Ten million people and four million motorbikes… It's no surprise that Ho Chi Minh City sees traffic jams of mammoth proportions. HCMC is edgy, energetic and entirely captivating. I've written in previous posts about my attraction to places which do not solely rely on tourism for survival. HCMC is definitely one of those places - at anytime of the day or night, something is happening and there's great food and culture from around the world. An energy bug that's easy to catch...
We cruise up the Cu Chi region, north east of HCMC, where a spider web network of tunnels made the area famous during the ‘Vietnam’ War. At its peak, the tunnel network spread over 250 square kilometres but carpet bombing and post war disrepair have taken their toll on all but a few. The remainder have been developed as a tourist attraction, where fat tourists can struggle through the stinking hot and cramped tunnels and take in the real story of the war ( read vicious anti-American polemic).
With HCMC doing our heads in, we gear up and point south to the Delta, a mass of canals, rivers and mangroves. We catch a boat from Can Tho for a vouryeristic inspection of the floating markets, an interesting and somewhat difficult way to trade goods. The early morning river is heaving with all manner of floating craft filled to the brim with fresh produce.
With HCMC doing our heads in, we gear up and point south to the Delta, a mass of canals, rivers and mangroves. We catch a boat from Can Tho for a vouryeristic inspection of the floating markets, an interesting and somewhat difficult way to trade goods. The early morning river is heaving with all manner of floating craft filled to the brim with fresh produce. 
Most of the traders pay little attention to us, hurrying to complete their bartering in the rain. And as the rain comes pouring down, spirits are dampened and clothes are soaked - time for food and beverages. They say the Mekong rots your feet right off your legs, and with rain and humidity like this, I can't help but agree - my hands and feet and wrinkled like an old man.
Soon we are heading back to the big smoke, ready to head to Cambodia in the morning. Looking back on my one month in Vietnam, I realise I've been really trying hard to like the place. With some notable exceptions aside (Sapa and Ninh Binh), I felt that most Vietnamese are relatively uninterested in me as a tourist - especially in the north of the country. At first, I took this as arrogance - they couldn’t care less if I was there or not. But as I watched the seething rabble, I saw Vietnamese people treating their fellow country men with equal disinterest.
On the roads, motorcycles would fearlessly hurtle around corners without a glance, oftentimes causing serious accidents. I guess with 80 odd million people vying for your attention, it’s overwhelming to pay attention to everyone. I didn’t feel inspired by the passion of the people - unless I was about to spend money I saw glazed eyes. Unlike their Thai cousins, who are friendly and genuinely outgoing, Vietnamese people seriously don’t care. I respect someone who knows what they want- if they make a choice not to interact with me, that’s fine. But when the overwhelming impression is one of nonchalance, I’m curious to understand why. The jury is still out on that one…
On the roads, motorcycles would fearlessly hurtle around corners without a glance, oftentimes causing serious accidents. I guess with 80 odd million people vying for your attention, it’s overwhelming to pay attention to everyone. I didn’t feel inspired by the passion of the people - unless I was about to spend money I saw glazed eyes. Unlike their Thai cousins, who are friendly and genuinely outgoing, Vietnamese people seriously don’t care. I respect someone who knows what they want- if they make a choice not to interact with me, that’s fine. But when the overwhelming impression is one of nonchalance, I’m curious to understand why. The jury is still out on that one…
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