More Saigon ...
Trip Start
Nov 01, 2007
1
17
26
Trip End
Nov 20, 2007
Ho Chi Minh City,
Vietnam
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
We got back to the Huong Sen hotel at around 6pm on Monday night. Spending a day and a half in the Mekong Delta has been an incredible experience, and I feel very fortunate to have been here. In many ways, life is very different to mine: life is lived much more in the open air, walls supporting the roof rather than keeping the elements of life out. Life seems simpler, dealing with the basic needs of life rather than the acquisitive "me me me" search for celebrity status and global brands. Yesterday, I was lucky to witness local industry, brick and tile making, a lady weaving conical hats, men and women sitting in front of their homes whilst making knives. Industry was on a small scale rather than the massive conglomerates of the western world. The people I saw in the Mekong Delta work damned hard, much longer hours than we do for much less money. I watched men and women making ceramics and terracotta pots, the process was fascinating. That beautiful blue pot that you bought at your local store such as B&Q or Homebase, the ceramic planters you have in your garden - did you ever wonder who made them or how? I for sure have never given them a thought before, and that shows how thoughtless I am about the world. I won't be looking at these pots and planters with so little regard in the future.
Let's take your large blue pot. To make it, a man takes two moulds and packs them with clay. Men do this because of the size of the moulds packed with clay are heavy. The clay is pressed into the mould by hand so it can take on any patterns. The mould is then removed and the resultant pot left to sit for a number of days to dry before firing and glazing. The mould is then cleaned before the process begins again. These guys do this day in, day out, in the intense heat and humidity. And for so little money. My eyes have again been opened and I feel bad that I'm a party to this kind of exploitation. Yes, I know they're paid, but is it really a fair wage? I don't think so. I'm becoming a bit of a preacher, here, and that was never my intention with this travel blog, so for anyone who has read this far, my apologies, but I am changed because of my experience and I feel compelled to write it down so I can look back in years to come and remember why I feel this way.
Well, that was an enormous digression from what I'd intended to write, but maybe it's a good contrast to the kind of tourism I'm experiencing just now. We got back to Saigon last night in rush hour, and this caused a frenzy of photography among many of my group. Maybe I'm just jaded but I've been experiencing rush hours in many cities for some years now. I lived in China and have regularly been mown down by bikes, and have indeed been part of the traffic. Here, Saigon is a city of motorbikes, they're everywhere. Rush hour, you see the streets packed with them for hundreds of metres in every direction. People don't wait for the lights to change; many mount the pavements to get ahead. And yet there doesn't seem to be that many accidents, and people re reasonable. Road rage just doesn't seem to exist here. I saw a prang: a cyclist went into the back of a scooter, and everyone was so apologetic/ perhaps it'd e nice to have this attitude in England where even I get wound up, and I don't have a driving licence! So, photo ops galore. I wonder if anyone would take photos of rush hour in the UK, or is it just too normal and familiar to appear interesting? Don't know, I guess all of life is interesting although I think if I pulled my camera out to memorialise some guy's apoplectic fury on the road, I'd probably get the cap beaten out of me and the camera would become an ex-camera very quickly!
So, we get cleaned up; how you appreciate a hot shower in a clean and spider-free bathroom! And then it's time for a little dressing up: for me, my one and only skirt I have on the trip, and a vest, plus the obligatory Tevas, somewhat stinky after the mud and water of the river. Be glad you aren't travelling with me these Tevas could be used for germ warfare, I think!
I took Michele to the Rex Hotel rooftop bar for a pre-dinner drink. It was a good experience, very relaxing. Saigon District 1 is certainly pretty and vibrant in the evening, twinkling lights everywhere, shimmering silver Christmas trees in random and unexpected places. Next, dinner in a local restaurant. It wasn't full but the waiters were clearing our table before we'd even eaten our meals! Helen joined us for dinner, and afterwards we went back to the Rex because she hadn't been there and it was a sight too pretty to miss.
I still feel the same about Saigon, although I'm mellowing a little. It's not the place for me. I can't fall madly in love with everywhere I go. It's a fascinating city; it seems rich, especially for a Communist country, but is still one of huge contrasts. Street kids are everywhere, and poor families regularly send children to orphanages so that they get food and an education. A book to check out, "Bridge over my sorrows" about an Irish lady, Christina Nobel. In 1975 she had a dream that told her to go to Vietnam so she came here to help the street kids. She helped a local orphanage and has been raising funds to help ever since. Known as Mama Tina, all the streets know her.
