Back in Ho Chi Minh City now… It’s nice to be back on the tourist-trail for a change! The bia hoi places are always full of other backpackers and theres plenty of things to see and do. I’ve been spending my days exploring the city on foot, cyclo and moto and my nights making friends over bia hoi.

A few days ago I hired a cyclo driver to take me around Cholon, the chinatown district of HCMC.

A sidenote: most people that live here in the south refer to the city by its old name, Saigon. It’s official name is Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC) - Saigon is technically only the name of district 1.

Tho (the driver) spoke very good English and I learned quite a bit from him about the recent history of Vietnam. He fought alongside the Americans during the war, but when the south was “liberated” he lost his right to live legally in HCMC (his home) just like most south vietnamese soldiers who survived the war. Now the only way he knows to make a living is by operating as a freelance tour-guide with his cyclo. He was very pro-America and excited to show me around; He told lots of stories and took me to some places I would never have known about otherwise. The last stop on the tour was the War Remnants Museum, which presented the complete opposite view on the American War (its only the “Vietnam War” to us). There were several exhibitions of photographs, a short film and displays of various weapons. The underlying theme of everything there, though, was to put America and its agenda during the war in a bad light. It was a very good visit just to be able to hear both sides of the propaganda machine.

I also paid a visit to the Fine Arts Museum and ended up liking the tiles far more than the art:

The food is a major highlight of Saigon as well! I’m adding another layer to my noodle-soup obsession with pho bo and hu tiu… Last night I met a Vietnamese chef who lives in San Diego and is spending a few months here as a student at a Vietnamese culinary school before he plans to open his own restaurant back home. He gave me a very detailed recipe for pho, including the chinese names of the 6 spices and cuts of beef involved so I can buy them in any city with a proper chinatown (SF!). Later on this evening I’ll be joining him for a 7-course gourmet meal at his friend’s restaurant… I’ll bring my camera.

I’ve posted some videos to show how insane the traffic is here on YouTube. Here’s a link.

After realizing that I had already spent a week in Ho Chi Minh City, I decided to make one last day-trip and then continue on northward to Dalat. On advice from some fellow travelers I booked a cheap half-day excursion to Tay Ninh and Cu Chi to visit the Cao Dai Holy See and the Cu Chi tunnels.

The first stop was the Cao Dai Great Temple (Cao Dai Holy See) in Tay Ninh province to witness the daily 12:00pm ceremony. The Cao Dai faith is something unique to Vietnam and like nothing I’ve ever heard of. Here are some quoted paragraphs from OffTheRails.com (which is in turn quoted from an issue of Giant Robot magazine):

The Divine Eye gazes unblinkingly from the enormous globe on the altar. Twenty-eight dragon-encrusted columns, representing the twenty-eight manifestations of the Buddha, run the entire length of the immense chamber. The temple’s enormous windows, all emblazoned with the Eye, let in the muted sunlight. Lao Tze, the Sakyamoni Buddha, and Confucius share the stage with Jesus Christ on the fronton above the altar. The Great Divine Temple, epicenter of the Cao Dai religion, is unlike any other house of worship in the world.

Cao Daism was founded in southern Viet Nam in 1926 and claims six million adherents. Cao Dai temples dot the Mekong Delta, but the faith’s world headquarters is the Holy See compound which lies just outside the Vietnamese city of Tay Ninh, about two hours northwest of Saigon, near the Cambodian border.

A full appreciation of the temple requires some knowledge of the Cao Dai religion. While many other religions are insular, Caodaism trumpets its foundations in other faiths. Caodaists describe their religion as the unification of Buddhism, Taoism and Confucianism: These faiths are represented in Cao Dai theology through such concepts as reincarnation, vegetarianism and yin and yang and also on the Cao Dai banner - a tri-colour with one colour for each religion.

Cao Daism garners inspiration from farther afield as well: Striding a spire high on the temple’s roof is the Hindu trinity of Brahma, Shiva and Krishna. A mural inside the temple commemorates French novelist Victor Hugo, Chinese Nationalist Party leader Sun Yat Sen and Vietnamese poet Trang Trinh as three saints, witnesses to the 3rd alliance between God and humanity. And while Cao Dai theology is largely Eastern, the hierarchy is clearly Western: The organizational structure closely mirrors the Catholic Church, with bishops, archbishops, cardinals, and a Pope.

If you’re interested, googling “Cao Dai Religion” turns up several nice articles about Caodaism.

