Ho Chi Minh City

It’s now called Ho Chi Minh City (they won’t let Saigons be Saigons)

Part of the pampering that comes with our desire to improve the world involves booking Business Class air travel. Aside from having access to actual China and metal utensils, it allows for more than a modicum of comfort with a full nights sleep being the number one benefit. Cathay Pacific was the beneficiary of our financial benevolence. I’d heard so much about the upscale quality of service that I think I was looking forward to the voyage as much as the destination. I am sorry to say that I’ve downgraded Cathay to Cathbee. Attention to detail, food quality and presentation were such that were we traveling economy, I’d have commented on the above-market service we were receiving. So, I made do, quietly grumbling and fidgeting to myself. Our flight took us to Hong Kong and a few hours later we were on our way to Vietnam. I tried to book an Apache helicopter equipped with sidewinder missiles and a sound system ready to play Wagner’s March of the Valkeries as we buzzed in over the hamlets and rice paddies, but Lori convinced me that my choice would not endear me to the local populace, nor create a very positive first impression. I married her to provide a PC compass for my inner being. Probably a good thing.

As was the case in India, the airport service was superb. We obtained our travel visas, picked up our bags, cleared customs, met our local rep and were on our way to our hotel in less time than it usually takes me to pick up my luggage and get out of Trudeau Airport after flying the dreaded Montreal-Toronto route.
We did our utmost to maximize our 24 hour stay in HCMC (see title of piece for explanation of abbreviation). A quick check in at the local $35 per night hotel, a fast shower and we hit the town running. Walking, actually. HCMC is a large city of 10 million people and spreads out for miles in all directions. Our base was situated within walking distance of most of the sites one would want to take in. Built by the French during their turn to rape the planet back in the 1800s, the city reflected both the layout and style of France. The Belle Époque architecture, the wide boulevards, the plethora of majestic shade trees hearkened back to colonial times. There was also considerable amounts of new buildings, which reflected the immense growth that is today’s Vietnam as well as a needed fill in for the numerous structures that were bombed and otherwise demolished back in the 60’s and 70’s. We secured a map of the local sites and headed down one of the aforementioned broad boulevards (Nguyen Thi Minh Kha, for you really curious lot) to see what the city had to offer. Plenty, given the one day limit. There is a section called Dong Khoi that is the Old Montreal version of HCMC. The first and one of the most imposing buildings is the only discernable church in a city otherwise known for pagodas and Buddhist temples. It is called Notre Dame and was pawned off on the locals as being a copy of the one in Paris, although it bears no resemblance to its namesake at all. It seems that France, in an effort to inspire the acceptance of Catholicism, built one of these behemoths everywhere they went – anticipating the concept of franchising by at least 200 years. All that were missing were Triumphal yellow arches.

Across from ND stood the General Post Office, up a rank from the Lieutenant Colonel Post Office. The building is another one of those Belle Époque things and is still in use today. Both inside and out, the property is a jewel with form and function melding perfectly. The architect was Louis Eiffel, of the Tower fame, proving that the man was no one-hit wonder in the field of design.

Restaurants and cafés abounded and people sat at tables happily whiling away the afternoon. Lori and I strolled, me taking in the sights with my eyes, she with her camera. As we continued our constitutional, we passed one magnificent building after the next. We stopped off for what is probably Vietnam’s national drink – Iced Coffee. The taste is unique – a sweet mocha type flavour without any real chocolate in it. Languishing on the rooftop bar at the Rex hotel, we had a panoramic vista of HCMC. Across the street was the famous Continental Hotel that housed the press corps, including Walter Cronkite, for much of the war. The Rex itself was a classic Art Deco property. The French influence was still well represented by the buildings which remained. The Rex, however was undergoing a transmogrify. From its staid, almost dowager like appearance, the ground floor was being chopped up into boutiques. Channel, Burberry, a high end art gallery, etc. I walked into the Ferragamo boutique. Realizing that the official name of the country that was hosting me is The Socialist Republic of Vietnam, I selected this really nice alligator belt and walked up to one of the employees and said “I’ll take this one, thank you”. Apparently my understanding of Socialism has changed since getting my political science degree way back when. I apologized profusely to the incredulous clerk and we headed off to the market, a city block sized labyrinthine paean to counterfeiting and other forms of rip off. The Ferragamo belt was there. $4. Lacoste polo shirts – every size and colour imaginable $6. So, they may not be socialist, but there is a certain egalitarianism which pervades (built on the famed Marx-Engles axiom – buy wholesale or cheaper at all times – they were both Jews, no?).

There is no sense of proprietary rights anywhere in this country. My laptop died an unexpected death, which I discovered merely hours prior to leaving the city. I chose to invest in a new one since Lori’s notion of Socialism is closer to the Rex Hotel’s version than Marx and Engles’. There was no way that she was prepared to share her machine with me. The acquisition took 5 minutes – the new computer was almost a mirror version of my old one. Except that when I took it for a spin on the ‘net in the shop, it came up with a warning that I was using a counterfeit version of Windows 7. “No Problem”, or the Vietnamese equivalent thereof, came out of the vendor’s mouth. He loaded his trusty USB key into the soon to be my machine and installed a crack version of Windows 7. Simple. When I recounted the story to Quon, our guide, he kept waiting for the ‘and so…’ part of the story.

More touring, more wandering, and more smiles. Lori and I just look at each other from time to time. We can’t believe we’re where we are so much of the time and we realize how lucky we are to have found each other so early in life and after so many years together that we do things within a unique framework of fun and wonderment that nobody else we know would even consider, let alone undertake. Luck wins out again.