Saigon

Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon) is a dizzying sea of motorbikes. Crossing the street is like playing dodgeball or chicken with bikes, motorbikes and buses, but the stakes are much higher. In a city with 10 million people, 5 million own motorbikes. No one wears a helment. The morning after Sarah and I arrived into town we stood on one side of the street and waited to see how the locals crossed. Three old women grabbed arms and shuffled inch by inch into the crowd. A slow pace gives the motorbikes a chance to dodge you. Pedestrians just giggle at each other, especially at the terrified faces of westerners. One old woman grabbed Sarah's hand and led us both across. Another time, a man walked out and held up his hand to help Sarah and me feel more comfortable. He represents the second most striking aspect of Vietnam. The people are genuine. In Central America and Egypt I was accustomed to constant pestering, begging for money. Men hissed and kissed and taunted, sometimes so much that I felt unsafe. Vietnamese men just smile and wave and go about with their day.

Our second day in Saigon Sarah and I took a bus out to the Cu Chi Tunnels. These complex and brilliant tunnels became legendary in the 1960s for their role in faciliating Viet Cong control of a large rural area outside of Saigon and just under the noses of American land and air operations. On the bus ride I kept saying Vietnam outloud to try and make it feel real. The word has a heaviness that I can never fully grasp. I think about my children telling me in 30 years that they will be traveling through Iraq and this helps put it all in perspective. The countryside is green jungle and the people come to the streets to let their children grin and wave at us in the bus. I listen to Joni Mitchell and Joan Baez war protest songs on my ipod and try to take myself to a different time but I can't. The Cu Chi Tunnels are a popular destination for tourists and Vietnamese school children. We see B52 bomb craters and go into the top level of the tunnels where the VC squatted in the dark for weeks or months at a time. Tens of thousands of Vietnamese and Americans lost their lives on these grounds. I hear gunshots and feel nauseated that tourists can pay 25 cents to shoot guns at fake targets on site. 3 million Vietnamese died. 3-4 million lost limbs. 60,000 US soldiers died in this strange and faraway land. Countless Vietnamese children were born with birth defects on account of the heavy and arbitrary use of Agent Orange. Its haunting. I'm glad there is peace here now and that I can pass through just 30 years later. I wonder about nearly ever middle aged man and woman that I see, especially the armless, footless that I walk around in the street.

In the early mornings we walked through the park near the Reunification Palace in Saigon. Men and women stretch alone. They stand still and swing their arms. Everyone else plays badmitton. Badmitton! Who ever thinks about badmitton!? I love it.

After a few days in Saigon, Sarah and I headed south into the Mekong Delta. We took a boat to floating markets on the river. Men and women paddle around us conducting business with their boats sinking low, heavy with bannanas, durian, dragon fruit and papayas. Dragon fruit is the most beautiful with its neon pink body and green spiky leaves. The fruit grows on cactus-like plants that cover the land in the south. This fruit grows nowhere else in the world.

Breakfast, lunch and dinner we eat Phu--a hot soup with rice noodles. On the Mekong I have a fried elephant ear fish for lunch. We see how the men and women make rice paper, rice noodles, rice pop cakes, coconut candy and coconut crepes. As we boat by, men and women point to us and their children wave and wave, making their parents laugh. The children are always with an adult, always playing. Everyone waves, its like a parade and my hand nearly gets tired. One afternoon I ordered a king Cobra in satay for lunch. It tated about like you think a snake might taste, but hope it won't. Sarah and I both tried snake wine. The Vietnamese pickle a snake and bottle it in rice wine. Again, its too snakey for me. The Vietnamese say it has healing powers. I say wine works just fine for me.

Sarah and I took a 5-hour bus to Mui Ne yesterday. We checked into a room that hangs over the South China Sea. The beach is clean, the water is warm, palm trees outline the beach. There is no surf, but I'm happy to relax a bit. We've hardly stopped since we got off the plane and I have finally shaken the cold that gripped my voice for 3 days. Its nice to take a moment before we continue traveling north. Our next destination is Hoi An. We leave tomorrow at 1pm and arrive the next morning at 5am. There has been heavy flooding and we have received mixed advice on whether its okay to travel. Some people have gotten stuck, some people say its just fine. Hoi An is a charm of a town that I cannot resist.

North North, heading into Northern Vietnam. War and peace. Time. I fumble with these words, unsure of so many things. I have much to learn about the world.