read part 1: Travel Writing - Bangkok
read: Travel Writing, part 2 - Cambodia
read: Travel Writing, part 3 - Vietnam

Travel Writing, part 4 - more Vietnam
It was Sunday, and my last day of the trip. I had the entire day to spend in Ho Chi Minh, and then I would leave Friends A and C to come home, while they continued on for another few days, headed to a beach elsewhere in Vietnam.

The plan for the day was to not get up early (for once), then see a pagoda, the Reunification Palace, and the War Remnants Museum.

Our first mistake was putting me in charge of the map. I usually have an impeccable sense of direction, but I was completely turned around in Ho Chi Minh. I led us completely in the wrong direction for a good 15 minutes before I figured out that I had us heading opposite of where we wanted to be. I got frustrated, but turned us around and marched off in the right direction.

By the time we got to the Reunification Palace, it was time for it to close for lunch. But we found out we could buy tickets and tour the grounds for an hour before they cleared the place for lunch.



We wandered the grounds and read some signs to explain what we were looking at. The signs don't explain much, which I think is their way of "encouraging" you to pay for a tour guide to explain things to you. This was the place where tanks arrived to unify North and South Vietnam, and they say the building is left exactly as it was the day it was no longer occupied. You can wander through the various rooms, but most of it is roped off. It's mostly furniture from the 60s. But significant, palace-y furniture, I guess.

My favorite part was the cow I spotted on the palace grounds. True, we saw no shortage of cows on the roads and throughout the cities of Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam. But I thought it was funny to see this random cow on the manicured lawns of the palace. Seemed out of place.
















After wandering through the museum separately, Friends C, A, and I “reunified” (seemed appropriate at the Reunification Palace), then regrouped and decided that our next stop would be the War Remnants Museum. It was just around the corner, although by Way of the Tyrant, that could mean another good hour walk in the wrong direction anyway.

The museum was closed for lunch when we got there, so we stopped in a café down the street to have lunch and wait for the museum to open again. This is where we met our new best friend- the owner of the café.

We were the only people in there to eat for lunch, and the owner became very excited when she learned we were Americans. This was strange to me, given history with Vietnamese and Americans. But in general, everyone in Vietnam had been really nice and helpful to us.

We ordered our food and watched Chinese television. But our new best friend wanted to hang out with us. She asked us if we wanted to play a game while we waited on our food. We said, sure. She brought out Jenga. And we proceeded to play a rousing game of Jenga with the café owner.

Our food came, so she let us eat. Then we still had time to kill before the museum opened. Our new best friend started to tell us her life story, which ran somewhat like a Vietnamese soap opera, and went on way too long. We ordered desserts.

Then, I fell in love with our new best friend. Because, she looked at the three of us and then remarked that I had to be the YOUNGEST of the three of us, because I looked very young. HA! That bee honey stuff from the day before must be working…. I am older than both A and C by at least a couple of years.

We paid our bill and got up to leave. At this point our new best friend hugged us on the way out, and sent us on our way to the museum. She had mentioned that it was good we had eaten before we went to the museum, because it is a lot to stomach.

She was right.

The War Remnants Museum used to be known as the Museum of American War Crimes. The Vietnamese changed the name to offer more sensitivity to Americans coming to view the museum. However, they did not changed anything else about the museum. It’s a series of photos and exhibits detailing how horrible American G.I.s were during the war in Vietnam. The photos are horrendous and graphic, and all the captions begin something like, “American G.I.s tortured….” or “American G.I.s did something else horrible to these innocent villagers….” And so forth.

The courtyard is strewn with leftover planes and helicopters and bombs used by U.S. troops during the war. At least that part is interesting. The rest of it is a completely biased representation of how America wronged Vietnam during the war. It’s worth seeing. But be prepared to want to tour the museum without speaking, so that no one knows that you are an American.

We left there to head to a pagoda, one that was touted in our guidebook as “the” pagoda to see. We got there and didn’t understand the big deal. We walked inside and felt like we were disturbing the people inside who were worshipping their Buddhas. We wandered around for a few minutes, but never saw where this was a tourist attraction or something we needed to see, so we left.

My next goal was to shop. We planned to shop on our way back to the hotel. But, we were quite far away, and my map skills were questionable. So we opted for a cab to take us back to the hotel. Friend A then went back to the room, and Friend C and I shopped until we dropped.

We headed back to the hotel. I needed to start packing, and then it would be time for my last supper before heading to the airport. We found Friend A suffering from a migraine. So, I packed in the dark, showered, got her set up with supplies to weather a migraine, then Friend C and I headed out for my last supper. It didn’t seem right to go through the ritual last supper of a trip without all three of us, but eh, what’re you going to do?

We ate, shopped some more, then went back to the hotel to get my stuff and make sure Friend A wasn’t dying. She wasn’t. But I hated to leave while she was sick. Really, we were quite a trio for this trip. I had been sick and unable to breathe for about half of the trip. Friend C hadn’t felt well, and was dealing with blistered and damaged feet. Then Friend A topped it off with migraine madness. It’s a wonder we survived at all.

I said my farewells with a very, very, very heavy heart. I hate the end of a trip, and after spending two weeks straight with one or both of my friends, I immediately felt empty without them as I rode in the taxi alone to the airport. I checked in, shopped more in the airport (for the LOVE, why can't I quit shopping???), made it on my plane, and left Asia behind.

continued in Travel Writing, part 5 – Asia Aftermath

C.T.