5 July 2012 ~ The Road from Saigon

Listening to: Bob Dylan ~ You're A Big Girl Now (Blood on the Tracks)


I decided to stay an extra day in Ho Chi Mihn City and do a day trip. My guides name is Doung (pronounced like "Young"). He has been a travel guide for 11 years and has been to the USA at the invitation of a California State Senator from Ventura county.

The difference between HCMC and Hanoi is the predominance of the Vietnam War (or from their viewpoint the American War) and the impact it had on the people and the land.

My hotel was across the street from the former American Embassy compound, where the American staff was airlifted out on helicopters with the fall of Saigon. There is not a plaque or any indication, although it was torn down and rebuilt as the American Consultant, but shares a compound with France.

My day trip was to go to the a temple and Viet Cong tunnels, but more on that later...

As we were driving, Doung noticed there were a lot of buses going to the tunnels, so we switched it up and decided to go to the temple first, but this also meant we had some extra time.

He asked if I wanted to stop for a coffee, and so we did at a nice open roadside cafe.

Before going in a man selling "cakes" came by and Doung bought some, saying they reminded him of his hometown.

The cakes are made from sticky rice and have green bean paste inside. One kind was coated in sesame seeds and the other in powdered sugar.

Over coffee Doung told me about the impact of the American War on his life directly (he's a few years younger than me at most). 

His grandmother's house had a bomb dropped on it and she lost both her legs.

His mother was forced to flee the Viet Cong while she was pregnant with his older sister, and during the flee became so thirsty that she drank the first thing she came across, which ended up being kerosene. Luckily the villagers got her immediate help and both her and the baby were fine.

As a child he often only had one bowl of rice to eat, and the rest was tapioca, so his growth was stunted and he is only 1.48 meters tall. This prevents him from getting a drivers license.

His family had to collect bone and bomb fragments to earn money.

His neighbors collected undetonated bombs to get the tnt from them in order to use it to throw into the river to kill the fish to make it easier to catch them. Of the 7 family members, all but his school friend were killed when the bomb went off during the process, and his family ran next door to see the dismembered friends.

After the war his father was put in a prison camp (he supported the Saigon government) for two years and was never the same.

Then he mentioned that we were across the street from the home of "napalm girl". She no longer lives in Vietnam but her family is still living in this house.

The picture that was taken of her was at the site of this this lamp post.