Phở For One

24th april, 2:30pm:  

checked into A & Em hotel on Ly Tu Trong Road.

after booking a half day tour to cu chi tunnels for the next day, i grabbed a city map along with my list of must-sees, must-eats, and of course, must-drinks and headed out.  

few things you'll quickly learn about traffic rules.  

1.  the value of pedestrian crossings is purely aesthetic.  

2.  traffic lights for pedestrians:  

red     =  go if you're feeling lucky

green = go if you're feeling lucky

you can't help but feel embarrassed waiting for the traffic to lighten up, because it won't.

or worse still, if you wait for the red man to turn green.

the risk of the tidal wave of motorcyclists crashing into you might seem high but oddly enough, the safer and perhaps the only way of crossing the street is to play god, almost like moses in the passage of the red sea. trust it, the sea WILL part.

hold on to some faith, and freakin' move!

just DON'T, fucking stop.  

after aimlessly walking down the road from the hotel for about 15 minutes, i decided to settle down somewhere to calm my nerves and start mapping out the best route.  

ok fine, i wanted a drink.

paul, the only expat patron at that time of the day recommended the usual sites.  4 wines and 3 single-malts later, he helped me check some items on my list.

mot hai ba yo! = 1, 2, 3, cheers!

8pm:  parliament house.  on the way to another bar.  

i had the rex hotel on my list.  the rooftop garden bar boasts a good view of the city.

we got into the elevator.  paul pressed 5.

me:  erm... i read that you can get a good view of the city from the rooftop bar?

paul:  yes, it is known for that.  comparable to singapore's orchard road.

me: erm... 5th floor????

the view: dong khoi road. 

me:  this is it?  this is the view?

paul:  you have to remember, about 10 years ago, that, that, and that... weren't there.

next stop:  saigon saigon bar in caravelle hotel.   

paul's mates.  jack and michael.  that's what i've been calling them at least.

they weren't surprised.

dead ringers for jack nicholas and michael douglas.  

7am the next morning:  pho bo and vietnamese coffee. 

ben thanh market.  taken from the tour bus.

the tour guide, jackie, 58, vietnam war survivor, asked for our names.

jackie:  where are you from?

me:  singapore

jackie:  many many people from singapore.  what's your name?

me:  mar...j..oskdfhf  

(hesitating... i wasn't in the mood to repeat my name, spell it, bear with the ignorant teasing... like i almost always have to with new people)

jackie:  what?  mah-rie?

me:  yes.  (whatever)  

jackie:  my name is jackie.  but you all can't say my real name, so i call myself jackie.

me:  (i know how he feels)  but what is it?  

jackie:  ngauc (not the exact spelling of course)

me:  oh ok.

jackie:  see, i told you you can't say it.  

(i thought i was the only one who mocked people for not getting my name.  after awhile, he asked for everyone's names again.  i decided to say my name loud and clear this time.)

me:  MAR-JO-RIE

jackie:  oh, marjorie.  that's a french name.

(that's the last time i underestimate anyone.)

some random stories from jackie:

-i used to be in the navy during the vietnam war.  2nd lieutenant.  i'm a survivor.  you know, you look around.  (points to the road)  how many old people you see.  not many.  all die in the war.  you see all young people, women, and many many babies.  during the war, all die.  only young people left.    

-you look around (points again)  do you see anybody walking?  not many people walk in ho chi minh.  everybody on motorbike.  people don't walk.  people travel go to the shop, 100 meters, take bike.  my wife, 25 meters, take bike.  

-and i'm sorry, i'm sure you notice, drivers always honk.  they get into the car, they honk.  before they drive, they honk.  the whole time they honk.  so the city is very noisy.  but you must know, if they don't honk, they kill people.  many motorcyclists.  in singapore or america, you honk, they shoot you!  here, you don't honk, you kill people.  today we go to cu chi, on the bus, 3 hours.  we can't go faster.  we go faster, we kill people. 

-we stop for petrol now.  1 liter of diesel, 10,000 dong (S$1).  1 liter petrol, 12,000 dong.

-vietnam's population.  87 million.  vietnamese women make one million babies a year.  i have 14 siblings.  my uncle have 21 children.  but now, no more.  people stop at 2.  i have 2 children.  not enough money.  in ho chi minh, there are poor people, working class, and upper class.  i'm considered as working class.  (how much do you earn, someone asked.)  my salary?  US$210.  

-before we go to cu chi tunnels, we make one stop.  it's an art factory.  during the war, there is chemical warfare.  a lot of people lose their legs.  a lot of deformities.  some of them become artists.   

more breakfast?  

an egg shell painting workstation.

the finished products for sale

cu chi tunnels

jackie:  you step here, you die.  (and he flips the trap with the bamboo)

all:  GASP!

jackie:  you still don't die, 8 cobras inside.

jackie:  (to one of the girls)  why you scream?  it's only a millipede.  

