City Tour - Part Snore

This is not a pretty city. There are interesting parts, some well manicured small parks, and a few visual surprises, but very few. Today, we had a city tour planned so we would not miss something spectacular without realizing it, though our guidebook held no promises. We were to meet at the agency in the next alley at 7:50 am. We ran to a restaurant, told them we had a tour in twenty minutes and if they could not produce two omelets in five minutes, we were just having coffee. Miracles do happen and our perfect omelets with a French baguette heated perfectly were sitting in front of our faces with four minutes.

Arriving three minutes late at the tour office, we had to wait an additional twenty minutes for our tour van to pick us up. Being the first, we had to pick up three more couples and then we were off. The first amazing fact that we deciphered from our tour guide whose English was less than spectacular was that the population of Ho Chi Minh City is ten million. Holy population explosion, this city’s population is the same as the total population of Hungary. One cities population is the same as a whole country. If that were not enough to blow us away, the next statistic did it for sure. There are six million motorcycles in the city, because at one time the only type available was Honda for $7,000 a pop, but now you can get a Chinese made one for $300.00 new or $200.00 used. They need a special and different license to drive a motorcycle than a car and they are eligible from the age of seventeen years old. As of January 1^st, they have to wear helmets or be fined. This was one of the highlights of the tour, which does not fare well for the day. He told us that clients in the past have asked him if Vietnam has a large Muslim population since so many motorcyclists wear face masks. The masks are for the pollution, not a religious zealousness. The overwhelming majority of the country is Buddhist.

As pleasant as our tour guide was with his five year degree in Tourism and Travel, he admitted that languages did not make up much of the curriculum. With his burly accent mutilating the English language, it was a verbal-auditory puzzle for the rest of the day. One of our fellow travelers was a Vietnamese who escaped to the U.S with his family, when he was a baby. He was able to aid us with the really tough comments when asking our guide to repeat himself for the tenth time would be just downright rude.

Our first stop was one I could have skipped altogether. It was the memorial for the Vietnam War. There are six buildings. By the mid point of the first one, I was in tears. I was part of the draft, I was part of protesting, I remember the exact spot I was at when the Kent State shootings were announced. There is no way I could go through these buildings that held devastating pictures, scenes of torture, remembrances of all kinds that would make Hell look like an amusement park. The only building I made it through successfully was the one with the protest posters and photos from around the world trying to get the U.S. to leave Vietnam. There were many photos I remember seeing in LOOK, TIME, and NEWSWEEK. I was disheartened and had to wait out the time for the rest of the group to regroup.

Perfectly timed, the next stop was a Buddhist temple that dates back to the 1700s. A monk was performing a funeral service, what timing after the memorial. The grounds were being maintained by a number of monks who were busy at work repainting memorials of prior temple leaders, cutting the topiaries, and cleaning. This also happens to be a monastery.

When we stopped at the Chinese market, it looked innocent enough from the outside. Our guide told us how it is sectioned off to set us on our shopping adventure. We had no thoughts of dropping any money here, so he took us around himself. With aisles barely maneuverable, we passed the candy and dried fruit section, the shoes, the material, and off the rack clothes. All of the while, people are pushing and shoving to get by with either an urgent need to be some place else or with trays of food from the restaurant area going to the sales people on the floor. Even our guide admitted it is too hectic and swarming with people for him to come here other than with tours. He said it is like this seven days a week. Merchandise is piled so high and there are no obvious lines of demarcation from one vendor and the other, it is impossible to know how they can keep track or do inventory. Yet, all of the workers are unloading yet more cartons with more commodities and noting all of it, while counting stock on hand.

The tour included a light lunch back at the tour office. Strangely, the tour office is in the next alley from our hotel. They served rice, spring rolls, and a green vegetable, but for those of us who would not eat shrimp, were served tofu. They also brought out a soup that was so flavorless, none of us could determine what stock it once had.

