Fall of Saigon

Further treats awaited us this morning, prepared by our host. Today's breakfast was a kind of ragout using crunchy beetroot, carrot and a vegetable I believe to be called su su, which seems to be chayote, as well as an unnervingly convincing vegan fake meat (it tasted like peppery sausage meat, but I think it was marketed as beef). Served with crunchy French bread, this savoury stew was an unusual breakfast from a western point of view but a delicious start to the day. Over breakfast we discussed the traditional patriarchal Vietnamese family, roles of men and women in society and the expectations on wives and mothers. Heavy going for this early in the morning.

For a little light relief, we ventured to the (in)famous Ben Tanh market. This market is notorious for tourists and is not given good press by the guidebook, so I steeled myself for a hot and  unpleasant experience fending off pickpockets and overzealous stall holders. Contrary to reports, I felt safe and not in the slightest bit harassed. The market sellers were overwhelmingly friendly and seldom pushy. The stalls were a riot of colour, sights and smells - much more so than the market we visited in Cholon. This may well be laid on predominantly for tourists, but I would happily return to wander, shop and maybe pull up a stool for lunch.

The Reunification Palace is, as many state run attractions, closed for a couple of hours during lunchtime. In the afternoon, we dropped by and took a guided tour. The history is a complicated one, involving multiple coups, occupants, and changes of name.

In the late 19th and early 20th century, Norodom Palace (after King Norodom of Cambodia), stood at the same location and was largely used by the French (and briefly the Japanese) during colonial times. In the 1950s, after the French left (see yesterday's post), Ngo Dinh Diem declared himself president and installed himself in the palace, calling it the "Independence Palace". After this was bombed beyond repair by two of Diem's pilots (not, it must be said by accident), a new building was constructed in the 1960s. Diem didn't get to move into this new building, as he was assassinated in a coup d'état after which General Nguyễn Văn Thiệu made himself at home in 1965.

It is in this late 60s/early 70s state that the 'Palace' is frozen, as the Communist tanks came crashing through the front gates in 1975, marking the fall of Saigon, precipitating the end of the Vietnam War, and the reunification of North and South. Thieu had made a break for it only weeks before and left General Dương Văn Minh (the leader of the coup against Diem) to face the music. The building was again renamed to Reunification Hall (which subsequently reverted back to the much grander 'Palace' for the benefit of tourism).

The building houses a two-level bunker, from which the war was conducted. This is full of Cold War-era radio equipment (all provided by the US) and walls plastered with maps.

After the history lesson, K and I decided to search out a place serving bia hơi (fresh draft beer) that we had heard about. Bia hơi is apparently not as popular as it once was in the city, but we had a tip about a bar on Thi Sach street. Approaching the bar, we had second thoughts, as it was clearly (as we had expected) a locals' bar and looked pretty dingey. A few old Vietnamese men were sat in the doorway; one spotted us and beckoned us in. Inside, had there been a record playing, it would have stopped abruptly as everyone turned to eyeball the two pasty tourists entering the bar. I led us to a vacant table, but it was clear that K was uncomfortable, as the only other women in there were those serving and cleaning.

Once sat down, our novelty soon wore off and our gazes met only smiling faces. The crowd was friendly and the room very 'Saigon' from the movies. The French shutter were open, but the ceiling fans only stirred the warm sticky air. The wallpaper peeled in the humidity and the surface of the faded paintings puckered like skin on cold custard. One lady hacked at a huge lump of ice, while another poured a frothing container of bia hơi from a mysterious machine and delivered it to us complete with monkey nuts and a bowl of ice.

The bia hoi machine

Bia hơi is brewed and matured for only a short while before being served fresh. It is a light lager of around 3% ABV, which tastes extremely fresh and refreshing. It is poured into a glass typically containing a piece of ice that almost fills the glass. I am mostly against ice in drinks, especially beer, and took my second glass without ice and suffered no ill effects.

The monkey nuts were as fresh as the beer, and are quite a revelation after eating dried nuts, being much creamier in taste. Venturing only two words to the waitress, we were presented with a 2-litre container of beer, but this seems to be the standard measure (1 litre per person). It certainly disappeared quickly enough and we exited happily into the balmy evening. The price for all of this? The princely sum of 34,000 dong (about one pound sterling).

Our host is away in Singapore for a few days, so we have been given free run of the kitchen. Cooking for ourselves using unknown ingredients in an unfamiliar kitchen is a challenge, but we managed to rustle up a decent rendang-style curry with rice (and a few dumplings from the freezer). OK, it's more Malaysian than Vietnamese. We used some different vegan beef that actually looked and tasted like the real thing. Fake meat here is a different experience.