saigon

Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC), formerly known as Saigon... is still actually known as Saigon here in Vietnam.

The traffic is intense and the food is delicious. Like Bankok, Saigon feels like any other modern city. Tall buildings line the street, designer shops are around every corner, and it's easy to see a name you recognize: Levis, Adidas, even KFC. But sharp contrasts remane betwen Saigon and a western city. Instead of yellow taxis and large cars, the trafic here consists mainly of scooters, cyclos (bicylcle-powered taxi), motorbikes, and bicylcles.

Today Sylvan and I explored HCMC and enjoyed a short morning run in the nearby park, delicions Pho soup for breakfast, a massage by the blind in the afternoon, rice noodles with clams for lunch, and a miriad of other delicious and amazing snacks and beverages. I bought some custard apples (see photo) and lychees at a local fruit shop, enjoyed a chocolate crousant at a bakery, had a taro perl milk tea for 10,000 dong (75 cents), and sampled some local snacks: sticky bun thing with meat and egg in the middle of sweet bread, some ricey bean paste pudding wrapped in a banana leaf, and some deep fried bready goodness.

Oh I almost forgot... the greatest tasty temptation I enjoyed today was the strongest coffee I've ever had in my life. For 6,000 dong (about 40 cents) I got the strongest milk-coffee in the world. All the beverages in SE Asia are really sweet. Sylvan and I think it's to balance out the spicey in everything else. Sweet cuts spicey. So usually when you get a milk tea, they pour a bunch of condensed milk into the bottom of a glass, fill it part way with really thick, dark, amazing coffee, throw a bunch of ice in it and send you on your way. Sylvan and I were walking in no particular direction to no particular direction when we found ourselves walking down a lovely little alley. There were local kids playing, people sellnig food, and not a tourist in sight. We came upon a little old Vietnamese woman brewing and sellig coffe off of a counter in front of her house. I'd been wanting to try "street" coffee so we decided to give it a go. She spoke very little english but figred out that I wanted milk-coffee with ice. She poured the condensed milk, which by the way, I love. I love condensed milk. How have I gone my whole life without knowing the joys of condensed milk? Anyway... Then she poured in some dark coffee out of an old water bottle. Next she poured in some really thick coffee out of one of the pots she was brewing on the counter. She set the cup down and I watched the nearly black liquid start to mix with the creamy condenced milk. She grabbed a big block of ice with a towell. Sylvan watched her in awe as she grabbed a large metal tool and lifted it high abover her head. SMACK. The tool broke the ice with a loud crack and sent pieces of ice flying in every direction. Many small pieces of ice smacked Sylvan in the face. Sylvan closed his eyes tight as his head flailed backwards in response to the little shards of ice. When he opened his eyes, his eyeballs seemed to roll around in their sockets. You know, like when cartoon characters get hit in the head really hard. It was hillarious. He was fine (no ice chunks in his eyes). The woman preparing the coffee didn't notice that she'd shot us with ice, nor did she care, and she continued to break the ice into tiny pieces. Eah crack grew a bit quieter as the pieces got smaller. She filled my glass with ice, threw in a straw and a plastic spoon and said "six thousand." It was the STRONGEST, most amazing cup of coffee I have ever had. I sort of loved it.

If you're wondering what the blind massage was all about: Throughout SE Asia you can get a massage by a blind person. The proceeds benefit schools for the blind and other similiar programs. Sylvan and I tried it today. We each got an hour massage. It was kind of creepy to be honest. Getting a massage from someone who speaks no English is a little unsettling. Getting a massage from someone who can't see is also a little unsettling and the combination is even more so. I paid at a reception desk and was given a ticket. Within seconds, Sylvan and I were separated and I was litterally handed off to a woman whose chalky-white eyes were wide-open, but saw at nothing. I tried to relax as the blind woman grabbed me by the wrist and led me into a massage booth. There were six booths in the rooms separeted by partician walls and curtains. The blind women spoke to each other in Vietnamese. The massage was not exceptional but it was nice enough, and more importantly... it was for a good cause.