Hi Chi Minh: arrival and first impressions

Ho Chi Minh City was delightful. I spent a few days there with friends from work. The food was great, the people kind (and slim!), the history rich and instructive. The stories of Ocean Vuong and Viet Thanh Nguyen, whose works ultimately inspired me to visit the country, took on a more concrete picture in my imagination.

I'm ashamed to admit this: Southeast Asia is still largely unexplored territory for me. I'd been to Thailand and Singapore, but those trips were heavily curated: airconditioned hotels, pre-arranged car pick ups, and meals in indoor restaurants. When I was younger, I wasn't particularly keen on exploring the rest of ASEAN. I imagined that those places were just as hot and humid as the Philippines, and therefore wouldn't give me the disorienting excitement of being somewhere far and different. Travel then meant going to places where trees changed colors, where the climate forced me to wear sweaters or thermals.

But there's something about growing older that changes one's perspective. I turned 39 last month. I'm at the point in my life where travel takes on a different meaning and rhythm. Was I missing something because I didn't explore my backyard, this region of the world where tourists experience the sun in all its tropical heat, where food bursts with flavor and spice, where people laugh openly, and where family is front and center of the culture?

Vietnam it was.

Friends were quick to give recommendations. Da Nang, in Central Vietnam. Or Sa Pa, in the Northwest. I wanted history and urbanity. Ho Chi Minh City seemed like a good idea. My friends agreed. It was auspicious that we'd be there during the Ngày Thống Nhất (Liberation Day) in Vietnam, a major public holiday marking the fall of Saigon in 1975 and the end of the Vietnam War.

The moment we arrived, I was struck by scenes of green and yellow.

The city looked young and old, at the same time. There was joy everywhere: people smiling, hanging out in chairs that were close to the ground, and laughing at the side walks.

I felt young just by watching the boy drive his bike in a park, right at the city center. He was indifferent to the cares of the world. There are so many things children can teach us.

Motorbikes ruled the roads. From my conversations with our guides, boys and girls learn to ride the motorbikes when they are 12 or 13. They prefer them until they reach adulthood. These two-wheel vehicles are convenient to drive and to park.

The streets did not feel crowded because there were no huge cars or pick ups. Interestingly, there were no tricycles. To survive the heat (and rain), the drivers wore thin jackets and helmets. As in the Philippines, the traffic was governed by non-verbal negotiations of signal lights and rhythms of speed and breaks.

We had a few hours to spare before our hotel check in. We walked around the neighborhood in District 1.

Look what I found: a lady sweeping the side walk. We use the same broom at home.

The side walks were clean, lined by trees and motorbikes. I spotted a dog that looked like Paul.

The Saigon Opera House was near the hotel.

Some tourists were getting ready for their photoshoots.

Never mind the heat -- the place was Instagrammable!

The lady exercised her triceps.

A poster to celebrate the Reunification Day.

The city was vibrant and colorful.

The tree-lined streets impressed me! The shade made walking bearable, even during lunchtime.

Vinfast cars were common. Instead of a Santo Niño, the predominantly Buddhist country had this.

On our way to lunch, Vietnam flags were displayed.

A man sitting on a low-lying chair, drinking coffee -- a common sight in the city.

Lunch was in an outdoor restaurant where locals and tourists flocked. The place was called Tuyén Bhån Viên, in Phường Tân Định, Saigon.

We ate to our hearts' delight. The sight and smells of the kitchen stimulated our appetite.

There was unlimited vegetables. Grace, who is otherwise carnivorous, said, "Daw kambing na kita sini."

The carinderia vibe, sans the langaw, was welcoming.

The food price was reasonable, much more affordable than in Manila. A meal cost us 100,000. Not peso, but dong.

Coffee culture is also a big thing there. This man, sitting outside the café, looked just like me! I have the same white collared shirt, pants, shoes, glasses and haircut! My Vietnamese brother!