Ho Chih Minh City

Dearest Rachel –

Well, at least this place, I expected to be seeing, if I were to wind up as a tourist in Vietnam. Not that I ever expected to be a tourist in Vietnam, to be sure, but on a trip like this, you get the whole buffet to taste and explore.

Although, given my attempts to stay on the straight and narrow, weight-wise, I probably should lay off of the ‘buffet’ analogy, particularly given that I’m here on a cruise ship, where those sorts of things are all too common.

While no longer the capital of South Vietnam (or of any part of Vietnam, for that matter), the city now named for the leader of the Vietcong (and the Vietnamese Communist Party) is the largest city in the country, coming in at just under nine million people (by comparison, Hanoi has just under eight million; no other city comes anywhere close). As a result, it’s the largest financial center in Vietnam, contributing around a quarter of the country’s total GDP; its economy is also the biggest within the ASEAN (Association of Southeast Asian Nations) apart from member nations’ capitals.

The Champa have made the area their home since the 2nd century A.D., under the name of Baigaur. At some point in time, it was then taken over by the Cambodians, who renamed it Prey Nokor. Under the control of the Vietnamese, it was officially renamed Gia Định, which it kept until the time of the French conquest in the 1860s, when it adopted the name Sài Gòn, and served as the capital of French Indochina (which included modern Laos and Cambodia as well as Vietnam), and upon the partitioning of the region after WWII, of South Vietnam. Even today, however, the informal name of Sài Gòn remains in daily speech, although technically, ‘Sài Gòn’ is used to refer to the city centre and certain adjacent areas, while Ho Chi Minh City refers to all of its urban and rural districts.

Of course, its current name is in honor of “Uncle Ho,” the leader of the Vietnamese Communist Party and the Vietcong, who unified the nation, north and south, under the Communist banner in 1976. And, much as we refer to George Washington as “the Father of His Country,” so too do the Vietnamese refer to their founding leader in such affectionate and familial a fashion. Part of me thinks it makes sense, especially after hearing our guide in Nha Trang speak of him in such glowing terms; part of me thinks I would hear similar paeans to the Young, Dear and Great Leaders were we to be visiting the likes of Pyongyang (not that they seem all that keen for anyone to visit them, regardless of whether we would bring hard currency into their hermit kingdom). I don’t know what to think; clearly, as would be said on Facebook about other types of relationships, “it’s complicated.”

For all that our family would talk about religious demographics in our nightly reviews of upcoming ports, I’m not even sure that this is an avenue worth pursuing. Sure, Ho Chih Minh City is named for the leader of the Communist Party of Vietnam, who waged bloody war to unify the country under the Party’s red banner, but our first stop tomorrow will be at the Notre Dame Cathedral, with its pointed arches, flying buttresses, and ornate decorations in the Gothic Revival style; regular Catholic masses are still held here, and visitors are welcome to attend these services if interested. It seems Vietnam’s brand of socialism (and they call themselves “socialist” rather than “communist” at this point) isn’t quite as at odds with religion, or Western culture, for that matter, than one would expect it to be. Even if you argue that to destroy such things would be bad for tourism, such a capitalistic perspective would be anathema to a ‘true’ socialist, let alone a communist. So perhaps it’s not as pure as Karl Marx would have it be (which is probably a good thing).

Although, at the same time, we’ll also be visiting what is now known as Reunification Palace. The former home of the President of South Vietnam, it served as the political and administrative center of South Vietnam. Its modernist architecture, characterized by its sleek lines, open spaces, and functional design, reflects the architectural trends of the 1960s. It witnessed several significant events, including the 1963 coup d’état and the Fall of Saigon in 1975; the image of a North Vietnamese tank crashing through the palace gates is one of the most iconic images of the end of the Vietnam War.

These days, it serves as a museum that preserves the history and heritage of the Vietnam War era – including a well-preserved glimpse into the luxurious lifestyle of South Vietnam’s political elite during the 1960s and 1970s.

On a less controversial note, we’ll also be visiting Cholon, the city’s sprawling Chinatown quarter. Despite the Chinese and the Vietnamese having a certain amount of… let’s just say history… Chinese immigrants settled in the area beginning in the late 18th century, and developed it into a thriving commercial and cultural hub. Over the years, Cholon has grown to become an integral part of Ho Chi Minh City, blending Chinese and Vietnamese influences. During the French colonial period, it was officially incorporated into Saigon even as it retained its own distinct identity and cultural heritage, flourishing as a major trading center, attracting merchants and traders from across Southeast Asia.

And our final stop – at least, I suppose it will be, despite appearing to take us back to where the cathedral and palace are – will be Dong Khoi Street, a commercial boulevard flanked by posh boutiques, luxury hotels and stylish cafes. Basically, this is the place where one can spend one’s time and money (which I’ll need to do, having gathered more than I’d want to keep too late in the day today) on souvenirs and food before meeting back up with the bus for the return trip to port.

So that’s what I’m told to expect for tomorrow, honey. In which case, I’d appreciate it if you could keep an eye on me, and wish me luck, as I’m sure I’m going to need it.