Yesterday the Cu Chi tunnels (north of Ho Chi Minh), today the Mekong River (south). Mr Hiep is a very busy man and unfortunately couldn't take another day to show us around the Mekong Delta on such short notice, but he arranged for a driver to take good care of us. A quiet guy (slash he didn't speak any English). On the way to the Mekong, we stopped by a Buddhist temple and a Chinese pagoda. The temple was beautifully decorated in pastel colors and ornate details, but quite out of place sandwiched between wooden shacks and poor vendors. I had to do a double take when I first saw the Buddhist symbol for peace, for the reverse is much more commonly recognized - the swatzika. The Chinese pagoda was equally impressive; however, I'd have to say that the group of old women hitting on Jamie and I in Vietnamese was better. The Mekong River is the 6th longest river in the world and, originating in Tibet, flows through 6 countries until it ultimately enters the South China Sea. Houses wobbling on stilts, floating homes, catfish farms - all blended into the landscape of palm trees and canals. We explored a little island for a while: tasting local fruits, visiting a coconut candy factory, paddling through a man-made canal, looking at some caged animals (including an enormous python and a smaller one that you could put around your neck - I passed and Jamie nearly passed out). It was one of those tourist attractions that pretends not to be a tourist attraction, know what I mean? As if we had a rare chance to observe the traditional ways of making honey, preparing fruits, selling chatchkis...nevertheless a ton of fun. And then there were these 2 cute and cuddly howler monkeys, swinging all over the place. As we approached their cage, our guide told us to watch our sunglasses, cameras, etc. because the monkeys can reach out very far and like to take tourists' belongings hostage. So I heeded that advice and put all of my things in my little shoulder bag. Just as I was hoping that the next guide wouldn't tell the approaching group of French tourists to do the same, one of the little rascals seized my bag and tried to yank it off my shoulder. With my manly strength (and girly yelp), I won the battle but ironically became the example of what not to do for the French. As they howled in amusement (true to their name), I quickly distanced myself, asking my Vietnamese guide, "They don't throw poo, right?" We got back to the hotel and headed out for our last night on the town. We walked the streets for a while and then went to say goodbye to our friends at Chi's Cafe. Tear. But I'll be back... It's almost 10:30 (and I have a flight in 7 hours), but I'd say a faceoff with a howler monkey deserves a massage...

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