A continuation of the day included the Imperial building, used by the President of Vietnam during the war. It has ninety-six rooms, but thankfully, we did not have to view all of them. It is still used today for some government functions and can also be rented for weddings and birthday parties. From here we went to the Catholic Cathedral renamed Notre Dame, but we arrived early. It closes for lunch so we walked across the street to the post office to kill time. The post office is the size of a generous train station. All services you could want are provided from posting your mail to buying souvenirs, making international phone calls, or buying a vending machine drink.

Being called a cathedral one would expect some pomp and flash, but this was a plain church with small grottoes dedicated to different saints. Strangely, the statues had halogen lights around them with electric halos. Our last stop was a lacquer making factory where we were able to see products go from raw wood through all of the processes needed to make it a finished product. The best part of this was that it was a workshop for the handicapped, so seeing a dozen wheelchairs parked to the side while people applied tiny bits of eggshells onto painted wood was a bright light.

This had ended our tour of Ho Chi Minh City. We hope you have enjoyed yourselves and if you have please remember the driver and I wish you a wonderful New Year. Ugh! I need a nap.

My Internet luck ran out. We went to the WiFi café, but they had an Internet blackout and could not get it fixed in the forty-five minutes we waited.

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Mack the Tuk-Tuk Driver

There is nothing about this hotel that has not charmed us. The services are excellent, the room has plenty of room, and the television gets over 50 channels, one of which is BBC, so we were able to get Iowa caucus news. The furniture is good quality, not cheap junk and the mattresses are superb.

Breakfast is included, so I was able to get an omelet with a roll and coffee. The amount of butter was nearly humorous that for such a tiny bit they would bother dirtying a dish. Ron asked for some jam and it is 2 cents extra. No complaints, it is just a funny cultural difference.

At 9:00 am, while we were eating, our bicycle tuk-tuk driver was waiting outside for us, like a puppy waiting for a scrap from the table. We were the scraps he wanted. We had arranged for 10:00, but he must have been fearful we would skip out on him. He most likely was casing the place guarding all of our escape routes. We went out to tell him we had to rearrange our hotel in Ho Chi Minh City; Ron had the dates wrong and we were scheduled to check-in today. The reception was kind enough to call and make the changes. He was happy to wait for us and he had a friend with him. There was no way the two of us would last in one tuk-tuk for a long distance ride without one or both of us either falling out or becoming crippled along the way.

We asked our main ‘driver’ his name three times, but each time, neither of us could understand what he said, but is sounded something like Mack. Between us, this is what we called him. He has a stuttering problem in English and in Vietnamese. Watching his face when he is speaking his mother tongue, you can see he struggles at times, his head goes downward and his face contorts. Regardless, we were off to the mountain and the temples. We agreed on 80,000 Dong each since we had two ‘drivers’.

Riding a regular bicycle with someone sitting on the bar is plenty of exertion, but to have a cart attached with a 6 foot 1 inch man adding weight is enough to make me want a rest just thinking about it. For him, it was effortless and we sped through town to go tell it on the mountain over the river and through the water buffalo fields, through hill and dale. The ride was approximately twenty minutes long before he parked his vehicle and said we would walk from here. Here was an area filled with temples, Buddhist temples. As we entered the first temple, I put my cigarette out and was able to take my shoes off to enter, but Mack said not to bother. Unlike in Thailand and Cambodia, they do not remove their shoes when entering the temples. The caretaker was walking around smoking a cigarette, which shocked both of us, but Mack said in Vietnam you can smoke anywhere. I had an instant picture of a Catholic priest offering the Eucharist with a cigarette dangling from his mouth and started to chuckle.

Each of the temples was dazzling in its own way and Mack was great about explaining things to us. Many of the monk caregivers from each temple are buried within the temple and a memorial is set up for each of them. Photos were allowed in every temple except the main one. You could smoke in it, but not photograph it. One of the Buddhas looked like a Las Vegas night show, with a robe that lit up and behind his head a rotating color wheel of reds, oranges, and greens. We dubbed him the Elvis Buddha as irreverent as that may be, he did look entertaining, though from our western perspective, really tacky. Along with Buddha, there were female statues, which presumable were Kwan Yin. She is frequently portrayed as a slender woman in flowing white robes who carries a white lotus in her left hand, an abiding symbol of purity of heart and spirit. Some answers to our questions we received from Mack were incomprehensible and rather than embarrass him by asking him to repeat it multiple times. We had to piecemeal information we could understand.

