Saigon and the Cu Chi Tunnels

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We thought Ha Noi was chaotic, and upon hearing that Saigon was worse, we weren’t too excited on staying very long. We also read that it was dirty and petty crime dangerous. Moto drivers are known to cut off handbags and purses from tourists while walking along the street. My first experience with Saigon was, well, quite shitty.

As we stepped off the bus at night, I felt something squishy beneath my sandals. With the motorbike warning fresh in my mind, I wasn't thinking too much about the squish, passing it off as a banana peel or other fruit skin.

I noticed a stench coming from somewhere. These days it could be from a variety of orifices, but this one came from my foot. My hand inquired about the problem to my foot. I noticed there was poop smudged on the top part of my sandal, rubbing against the sole of my foot. Instinctively, I grabbed the side of the sandal, another mistake, and smeared the poop over my hand too—not knowing it had enveloped the whole of my sandal, top, bottom, and side. Ely was perturbed, seeing me at one of my more pitiful moments. Sadly, I wasn't too grossed out at the moment, just laughing it off. Several weeks of traveling wiggles your mind in strange ways I guess.

What has become of me? Upon my return, I will probably be taking my meals at the floor, with the other swine in the pin.

The walk of shame ensued, trying to find a hotel room, each step smearing more poop against my foot, human or animal, it still remains a mystery. I just couldn't get that damn smell off my hands. Ely banned me from touching her entirely for the next day or so as punishment, knowing that poo carries all sorts of infectious diseases.

The next day, we decided to get out of the city and do a tour of the Cu Chi tunnels, an intricately dug, 250 KM, Viet Cong strong hold in an area very near to Saigon. If you could see these in person, you would at least respect the resiliency of these people fighting for their cause. I crawled in one authentic section. Without the guide of a flashlight, I quickly became frantic, crawling on my hands and knees in complete and utter darkness, hearing and feeling bats graze my body. After a short time, I caught up with someone and we quickly exited. This sequence lasted for a few minutes. The Viet Cong lived in these tunnels for years. It is mind blowing.

Americans did all sorts of nasty things to these tunnels, trying to flood them out, putting down loads of snakes and scorpions, poisonous gas, etc. Most of the authentic tunnels are off limits because of recent deaths. There are still remaining cobras, booby traps, and quick drops in the floor moving to a deeper section in the tunnel.

Most tourists didn’t want to climb down the real tunnel. In order to give everyone an idea of the tunnels, a wide, Western Ass, tunnel was built, widened already 2 times (as we are getting bigger and bigger these days), lasting only 100 meters. It still felt claustrofobic.

During the tour, we also had to watch an informative video and hear a short presentation, heavily propagated towards the VC side. It started something like, “This area was a quite, peaceful, and happy place, before the bastard, killing, and violent Americans came to town.” I couldn’t help but chuckle, realizing quickly that this was a bad idea. You know, no matter how wide they open their doors, it still is a Communist state. So, we listened on, the video talking about awards given to American Killer #1, #2, and #3. We then went through a short exhibition of booby traps, which, according to our guide, were great weapons for killing the Americans.

It was pretty interesting in seeing a different side of the Vietnam (or American) War, depending on how you look at it. We returned back to Saigon, wandering the hectic streets aimlessly, happy to sit down on the street on toddler stools, order a Bia Hoi (local beer starting at 10 cents per glass), people watch, and share a bit of dried fish jerky in chili sauce with a generous smiling local. So do we really have to come back and start doing that work thing again?

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