Chu Chi Tunnels & Mekong Delta, Vietnam

(Oct. 2-9) With our wills being nibbled down daily by the constant requests for us to open up our pocket books by the scooter and rickshaw drivers in Saigon we figured the only way to get some piece of mind was to sign up for some day trips. We caved into the, "if you can't beat'em join'em" slogan. Travel agencies are a dime a dozen in Vietnam, Thailand and Cambodia with nearly every guest house and hotel demonstrating with posters and pictures the sights only they can show you at a "discount" price. We forked out 40 bucks each for a three day tour of the Mekong Delta that included breakfast and lunch, accomodation, transportation and even offered us passage back up to Cambodia.

I'll admit that I was starved for some interaction with other travellers. It's not as easy as I thought to meet people on the road. Sometimes it's taxing to recount what and why we're doing over and over again. Solitude often wins out over repetition. An organized tour would kill quite a few birds with one stone.

Ironically, a substantial amount of tourism revolves around the Vietnam War. Our first day trip took us to the Chu Chi Tunnels where the Chu Chi Guerillas, who were sympathetic to the North, constructed and elaborate system of tunnels for fighting, living and surviving bomb attacks. For over forty years the Chu Chi Guerillas dug the tunnels by hand. To appease Western curiosity in entering the tunnels a section was widened to double the size so our fat foreign bodies could enter without fear of getting stuck. Even at twice the size of the original it was still clastrophobic to crouch down and crawl through the dark dank tunnels. Of the three legs of the tunnel Matt and I opted out at the first exit gasping nervously for air as soon as we reached light. For lack of a better analogy we were both shell shocked when our tour guide told us for a few US dollars we could shoot a round of amunition from a semi-automatic weapon of our choice. The irony of shooting a gun at the very location of a battlefield was not lost on Matt or myself. No matter how many times I heard a gun fired the piercing pop pop pop noise shocked my senses and deafened my ears. The carnival atmosphere of the shooting range clouded my perspective over the ingenuity of the tunnels.

The tour of the Mekong Delta was our way of surrendering to the bad weather. Our hopes of fleeing to an island or a beach was thwarted by a sky that had no intention of easing up it's gushing flow of water. We started off our tour of the delta by visiting a series of islands named after mythical and real creatures sacred to the Vietnamese. There we were paddled on dug out canoes through canals with canopies of palm trees to see traditional coconut candy makers and to sample honey tea to the chorus of village musicians. Tours are organized for two reasons, to get your money and to get more of your money. Conveniently after you've witnessed an artisian widdle his or her craft that very thing along with other trinkets are for sale too. I usually put my camera away in those situations for fear my collusion would require me to pay for their craft.

After a long day of boats and bumping bus rides our group separated into two with our group heading off to a Vietnamese home stay. With the harvest moon overhead and floating candles on the water we glided through the semi-darkness to our bungalows on the Mekong. Yellow and green fire flies sparkled in the bushes adding to the ambiance. Awaiting us was a feast so we gorged liberally, some of us too liberally. Our after dinner entertainment came from our hosts who killed a couple of snakes and boiled a soup in their honor. For the first time we were surrounded by travellers like us who were taking extended time to globe trot. Our table was lively and light hearted and we all enjoyed sharing war stories of travel.

For me the best part of the Mekong Delta tour was on the last day on the slow boat to Cambodia. On board our slow boat the tour organizers secured our visas and exchanged currancies with wads of monies in almost every conceivable bank note. I cease to be surprised at the industries created by tourism. The boat ride hugged the shoreline granting the perfect perspective to get a bird's eye view of life along the banks. The brown waters of the Mekong is everything to people who line it's banks. People fish in it, bath in it and even use it as a toilet. What I loved was the joyous greetings we would receive from the children living in the shanties along the river. I felt like we were on parade.