Vietnam Travelogue – Week One

Coronavirus is trying to take over the planet, but it wasn’t always that way. Just six weeks ago, we rubbed shoulders with strangers and explored without fear of contagion. This week, the Five Backpacks Family is offering excerpts from our journal during travels through Vietnam back in February, to call into remembrance the way things were. Perhaps by remembering, we can focus on the possibility of the world being safe once again.

Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City 

If you are like me, on a morning steeped thickly in jet lag and an existential brew I like to call ’24-hour travel-day tea’, the last place you want to wake up is a hot and humid city grinding with the sound of scooters, cement saws, air compressors, trash compactors, sirens, and other sensory overload devices numbering in the millions. Welcome to Saigon! 

In 1975 this Southern Vietnam hub was renamed “Ho Chi Minh City,” but folks still seem to call it Saigon, especially in the downtown area. That was fine by me—I grew up on the show eponymously named, and was excited to connect what I’ve learned of Vietnam’s past (not just from musical theatre but from history books, as well) with the state of the country today. Our two weeks ended up running quite the gamut of emotions and experiences. Read on!

In search of shade and good spirits after only a few hours of post-flight and post-visa-catastrophe sleep (to read about that drama click here), we headed to the nearest and largest green rectangle on our map—the Saigon Botanical Gardens. At the entrance gate, I became suspicious and skeptical. Our green garden oasis was mainly a zoo. Alert! Last year, I suffered the guilt of unknowingly supporting a small zoo at an ethnographic museum in the steppes of central Siberia, where the bear was literally banging his head against the bars of his three-meter by five-meter cage. I’m ashamed to admit that at the present moment in Saigon, however, escaping the confines of my headache beat out better judgment. So, we bought tickets for a low, low price and entered the graciously quiet park, allowing the aforementioned shade to settle on us like a well worn favorite hat.

Well, in terms of animal welfare, the zoo was far from perfect, but it did exceed my expectations. There was enough room for the animals to move around a bit, but not many places for them to hide. Most had the outward appearance of health, but some were quite scraggly. A few looked relaxed and playful, but others seemed to be trying to get out. I think zoos can be a good idea because they encourage people to connect with animals, to become educated, and take an interest in their welfare. Over time, humans have continued to devise ways to accomplish this goal without torturing the poor creatures quite so much. (for more thoughts on better alternatives to zoos, read our elephant sanctuary post) Hopefully, Saigon is continuing on this upward track. The old tiger enclosure, as positive evidence to the point, was the size of a large American master bathroom, and now serves only as a photo opp. The operating enclosure, meanwhile, is five to ten times more expansive. It’s a start. 

From the zoo, it was easy to find a cafe to serve up a bit of refreshment, Vietnamese style—fresh fruit juice, and a baguette sandwich with fried eggs. It was a tasty blend of culture, enjoyed while pondering a bizarre exhibit of the French legacy here—on the wall was a poster of Napoleon Bonaparte, sitting astride a rearing white stallion and underlined by text that I suppose was something famous he said. I can’t be sure because it was in Vietnamese! 

Next, we went to the Vietnam History Museum near the zoo. Through a respectable collection of artifacts, we picked up a bit about many facets of Vietnamese history, including traditions in different ethnic tribes, the drastic changes under a millennium of Chinese rule, and the influence of Hinduism (demarcated by a couple of large lingams [look that one up if you aren’t in the know] that brought up some lively questions from the kids). We also learned, through charming dioramas at boy-eye-level, how battles were fought during civil wars and foreign invasions—the Vietnamese fended off not one, not two, but three Mongol campaigns! There was even a beautifully preserved mummy; is that a contradiction in terms?

The most treasured experience at this museum, however, was the water puppet show. Remember, our brains were working with jet lag attention spans on this day, so the typical inanimate objects of a carefully curated collection had to work especially hard to engage us. Ah! An opportunity to sit down in the shade (still 100 degrees, but at least not in direct, glaring sunlight) to watch a bit of classic Vietnamese culture splash around to music. Fantastic! The boys grinned and laughed aloud! There are a few opportunities throughout the country to see traditional water puppetry in action, and I like to think that we stumbled on the cheapest, most laid-back, and delightfully entertaining way.

More Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City 

The day before, we walked the wrong darned way. It seemed that a city with alluring repute like Saigon should be more fun to explore. But we had only found crowded, congested, stench-ridden streets. Despite our pleasant zoo and museum experiences, the city-scape itself was less than inspiring. Was there a better way?

On this day, fortunately, we walked the opposite direction and came to an expansive pedestrian mall, where the lunacy of Saigon streets yields to the pursuit of a stroll. This grand stretch of pavement was once a canal that brought trade into the heart of the city. Now it is filled in, and we parents delighted in the walk’s fine art galleries, full of classic Vietnamese visages that are layered both boldly and subtly on enormous canvases. The kids would probably argue that the highlight was the fresh mango from the street vendor and the scoops of gelato on rainbow-sprinkled waffle cones. Either way, we were all happy. 

Our first destination along the thoroughfare was the Thap Bitexco Financial Tower, where you can pay a non-trivial fee to go to the observation deck and see the city from a 360-degree birdseye view. Delightfully air-conditioned and quiet, this is a great way to understand the layout of the city and plan your itinerary for the day. As if hovering in the air weren’t enough, there was even a movie playing on loop to educate us about the traditional Vietnamese dress, the Ao Dai. The boys were thrilled! (Tee hee).

We opted for lunch at a nearby vegan restaurant called Nhà Hàng Chay Mãn Tự. My favorite experience of the day! The place was tiny, and we were the only foreigners who came to partake in a twenty-dish, all-you-can-eat buffet of riotous color and flavor. Best of all, it was so packed that we needed to spread out to sit at three different tables, which led to the honor of conversing with the other patrons. At the end of the meal, something I’ve never before encountered—rather than a bill, we were asked to “pay what we were able” into a cash collection box. Communism? Buddhism? Hippies? I dropped in the suggested contribution, a veritable song for the feast it was. 

From there, we continued along the pedestrian mall to marvel at the statue of a victorious Ho Chi Minh, who stands in front of the French-colonial style city hall—if you attended American public schools, we will forgive you for not knowing that France colonized most of Southeast Asia. If necessary, we will further forgive you for not knowing that Vietnam is in Southeast Asia. And if also necessary, we will forgive you for not knowing that Ho Chi Minh fought to free his country from the constraints of French imperialism and establish the current communist government. The US initially supported him (being anti-colonialist) and later fought against him (being even more anti-communist). It’s complicated.

Once again, in search of some shelter from the heat of the day, we carried on to the large patch of trees we spotted just behind this structure—the sumptuous grounds buffering Independence Palace from Saigon’s bustling drone. Upon entering the gate, we wiped the sweat from our eyes to see what we could learn at the Civic Center, called Văn Phòng Chính Phủ Hội Trường Thống Nhất.

The building houses a tiny museum, but we soaked in a substantial amount of history in those few rooms, regarding both Saigon and Vietnam as a whole. The exhibits center mainly on the period from French colonial rule until the assassination of President Ngô Đình Diệm in 1963. There were two very graphic photos of self-immolating monks and the slit throat of Diệm, so be prepared for some awkward questions if you have your children along with you.

“Mama, what does self-immolation mean?”

It was a really full day; full of emotion, heat, noise, sewage smells, confusion (and let’s not forget the waffle cone). To ease up a bit, we decided to test out Saigon’s famed international food scene with a search for familiar foods: namely, pasta. Dinner that night was at an Italian restaurant. (One day in Southeast Asia, and we were already craving the dairy products we left behind in New Zealand). The boys were so tired that Seth nearly fell asleep with his face in the gnocchi! We were impressed though, by the signature dish—a bolognese made table-side, by pouring hot ingredients right into the center of an enormous cheese wheel and vigorously scraping. Have you ever seen that before?

Nha Trang

Grateful for the lessons of the city, but even more grateful to leave it behind, we boarded a train and headed north for Nha Trang in the morning. If we were in search of a complete change of pace—and we were—we found it in Nha Trang. It is a beach resort town used primarily by Russians to turn their Siberian winter blues into bright, sunburn red. If you read our post about how no-one in Russia smiles, you will understand the following opinion: I honestly believe that many Vietnamese people returned my smiles hundredfold because they are smile starved by serving all of these stern, I’m-so-sexy folks from way up north. It was a strange vibe.