Outside the largest temple, there was a little boy running around with a strange haircut. He had patches of hair on each side of the head, while the rest of his head was close to shaved. Mack explained that the family has dedicated him to the temple. The temple was an active place with dozens of people bringing in offerings, lighting incense and praying. It turns out that this is a normal day’s business and all of the surrounding shops sell flowers and baskets of food for people to buy for offerings in the temple. If I lived here, I would have to seriously look into Buddhism. A peaceful calm comes over me when I am in a temple.

We did not make it completely up the mountain as Mack has planned since the temples are less ornate as you climb higher, so it did not make much sense to go further when we have seen the best first. When reaching the bottom, we stopped for noodle soup. My pork noodle soup had kidney or liver in it and I was more than willing to share it with the two Chihuahuas running around the place.

On the ride back, we saw water buffalos grazing in front yards, houses on stilts, woman cooking from portable pots, and other cultural iconography making this country stand out from the rest and ultimately charming. We had Mack drop us off at the hotel, but he had convinced us we should take a boat ride to see fish farming, the only Muslim mosque in the area, and a small indigenous group of people who are silk weavers. We agreed to be picked up at 2:30 giving us a chance to get our butts back in shape before taking off again.

Mack was outside panting waiting our return by 2:00. We both managed to fit into his cart by facing each other and we took off to the dock. We boarded a boat, the three of us with the woman who was our captain. First stop was a fish farm. Interestingly, there are many houses that are built on stilts out on the river. The only access to them or from them is by boat, but whole families live here full time, usually fishermen. Some even have dogs, but I cannot figure how they walk it or train it for that matter.

The fish farm is one such building as the houses, but with racks for floors that are lifted up with thousands of fish kept confined. Mack fed them to show the tremendous reception they give for food. When they reach a certain size, they are transferred to another holding area, all the while kept in their native waters, the river.

The next stop was the silk weavers and for the life of us, we could not understand why these people were special. After many futile attempts, we gave us asking for an explanation we could understand. Where our boat docked, it was incredibly high getting from the boat to the dock. With my bad hip, it was impossible for me to lift my leg that high, so wanted Ron to go without me. Mack would not hear of this and I thought he was going to lift me himself, but being half my size, I am appreciative he did not try. I had to sit on the dock first and get up from there. Embarrassing moments are part of the game of travel.

In this community, all of the men wear sarongs, not pants. Within minutes, Ron had a sarong wrapped around him, a silk scarf around his neck and a hat on his head. In the time it took me to take his picture with both our cameras, I was being costumed also. Excellent craftsmanship, beautiful colors, but not something we would go around wearing in Hungary or the U.S. for that matter. With disappointed looks at their lack of a sale, we disrobed, said thanks for the chuckle and moved onward to the mosque in the area. All of the while, we were surrounded by fifteen little girls trying their best to get us to buy their waffles. They look like Belgium waffles, but have different fruits in them. Ron succumbed to one little girl unbeknownst to me, while I was promising I would buy 7 quarters of waffle for $1.00 from another little girl when we returned. I was hoping to shed her like dead fur.

When we returned from the mosque, my little parasite was ready to storm me for her dollar, having no other diversion than to wait for my return. When I looked for a dollar, I did not have one, only a ten and was not about to give it up expecting change. Her face was heartbreaking, so I gave her more than enough for two quarters of waffles and then gave her all of my change besides without expecting yet more goodies in return. She was still clearly disappointed. I seem to think she could not return home until her quota was filled for the day.

Yet another little one latched on to me and begged sorrowfully for me to buy from her too and would not take no for an answer. Just as we were going down the plank, another tourist was approaching and I suggested she try him instead. Like a mechanical robot, she changed direction and attention to target this newest victim.

