I arrived in Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon for the lazy…or stubborn) and took a taxi to my hostel, Long Guesthouse, in the Phạm Ngũ Lão backpacker area of District 1. The staff were very friendly and helpful, but there wasn’t a common room, so it was difficult to meet people, which I didn’t like. After a couple days, I chose to switch to another hostel, Saigon Backpackers, that was nicer and had a more social atmosphere. I stayed there for the rest of my time in Saigon. There were a few sights in the area that I was interested in seeing:
- Notre Dame church (ended up not seeing this one)
- Architecture of the post office
- Cuchi tunnels
- War Remnants Museum
- Reunification Palace
The War Remnants Museum was all about the bad things the U.S. did in the American War, as they call it, most notably Agent Orange. How Agent Orange didn’t qualify as a crime against humanity, I can’t imagine. “Oops”? Truly moving imagery. I came close to crying several times. I think I spent about three hours there. I highly recommend it. I met lots of people and made friends with a few. I saw a few sights with a few of them, and chatted with them in the dorm or went out for a meal in the nearby restaurants. One evening, as I was eating dinner with a friend on a sidewalk in the backpacker area, droves of young people suddenly swarmed the road in front of us on their motorbikes. They were celebrating the victory of the Vietnam football (soccer) team. Lots of shouting and cheering and carrying on. At one point a guy stood on something in the middle of the street and fired confetti into the air to the cheers of the crowd. Of course, this was the one time I left my camera in my bag. (Speaking of football, why is American football called that when kicking it is like five percent of the game? It should be called runball or tackleball or boringball. You know, something descriptive. Zing.) It was hot hot hot. I showered at least twice a day. If you stepped outside, you started sweating. It was not pleasant. It rained heavily for about thirty or forty-five minutes each day, usually in the late afternoon or evening. Wherever you were when it started, there you were stuck. Fortunately, this usually happened as I was drinking beer with friends under shelter on the sidewalk. It was fun watching the bar proprietors set up the umbrellas and the water quickly become inches deep. After you’ve lived in a place for several days, you get used to the rhythm of the place. You find a restaurant and a bar you like. You develop a routine. So despite the humid weather, I found myself growing comfortable. But I had run out of things to see and do.