“Same, Same”

Saturday morning I woke up early, packed my bags, grabbed breakfast and jumped on the back of the first taxi scooter I saw to hurry across town to catch my tour to the Cu Chi Tunnels. Our bus ride out was nice as the tour guide told us some facts about Vietnam and we visited the local craft-making enterprise. As usual, it was tinged with anti-Americanism as we were told that all the employees were somehow adversely affected by American imperialism, whether via Agent Orange, bombs, torture, or some other kind of handicap. Thankfully, the people didn’t seem to mind us at all as they smiled occasionally amid their feverish work. I was really impressed with the etchings made into material that looked like sandstone. After being etched they were painted and polished, and were very beautiful (coming from a guy who has no interest or expertise in the arts). When we got back on the bus, our tour guide Thi (pronounced like “Mr. T,” I thought about teaching him a good joke he could use introducing himself to foreigners but passed) continued with his Vietnam tutorial. There are 80 million people in the country and 18 million motorbikes. In HCMC alone, there are about 8 million people and 4 million motorbikes (I think I saw everyone of them in my three days there). Vietnam is 3,600km from top to bottom and takes about 36 hours to ride a train across the entire country. Finally, when we got to the tunnels Thi reminded us to follow him and get back on the right bus. As he stated it, “All you Europeans, Australians, Americans, white people, you all look same, same. I can’t remember you so you remember me!” It reminded me of my first month in HK when all Chinese people looked the same unless they weighed 50 pounds or more different.
The tunnels were interesting. Of course we got an introduction about their history and their success in fighting the Americans. A film told about all of the “American Killer Heroes” who fought in the tunnels and of their exploits, needless to say I did not enjoy it. Once we actually started walking around and seeing the tunnels and camps, it was informative and enjoyable (except when contemplating what they had been used for). We were shown village set-ups, B-52 bomb craters (about the size of a basketball court and 10+ feet deep in the middle), traps, weaponry, secret entrances and ventilation systems. Two ideas that struck me throughout were: (1) how did we ever loose to these people with their AK-47s and home-made knifes/sharp things and (2) what on earth were we ever doing over here in a crappy jungle where we knew nothing fighting an enemy supported by the people and blending in with them? While the two contrast, obviously the 2nd one had much more effect on the outcome.
When we finally got in the real tunnels, I was impressed. I’m sure the 30 meter stretch they ran us through was the nicest tunnel around, but it had enough room to move along on your feet when totally squatted down. It was fairly deep (maybe 5 meters) and part of a larger network you could keep going in. In total, there were over 200km of tunnels at the peak. Some places they were 3 levels deep with big rooms for kitchens, meetings, armaments, and other purposes. The one part of the trip I was really torn about was firing guns. They had a shooting range where you could fire all kinds of automatic weapons. I didn’t have any moral qualms, but at $1 a bullet my frugal nature got the better of me. Maybe I’m wrong, but I figure if I made a few phone calls back home I could scrounge up an AK-47 or M-16 at a much cheaper rate for a few shots (I’m not exactly the gun-toting camouflaged type).
The bus ride home was nice as I had the front row (extra leg-room) to myself and took a nice nap. Back in HCMC I hopped on another scooter and went to Al’s Fresco Café. My guidebook recommended it for western food and I was in the mood. They hooked me up with a Chicken Caesar Salad (descent) and a hot pepperoni pizza. The pizza was delicious and reminded me Red Banjo in Park City. HCMC was not an easy place for food. I never saw a 7-11, western fast food joint, or place I felt completely at ease eating besides Al’s. After taking another scooter back to my hotel, I collected my bags and headed to the airport.
At the airport I had the second big set-back of my entire trip. I tried to charge my iPod and it basically died. First, all my memory disappeared, then it wouldn’t restart, and now I can’t even get it out of “Recovery Mode.” I’ve tried visiting a couple websites, completely restarting it with my computer, and whatever else I can think of, all to no avail. Maybe in Sri Lanka there will be a place that can service it but I doubt it. Initially, I feared I would be miserable without music to listen to all day (especially since I’m alone), but today went fine and I can listen to music on my computer when in the hotel room. Does anyone know what kind of warranty you get with a 30-gig video bought last December? It’s looking like a month of silence while outside.
So when I landed in Siem Reap (easy 50 minute flight with my own 3 seats, the plane was 70+% full but nobody wanted to sit near the white guy) I felt like where the heck am I. We had to walk off the plane on an old-school staircase and into a tiny little airport terminal. Visas for Cambodia can be purchased on arrival and I was happy to have another page taken in my passport. I’m down to 3 and one-half pages (one will be taken by India’s visa) and hope I will be able to fill up the whole thing before it expires in May 2009. The taxi ride into town was nice and I booked my driver to take me around to the temples the next day.