After we headed back, we decided to walk around, so said our good-byes to Mack giving him his requested amount of money and a large tip besides. He was truly thankful. His plan is to ride for one more year and then leave the country to study English in Great Britain. We wish him luck.

Yearning for a good cup of coffee, we asked at the hotel for a recommendation. It was a distance away, but we walked needing to flex our muscles. The ‘good’ coffee is an individual French pot type device that sits over a glass. There are no lattes, so ordering a white coffee means the coffee drips into condensed milk. Aside from not being what I really want, it was tasty with the right amount of sweetness from the milk.

When I used the bathroom, the toilet was an American Standard brand. The lid on the tank was cracked and the toilet had no seat. The cracked lid with the brand name, conjured up metaphors in my mind about the broken American standards in the country now and especially with primaries starting to take place.

They tried overcharging us and we are not certain if it was an accident or not, but 10,000 Dong is a big mistake. Fortunately, they had left the menus on the table so I could show the waiter the costs of what we had and why the bill was wrong, because he did not speak English.

By the time we walked back to the hotel, the sidewalk restaurants and portable kitchens were invading any free space usually reserved for walking, so it was a dodge ‘em game with the traffic getting back.

For dinner, we decided to ask the desk clerk for a recommendation and he gave us three, each out of walking distance. Not surprisingly, there were two tuk-tuk drivers outside the hotel door pleading for business. We hired both of them to go to the first restaurant on the list. As a good sign, it was filled with locals and we were the only obvious foreigners there. As usual, I have problems finding things on a menu I can eat throughout Asia, because I am highly allergic to fish. That rules out not only the obvious fish, but all things cooked in fish sauce also, which is often the case with beef or pork dishes. I had three options on this menu; however, I could have ordered squid, frogs, snails or snake, but I am just not that adventurous before a major bus trip in the very near future. My beef with sesame was served with a salad. My rule of thumb is not to eat any fruit or vegetable that does not need to be peeled unless the menu specifies it was washed in pure water. Out of the salad, I ate the onions and cucumbers, left behind the lettuce and tomatoes.

Tomorrow, we leave for Ho Chi Minh City on a five hour bus ride on a bus without a bathroom. NPO (nothing by mouth) for me after 9:00 pm.

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Royal Treatment

The WiFi in the room is not working this morning. Was last night was a fluke or does it come on only later in the day; I will just have to check again later.

I am beginning to rethink the reasons for the hoses in the bathrooms. We have seen more and more toilets in restaurants and hotels with signs asking not to put any paper products into the toilet. The hoses may be to cut down on the toilet paper use.

Breakfast is included with this hotel and is served on the top floor, a vast room with no windows that overlooks the river. The wind was blowing furiously this morning, so breakfast was a hasty affair. They did have a cook making omelets along with six steam table dishes with Asian choices like mixed vegetables, fried noodles and rice porridge. The coffee tasted like it had chocolate in it, but it did nothing to make it desirable. I have to have a coffee in the morning. If need be, I can go without the entire day, but morning is a necessity.

There is a café at the end of the block of the hotel where the café latte is excellent. After my caffeine fortification, we went to the National Museum. It did not seem like something that would hold my attention, but if you don’t try, you never know. Tickets were $2.00 each and then another $1.00 for a photo ticket, but photos are restricted to the garden only. As many museums in different parts of the world, the national one revolves around the religion that has shaped the culture. This was no exception; most of the exhibits were based on Buddhism, a religion that entered my radar when we were in Thailand. I have had a healthy respect for it ever since. The museum was enthralling with intricate statues dating back to the 8^th and 9^th centuries.

As we entered various rooms, a woman would approach us with little flowers on a wood stick. There was a different Buddha statue in each of the rooms and a vase with sand waiting for us to place our offering in it. We happily complied and left little donations of money at each.

