There are a few popular trips to do out of Ho Chi Minh City. We chose two, one that I had been planning to do for weeks. That one, of course, turned out to be the worst tour of the trip to date. Because that’s just how life screws you, sometimes.
The first, OK tour started with a stop at a Caodai temple. Caodaism is a weird mish-mash of Buddhism, Confucianism, Taoism, and Christianity. The followers wear color-coded robes and the temple is decorated in over-the-top pastels, making their services look like a rainbow exploded. The strict old lady guards that keep the spectators in line only added to my confusion of whether or not it was all just a joke.
no religion really makes sense, but most aren't so flamboyant about it
The main aim of this tour was the Cu Chi tunnels. This huge network of tunnels was used by the Viet Cong as a base of operations, including during the Tet Offensive, and to survive American bombing. We watched a “documentary” video to start, featuring such heroes as the mild-mannered village girl who received a medal for killing some certain high number of Americans. I’m sure she pinned it on her sash right next to her Needlepoint and Assisting the Elderly badges. We also saw examples of the homemade weapons and booby traps little Suzy Sniper up there used to impale or bludgeon her enemies when the going got tough. It was all very effective, and the Viet Cong’s Surprise Holes of Killing made Cu Chi one of the bloodiest areas in the country.
The tunnels themselves had numerous camouflaged entrances and booby traps. They were pitch black, confusing, and too small for the steak-and-potatoes-eating Americans to negotiate. All together the area was a meat grinder. The tunnels are enlarged a little now for the tourists to fit, there are intermittent lights installed, and they claim all the traps are dismantled. I wasn’t particularly curious about adventuring off into the dark to find that last part out for myself. Incidentally, after being subjected to the hell that was the silver mine in Potosi, crouching through things was a breeze.
On the first day of the awful tour we were herded from one souvenir buying opportunity to another. Chopstick boxes, stuff made from honey, coconut candy, heroin, orphans, you name it. We got a few breaks in the form of a boat ride and fifteen or so minutes bicycling around some nothing of a town, but the rest of the time we were either stuck on the bus or boat or being pumped for cash.
The second day we actually got to see the thing I had been looking forward to, the Cai Rang floating market. Cai Rang is one of the biggest floating markets in southeast Asia. People from all over the Mekong delta sail their goods there to sell, sometimes living on their boats for days. This was the only bit of the tour that was worthwhile.
bananas are soooo last season? Do you have anything in a citrus?
The last waste of time stop was a visit to a rice noodle factory. This was at least moderately interesting and much less worthless than anything from the first day. Overall, the two days were one bright spot shining out from a big, steamy pile of tour poop.
During both excursions we had the most fun laughing at the guides. The guide on the first tour was clearly having a good time. He made frequent off-color jokes which no one seemed to appreciate as much as we did. Well, the guide laughed at them, too. After lunch his sister hitched a ride to school and, amid the sibling banter, we (that’s the guide, Justin, and me) helped her cheat on her English homework. During the informational speech on the ride home the guide downed a beer, and when it was all gone looked longingly at the empty can, said, “I love you, beer,” and kissed it. This dude is now unshakably at the top of my Tour Guide Hall of Fame.
The guide on the second, shitty tour, on the other hand, was completely opposite. This dude was totalitarian and uptight, getting frustrated when he thought he wasn’t being understood.
Guide: Now we are going by the riber. You know “riber”?
Tour Group: …..(uninterested silence)
G: That’s r-i-v-e-r. You know?
TG: …..
G: R-i-v-e-r. You know “riber”?
TG: …..
G: R-I-
Me: YES! We speak English, we know “river”!
G: We will stop for runch in one hour. You know “runch”?
M: (facepalm)
He would also repeat himself whenever he thought people weren’t paying attention, which, if you’ve ever been on an organized tour, is nearly all the time. And also yell at anyone who asked a question about something he’d already mentioned, which, if you’ve ever been on an organized tour, happens nearly all the time. After two days of Nazi Guide I, too, was ready to make out with a can of beer or three.
