 to hand us the bag we left at the house. At the same time the airline official was trying to close the jet way doors and saying something like: “Sir we can’t delay the airplane any longer, you and your wife will have to board now.” I owed a debt of gratitude to my neighbor for speeding my daughter through the city ensuring we got that bag. I was prepared to use my body as a doorstop until my daughter showed up with that bag. It was loaded with requisite gifts for my wife’s relatives in Saigon, Vietnam (Although officially renamed "Ho Chi Minh City"), everyone still calls the city “Saigon"). This was the start of our intensely prepared trip to Saigon, Vietnam and I prayed this wouldn’t be one of those Chevy Chase nightmare vacation movies. More importantly this happened to be my wife’s first trip back to her birthplace in decades, so returning with gifts and money was a must – a duty, if you will.

Getting past this point of our annual Saigon pilgrimage is always a sigh of relief, that is after we clear customs. During the war, Saigon Airport (Than Son Nut) was one of the three busiest in the world. Now it is pretty run down, but on landing, you can still see the fortress-like walls that protected the runways from enemy fire, now all overgrown with moss. The bus ride from our airplane to the immigration lines is a good vantage point to see the old delapitated, concrete U.S. Air Force jet hangars that were abandoned from the war in 1975.

I always wonder before our arrival how much we would come into contact with the past. Thankfully it was usually pretty subtle, however, because I am an obvious American, we also experienced some "in your face" history as well. Despite all the horror horror stories you may hear about getting through customs on arrival, this is generally not true. In fact as long as I'm with my wife, I have never been hassled. After baggage claim, no one gave us or our bags a second look, and after we cleared the x-ray machine we were out the airport door and free at last to begin our travel adventure.

Traffic in Saigon can be nerve-racking for the uninitiated driver, passenger or pedestrian. We notice the local drivers will honk their horns long and hard to warn pedestrians, bicycle riders, motorbike riders, and cars that they are either approaching or passing. Since the rules of the road are so liberal and the range of speeds so wide, this sort of honking is incessant. On the other hand, road rage as seen on the roads of America seems a rarity here in Saigon. Amazingly we saw no accidents during our bouts on the city streets, though a friend of ours saw many during the same time. I've developed a firm appreciation for the continual array of high pitched motor bike horns. Its what makes the city the city that it is. Crossing the street as a pedestrian can be a challenge. What you do is slowly step into traffic and maintain a constant slow pace across the street. Don't speed-up, don't stop, or else you are going to mess up the whole system. As they see you stepping off the curb, they will accurately calculate the exact spot where your paths would cross, assuming you maintain a constant speed and don't freak out. They simply adjust their trajectory accordingly. The first time you try this it feels like jumping off a bridge without the bungee cord. But after a few tries you're desensitized.

We took a taxi from our hotel to my in-laws' house. Little did I know my brother-in-law's fiancé was there waiting to anxiously take us to her family in another district of the city. Okay, this should be fun I'm thinking, meeting soon to be in-laws of in-laws. Arrangements are made in Vietnamese of course and its suggested by someone, still to this day I'm not sure by whom, that we make the trek on two motorbikes. I'm looking down at my brother's small motorbike (parked in the living room as a typical Vietnamese precaution) wondering how a bike so small can negotiate my 6-foot frame, not to mention my brother's frame. I'm less interested thinking how his petite figured fiancé and my wife will hold up on their motorbike. Anyway after much trepidation (and having just witnessed these crazy motorbikes an hour earlier), I jump on the suicide machine, thinking; well, when in Rome.....plus, I did not want to be rude. So, I jumped on and kept a strong grip around my brother's waist and off we went. We wizzed through the streets of Saigon. It was a thrill! Until we came to a crowded intersection. Motorbikers were passing us in the opposite direction, both sides, by inches! I felt I would lose my kneecaps, so I tucked them in. My wife got my attention and pointed to her wrist. I returned with a "deer in the headlights look." Later I found out she was motioning for me to hide my watch from public view, as "swipe bys" are commonplace. All being said, my brother did a great job getting us there in one piece, and we soon arrived to the family home. Now I could look forward to the ride back. Oh joy!