Daily Times

I had first heard of the country through news media accounts, books and films about the Vietnam War. By far the most riveting was Graham Greene’s novel, ‘The Quiet American’. And then there was the gruesome film starring Marlon Brando, ‘Apocalypse Now’(SHOULDER)

Bright and early on a lazy October morning, a Cathay Pacific flight from Hong Kong touched down at the Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon) airport. I had come to fulfill a long standing desire to tour Vietnam.

I had first heard of the country through news media accounts, books and films about the Vietnam War. By far the most riveting was Graham Greene’s novel, ‘The Quiet American.’ The film version starred Michael Caine as the reporter from The Times based in Saigon. He befriends an American aid worker and discovers to his horror that the man is really a CIA agent. That man’s mission is to create an explosion in the city centre which would get the US a foothold in the country.

And then there was the gruesome film starring Marlon Brando, ‘Apocalypse Now.’ It was derived from Joseph Conrad’s ‘Heart of Darkness,’ which was set in the Congo. Brando played the role of Colonel Kurtz, a Green Beret who goes absent without leave and is hunted down by his own side. The helicopter sequences were iconic.

Over the years, I had met many people from Vietnam, young and old. I had also sampled their wonderful cuisine. And then I had almost visited the country as a consultant a few years but canceled the trip because of a bad cold.

Finally, I was now standing in that mysterious land where the all mighty Americans had fought for years and been defeated by a third world country. The relationship between the two countries had turned cordial. American tourists came to Vietnam in large numbers. Back home, they bought shirts and pants made in Vietnam at major department stores.

In the middle of the city there is a statue of the man who won the war, Ho Chi Minh. The city is now named after him. But the natives don’t mind if you call it Saigon

We checked into our hotel in Saigon, ate our breakfast in a restaurant located at the top which had an amazing international menu. We savoured the meal while enjoying sweeping views of the Saigon River and its city skyline. The architecture of a high-rise building loomed through a window. It was iconic.

Afterwards, we went out to check out the War Remnants Museum. We discovered that the Vietnamese called it, “The American War.”The museum had some wonderful exhibits but some were very really hard to watch. They showed the most gruesome acts of torture being carried out, such as children being eviscerated in front of their parents in order to extract a confession.

Outside the museum, large weaponry left behind by the Americans was on display. It included helicopters, tanks and aircraft, a silent comment on the failure of military superiority. The entrance to the museum was guarded by two T-59 tanks. They had broken through the gate of the American embassy after the last helicopter had lifted off its roof. The task of hoisting the Vietnamese flag was left to the soldiers in the tanks. They had taken possession of the embassy, declared an end to the war, and symbolically won their country back from the Americans.

We had walked over to the museum from the hotel. But we decided to take a taxi back to the hotel, since the jet lag was catching up on us and it had become very hot and humid. Then something happened.

Half way into the journey, a taxi appeared out of nowhere. The two drivers began to talk with each other after rolling down their windows. Then both taxis pulled over to the roadside.

We were asked to switch taxis. I offered to pay the driver of the first taxi but was told that was not necessary. His politeness impressed me.

Little did I know what lay ahead! The second taxi was driving toward the Saigon River, in the opposite direction of the hotel. I told the driver to change course, since I did not want the scenic view.

He was not happy with my comment. But he did make a left turn on the next major street in the direction of the hotel. Half a mile later, he stopped abruptly and told us we had arrived. I said I can’t see the hotel. He said it is just a two block walk through the shops.

I looked at the fare and reached in my wallet to pay him but I did not have the exact amount. He did not have the change and we got into an argument. Finally, I decided to end the conversation by giving him the entire amount.

Once on the sidewalk, I did the usual checking of my front pockets and discovered that my cell phone was missing. My heart skipped a beat. It must have been slipped out of my pocket in the taxi.

I looked for the taxi but it was long gone. Later, the hotel tried to track it down but to no avail. I was told that I had been the victim of a scam. Operatives from the north were playing tricks with tourists and using every method available to snatch their phones, their wallets and backpacks.

Finally, I was now standing in that mysterious land where the all mighty Americans had fought for years and been defeated by a third world country. The relationship between the two countries had turned cordial. American tourists came to Vietnam in large numbers. Back home, they bought shirts and pants made in Vietnam at major department stores

In the middle of the city there is a statue of the man who won the war, Ho Chi Minh. The city is now named after him. But the natives don’t mind if you call it Saigon.

In the city there is a fine French Cathedral which hearkens back to the era when the country was a French colony. One day we checked it out along with the old post office with a big portrait of Ho and the adjacent open air market and eateries.

On the next day, we went to view the tunnels of the Viet Cong on a fast speedboat. We were given plastic rain jackets which I thought were meant to protect us from the spray from the river. We did not put them on. On the way back, though, we were drenched with rain and that is when the jackets proved their worth.

The tunnels were situated in a forest. The area was full of tunnels, death traps and mines (now de-activated). The entrances into the tunnels were very steep and narrow and difficult to enter. Once inside, you were gripped with darkness and claustrophobia.

Our guide told us that the slim Vietnamese physique allowed easy entry and exit. The Viet Cong were hard to find; in the daytime they worked in the fields, and as night fell they disappeared into the tunnels. When the enemy came, they would fall into ditches that were booby trapped with metal spikes mounted on bamboo poles.

American tanks and guns were on display. Children were gleefully climbing on them and posing for pictures with their proud parents.

There was also a firing range. I tried my hand at an AK-47 automatic rifle. The recoil was stronger than the blast. Several others were firing these guns as well and the air was thick with the aroma of ammunition.

That evening we hired a taxi to take us to a fine restaurant. It rained really hard on the way. The restaurant was located in a house. Traditional Vietnamese cuisine was beautifully served. That was a nice way to cap off our tour of the charming country.

The writer has toured 36 countries on all six continents. He can be reached at ahmadfaruqui@gmail.com

Published in Daily Times, January 18^th 2018.