Same country, different taste

Everywhere you read that the north of Vietnam is different from the south. You only need to know a bit of history to understand why. Experiencing it is a whole different thing. Hà Nội and Sài Gòn (Ho Chi Minh City), the two largest cities in the country – they taste completely different.

Hà Nội tastes of pepper and strong tea. Intense, but it unfolds over time. Traditional, not entirely structured, with a surprise around every corner.

Sài Gòn tastes of sweet iced coffee and chili. Open, clear, modern, and colorful. No hesitation in showcasing its grandeur – instead: bam! Right on the taste buds..

It takes almost a day by train or bus from Hội An to reach the south. That’s why we take an early morning flight this time, reducing the travel time to just a few hours and arriving in Sài Gòn by mid-morning. There, we are already awaited and head straight for one of the most impressive and unsettling places of this trip – the Củ Chi Tunnels. The journey takes us out of the city noise into a calmer, almost peaceful landscape – a deceptive impression when considering what happened here once. It’s hot on site, very hot, a bit burning – and my heart feels the same as we plunge into the history of the Vietnam War.

Our guide is enthusiastic about all the trap systems, the tricks of the Vietnamese soldiers, and tells them with a humor and lightness that briefly makes me believe he’s talking about a video game, not about human lives. He shows us his favorite among the primitive yet effective traps – the “Door Trap” – and practically beams as he recounts how the US Army’s shepherd dogs were led astray (I’ll spare the further details). I find it fascinating yet feel uncomfortable, partly due to the gunshots in the background coming from the nearby shooting range. The underground tunnel system, spanning over 200 kilometers, was used as a hideout, supply route, and living space. Today, only about 1% of it is shown – no one knows the complete map. A safety measure, in case it happens again.

A bit of everything becomes tangible, even if the tunnels we get to crawl through are probably larger than the originals, and certain places are only replicated above ground. The shooting range, where you can fire an AK-47, feels historically out of place. I was already aware that I wouldn’t want to do that at all – what I didn’t foresee was that I would barely endure the place with loud music in my headphones and conscious breathing. Phew.

On the bus back to the city, we have time to let the impressions sink in – Sài Gòn has a lot of traffic jams. After a brief break, our evening program follows, which couldn’t be more contrasting.

A group of young women dressed in blue picks us up on their scooters, and we zip through the evening streets of Sài Gòn – a cheerful, colorful street food tour. Riding a scooter here is a whole different league, and I talk to my tour guide a lot about traffic, rules, languages, and life in our two very different countries. We eat Bánh mì, Bánh xèo, Bánh khoai lang chiên, Pizza Việt Nam, and Kem bơ. So basically: sandwich, pancakes, fries, pizza, and ice cream – just in Vietnamese. For one specialty, only two people dare – despite my 'Oh yes!' resolution, I’m not joining, as it clearly exceeds my comfort zone: Trứng vịt lộn, a nearly developed duck fetus in the egg. Bon appétit…

On the way back, we get a little sightseeing tour, which is actually grand – just like the skyscrapers and the bridge here. In conclusion, we walk through the intrusive, loud, wild, and dense street with dancing women on podiums and menus held in front of our faces and allow ourselves to be guided into a bar. Despite lack of sleep and thousands of impressions, the evening is so enjoyable that my heart ends up burning, but from happiness.

This day: light, loud, life – alongside earth, closeness, memories: In between. With gratitude & humility.