Cu Chi Tunnels

I’m slightly traumatized. Yesterday I’ve visited Cu Chi Tunnels, a place about 60 km from Ho Chi Minh City. Unfortunately I got a little more impressions than I paid for.

Let me start by telling you that I normally don’t really like t go on these little tours. I have heard most of the tour guide jokes and am totally over the mandatory extra stops that need to be made at traditional weaving, cigar makers, boats in glass factories or painting studios so I usually just go with the public transport and get there and back for a fraction of the price and some good stories for back home. But this time the whole thing costs not even 5 Euro’s and I was tired so I decided to go with the group.

It started out as quite an educational day. We were told about the Cu Chi tunnels, de tunnels where the Vietcong soldiers held of the Americans during the Vietnam war. You get an explanation about all the boobytraps and and the ingenious system of corridors and tunnels while in the background you here the firing of AK-47 rifles by tourist who pay a lot of money to feel like a tough guy. But the highlight of the day was that you get to crawl trough some part of the tunnels. You can get up to 100 meters trough the tunnel but every 20 meters there is an exit. Nowadays the tunnels have been made bigger so that Western tourists with McBellys also can crawl trough but it is still not advisable if you do not like small confined spaces.

My tour consisted of a mixed group af couples, groups of friends and solo travellers fro all different nationalities. Amongst them was a Canadian couple of around 50 years old who found everything Amaaaaazing. The woman of the couple, let call her Diane, was you typical housewife with lets say a really, really unhealthy BMI. This did not stop her however from wearing a very tight white pair of pants. The pants were complemented by a light blue mens T-shirt with I heart Toronto on the front. Of course the couple had matching sandals and had small matching red Kipling backpacks. Diane had a red kipling pauch bag to finish the look. Diane had the newly aquiered camera around her nek and I just had to admire the way her husband let himself be used by his wife to pose for all the traps and other vague object.

Now when we arrived at the tunnel, I quickly figured out that crawling behind someone for 100 meters means that you have to look around behind who you want to enter that tunnel. I mean if you have to look at someones behind for some time, you better make sure you find a nice one ;). I accidentally found myself behind a single Spanish guy with a promising physique and Diane stood before him hoping that the whole experience would be Amaaaaazing! At this point Diane and me were still feeling very positive. 

But as many thing is my life yet again fate intervined. Diane decide at the last minute that she needed something from her pouch so she looked back and let the Spanish guy go first and was finished just in time to take her place back in line but BEFORE me!! Whether it was premeditated or not I felt deceived! There went my chance on a prefect experience and now Diane, the wicked witch, placed herself between me and the Spaniard and I had Diane and her white pants to look forward to. I could not see it but I bet Diane went into the tunnel with a smug smile on her face.

The story unfortunately does not end there. Thanks to the sneaky actions of Diane, the athletically built Spaniard was quickly nowhere to be seen and from the first step into the tunnel Diane started to find everything exhilarating. “Oh its daaaaark” Yes Diane, it is a tunnel. “I didn’t know it would be daaaaark” “Oh we have to go deeeeeeper?!?!” “I don’t know if I dare to go deeeeeeeper!” Yes well Diane, in about 20 meters you can get out again. Huffing and puffing but Diane finally got in the tunnel and I have to admit with her body this was literally a big accomplishment. Now the crawling could begin and the tunnel actually started to become dark. I actually could move my way trough the tunnel like a chicken but Diane had to do it on hand and knies. Diane moved in an antagonizing  slow place until she came to a complete stop. Behind us a line had formed with people waiting for Diane to move on but Diane did not move an inch. On the question to Diane if someone was in front of her a squeeky, gasping sound came from her followed by a scream: “I’m scaaaaaaaared!!”. Oh no Diane you are not claustrophobic are you? Diane did not know the tunnel would get narrower and suddenly had some sort of panic attack. I thought to be helpful by turning on the flashlight on my phone so Diane could at least see where she ws and that the exit was nearby. BIG MISTAKE!! By tuning on my flashlight I myself suddenly saw where I was and I was looking right into the big fat butt of Diane in her white pants. To make matters worse this butt was coming my way!! “I’m going back!! I’m going back!!” In a much higher speed that she moved forward Diane tried to crawl backwards trough the tunnel in my direction. No exactly the view I had in mind before entering the tunnel. “Diane that is not working. I’m behind you and there is a lot of people behind me. You have to move forward”. “Just keep breathing Diane, You can do this. Step by step just keep moving forward”. “Breath in, Breath out”. With al the psychological help I had in me I talked Diane trough the tunnel. “You are doing well, You are almost there”(o I hoped). The fact that it was about 35 degrees Celsius in the tunnel did not help but after what I felt like was half an hour Diane had completed the 20 meters and go go up the stairs out of the tunnel. Since I had promised her I would stay with her (I mean where I could I go at that moment) I exited the tunnel with her and was jsut in time to witness the reuniting of Diane with her husband. She made it seem as if she hadn’t seen each other in years. Tears were flowing but all ended well for Diane (and me).

Without Diane this trip might have been buried beneath all the special experienced I am planning to have while I am here. But thanks to Diane and het butt I will (due to a small trauma) not forget this tour soon