Saigon – The Heat Is On In Saigon
OK, to those of you who’ve seen Miss Saigon, I’m sorry for putting this song in your head. You’ll be humming it all day, except for the fact that you won’t be able to remember any other lines apart from that one, so you will hum that over and over and over again until everyone around you muffles you with your wastepaper basket. You’re welcome! To those of you who’ve not seen Miss Saigon – go! There’s a helicopter and everyfin! I was torn on the title of this post – the other would have been ‘Cu Chi Cu Chi Coo’ but even I wouldn’t allow myself that bad a pun.
You see, we went to the famous Cu Chi tunnels, just outside Saigon. This tunnel network was originally designed to work against the French Colonials during the war against them – and was basically an ingenious response used by the poor local people against a sophisticated, rich army. The tunnels are an extensive network in and around the land underneath Cu Chi that were so well designed that people could basically live down there – there were air vents every 30m, they could cook down there and the smoke was released elsewhere to avoid detection, and they drilled down to a well so they could drink. Best of all, though, was how small they built the tunnels so that small Vietnamese people could slip through them easily, whereas Western aggressors would likely have a bit more difficulty – or, as our tour guide put it, “Your fat Western asses would get stuck”. He speaketh the truth.
We went to Ben Duoc, where sections of tunnels have been reconstructed for the benefit of visitors – bigger and wider, for the benefit of our fat Western asses. First up was a video that we watched – it would have been interesting, were it not a sightly hilarious piece of propaganda (and so, by its own virtue, was necessarily one-sided). It was a grainy black and white film showing the peace-loving people of Cu Chi, who spent all their time hugging flowers and who had never hurt anyone in their lives. Fair enough. The best was yet to come though, when the voice of the announcer turned harsh and described how (and I quote) the “hysterical American Devils” reigned down millions of bombs on the area. According to the woman, they bombed the men and women, they bombed the children, they bombed chickens and ducks… they even bombed the pots and pans. Unfortunately after that, I pretty much lost the ability to take in the rest of the information. Bombing pots and pans – that’s harsh.
We set out on our walk round the tunnel site (after first I bumped into two of the guys from the Lakeside in Phnom Penh – small world), me hobbling along in pain after the rest of the group (and no, if you’re wondering, I’m not going to let you forget that I’M IN PAIN. I suffer, you all suffer with me).
We stopped at a hole in the ground which could be covered by leaves, and so hide the snipers that were hiding inside. The thing was tiny. Only a child in our group, aged about 6, felt confident enough to get in it. One of the staff then did, but I’m not convinced there wasn’t some camera trickery going on – he had somewhat of a fat Western ass. We passed by various exhibits, including a particularly gruesome mock-up of traps that would be set for enemy soldiers, all utilising spikes in not very pot-and-pan friendly methods. Trust me, get yourself stuck on that and you’ll be wincing for a lot longer than a few minutes. Interesting how that wasn’t mentioned on the video.
And then, we were up to what we had all been waiting for – the tunnels. Now, I’m not claustrophobic in the slightest. In fact, I display a worrying lack of phobias including no fear of heights, no fear of flying – nothing that could be construed as relatively normal (except those damn sharks – I swear I’m the sane one on this, and anyone who swims in the sea is asking for it). But. When we got down in those tiny little tunnels, I could, for the first time in my life, empathise with claustrophobic people. Despite knowing how small the tunnels were (crouch down to half your height, keep your hands in front of you), it somehow didn’t prepare me for just how awful it was. There was no air down there, and the only light was provided by electric lamps that would not ordinarily have been there. The first section was 30m, then there was an exit. I was both disappointed and relieved in equal measures to have to duck out after this one – the pressure on my foot was not helped by crouching, and then waiting in a crouched position for minutes at a time while the people in front moved on. By all accounts, the tunnels got even smaller after that one. Still, I got my fat western ass down a tunnel, and that’s enough for me.
We celebrated our victory over the tunnels by hitting the curiously subdued night life of Saigon. We were delighted to – finally – find Bia Hoi sold somewhere, a locally, fresh-brewed beer that’s about as cheap as fresh air (and not much more alcoholic), even though the place that sold it bore an uncanny resemblance to a waiting room of a long-distance bus station, then we were turfed out of Apocalypse Now (disappointingly tame after HoD in Phnom Penh) at midnight – before ending up in the only bar still open at that time, Allez Boo, which was a dispiriting mix of old Western guys and sad Vietnamese hookers. Still, it was good enough for us until 5am.
We drank enough beer to ensure our asses remain reassuringly Western-sized, or at least for the near future.
Tags: Travel, Vietnam
Suzanne
Hi Suze
You would never get me anywhere near those tunnels as I am the most claustrophobic person in the world.
Mike
Thanks to your blog, Caroline and I were able to look knowledgeable when watching Ant and Dec’s “Poker Face” quiz show last night. One of the questions was “Of which country is the Dong the official currency?” to which we knew the answer.
As for all the bars in Saigon being subdued… perhaps they were all at The Engineer’s?
Love you lots,
Michael
Hi Suzie!
I’m suprised you remember to write anything up in your blog – everyday seems to be turning into all night lashes! (very jealous of course – normally in bed by 10.30 on a school night!)
Looking forward to the next installment.
Mike and I are off to Nice on Sunday – YAY!
love
C
x
PS hope the pain dies down soon – don’t go falling over again after all the alcoholic ‘air’
Hi Suzanne, I am still thoroughly enjoying every event that you are experiencing. (except the sore toe!) Nothing better than to experience it yourself instead of trusting it to the press.
At the moment we are all fixed to the T.V. watching the Middle East crisis. So glad that you are not in that part of the world.
By the way, many thanks for the post card, a wonderful and pleasant surprise.
Take care of yourself and enjoy every moment of your adventure. Your memories will last forever. Unless you develop “alzheimer’s disease”.that is!
Love, Lin