We arrived just before noon and had some time to walk around the outside of the temple and then get settled inside for the start of the ceremony. Although those who practice Cao Dai normally refuse to be photographed during worship, the upper balcony of the temple is open to tourists and their cameras - and the temple is now one of the major tourist attractions of the region. At 12:00 sharp, the congregation of white-robed worshippers filed into the main hall and seated themselves on the floor in an organized pattern, grouped according to sex and rank. The hall is “stepped” in nine levels, representing the nine main levels of rank within the church. At the moment, none of the priests are qualified to replace Cao Dai’s first and only pope who died in Cambodia (where his body still remains) so there are a set of empty seats nearest the altar on the ninth level. Upstairs, a choir of young singers and musicians play and chant the Cao Dai prayers in an eerie continuous flow while the people below sing along in lower tones. The acoustics of the temple create a hypnotizing and beautiful sound.

After the ceremony I got back on the bus and rode to Cu Chi. Cu Chi is the province made famous during the Vietnam war as a Viet Cong stronghold which helped Ho Chi Minh’s soldiers fight off the Americans who otherwise occupied most of the south. The secret to their success was an elaborate network of tunnels, some of which were left over from the earlier war against the French. At the height of the war, hundreds of soldiers were living underground in the middle of enemy territory in some 200km of tunnels. One of the US bases in the region was unknowingly built right on top of an old set of tunnels, which the VC used to gather intelligence and launch devastating surprise attacks. The more elaborate parts of the tunnel network were 3 levels deep and even had underground hospitals, kitchens, bunkers and meeting rooms.

Visiting the tunnels nowadays means a trip to one of the most blatant tourist-traps in Vietnam. The most enjoyable part of the otherwise horribly kitchy tour was the introductory propoganda film, produced in Hanoi by the VC during the war. My camera’s batteries had died while shooting a ton of photos at the Cao Dai temple, but there werent too many inspiring photo-ops anyway.

During the tour I was hanging out with a lovely couple from Australia (originally Poland). Since my chef friend had bailed out on our plans to meet up for a big meal the other day, I invited them to join me for dinner. I called up the chef guy to get the address and after the tour we walked out to the restaurant (Au Pagolac in District 1). Their specialty is a 7-course affair called “7-ways beef” so we ordered enough of that for everyone. It turned out to be an amazing meal, and even better than the food was sitting, drinking and talking with Eva and Ted for a while afterwards. They gave tons of great advice about visiting Poland which is one of my planned stops in Europe (when I finally get there…)

I ended up staying in Da Lat quite a bit longer than I had originally planned - 6 days in total. Da Lat is a fairly large town up in the mountains of the central highlands, and thus has a much cooler climate. Its a very relaxed, sleepy place. Its also one the very few places in all of Vietnam that saw almost no fighting during any of the wars over the past century.

Before the French occupied the country, Da Lat was nothing more than a tiny village of montagnards. Only over the last few decades has the town developed into a college town / popular vacation spot for Vietnamese. The French built universities and elaborate homes in the area in order to avoid the harsh heat of the south.

Surrounding Da Lat are tons of waterfalls, mountain pagodas, montagnard villages and scenic roads. My first plan was to rent a motorbike and take off exploring by myself, but I ran into a nice driver who offered to take me around all day for what I would be paying to do it by myself.

Vinh turned out to be a great guide. He took me to several waterfalls, some temples, the “chicken village” (named for its giant concrete chicken statue), and a handful of landmarks around town. The sights were great and it was a beautiful day, but the best part was talking with Vinh about the war. I had just finished The Girl in the Picture the night before. Its the story surrounding one of the most famous photographs from the Vietnam War, of Kim Phuc running down the highway after being burned during a botched napalm bombing. The photo was taken just outside the city of Tay Ninh in southern Vietnam near a small village called Trang Bang. Just the week before, I rode the bus over that very same stretch of road on my way to visit the Cao Dai Holy See near Tay Ninh.

As it turns out, Vinh was born in Tay Ninh and served as a soldier in the ARVN (South Vietnamese Army) in the area during the war. At 19 he had to give up his life as a student of mathematics and joined the army. He knew the photograph well and the general story behind it, and shared a few other tragic stories. He spoke english well and answered my questions very openly - I learned a lot.