In the center garden, koi ponds reign with one decorating each corner and a statue of Buddha in the center. For some insignificant amount of money, you can buy food to feed the fish, but they looked like they have been well nourished. Some of them could have provided a meal for a family of four with a doggie bag thrown in.

We were going to go to the Royal Palace, but it closes for 2 ½ hours for lunch, so we did too. After walking beyond it we were approached by a bright ten year old girl peddling water, who captivated us with her English skills. After a promise to buy water from her when we returned to the palace, she made us read the sayings on her pink hat so that we could be sure we were dealing with the right little girl when we returned. After repeating the slogans on her cap “Kiss me”, “Love Me” and “Hot Forever” she released us from custody. We really should have bought her a new beanie that was age appropriate.

Lunch sounded like a good idea and we found a little restaurant, one amongst three, that served personal sized pizzas for $1.50. They had some English newspapers, so we burrowed in and read the news of the world in English, rather than a daily dose of BBC which has been available almost everywhere we have stayed. When we returned to the palace, our little pink Madonna was waiting for us with two bottle of water ready for purchase for $1.00. Who could resist such charm?

When one thinks of Cambodia, royalty does not come to mind, at least not for me. I guess it does for many others. The line for tickets to get into the palace grounds was a long one, but it moved fast. For $3.00 each, we were given a booklet and map of the grounds with unlimited photo privileges except in certain buildings like the Royal Reception building. The king’s residence was off limits. What we found out is that the king and queen were exiled during the Khmer Rouge times, when they went to China to live. After the overthrow of the KR, the king who is in his early 80s and the queen returned, but he abdicated to his son. His son is in his forties and unmarried.

The palace grounds are what you would expect of royalty, but here Buddha reigns king. There are Buddha statues and chapels all over the ground. The royal reception room was stunningly beautiful, but of course, no photos were allowed. The royal gardens were immense, but all roads leading to them were closed to the public, so we could only view them from the periphery. A number of other buildings were closed off too, but still plenty to see and be in awe over.

On the way back to the hotel, we stopped at a travel agency to find out about the trip to Chau Doc, Vietnam for tomorrow. We were informed there were two types of boats making the trip, one slow for a seven hour trip and one fast one taking a measly four hours. The most expensive was $12.00 each. My vote went for the fast boat to shave off the three hours. We would have to get to the dock via tuk-tuk at an added cost. When we went back to the hotel, Ron wanted to check with their travel desk. The manager is a Cambodian-American who convinced us that American guests who have done the trip in reverse have had nothing but complaints. They said they had to sit on the top deck, could not move about, and the diesel fumes were suffocating. He convinced us to book the slow boat for the fantastic scenery, the ability to walk around deck, take photos along the way, and sales pitch, and sales pitch. We bit the bait and paid $28.00 each providing us with a driver for the two hour drive to the dock where the boat leaves from and then the boat to Chau Doc. We were told we would need to be ready to leave at 6:00 am. No breakfast for us. It starts at 6:00. P.T. Barnum said there is a sucker born every minute, but he forgot to add that some suckers are repeat customers.

For dinner, we were going to try the Foreign Correspondents Club, recommended in the guide book. After one look at the menu, we said sorry and left. The prices must be meant for correspondents on an expensive account. Our next choice was the Bali Café right next to our hotel at 379 Street Preah Sisowath Telephone 023-982-211 e-mail royalalita@camintel.com. Soothingly decorated with batiks on the walls, it is open to the river with a second higher level of seating augmenting the seating. With a table on the river side, we ordered from the a la carte menu, which was a mistake. I started with a coconut soup with chicken and vegetables, but also ordered vegetables with a garlic sauce and a pork dish. Each dish was more than substantial and could have been a meal unto itself. The blends of spices in each dish were superb and this restaurant is highly recommended. With our two large beers and six dishes, the bill came to $18.00 for both of us.

When we returned to the Royal Khmer hotel, we were told that the time for the boat has changed to 6:50 am, so we could have breakfast first, but please be ready to leave by 6:50. Another demerit added. When we returned to the room, the WiFi was again working.

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