Here today, Saigon tomorrow

"Vietnam used to be a poor country but today we are a developing country" explained Dong, our tour guide, this morning on the bus ride to the Cu Chi tunnels. I think he summed it up perfectly.

As Americans visiting Southeast Asia for the first time, I think we're pulled between the demons of our own country's past here and our present love of the culture and food from this region that reaches us in New York. Amanda's first job in Brooklyn was as a waitress at Mekong, an excellent Vietnamese restaurant, and I spent every Sunday night sitting at the bar, munching on rice noodles with spring rolls, waiting for her shift to finish. So to come all the way here for the real thing is a real treat. I don't know why I wasn't expecting to have to deal with the rest of if it as well - the relatively recent history of the war, the transition from poverty to commerce, agricultural to industrial, and the generally mixed looks we seem to get from people on the street.

"In Saigon, we have no metro - no subway," Dong told us. He continued, "for us, the motorbike is important. If you have bike, you have everything. Girlfriend, job, life. Without bike, you have nothing."

No kidding:

We arrived on Christmas day, which merely punctuated sentence being served: this is a country in transition. Although Saigon does have a Catholic district (and its own Notre Dame Cathedral), one gets the feeling that Christmas is a relatively new mainstream phenomenon here. As my dad always said, the way to conquer a nation is to drop televisions on them, and it seems that's ultimately what happened here.

Stephanie arranged most of our (thus far) excellent itinerary, and somehow found the An An hotel. I say "somehow found" because it's definitely not the kind of place that jumps off the map. Situated on a bustling side-street in "District 1" - the An An almost feels like a store-front at first. The lobby is barely indoors, and the action on the street spills into the reception area. It's great.

We wandered in the area a bit and knocked around in the giant nearby market (where you can get a Bun Noc Leo for 30,000 Vietnamese Dong, which in addition to being the name of our guide, is also the unit of currency here). Amanda's immediate commentary: "we are very popular - everyone wants to talk to us!" As in "madame, look here! Hello miss, you like new dress?" Also, she noticed that the market vendors had no trouble touching her as if they were long lost friends, grabbing onto her elbows or touching her shoulder with familiar ease.

We eventually made our way to the soft shell crab restaurant recommended by Brad's friend Ben, an American who has been living in Hanoi for years. (We'll meet him next week.) Our cab dropped us off in front of the restaurant, and immediately we discovered that there were two places right next door to one another, both with exactly the same name and basically the same menu. What to do? Just as we were being seated in one joint, Ben called Brad. We explained the question, and Ben told us we chose the wrong place. So we got up, walked next door to the other crab shack, and handed the cellphone to the waitress who nodded and smiled as Ben ordered crab dishes for us remotely. He literally phoned in the order. Food started coming and we were not disappointed.The ride home was...intense and beautiful in a kind of life threatening way:
This morning we awoke in time to take a walk in the neighborhood and pick up an Banh Mi on the corner.
The scene on the street was bustling.

We eventually found our tour bus...

...and met Dong.

Amanda found her shop.

Before the tour of the Cu Chi tunnels began, Dong gave us a short lecture on the geography of the area and the strategic importance of these tunnels during the war.

The whole thing was actually very impressive. The technology used to fight against the American military was really very basic, but ingenious and extremely effective.


Part of the tour includes the opportunity to fire a weapon, and after some uneasiness, we decided to do it. You can choose your weapon, and Brad was quite insistent that we fire an AK47, the "people's revolutionary gun". I had never fired a gun before and I admit, I was a bit nervous.

Amanda seemed more comfortable with the whole thing. Frankly, I'll sleep better at night from now on, knowing that my wife has the face of an angel and the soul of a warrior.

We then crawled through one of the tunnels.

And finally! We got to the food.

Which was prepared over an open flame by this woman - a stark contrast to the kitchen of Mekong restaurant in Brooklyn where Amanda once worked.

A final thought before dinner: Saigon is in need of sidewalks.

More tomorrow.