Mekong River: riding the snake into the heart of darkness

This is the end, beautiful friend, the end. Eternally haunting lyrics once sung by Jim Morrison and the opening ballad of Apocalypse Now, my favourite movie. For those who haven't seen it or read Heart of Darkness, the film follows the search for Colonel Kurtz, a deranged military genius who has vanished beyond the winding depths of the Mekong River during the invasion of Vietnam. Fittingly enough, the Mekong delta will be the beginning of the end for me too, the end of my journey I should say. I am taking a boat from the delta in Vietnam right to Phnom Penh, Cambodia. Hopefully I will resist the urge to go native and command my own outfit of psychotic tribesmen but no promises can be made.

In all seriousness, the trip will take 2 days - one night spent in a floating hotel on the Mekong. On Saturday I'll reach the border. Kind of a sketchy operation there apparently. Cambodian border guards are renowned for unabashed corruption and con artistry so I'm psyching myself up for a healthy wallet greasing there. I have to get my tourist visa at the border and when you're on a boat in the middle of the Cambodian jungle you do what the armed guards tell you. Most likely they'll ask for double the actual price of a visa. It's annoying because you absolutely know you're getting the curtains pulled over your eyes but you really have no choice. We're all in the same boat, so to speak.

Ho Chi Minh City/Saigon has been quite the experience in itself. The traffic is downright brutal. It is an achievement to make it from point A to B without having a brush with death. I am not exaggerating. I haven't been hit or anything but crossing the road is an artform, definitely not for the timid. Toronto or even NYC has nothing on Saigon. Imagine 250 motorcycles coming at you, like a cluster of sardines, each missing you by half a foot on either side. Then, picture a taxi driving directly into that cluster horns blazing from the opposite direction like a big whale coming to feast. Everything scatters, chaos, and you're still tiptoeing in the middle of the street. I could go on and on because it's actually quite fascinating to watch but it's something that has to be experienced to truly understand.

I have a lot to say about Vietnam besides the traffic, but again, time is limiting so I'll have to save it for later. I visited the Cu Chi tunnels 2 days ago and that was one of the most sobering experiences I've ever had. Unlike other archaic warzones, most of the area remains exactly as it did 30-40 years ago and the visitor has unprecedented access. Many of the landmines haven't been found so we were strictly told to stay on the trail. It was unreal - I stood there trying to understand what it felt like to be impaled on a bamboo trap tipped with cobra poison or drowned in the endless claustrophobic network of tunnels, or have my lungs incinerated by agent orange, or blown to bits by mortars, grenades, mines, burnt alive by napalm. The horrors are endless and you get the picture. The most humane deaths came from the bullets. It's so hard to believe you're actually standing in the same place where all of these horrible atrocities actually took place. My brain can't even compute the pain that must have been endured by so many so needlessly.

And so it's deeper into the jungle from here, to the land of the Killing Fields. What truly brings me to these places? Understanding? Awareness? Morbid curiousity? It's difficult understanding my place as a tourist who actually pays money to see these displays of human savagery. It is truly the dark side of human history, but it is a history that is so incredibly foreign to me. It's ironic though, if these forgotten countries didn't have these gruesome and haunting reminders scattered about the wasted countrysides there wouldn't be much to see. But, maybe there would be if these horrible events didn't happen. So, they have to exploit it because it's all there is, and because they know some of us will buy it. But, I think there's a level of humanity beyond paying to see a spectacle. Sure there is some morbid fascination involved, otherwise, why go? But why bury the past or deny the truth by pretending these places don't exist. For me, it's something that must be acknowledged as a human being because this depravity is embedded within evolution, it's real, and in order to grow as a species it must be displayed. Unfortunately, "never again" is just old hat, stale cliche now, so who knows how effective the message really is. Next to living through a war or genocide - putting yourself in the place of those poor souls changes you. I'm not trying to be self righteous and I would totally understand why this wouldn't be everyone's favourite family getaway (although there was a couple with newlyborn baby present at Cu Chi amidst sounds of people firing off AK47's at the gunrange out front, yeah). I'm just trying to understand why I'm here, exactly.

Okay, enough of that. I have to pack for tomorrow and this will be my last transmission for a few days before I reach the mean streets of Phnom Penh. As much as it sounds just like a bowl of ripe ol' banana fun it is very safe these days. Everyone's doin' it! See you in Cambodia.