Nevertheless, we unwittingly found ourselves in a beach resort town, so we tried our best to play along. According to Leo, we picked “the total best hotel in the world,” which I interpret as gratitude for finding a place with a small freshwater pool overlooking a large saltwater one with waves! The Libra Hotel was a great place to stay; it had extraordinarily friendly staff, a vast selection of healthy foods at the breakfast buffet, fresh coconuts, soft pillows, and an exquisite view of the sunrise over the ocean from that little pool on the seventh floor. In our three nights there, I didn’t miss a single sunrise. 

The beach of Nha Trang offered some novel experiences. We could do pull-ups and elliptical sets in one of the many exercise parks along the shore. While sitting on one of the beach chairs, we could ask a woman to take the iced lobster from one of her baskets and put it on the hot coals in the other basket to make dinner. We could buy tiny crocodiles turned into coin purse keychains at the beachside market (Chris opted for flip-flops instead). We might have climbed aboard the wrecks of a full-size fishing boat and abandoned cars, half covered in sand and crashing surf, potentially still leaking the contents of their gas tanks into the sea (the kids tried and were quickly reprimanded). But no, we stuck to the usual routine of playing in the waves. I suppose there was novelty here too, in that stray plastic bags wrapped around our legs instead of seaweed, and the surf was so active that the boys were not allowed to get their heads wet unless a wave knocked them over violently. 

So, maybe not the best beach, but somehow it was still so beautiful!

More Nha Trang

We started this day with a beeline away from the pool and back into the virtuous realm of history, culture, and learning—at least for an hour or two. A short taxi ride took us to the Po Nagar Cham Towers just north of town. History, history, history. These towers are a collection of thousand-year-old temples from an era when the Cham people flourished in this area. The crumbling brick structures and the beautifully cultivated gardens that surround them are now a popular spot to dress up and have your picture taken—in a wedding gown, a colorful ao dai, or even just the grey robe you are supposed to don if you made the mistake of wearing shorts or a tank top to visit holy temples. We thought they were marvelous! They are a hardened clay amalgam in monument form, born of the synchronicity that is Indochina: China meets India and indigenous groups, Buddhism meets Hinduism and Animism, and they make a whole new civilization out of the mix.

Our next stop on the tourist trail was a bit disappointing, though it did teach the boys to be more aware of warning signs, and how to spell ‘promontory’ for their journal entries. A hot and smelly walk from the Cham towers, there is an enticing jumble of granite boulders jutting out to sea, entitled the Hon Chong Promontory. It looked to be a perfect place for boys to test their skills in balance and coordination. Sadly for them, the guard on duty disagreed, and with a memorably shaming expression, too. I wish I could pull such a stern face! So, we tucked our tails and made peace with fresh fruit juices and Vietnamese coffee at the promontory cafe.

Back to the hotel. Our stint of culture and sightseeing complete, we were ready to get back into resort mode—first, a family workout in the hotel gym. I didn’t feel as much like a family affair as we had intended, as the walls were gratuitously plastered with posters of extremely muscular and extremely almost naked women. I couldn’t help but wonder if the women in provocative poses were Siberian as the real Russian woman walking on the treadmill was dressed similarly, but never-mind. The boys were too busy laughing at the way their voices sounded on the vibrating massage machine to notice (we think). 

After that, while the boys caught up on their schoolwork, the parents got proper massages: an hour for about ten dollars apiece. This beach resort life has its charms. I am so grateful for the wonderful woman who stretched, folded, and pounded me back into shape with all her fancy Thai massage ways! 

Finally, we went for a similar pounding by those ocean waves before seeking out some food. Dinner that night was at the Yoga Vegan Restaurant around the corner—a place that provides fresh vegan dishes and, yes, yoga! Can I live here? I ordered so much food that we couldn’t eat it all and asked to give a whole hot pot entree to the neighboring table. Bliss.

Even More Nha Trang

We read to the boys from our travel guide about all the attractions in Nha Trang, so they might choose how to spend this last day. We could visit the enormous Buddha, see the museum for the French scientist who taught locals how to predict typhoons, go to the mud baths, or take the world’s largest over-water cable car to an amusement park on Hon Tre Island (the nighttime view of which, for me, conjures up intense memories of the place bad children go in the tale of Pinnochio, but I tried hard not to let my opinions show). To our amazement, they voted museum, monument, and mud bath. Were they just playing with us? What have we done to them?

