It was unusually quiet at the rear of the hotel, and we slept until 9:30. Coffee was free and amazingly good. We looked out of our window at the plethora of apartment buildings protruding from the warren of narrow alley ways. One perk of being on the 5th floor is a good view. As agreed, the hotel staff moved us down to the 1st floor (2nd by US standards), to give our knees a break. We spoke briefly, to the desk clerk, about possible ways to get to Da Lat and the cost, put on our shoes, and headed out to explore Saigon.
Exiting our hotel gate we walked past daily life in our alley. An old lady squatted, cutting various vegetables. Another had her meat market open; raw meat sat on a wooden table. Several high school children, wearing their uniforms, sat at a little table, on tiny stools, eating noodle soup. The restaurant owner & chef stood against the wall monitoring her pot and cutting seasonings. Motorcycles wiggled up and down the alley in the 2 feet of available concrete.
We returned to the Asian Kitchen because it was convenient, reasonably priced and good. As we ate mango salad and curry chicken, we talked to a Swedish couple, Helene & Paul. We hit it off instantly and exchanged our thoughts on Saigon, world politics, Hurricane Katrina, and stories of our travels.
P- Have you had any Vietnamese women react rudely to your chest?
Helene – No, I don't think so.
P- I'm asking because they seem to be fascinated with mine and you're built more like me than them.
Helene – I haven't had any trouble, but Paul did.
G- What kind of trouble?
Paul- We took a boat trip on the Mekong River.
G- A private or a group tour?
Paul- It was a group. For one day.
G- Do you mind if I ask how much you paid?
P- Agnes! Let it go.
G- Nevermind. What happened on your tour?
Paul – I had been talking to the tour guide for about half an hour when he suddenly reached out and pinched my nipple.
P & G- Bwahahahahaha!!!!
G- He pinched your nipple?
Helene – Hahahahahaha.
Paul- Yes. We just stand there talking and suddenly, he pinch my nipple. I jump and look at him but he just laugh. I say, why you do this? He say he is just joking.
G- OMG!
P- We know so many American men who would have beaten the crap out of him and thrown him overboard.
Helene – I think he like it.
Paul – (Laughing.) Well maybe.
G- I guess you'll have to pinch his nipples sometimes, Helene.
Paul – Later I ask another Vietnamese man about this and he said it is not a big deal for a man to do this to another man. I say, in Sweden it is a very big deal.
P- That is unbelievable!
Paul – Also he tell me that when a man introduces his young son to a friend, the friend will sometimes cup the testicles of the boy as a sign that the boy is strong and healthy. It shows respect. What will happen if you do this in America?
G- Besides being beaten by the father, you'd be arrested and tried as a pedophile.
Paul- Yes, it is like this in Sweden too.
G- Well Gladys, you feel better now? At least they're only pointing and laughing at your boobs and no one has grabbed them.
Paul and Helene were lamenting the fact that they were flying back home that night. The snow is piled high in Sweden and they were enjoying the warmth of Saigon. We exchanged email addresses and we hope to visit them when we go to Europe. We were very disappointed that our time in Saigon didn't overlap more because we could have had a lot of fun with them.
Still laiden with the souveniers, and stolen shoes, that we had tried to mail in Siem Reap, we vowed not to travel one more mile carrying this extra weight. We would mail it home from Saigon, price be damned!! The minute we emerged from our alley, cyclo (like a tuk tuk but peddled) drivers. We asked them the price and how long it would take to get to the main post office. The first answer was 100,000 Dong and 1 hour. When we balked, the second driver said 20 minutes and 80,000 Dong.
P- Let's hire motorcycles. They're faster and cheaper.
G- I agree, and I think we're being lied to because the time it takes to get to the same place just dropped by 40 minutes. Plus, I like riding the motorcycles.
(we began to walk away)
Cyclo driver – How much you want?
G- No, thank you.
Cyclo driver – (walking with us and pointing at map) 1 hour tour. 80,000 Dong.
P- No, thank you.
Cyclo driver – How much you want?
P- No price, We don't want tour. We want speed.
Cyclo driver – How much? How much you want?
G- (to Phyl) My gawd! I'm gonna choke myself in 2 minutes. We don't want a freakin tour!! This is business and we want to get there quickly. (to Cyclo driver) NO! Thank you!!
