The trip to Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City – HCMC) was planned in early
January as a New Year gift to self! I had flown Malindo Air from Chennai to
Bali and back last December. They had been sending promos ever since and I fell
for one; the round-trip fare from Chennai to HCMC via Kuala Lumpur (KL) was just
about $250. The enticements, besides the low airfare, were the extremely
attractive homestay I sourced through booking.com and visa on arrival. I found
a website Vietnam-Evisa.org, which I presumed would process the visa electronically
prior to my arrival in HCMC and made the requisite online application. The visa
approval letter was received within 72 hours. Technically, I was ready in all
respects for the travel to HCMC within 5 days of taking the decision to travel
to HCMC to ‘celebrate’ my 60th birthday in an iconic city that had
been ‘in the news’ when I was in school, for the wrong reasons – the Vietnam
War.
I returned to Chennai, after a highly successful and rewarding
experience of driving in Australia and New Zealand, on 27th April.
Within two weeks of completing that two-month expedition I was on my way to the
Chennai International airport for another holiday! The flight to KL, operated
by Batik Air as code share with Malindo Air, had been rescheduled by 70
minutes, which meant that my layover in KL would be that much less. At the
check-in counter the young man told me that my luggage was well within the hand
carry allowance and asked if I would like to avoid the baggage check-in. I went
ahead with checking the bag in, nevertheless. The immigration and Customs
proceedings were done without much ado – while in the queue for immigration a
serious altercation broke out between two groups and the leader of one had to
be severely reprimanded by officials for being abusive under the influence of
liquor. It was good to see INR rates in the Duty-Free shops; I was told that rupee
denomination had been introduced since 1 March of the year, which is a great
help for returning Indian tourists. I was tempted by the store boy in the
liquor store with discounts to ‘book for delivery on return’. Moreover, if one
uses Citibank credit card an additional 15% cashback offer was also promised.
The deals were indeed tempting; resisting them took all the will power I had in
me.
The Chennai international departure lounge is quite bare and
uninteresting. However, the lounge has a few interesting pieces of art, which
rivetted my attention for a while. Before boarding was announced I ‘feasted’ on
the leftover wedges of pizza I had packed from home. Once boarding was
announced everything happened quite fast and the flight was ready to push back
earlier than scheduled. It was a full flight and as I boarded my eyes were
filled with the unforgettable photo of the young girl caught in a napalm bomb
fire during the Vietnam War. I was going to ‘experience’, albeit in a small
way, the barbaric war that killed and maimed thousands and laid waste a fertile
land and a couple of generations.
The arrival at Tan Son Nhat airport in HCMC was a half hour
ahead of schedule. That it is the busiest airport in Vietnam was amply clear as
I walked to the immigration area. Trusting that I had already obtained the visa
online I joined a queue and soon reached the head of it. When I produced the
print out and the passport I was told that I had to join another queue to
obtain the visa; what I had was merely an invitation letter. The process in the
new queue took less than thirty minutes even though many people were waiting. I
had to shell out another $25 for the visa to be stamped on the passport. What I
realized later is that I would not have had to do the online invitation letter,
spending $19, if I had reservation in a hotel in HCMC. Anyway, that was a
learning experience. Armed with the stamped visa I reached a counter and, in a
trice, the immigration formalities were done. The next thing I did was to
exchange USD to Vietnamese Dong (VND) – the going exchange rate was 22720 Dong
to a USD. I became a millionaire at the currency exchange counter and the
feeling of being overwhelmingly rich soon made my feet light. At the adjacent
counter I bought a Viettel Sim card for 350,000 Dong (INR 1000) with a package
of 100 minutes of local call, 60 minutes of international calls and 3.5 GB of
data. Armed with these two essentials I went to the baggage carousel and found that
my bag had been offloaded from it.
I hired a taxi at one of the pre-paid counters and paid VND
190,000 to Ms Yang’s Homestay on Vo Van Tan road. The driver cursed the traffic
but safely deposited me in the accommodation after a brief search, as it was in
a small by-lane. I was warmly received at the homestay by Ms Yang and her
sister, who ran two homestays on the same road from their ancestral properties.
They quietly told me that the room would be cleaned and ready only by 2 pm. It
was hot and humid, and I was sweating from all pores of my body. I sat for a
while and discussed with them the places I intended to visit during the
five-day stay in the city and the food, snacks and drinks that I wished to have.
The elder of the sisters, Ms Yang, showed me the attractions I could visit in
the immediate neighborhood and suggested eateries where I could sample some of
the items on the wish list.
