Winding down

I'm coming to the last few days of travel and am back in Saigon. Took a flight from Vientiane to Saigon with a short stopover in Phnom Penh - which had surprisingly posh airport terminals with good bookstores (uncensored newspaper selections), shops and cafes.

Bought a CD of classical Cambodian music - which I'd heard one evening on the riverfront near the Royal Palace in Phnom Penh. The music blew me away - it was like a combination of tabla-esque drumming with circular Balinese-like bell instruments (that enclosed the player) and complemented by a xylophone like instrument. The musicians would be given donations by people on the way to make their offerings at a temple.

Enjoyed the Saigon nightlife more this time around (perhaps because I didn't have to get up at 7am to catch a bus or tour). Something about Saigon reminds me of Taipei - my friend Ly and I had a late night snack of seafood noodles on a streetside stand. A lot of people were out, and the city still seemed to be humming with youthful energy. While Hanoi is more picturesque (with its french colonial remnants) perhaps, I've always seemed to connect with Saigonese more easily.

I went to the Ben tham market to a fave restaurant, Nam Giao. Its hard to find, since its tucked away from view inside a courtyard (accessible via an alley). The place serves amazing crab paste noodles and several rice paste dishes. A feast could be had for 2-3 dollars. One the way back, I hired a cyclo to my hotel. I've always had a soft spot for cyclo drivers. After the war, the North Vietnamese, in a show of vindictiveness (and perhaps taking a cue from their Communist Chinese counterparts) forbade many professionals (doctors, lawyers etc) from working in their trained fields - the only work they were allowed to do was to be a cyclo driver. This was likewise the fate of many who were sympathetic to the Americans or served in the South Vietnamese army. The cyclo is a like a rickshaw/bycycle combination - that requires an inordinate amount of skill and stamina to peddle through the chaotic traffic of Saigon. It is a real anachronism in this day of motorbike taxis and air-conditioned metered taxis.

My cyclo driver, who was glad to have my hard won business, noted that in his opinion, the real money was in Hanoi. Saigon only seems more modern because the rich from the north (who got their wealth from party connections and subsequent corruption) poured money in developing hotels, restaurants and shopping centers in Saigon. The man on the street, he noted with dark irony, were better off when the Americans were still here.

Today, I'm catching a flight back to Hanoi to pick up a few things and see old friends before flying to Taiwan friday for some family engagements. The mixed emotions that accompany the end of travels (for now) and uncertainty towards the future is barely containable.