Seeing Saigon

Beautiful colonial architecture, good food, war memorabilia off the wazoo, the Mekong river, friendly people, warm balmy weather, a million motorcycles, no traffic lights. This is Saigon. Or what is aptly known as Ho Chi Minh City. I personally prefer the name, Saigon. Having spent a week there, I would head back in a heartbeat. I love Vietnamese food...a cross between Thai and Chinese, not too spicy, not too oily! Having eaten at many such restaurants in San Francisco, I was excited to chow down a storm where it all originated. The coffee here is much like what I grew up drinking and hence, I couldn't get enough of. My favorite purchase is one of those quaint metal single french presses I'd seen so many times in Vietnamese restaurants back in SF. OK, that and my Sommerkind red leather ballerina shoes I'd hunted for through my travel from Europe to Asia in the last year.

One cannot escape visiting HCMC without running into historical sightings of the war that tore through Vietnam. It made me intensely curious to learn why Americans were there in the first place. Perhaps it's one of the reasons tourists flock there...and so I did visit the CuChi tunnels, a series of underground network dug out by the Viet Cong, which inadvertently defeated the GI's. One had to be quite tiny to crawl through these tunnels, and be able to withstand immense heat and humidity. I've yet to fully comprehend this war, but thanks to my Uncle Mick, I now have a fairly good picture of history...all the way back to the Roman empire!

I didn't have any specific agenda in visiting HCMC...but I knew it would spark my interest in learning the history of this region, plus I'd get to eat one of my favorite ethnic foods! Travelling through Asia had been one of my "big plans" in this year off work, which is sadly coming to a close. Often, I'd hear from friends and meet people back in SF who'd seen more of Asia than I ever had (nevermind the fact that my first time on a plane was at 18 heading to college in America!) So, I've spent these last several months to discover and learn more about this part of the world I grew up in. It's funny how the locals commented how I looked like one of them, whether I was in Cambodia or Vietnam! I know that will be the case when I head to Phillipines in ten days. I know ever more so now too, how lucky I was to have grown up in Malaysia, sans the racism that still abounds today, where there is hardly any remnants of war. My Dad grew up during the Japanese occupation and hardly likes to tell stories of that era. But we didn't have masses of people being tortured or killed, whether by fellow country men, or conquerors.

People must be crazy...and sometimes, I do wonder if religion makes us so. Many wars have been fought in the name of God...or Allah. Obviously, even till today. In Vietnam, I had the opportunity to visit the CaiDai temple, where multi religions converge under one roof. In the temple's main altar, the figurines of Kwan Yin, Buddha, the 3 Gods of Taoism - the Hock Lock Siew dudes, Jesus Christ and Lao Tsu all sit staring down at the congregation and many tourists alike. What a brilliant concept! I'm just wondering why Shiva isn't up there as well. Apparently, my mom says he is present at a local Chinese temple near our house. But I suppose to be fair, if Shiva or Rama and Buddha can share temples, then Allah could also probably be there. I hope I don't get questioned by the Muslim Syariah police here -- good thing I'm heading out'a here! Adios!