Chris:

Their wish was our command. Kind of. Leo, Seth, and I headed out early before the heat of the day robbed us of all joy. We should have taken a taxi, but instead walked, and walked, and walked through the center of town to the Long Son Pagoda. Chris couldn’t enter because he had the audacity to wear shorts—with his knees out there for the whole world to see. So, the boys volunteered to venture ahead and bring back some photos. That was good and fine, but the real goal was to see the Big Buddha and the Lying Buddha, which were rumored to be nearby. 

The Big Buddha was less of a rumor and more of a you-can-see-it-from-anywhere kind of thing. Frankly, it was our beacon as we trudged along. There was a question of precisely how to get there, but if you don’t mind a mode of transport we call ‘maybe-trespassing,’ you can just keep heading in a generally upward direction. The view was beautiful—of the town and of the ocean. Finding the Lying Buddha took a little more serendipity, but we stumbled across it on our way back down. It’s a huge Buddha (but not as huge as the Big Buddha), lying down. 

From there we took a taxi to the museum, which was closed. The next stop (by kids’ request) was the mud bath. Not on the agenda. Frankly, I don’t know why they wanted to go, and they know me well enough not to be surprised that I didn’t want to go. Come on, a mud bath? What a terrible idea. 

So we went to cool off in a coffee shop. The boys played cards while I figured out what was next. Want to know what was next? A scooter rental! You don’t often see three people on a scooter in the US, but it’s only because people in the US lack creativity. So, we piled on our bike—with helmets, all you concerned grandparents out there—and headed south. 

There isn’t much to say regarding our journey. We swerved our way through traffic, hit the open road outside of town, realized that a 100cc engine was never really meant to carry three people and cruised at a comfortable speed along the coast. Eventually, we realized there are no gas stations outside of town, headed back, gassed up, and tried it again. We reached a beautiful lookout along the sea, stopped for an obligatory selfie, and headed back to town. Finally, we found a restaurant called “Man De La Mancha” run by people who didn’t speak Spanish and had never heard of Don Quixote. It was a delectable meal. All the while wondering how Holly would react to the photo we had just texted her….

Holly:

Meanwhile, for a special treat, I offered to take Jack snorkeling off of Mun Island. Breathing underwater to see what’s there is one of our most favorite activities to do together! The water was choppy and murky, but we had a grand time anyway, holding hands to spot what creatures we could and keeping from brushing up against the coral. A long and thin fish that swims upside down! Huge anemones! We discovered that fish like to eat bananas. Break up some chunks, and a swirling rainbow of living color appears!

On the hour-long ride to and from the island, I felt immensely grateful for this time with my first son. We watched the landscape pass by and tried to imagine trading ships from a thousand years ago seeking shelter and treasure in these curving shores. Atop the moving boat, we practiced trying to keep our balance while running through martial arts kata. We also taught the resident Vietnamese diving instructor how to play gin, and he beat us twice! (Beginners luck.)

I’ve resisted the urge to learn how to scuba dive—never been able to get past the expense and the necessary training. It turns out, in Nha Trang, we could have easily glided past both of these hurdles. There was a group of three Korean journalism students on the boat who were trying scuba for the first time—at the low, low price of only forty dollars apiece. The lesson in technique was about ten minutes long in broken English (and filtered through their limited English vocabulary). After that, they were dressed and pulled along in the water by practiced divers, looking a bit like paralyzed astronauts. Judging by the sickly pallor on their faces after a few minutes under the water, it didn’t go well. I’m happy to stick with snorkeling.

Our excursion included a stop for lunch at a fishing village on one of the tiny offshore islands. The setting captivated my child’s heart—the part that can’t help stop to gaze at every still pool in the hopes of seeing life stir under the surface. Dozens of nets suspended from buoyant planks and harboring mysterious ocean creatures drew me in. Over super fresh and tasty seafood, we enjoyed conversational odds and ends from our Korean cohorts, then departed, all too soon, to head back to shore.

Back at the beach, free of worry, the boys threw themselves joyfully into the pounding surf, over and over again—what a wonderful world.

Coming up

Finding Nirvana in the Marble Mountains, getting messy with pottery and cooking in Hoi An, and descending into the dark history of the war via the Vinh Moc Tunnels. Stay tuned for the next week of experiences in Vietnam!