On May 27, my friend D celebrated his 42nd birthday by going on a trip to Ho Chi Minh City (otherwise known as Saigon), a place he has never seen before. Having nothing better to do (one of the realities lived by a freelance worker), I tagged along. We planned to make this a photographic tour of the city. This turned out to be an adventure, in many unexpected ways.
First, we almost missed our bus. I waited for almost 10 minutes outside D's house. The bus company had 2 stations, and they're quite far apart from each other. I asked our ride to take us to the main station but D reminded me that when he picked up his sister last year, he did it at the other bus station. So we went to the other station and it was empty. We asked the staff to call the main bus station but we were told that the bus already left. The
tuktuk chased the bus for about 5 kilometers before it stopped. This chase was punctuated with frantic phone calls to the driver and conductor--both of whom spoke little English.
I don't pretend to know HCMC like the back of my hand, but I was prepared to show D the sights which are familiar to me. My plan was to spend the next day on foot: walking along Pasteur Street, where we can pass by some of the must-see sights in the city such as Ben Tanh market, the city museum, war museum, Notre Dame cathedral, the Post Office, and the Opera House, among others.
So early the next day, cameras on hand, D and I set out from our hotel. I am posting the photos in my other blog, Ways of Seeing. You can check
this link to the photos. In the meantime, let me regale you (or bore you to tears) with the highlights of this interesting trip. I hope my statement that this trip was an adventure didn't cause you, dear reader, to have lofty expectations. The adventures D and I had were not of the swash-buckling kind (swish? I'm not sure) but they were fun--at least to us.
Anyway, enough of the disclaimers. It should also be noted that our walking trip was guided by a 2-year-old map of the city.
D was most impressed by the architecture of many of the houses and buildings in Saigon. He admitted he didn't expect to see buildings that he liked. We walked by Ben Tanh Market, which was a much-cleaner version of the Tuol Tom Pong Market here in Phnom Penh. Top on D's agenda was to see the War Museum, upon the recommendation of his American wife. I wasn't particularly keen on seeing it (being a believer in flower power) but I was just tagging along this trip so I was willing to give way. We had a hell of a time finding it, though. First we ended up in the City Musuem, which was fine and a bit tourist-y, to tell the truth.
Our planned route was to hit the farthest point of Pasteur Street, which would take us to Tan Dinh Cathedral, then we planned to hit the War Musuem before going to the loop that had the Notre Dame Cathedral, Post Office, and the Opera House. But as with most best-laid plans, things didn't happen this way.
Case in point: contrary to the map, the Tan Dinh Cathedral is no longer a cathedral. It has been a market, for how long, we don't know. The biblical connection was too apparent to ignore. From a place of worship to a place of commerce. I can still remember that parable taught to me in catechism. Fortunately, the Notre Dame Cathedral was a delight. I entered a real church again after so many years. We almost heard mass and chatted with the Vietnamese priest. I even gave (and received) a rosary as a gift. The last time this happened to me was more than 15 years ago.
Like I said, the War Museum was a challenge to find using our old map. And when we found it, I found the place grim and grisly (big surprise). There is a clear anti-American bias that permeates the place. This is not misplaced, though. The Vietnam War, up to now, is a controversial and divisive event in history. While it is true that Americans were indeed indiscriminate in cruelty to what-they-perceived as their enemies, I think that the Vietnamese were equally cruel to the Americans as well. I mean, it's war; everybody is cruel in a war. What the museum showed me--more like validated, actually, was that in a war, nobody really wins. Or, even if one side claims victory, this victory is Phyrric, at best.
For some reason, we also missed the City Hall. The map is not entirely to blame here. Though it doesn't appear on the map, it was in the same loop as the Opera House. I completely forgot about it, probably because I was thinking of watching a movie at Diamond Plaza (which we didn't do also).
D and I had dinner at a restaurant facing the Opera House, where the slightly pricey food was just about the same quality as the food in the restaurant in the backpackers' area. We had a good lunch at Jollibee, though. I missed eating there because (1) there's nothing like it in Phnom Penh, and (2) I avoided fast food for the last year. We got back to the hotel a bit rained on, feet tired, but fulfilled nonetheless.
Like true and consummate (read: stereotypical) tourists, D and I spent the next morning at Ben Tanh Market shopping (not much) and packing for the afternoon trip to Phnom Penh. Perhaps inspired by almost-missing the bus coming, we arrived at the bus station an hour early. By Friday evening, D and I were back in our adopted city, our CF cards brimming with photos, our minds relaxed and recharged from the quick holiday, our lives enriched by the whole experience.
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