M-whY

I signed up for a half day trip out to the Cu Chi, a tunnel network that at its height, ran for over 250km and stretched all the way from the Cambodian border to HCMC. Khanh, a Vietnamese war veteran who fought on the American side, spoke exceptionally good english, and gave us some background info on Vietnam's war torn past.

The country has had a long history of conflict with other countries which also included confrontations with France, resistance to Japan during WWII, a preemptive invasion of Cambodia, and the 17 day war with China that followed. Despite the list though, today's focus would be on the Americans.

It began even before we reached Cu Chi. On the 90 minute bus ride out there, a (presumably) European couple started talking about how the past US election was a sham.

"Not everyone is allowed to vote," said the husband to his wife. "It's ridiculous for them to think they're a democratic country."

"That's not true," interjected a (presumably) American sitting nearby.

"Yes it is. I read somewhere that blacks in Florida were denied the right to vote. They showed up at the voting booths and got turned away."

"No, no, that's so not true."

"Then tell me what happened then."

Things might've gotten ugly, but fortunately, Khanh stepped in and defused the situation.

"I don't think anyone knows all the facts. Let's try not to get into heavy political discussions today?"

The bashing continued though, when we were led to a small video room to watch a black and white anti-American propoganda film. Celebrating "American killer heroes," it glorified all those who had stood up and resisted the "crazy pack of devils." The footage was very poignant, but the commentary was so absurd, I wasn't sure whether to hang my head in shame or laugh out loud.

Afterwards Khanh led us through the entrance gate where he pointed at the ground and asked the group, "So can anyone tell me where the entrance to the tunnels is?"

Someone ventured a guess.

"No, sorry, you owe me 5000 dong. It's actually here," he said, brushing aside some leaves and revealing a wooden door. With the dimensions of only 25cm by 37cm, it wasn't very large. He demonstrated how the guerillas would've camoflauged the entrance after entering.

"Now, who would like to see if they can get in? Size 32 waist and lower only!" A couple people who tried got stuck at the hips. I managed to squeeze in, but just barely. Probably a result of not having eaten any fast food for the past month.

When attempts to take over the tunnel network with infantry proved unsuccessful, the US turned to artillery and B-52's, transforming the area into a barren wasteland. Agent Orange, a defoliant whose effects are still being felt by the local populations today, were sprayed in hopes of removing the cover in which the guerillas hid. Trees have since been replanted, and Khanh led us through the young forest, pointing out bomb craters, showing us some trap exhibits, and providing very insightful commentary along the way. The sound of gunfire echoed through the air, giving us a taste of what it might've felt like back in the day...

Well, no. Actually, the gunfire was from a shooting range located within the historical site itself. At US$6 for five bullets, it wasn't cheap, but I knew I'd regret it if I passed up the chance to shoot an AK-47 or M-16. Unlike the ones in Cambodia, run by the corrupt military, this one seemed to be somewhat legit. My dollars would at least go towards maintaining the grounds (or making more cheesy documentaries). I shelled out the money and took my place, once again putting an American behind the sights in Vietnam.

Finally, it was time to explore the tunnels. One by one, we entered to passage with narrow walls and low ceilings. Dimensions ranged anywhere from 60-80cm wide and 80-120cm tall. It would've been a tight fit for the Vietnamese, much less an American. Heck, Gimli would've felt claustrophobic in here.

Divided into three sections, exits were placed every 30m for people who didn't fancy going through the whole thing. Dim lights every few meters told us which way to go, so people wouldn't make a wrong turn somewhere and end up at the Cambodian border without a visa. The ceiling was so low during one portion of the tunnel that I had to resort to a crawl, but for the most part, I was able to get through just crouching.

This pretty much concluded the half day Cu Chi tour. When we got back to HCMC, I had a notion to just crawl into bed and go back to sleep. But as I was only planning on staying here for another day, I wanted to see as much as I could before I left. I walked through the city to the Reunification Palace, where on April 30, 1975, North Vietnamese tanks 390 and 843 stormed the gate, marking the day that Saigon surrendered. Seeing the comfortable couches of the entertainment rooms though only made me more sleepy, so lost upon me were the significance of the palace as a government office and military headquarter. No point in pushing myself when tired, I thought, and returned to my room for an afternoon nap.

I came out of my hotel after dark, as the guerillas would have done. My purpose was not to blow up enemy supplies or bunkers though, but rather to find something to eat. The government's official stance on the war is to remember it, but not dwell on it, and motorbike drivers everywhere seemed to take this to heart, not caring whether I was American, Chinese, Japanese, or French, offering me rides to wherever I wanted. All for a fee, of course. Yes, as long as I have tourist dollars, I'm sure I'll be welcome here.

Thanks to everyone for their support and comments! Knowing people are reading keeps me motivated to continue the updates!