During the rest of my time I hung out with my new friend Kieu, watched plenty of World Cup games, read 3 books and ate lots of strange food. I’m now in Nha Trang…

I stopped in Nha Trang to spend a few days sitting in the sun while I waited for my visa extension to go through (I’ve decided to stay in Vietnam another month). Nha Trang Beach is really nice and the weather was perfect - I spent most of my time relaxing on the sand, reading books.

One afternoon I ran into Glen, someone I met in Franz Josef, New Zealand a few months ago. We exchanged stories about our recent travels - Glen was in India for most of the time and is now touring Vietnam on his way home to Ireland after being away for more than 2 years. Small world!

One day I hired a moto driver to take me out to some nearby Cham ruins (No Pagar Cham) and an old pagoda, and I spent another day doing a couple fun dives near some islands off the coast. The city is pretty touristy so it didn’t stand out as one of the best stops so far. Still, I’ve got no complaints about having a few quiet days on the beach…

I left Nha Trang for Hoi An on one of the ubiquitous “Open Tour” buses. These buses are by far the cheapest way to get around the country - so cheap that its hard to see how they can make any money on the fares alone. Actually, I don’t think they do. Instead, the buses - which are normally full of tourists, not vietnamese - deliver passengers to certain hotels at their destination cities and collect a commission on each person that books a room. The whole ordeal is just so typically … Vietnamese. Its easy enough to collect your bags and walk off to find your own inevitably cheaper accomodation, but I was surprised at the amount of people who played right into it and took a room. Maybe it was the sleepless, bumpy 14-hour ride that drained their motivation to lug their bags around town in the sun…

Anyway, I hopped off the bus, rented a bicycle and took to exploring the streets. I found myself a decent room in town and continued exploring. I managed to stay awake for the rest of the day riding around.

The next day I met Thong, a local tour guide who does multi-day trips through the highlands. We worked out a good deal for a day-trip to the Cham ruins at My Son the next day. He woke me up at 5am the next morning and took me out to My Son before the first fleet of tour buses arrive. After a quick ride into the site in an old US Army jeep, I walked around the ruins alone. The experience was much different than visiting the temples of Angkor - these Cham ruins are not only older but less effort has been put into maintaining them over the years. They’ve seen looting from Khmers, Chinese and Vietnamese people over the past 1000+ years and suffered significant damage from American bombs during the war. After I explored the ruins Thong took me on a ride through the countryside around My Son.

I hung out in Hoi An for another couple days to have some more clothes made. If I had known how much better and cheaper the tailors in Hoi An are than in Bangkok, I never would have had those first two suits made there! I had two shirts, a hat, 2 pairs of pants, a pair of shorts and a full suit made for a total of $60. I even returned for 3 fittings on some of the items and wasn’t asked to pay anything until it was all perfect. I was disappointed, though, that no one wanted to try making me a ninjahood. I sent it all home along with my broken iPod and some paintings. It should arrive in LA sometime in October!

I only spent one hour in Danang. At the bus station.

The touts in Vietnam are a hard-working bunch. When I ride local buses, I’m usually the only foreigner onboard. Approaching a bus station like this always creates such a hoopla that its usually the best part of the ride.

It starts a few blocks away from the station. One of them will spot me looking out the window and start tailing the bus on his motorbike. A couple blocks later and there’s a swarm - 6 or 7 - competing for my attention. The more I try to ignore them the crazier they get. Some of them even hang onto the side of the bus, flying towards either oncoming traffic on the left side or the food carts on the right while they shout at me through the window.

Then the bus pulls into the station and the madness begins. I’m almost always asked to ride in the back with my bags so the moto drivers whip themselves into a frenzy while they wait for the rest of the passengers to disembark. I try to take my time as well.

Stepping off the bus is like jumping into a tank of piranhas. Normally I just set my sights on the table of a nearby pho or com place and let them devour eachother while I enjoy a slow meal. I was in the mood for some goofy fun today, though.

As soon as they started grabbing, pinching and yelling I started giving it right back to them. I pinched the pinchers, grabbed the grabbers and laughed and yelled along with the more obnoxious ones. I thought maybe this would dissolve the crowd, but instead everyone around took notice and came over to watch the nutty foreigner go crazy in the street. Everyone was laughing - at least the first set of moto drivers seemed to get the joke - so I just kept up the performance, and so did they. I jumped, poked and danced around with them for a couple minutes until I was all sweaty and then finally gave it up. Everyone had one last hearty laugh, and a couple of the drivers even sat down with me while I had some water. I told them I was from France.