Backpackers See Vietnam’s Beauty, Bugs and All : Schoolteachers find budget adventure during summer break as they tour countryside by bus.

As Southern California public school teachers with three-month summer breaks but little money, we have backpacked through various parts of the world for the past 13 years. Last summer, with Vietnam recently opened to Americans, we decided that was the perfect opportunity to see a country emerge from its postwar cocoon.

We flew to Bangkok, Thailand, and getting into Vietnam was easy from there. We headed for Khao San Road, a colorful backpackers area with an aura reminiscent of the ‘60s in America. After three hours of comparing prices from the different travel agencies, we chose Top Thai Travel. We supplied two small photos and $60 each, and in two days they obtained the required 30-day visas. Vietnam visas were also available in four days for less money.

Upon arrival in Ho Chi Minh City--everyone still calls it Saigon--we had to also obtain a travel permit, a simple procedure. Since time was limited, we chose to visit only the southern part of the country. We got tips on what areas to explore from Tran Kim Loan, the very knowledgeable, outgoing, English-speaking young woman who owns Kim’s Cafe, a hangout for backpackers and other Americans on Pham Ngu Lau Street in Saigon’s District 1. Kim’s is great for gathering information, meeting other travelers and enjoying a bowl of noodle soup.

For clean and comfortable sleeping, we found that the Vien Dong Hotel (275 a Pham Ngu Lau St., District 1) offered a large double room with fan, toilet, cold water shower and towels for $7 per night, payable in U.S. dollars or Vietnamese dong.

During our eight days in Saigon, we traveled mostly by cyclo, the ubiquitous three-wheeled pedicabs. But it was walking that gave us an opportunity meet the people. Curious eyes watched us as we wandered. Little children and older women walked over to gently touch us, and, everywhere, “Hello, welcome, where are you from?” echoed in our ears.

The stories we were told by English-speaking Vietnamese touched our hearts. One young Vietnamese man, who helped us find our way one day when we became lost, invited us to his aunt’s apartment. He lived in California for 12 years after his escape from Vietnam in 1979, and now he was visiting his homeland. He told us how, for eight days, he navigated a small motor boat with 22 people aboard to Hong Kong, encountering typhoons at sea. After a year in Hong Kong, they were relocated to America, a dream come true.

That night we returned to Kim’s for a bowl of noodle soup with vegetables (25) and a fresh pineapple-papaya shake (20), where we ended up logging long hours sipping fresh fruit drinks and exchanging travelers’ tales with backpackers. Some had come to Vietnam out of simple curiosity, others were jaded travelers in search of the latest “undiscovered” spot.

Leaving Saigon, we bused north to Dalat in the central highlands, where there are forests, lakes, waterfalls, greenery and cooler temperatures. The seven-hour ride to the mountain town held our interest around every turn, as a land and people we had seen only in newsreels came alive amid natural beauty.

In Dalat, we first waved off a swarm of motorbike riders offering transportation to different hotels, which would pay them a commission. Then we enlisted the help of one after discovering that the local police prohibited some inns from hosting Americans.

He led us to a stone archway at the Garden Guest House (3 Huynh Thuc Khang street), through which we entered into a garden full of sculpted animals, including a 45-foot giraffe, tree-dwelling monkeys and a huge spider web, complete with Gargantuan sculpted spider. There we met Hang Nga, the sculptor and innkeeper, who was fascinated at the arrival of two Americans. She told us that her inn, too, was off-limits to Americans, but quickly added “ . . . but if you can keep a secret . . . .”

We stayed, under two provisos to avoid police detection: 1) Return before 9 p.m. or after midnight and 2) Eat breakfast covertly in an attic room. This was our kind of place: low prices ($5 per night including breakfast) and high intrigue.

Along Dalat’s riverbanks, families live on old wooden houseboats and in thatched huts. One two-hour walk brought us to a perfect waterfall, its cascading golden-brown water set within lush green foliage in a scene out of the Garden of Eden.

Not all of our Vietnamese experience was beauty. We felt an overwhelming sadness and sense of hopelessness in some people. We met Vietnamese men of previous high rank and status who could no longer work after being blacklisted by the Vietnamese government for having been translators, servants or military aides for the United States during the war. All were now broken, unable to provide for their families.

After Dalat, we headed south to the Mekong Delta, a region about which guidebooks gave us little information. Our first stop, Mytho, was a two-hour, 35-cent bus ride from Saigon. By the time we arrived, we were congested from breathing fumes and smoke from polluting vehicles along the road, so we decided to find a hotel early and relax there.

Unfortunately, the room we found had other guests: a parade of cockroaches and mice and at, 1:30 in the morning, mysterious callers who banged on our door and spoke only in Vietnamese. We didn’t open the door and never solved the mystery.

The next day, just as we were feeling tired and discouraged, walking through an outdoor market we stumbled onto a wonderful surprise. Though we were hot, sweaty and smelly, a bride and bridegroom pulled us into the middle of their wedding celebration, making us special guests of honor at the family table. With about 100 other guests, we feasted on spicy rice, hot-and-sour soup, assorted vegetables, meats, fish, sweets, fruit, tea and other drinks.

At our next stop, Vinh Long, we passed up another cockroach-infested hotel but discovered what we call our Mekong Delta secret: the Cuu Long Hotel. At $15 per night it was very expensive by our $5-per-night standards, but it was clean and had air conditioning, hot water and a balcony overlooking the Mekong River. It became our safe haven halfway around the world for a few days.

From Vinh Long, we explored the delta region by public bus, always cheap but always a long and taxing experience in Vietnam. One day it took us five hours to go less than 40 miles on bumpy, rocky, dirt roads. We went as far as Chau Dac, a picturesque river town just five miles from the Cambodian border.

Walking Chau Dac, we met a 12-year-old Vietnamese named Michael who lives in the United States but was visiting relatives. He invited us home to dinner, where he told us yet another story of escape, triumph and heartbreak. When he was 2, his father and pregnant mother hired a cyclo to drive them to the Cambodian border. But as they reached the border, his father hesitated, afraid for his family’s safety beyond. Michael’s mother, determined to give her children a new life, wanted to continue. They argued. She crossed the border, but minutes later the father was arrested for trying to escape.

Michael’s mother eventually came to America; his father was jailed for many years. Now, a decade later, the couple were having a reunion, but one touched with both joy and sadness. After nine years of separation, both had remarried. The father, now a farmer, was consoled by the fact that Michael’s stepfather was taking good care of his family. A moment’s hesitation years ago had changed their lives forever.

Returning to Saigon after 3 1/2 weeks in the countryside, we noticed some changes had already taken place. More visitors filled the hotels, the cost of travel permits had gone from $10 to $20, and a bowl of soup at Kim’s Cafe was now a nickel more.

But at a table, as we shared our travelers’ adventures with a young French couple, some older Americans and a Russian student, it was evident that what had not changed was the pure excitement of being in a beautiful country as it opens its doors to the world.