Mr. and Miss Saigon

I want to take a moment to congratulate Elise and myself on our efforts and accomplishments so far here in Vietnam. Thanks to my Troglie buddy Tuzi and his Vietnamese GF Linh, we were able to experience what Tuzi affectionately calls the “real” Saigon. That is, the authentic Vietnamese lifestyle in which few foreigners ever dare partake. We all know that the stereotypical ethnic food you get back home is not a true representation of what locals actually eat abroad. (E.g. they don’t eat tacos in Mexico or spaghetti Bolognese in Italy like we do in Canada). That phenomenon has never been as salient for us as it is here in Vietnam. For the record, the locals do eat the classics like 'pho' (a noodle soup) and cold spring rolls in copious amounts, but it’s the lesser known dishes involving the lesser known parts of the animal that Elise and I have found ourselves enjoying (most unexpectedly). For example, I never knew how flavourful soup could be when it’s served with tendons and cartilage. I swear, a nice chunk of knee cartilage could pass for foie gras any day. Perhaps the most adventurous thing we ordered was duck stomach, blood and guts included. I personally never tried that one due to my policy of not eating uncooked food in developing countries (the blood was more of a dressing) but hats off to Elise for digging in like an insatiable vampire. There were a number of small birds that I rather enjoyed whole, however, like the barbecued sparrow and the fetal duck egg (6 weeks old I was told…it was bit gamey).

The other big accomplishment of ours in Saigon was remaining alive with all our limbs intact. I’m not exaggerating. (Disclaimer for my mom: read on at your own risk and please don’t admonish me later!). Driving a motorbike through the streets of Saigon was probably the single most dangerous thing I have ever done (sorry mom). Vietnam is the motorbike capital of the world (I think) and riding around is like being in a perpetual motocross race – except with the added challenge of dodging cars and transports at every turn. It was pretty much as crazy as driving around Istanbul was earlier this trip, except with motorbikes instead of cars and absolutely no rules except for this one: trucks yield to no one and motorbikes yield to everyone. I usually say ‘when in Rome’, but since we already had one mishap with a motorized vehicle this trip (recall Peru…), we decided we would quit while we’re ahead and splurge on taxis for the balance of our trip. Plus it wasn’t making Elise any more comfortable with the idea of me getting a crotch rocket sometime in the future.

-G

Tendons and cartilage. One woman's garbage is another woman's gold.

Tuzi and Linh.The other members of our biker gang.

Stomach parts in blood. Wow.

Organized confusion.

Aren't they just adorable??

Head first.