The route map I was handed over by Ms. Yang showed that the closest attraction to the homestay is the War Remnants Museum. On the way to the museum I spotted a shop that vended cool drinks. I was drained with all the sweat that I was shedding. I bought a huge plastic cup of what looked like the specialty of the shop – ‘Fresh milk in Brown Sugar’. Half of the large portion of the drink was made up of ice. And what was strange was that the ice did not melt quickly despite the heat. Sipping the drink slowly I made my way to the museum. After paying the nominal entrance fee I spent nearly two hours at the museum. To say the least, the War Remnants Museum visit was a heartrending experience. I very nearly broke down inside going through the exhibits. The photo journey along with reconstruction of means of confinement, torture and destruction showcases the misery visited upon South Vietnam by the Americans during the war. The Dioxin spray, massacres, land mines, torture camps, napalm bombs, cruelty of persecution are as powerful an indictment of the aggressor as it was at the Auschwitz. Some photographs, attached to the later part of this piece, hopefully will illustrate what I have said. Most visitors, I found, were foreigners and their reactions ranged from tears to incredulity. What comes out of the visit is the unimaginable cruelty that man is capable of inflicting upon man.
The route map I was handed over by Ms. Yang showed that the closest attraction to the homestay is the War Remnants Museum. On the way to the museum I spotted a shop that vended cool drinks. I was drained with all the sweat that I was shedding. I bought a huge plastic cup of what looked like the specialty of the shop – ‘Fresh milk in Brown Sugar’. Half of the large portion of the drink was made up of ice. And what was strange was that the ice did not melt quickly despite the heat. Sipping the drink slowly I made my way to the museum. After paying the nominal entrance fee I spent nearly two hours at the museum. To say the least, the War Remnants Museum visit was a heartrending experience. I very nearly broke down inside going through the exhibits. The photo journey along with reconstruction of means of confinement, torture and destruction showcases the misery visited upon South Vietnam by the Americans during the war. The Dioxin spray, massacres, land mines, torture camps, napalm bombs, cruelty of persecution are as powerful an indictment of the aggressor as it was at the Auschwitz. Some photographs, attached to the later part of this piece, hopefully will illustrate what I have said. Most visitors, I found, were foreigners and their reactions ranged from tears to incredulity. What comes out of the visit is the unimaginable cruelty that man is capable of inflicting upon man.
We went to the Notre Dame Cathedral next. The glorious
cathedral with a huge statue of Our Lady in the foreground is under major
restoration, and hence not open to tourists. The cathedral was built by the
French colonialists between 1863 and 1880. The statue of Our Lady is
magnificent, in the least, which was reported to have shed tears in October
2005. I was told by a few vendors that the only way to get inside the cathedral
is during service hours and I noted the timings to visit there later. The
cathedral is one of the many beautiful remnants of French colonial
architecture. To the side of the cathedral is another, the stately Central Post
Office of Saigon, designed by Gustav Eiffel, of Eiffel Tower fame. The post
office is busy with tourists jostling to have postcards send to their near and
dear ones from this iconic landmark of the city. Besides a functional post office,
the flanks of the building are bustling touristy shops vending all sorts of
stuff from chappals to art pieces.
My room was on the second floor and Ms. Yang’s
sister showed me to the large air-conditioned room with an attached bathroom. I
did not wait to freshen up or unpack before collapsing in a heap on the bed out
of sheer exhaustion. By the time I woke up it had become dark and I quickly had
a wash and got ready to go out for dinner. At the reception of the homestay I
found a middle-aged man and his wife talking to Ms. Yang. The gentleman, Tung Tran, asked me if I wanted
to go to church with them the next day, as they would be going to a Roman
Catholic church for the Sunday morning service. They were truly a godsend and I
quickly agreed to their offer. Then the couple asked if I wanted to go with
them for dinner as they were going to a nearby eatery. I acquiesced with the
hope that I would be able to savor local dishes and drinks. In a short walk we
reached the small family-run restaurant, as are most small eateries in this
part of the world. I plumbed for Com Tam (sticky broken rice and prawn curry) and
Ca Phe Sua Da (cold coffee). Over amiable discussion with the US
based Vietnamese couple I devoured the tasty main course. Later I ordered Nuoc
Sam (ginseng drink) and continued the conversation. It was a fascinating tale
that Tung had to tell; of his life in Vietnam, being a ‘boat people’ refugee
and finally settling in Virginia, USA. The conversation gave a different
dimension to the Vietnam War and its fallout.
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