(i've never seen one 8 inches long, 1/2 inch in diameter though)

jackie:  come here.  what do you all see?

(didn't look any different from the rest of the jungle to me.  he clears the grass to expose the rock next to him.)

jackie:  ventilation for the tunnel

alright, that's enough.  i don't know how the soldiers did it.  

jackie:  i ask you a question.  if you turn left, you reach the river, turn right, you die.  vietcong put booby trap on the right.  so i ask you, if you go in, do you turn left or right?

me:   er... left? 

jackie:  you?  you?  you?

all:  left.

jackie:  you all, die.

all:  ????

jackie:  12-6pm, traps on the right, 6pm-12 on the left. (i forgot the exact times)

all:  !!!!

jackie:  if you forget, too bad, you die.

jackie:  you step inside, you die. 

jackie:  you miss the first one, many many more.  sure you die.

(he shows us an even simplier booby trap.  rectangular frame with a few barbs.  approximately 6x8 inches)  this you put on the ground.  very simple.  small.  how many people you think this can kill?

all:  one?  (i mean, how many feet can that trap take?)

jackie:  this can kill 8 people, or maybe more.  

all:  ???

jackie:  soldiers walk in a single file.  one person steps on it, the others will come and help him.  they try to help to get him out... bomb!  under the trap.

jackie:  door trap swings down at unsuspecting victim.  you see there are 2 parts to the trap.  separate connecting trap on the pendulum.  you think you can hold the trap before it swings at you?  of course you can.  (he demonstrates.  he successfully holds the trap back, but the lower half of the trap continues to swing up.)  you see, you can stop it, sure!  but your balls get it.

a typical underground weapon building workshop.

jackie:  you know how long it takes to build one?

all:  (murmuring) one day?  two days?  3 days?

jackie:  3 weeks. 

one of the tour mates:  what would be in the wooden cup?

jackie: they have to keep pouring chemical (i forgot what it was) to prevent it from exploding.  you don't pour, you die.  if these men die, it's ok.  no problem.  BUT!  BUT!  there's a woman there.  (and he points to the next wax figure, shown below.)

jackie:  come come.  

(we circled him as he took a piece of paper out from his wallet and carefully unfolded it)

you know this picture? (above) very very famous picture during the war.  

(we all nodded.)

4 days after this picture was taken, 4 days... i was sitting with a friend.  he was also in the army.  i ask him, "you throw the bomb in trang bang village?"  he say (shrugs shoulders) i don't know.

all:  what do you mean he doesn't know?

jackie:  yes, i ask him, you on the plane 4 days ago.  think, 4 days ago, you drop the bomb in this village?  he still say i don't know, i don't remember.  then he think for awhile, he try to remember, then he say maybe.  i ask him, why you bomb the village?  you know you're not supposed to bomb the village.  he say... i don't know, i don't remember.

jackie:  one man digs tunnel with a simple hand tool.  but one person, cannot.  you need 3 people to dig tunnel.  3.  

jackie:  second one picks up the dirt, 3rd one throw dirt.

B52 bomb crater.

jackie:  you see the leaves?  see already?

me:  er... no.  (what's so fascinating about that dump?)

jackie:  come come.

jackie:  see, smoke from the cooking.  everything underground.  the kitchen is also underground.  smoke come out here.

all:  ahhhh....

jackie:  this is bamboo.  thin one, is weapon.  kill people.  behind, bigger bamboo.  for ventilation shafts.   

jackie:  another one of my friends.  his wife was crying.  she asked him, why you bomb that place?  you know my parents are there.  they died.  why you kill them?  he said, "i'm sorry, i couldn't see."

*********************************************************

how much does it cost to join a tour for the city sights? US$90.

fuck it, i'll struggle with my map.  

parliament house.  

left: opera house. 

right: caravelle hotel

saigon river.  what's she selling.  she caught me looking.

sesame prawn cracker i think. 

what, no bag?  no napkin?  alright on my lap it is.

notre dame cathedral.

central post office.

 

bo bia = vietnamese rice paper spring roll. 

vietnamese version of the salami sandwich.

spring roll.  stuffed with.. er... meat.

drip, drip, drip... hurry up, i don't have all day.

sorry auntie, can't sit in this heat.

tasted like minced pork satay.

final hours in the city:  couldn't stomach anymore street food.  

the sunny side: it's my last meal in the city. 

waiting for my flight home with a brioche and a grande americano.  

traveling solo can be intimidating at times, but definitely not what i thought it would be, boring.  au contraire, i took more acute notice of my environments and gained a little sense of direction.  (even if it meant referring to my map every 10 seconds.)

hmmm... now, which way is hanoi?