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April 1, 2001

The Thanh Long Hotel, located on Pham Hong Thai Street in District 1, was the most unusual hotel I had ever seen. The entire building was only 14 feet wide, maybe 40 feet deep and 12 stories tall. It was across the street from the New World Hotel, a beautiful five-star hotel where President Bill Clinton had stayed a few months earlier on his trip to Vietnam. The handsome young boys who checked me in had been sleeping on small foam mattresses on the lobby floor when I arrived. They offered Khiem and myself a glass of cold water while we were checking in. It dawned on me that, like the Philippines and Thailand, labor was cheap here. The hotel could afford to have 4 boys on night shift for convenience and security. They worked 12 hour shifts, six days a week. They were always smiling, always very friendly.

The room itself was small, but absolutely spotless, as was the entire hotel. There were marble floors throughout that were so clean you eat scrambled eggs off of them. The doors were hand-carved wood, very ornate. Khiem stayed only a short time, as he was scheduled to work later in the morning and needed to go home. I was very tired and needed to sleep. As expected though, I could not sleep well.

I awoke very early in the morning and called my friend Khanh, who was expecting me and came to the hotel right away. He informed me that we would travel around Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC) by motorbike. I was a little apprehensive about trusting my life to someone I had never met before, but put my fear aside and straddled the Honda Super Cub 50 for our grand tour of Saigon.

I was amazed at how clean the city was, as compared to Bangkok and Manila, both of which I had visited three years earlier. There was none of the choking diesel fumes that are part of everyday life in Manila.

There were, however, hundreds and hundreds of motorbikes. Honda 50s, 100s and Suzuki 110s were everywhere. Young boys, middle-aged women and old men were all riding motorbikes. At intersections that were not controlled by traffic lights, the drivers simply slowed a little, weaving their way through perpendicular traffic until they reached the other side. And the next block they would do it again. I could not help thinking about what a nightmare this traffic would be if all these motorbikes were cars. It just might resemble Los Angeles.

Almost every business establishment had a parking attendant, usually a young boy who would greet you upon arrival, give you a number and park your motorbike for you. After you finished conducting your business inside, the boy would unpark your motorbike, at which time you would give him a tip, usually 1,000 Dong (about 7 cents).

Pedestrians filled the sidewalks and bravely crossed the streets in the face of unbridled oncoming traffic. I learned that the only way to successfully negotiate a safe street crossing was to step slowly and deliberately into the swarm of motorbikes. If the movement of the pedestrian is predictable and unswerving, the mass of motorbikes will avoid him, some cutting in front and others darting behind. It was a bit unnerving to watch and downright scary in practice, but it works.

Khanh and I drove around HCMC for a while and stopped at a book store to purchase a book for a friend in Da Nang. Thinh wanted a book on HTML programming that was not available in Da Nang. So, instead of buying one in San Diego for $20 and transporting it 8,000 miles, I bought one for $2.50 in HCMC. I silently thanked my friend Chinh for suggesting that I do so.

We proceeded to Khanh's house, a small modest concrete house in Saigon, and met his parents. They were very friendly and gracious, and spoke no English at all. His mother was especially friendly, offering me juice and a snack and trying her best to communicate with me using Khanh as our interpreter. I was amazed at how sweet and friendly she was, welcoming a total stranger into her home and trying very hard to be friends. She was one of the highlights of my trip.

After our visit, Khanh and I went to a small cafe to eat lunch. We each had a bowl of "Pho", a Vietnamese noodle soup. The bill was 20,000 Vietnamese Dong (VND). Or, roughly $1.37 in US dollars.

Later in the day, I met Khiem at the hotel. We went to a small restaurant for dinner and an early bed-time.

April 2, 2001

I did not sleep well due to jet-lag. I awakened early and called my friend Khai to arrange our first meeting. Since Khai doesn't speak English, this was not easy. But, between his broken English and my broken Vietnamese we agreed to meet in the hotel lobby immediately. He arrived about 20 minutes later and we attempted to communicate with a little help from Duc, the hotel receptionist. We went to a small, but very elegant restaurant for lunch. Khai had an appointment and had to leave after lunch.

I had heard about a public pool in the Cong Vien Van Hoa, or Municipal Park. I found the park on the map and asked a Xich Lo driver how much he wanted to take me there. The Xich Lo is a pedal cab, a bicycle with a passenger seat in front. The driver wanted 50,000 VND to take me approximately 4 blocks. "Too much." I responded. After a few seconds of negotiating, he agreed to take me there for 20,000 dong (still too much). Located behind the Reunification Palace, the park is a lovely collection of soccer fields, tennis courts, basketball courts, a gymnasium and 3 swimming pools. I paid the required 15,000 VND (about $1 USD) at the pool and changed into my swim suit for swimming. I swam for a few minutes and sprawled out on the deck to get some sun. Suddenly a bell rang, just like in elementary school, and scores of Vietnamese children piled into the pool. It seems that, for a very low price, the kids can swim for 45 minutes and then must vacate the pool. Having paid my 15,000 dong, I had unlimited access to all 3 pools for the entire day. Still feeling tired in the middle of the day, I showered in the basement showers and took another Xich Lo back to the hotel for a nap.

Afterward, I asked the hotel receptionist, a beautiful young lady named Tam, how to go to Vietnam Airlines to book my flight to Hanoi. She told me that she would make the booking for me at no charge. Being no dummy, I went for it. I wanted to fly to Hanoi as soon as possible because my friend and pen pal, Thu Trang, was leaving April 4 to study in Japan. If I wanted to meet her on this trip, I would have to act quickly. The flight to Hanoi was no problem. But, the flight to Hue on April 7 was fully booked. I reluctantly agreed to go on April 8 instead, knowing it would shorten my stay in Hue and/or Danang. I scheduled a flight from Danang to Ho Chi Minh City for April 11, planning to travel by bus from Hue to Danang.

After booking my airline flights, I called Khiem and asked him to join me for dinner after he finished work. Khiem arrived late in the afternoon, after a long Monday at work. We had dinner at a small, open-air cafe and retreated to the hotel to talk and watch MTV. He was very easy to understand as his English was much better than most. He stayed until late in the evening, then left for home. I went to bed, still feeling the effects of jet-lag.