P- Just ignore him.
He circled us asking how much as we negotiated a ride to the post office for 20,000 Dong each. I guess he gave up as we rode away. Saigon is a huge city and the traffic, especially the motorcycles, is amazing to watch from the sidewalk, much less ride through. We passed a school of very young children letting out for the day. The motorcycles were parked all over the sidewalk as parents secured their kids in metal seats attached to the handle bars or in small wicker chairs wedged between the handle bars and the seat. Many of the motorcycles had pillows, in animal shapes and various colors, strapped to the handle bars so the kids could rest their heads on them.
At the post office we checked out our various options and planned to return the next day. We then walked around the city which is not for the faint of heart. One must always be on high alert as motorcycles are coming at you from every direction!! They ride in ANY direction on streets, they ride in either direction on the sidewalks, and they make U-turns according to the driver's whim. We were often required to walk in the street as the sidewalks double as motorcycle parking lots.
P- Look at this dude sleeping on top of his motorcycle!
G- Every time I see that I am amazed.
P- How in the hell do they stay balanced? My ass would fall off.
G- Well, you're not exactly know for good balance, but I think it would be extremely difficult.
P- I guess motorcycles are just an extension of their bodies since they're taken home from the hospital on a motorcycle.
G- I guess so. Gawd knows we've seen that everything can be done or moved on a motorcycle.
We stopped at a Hindu temple and gave incense offerings for various friends in need. Unfortunately, this temple did not hold a candle, or an incense stick, to the one in Khuala Lumpur. Then we stopped at a bakery and purchased croissants. On our way back to our hotel we walked through a park where old ladies did calisthenics and we sat on benches watching girls' and boys' badminton teams practicing.
P- This is hysterical! I could sit and watch this all day.
G- They look like the rejects from a long jump competition.
P- What is the point of that?
G- I have no idea. I'm not a badminton officianado, but is a player every required to jump like that?
P- I don't know. Look over there and you can watch an actual game.
G- They're sure taking it seriously.
P- Look at that boy. He plays like you'd play badminton, slamming the birdie as hard as he can.
G- Very funny! He's doing that on purpose to make the fat kid run.
P- Is that what you were doing to me when we played tennis?
G- No. I was trying to hit it to you, I just suck at it.
P- This is a pretty park.
G- I like just sitting here watching people go about their daily lives.
We returned to our alley and stopped at a little “convenience store”, a tiny shop about 10' x 5', that we noticed contained a large box cooler and stacks of bottled beer and drinks. In the doorway of the store sat a group of Vietnamese people, on little plastic chairs, who jumped up to offer us their chairs. We declined, took 2 chairs off the stack, and sat across the alley from them. We watched families motorcycling up and down the alley, a grandmother holding her cell phone up to her young granddaughter's ear so that she could talk to one of her parents, tourists returning to their hotels, hot pots of food being prepared for the evening's meal, and women sitting together talking and pulling gray hairs out of each other's heads.
P- I really hate the way so many women sit around grooming each other like monkeys. Can't they just dye their hair? How easy would that be? It's black.
G- One year I pulled gray hairs out of Cat's head, on the way home from a Gatlinburg, TN and she swore it caused 3 to grow back for every 1 I pulled out.
P- Why did she let you do that?
G- We were bored. It's a long drive.
We ate dinner at an Indian Restaurant, Taj Mahal, thoroughly enjoying the spicy flavors of the lentils, spinach, lamb, and garlic naan. We're spicy girls and plain, boring, white rice is killing us!! As we walked back up our alley............
G- Did you see that old lady sitting in that doorway?
P- Yes, was that her house?
G- I think so. The whole thing was about 20 feet long by 8 feet wide.
P- I couldn't see in that well, but I think I saw the "kitchen" on the left. (The kitchen was nothing more than a small counter with some bowls, a pot, and a burner.)
G- And there was tiny mini fridge under that little flight of wooden steps. Look up there. It must be a sleeping area, but she'd have to crawl on her hands and knees, because it only looks about 3 feet high.
P- I thought there was a mat on the floor off to the right. Maybe that's where she sleeps.
G- Maybe. The whole place sure is tiny. I wonder how many people live down small alleys in little houses like that.
P- Probably more than you imagine.
