From Saipan to Saigon

I lied to most people about my trip to Ho Chi Minh City. The majority of people I spoke with before my departure thought I was going with a friend. A look of horror was usually the response I got when I told the handful of people the truth—I was traveling to a communist country by myself.

I wasn’t too worried. I’d traveled by myself before. I was more worried about not going crazy spending the week alone than for my safety. But as a lone female traveler, I did take some precautions. I worked it all out beforehand. I was going to be a 26-year-old married Canadian who was meeting up with her husband. I even brought along a ring to wear if I needed to. Only those I felt safe around would find out I was really a 23-year-old single American.

So with my plan in mind, and my backpack and purse in hand, I was ready for Saigon.

If only it were that easy.

I got off the plane at midnight and headed straight for immigration, where I was denied entry into the country because of passport and visa issues. I’ve never had problems going through immigration before, although I’m always very nervous, which the officers tend to catch on to and give me ‘a look’ that then makes me even more nervous.

My worst fear came true when the immigration officer said I couldn’t enter the country. A thousand things were running through my mind, namely: It’s midnight. I know no one. I can’t leave the airport. I’m in a communist country.

I thought I was going to have to board a plane back to South Korea.

Thankfully, the combined look of fear and confusion on my face finally made an impact and an airport official helped me sort things out. Two hours after landing in Vietnam I was in a taxi heading to my hostel. Too bad the taxi driver didn’t know where the hostel was located and didn’t speak English. Great way to start the week, I thought to myself. The driver found the street—one of the busiest in the city—but couldn’t find the actual building. We began to walk along the street at 1:30 in the morning. I never said I was smart, only adventurous.

Another man helped us out and 20 minutes later I collapse in bed, thankful to know that most strangers are kind and willing to help.

The next morning I woke up bright and early ready to experience Saigon. I had done some research beforehand and knew I wanted to visit the Reunification Palace and War Remnants Museum. Since I was staying in district 1, all the major sites were in walking distance. I started at the Notre Dame Cathedral, one of those places where you stand and look at the beauty of the architecture for a few minutes, snap a few photos and head on your way. Across the street was the main post office, which is a tourist attraction itself, and where I bought some postcards and mailed them off to family members.

Because nearly all the museums close during the lunch hour, I ate lunch before heading to the Reunification Palace around 1 pm. The Reunification Palace, also known as the Independence Palace, is the former palace of South Vietnam before Saigon fell to the north on April 30, 1975.

A replica of tank #843, which crashed through the gate, is parked on the lawn in front of the five-floor building. Admission is 15,000 Vietnamese dong for adults. (The exchange rate is approximately 17,500 dong to each U.S. dollar)

Next up was the War Remnants Museum, which, according to one guide I read, is where Americans can see all the atrocities our country ravaged on Vietnam. The guide wasn’t joking. Picture after picture showed the devastating effects of Agent Orange and Pink on the bodies of survivors. Some victims, born as late as 1996, are still feeling the effects. Quotes made by U.S. officials admitting to alleged misdeeds lined the walls. One of the most interesting things I noticed about the museum was not what was in it, but who was in it. Everywhere I looked I saw only Caucasians and heard only American English. Other sites seemed to have an even distribution of ethnicities and nationalities, but not at this museum. Admission is 15,000 Vietnamese dong for adults.

After a full day of nothing but my own thoughts, I knew I needed to talk to people. So began my search for a new friend. I spotted two girls who I guessed correctly were Americans. We began chatting and decided to have dinner together. I think they were just as intrigued by my story of living on Saipan as I was by their story. Since September, they’ve been backpacking through New Zealand, Australia and, now, southeast Asia, spending the nights in hostels or camping and spending the day visiting museums, meeting people and trying to learn about different cultures. We ate at a little vegetarian restaurant down a side street and talked for hours, like we were old friends. That’s one thing I’ve learned about traveling: you can bond really quickly, if you are open and want to.

The next day, my final in Vietnam, I began by walking around and exploring more of Saigon. I can walk for hours and love people watching.

I knew, even before I arrived, that I wanted to ride a motorbike.

As the “Capital of Motorbikes” it is not hard to find one to ride, especially when pegged as a tourist walking down the street.

I caved and took up one of the many offers to ride on the back of a bike for a small fee. I was just going to take it to Saigon River, not around the entire city, as is the norm. I just wanted to get the feel of it. But zooming through the streets of Ho Chi Minh was exhilarating and not half as scary as I thought it would be. I liked it so much I took the driver up on his offer and had him take me around the city, stopping at major sites like pagodas and the Opera House so I could take pictures. Unfortunately, riding a motorbike does not come without a possible injury, as I learned. I burned a small part of my leg on the tailpipe as I was getting off at one point. But the soon-to-develop scar will always be a reminder of my time in the country.

Shopping at the Ben Thanh Market was my last must-do for the trip. At this popular market, mostly packed full of tourists, one can find everything they need (and don’t need)—shoes, chopsticks, coffee, picture frames, watches and much more. Such markets tend to overwhelm me. I had to prepare myself and make a full walk through before I made any purchasing decisions. I decided on several sets of chopsticks, a package of coffee (fun fact: Vietnam is the second largest coffee exporter, behind Brazil) and some sandals. I also bought some soup from one of the vendors in the market. Again, maybe not the smartest thing to do since I wasn’t sure what I was eating and how it had been prepared, but this trip was obviously not about being safe.