We've arrived in the People's Republic of Vietnam at a time of great change.
Ho Chi Minh, father of the country, is a memory.
Don't want to make them too wide, Charles.
Vietnam is rejoining the world.
Hanoi has sprouted hotels, mobile phones,
English-language newspapers and cricket.
English ex-pats v Indian ex-pats.
I'm asked to watch the game and spin the coin.
Heads.
- And it's tails. There we go. - Well, I think we'll bat.
It's a chance to find out more about the policy of "Doi-Moi" - new thinking.
But old thinking reasserts itself as our cameras are ordered off.
0ur still photographer keeps going.
They're not interested in cricket. They're interested in us.
England have to cope with fierce Indian bowling and a Vietnamese military build-up.
The officer-in-charge calls for reinforcements.
International diplomacy is brought to bear. The British embassy is informed.
India House is put on red alert. The Pentagon will call us back.
The Vietnamese arrive in force. We retreat.
The only pitch where they can play in Hanoi
is actually on land owned by the Vietnamese air force,
and filming the cricket match was deemed to be a threat to national security.
The Vietnamese do not look warlike,
yet they've fought like tigers for the last 50 years,
against the French, the Americans and their allies and the Chinese.
Now they can live the way they want to.
Banners proclaim the message of socialism,
but shops proclaim the message of the market.
In the Vietnam War, this prison - where Americans were interrogated -
was known mockingly as the Hanoi Hilton.
Now it's part of a property development on which a real Hanoi Hilton may one day rise.
Where Americans were once tortured, they will one day come to be pampered.
Despite the changes, an air of wartime austerity still hangs over Hanoi.
The railway station undoubtedly smacks of a more "comradely" era.
Which way to the train for Saigon?
This way? You don't want it? OK.
(VIETNAMESE ANNOUNCEMENT)
I'm leaving on the Reunification Express southbound for Ho Chi Minh City,
which most of those who live there still know as Saigon.
Its average speed for the distance is 25 miles an hour,
so there's no rush.
The Vietnamese coast curls along the South China Sea.
The railway follows it for 1,250 miles on the long haul from Hanoi to Saigon -
from where, God willing, I shall strike east
to the islands of the Philippines and Borneo.
(SOFT, SLOW MUSIC)
At mid-morning next day, various delicacies are prepared.
Pork is unwrapped from banana leaves.
There are prawn fritters and raw vegetables and something in a bucket.
We're crossing the Ben Hai River - the border of the old demilitarised zone.
We're now in what I grew up calling South Vietnam.
The scars of war have been covered by this fertile landscape,
but the highway is still woefully inadequate
for a country that hopes to become a Pacific tiger.
This railway - the main link between north and south - is still only single track.
(TRAIN ANNOUNCEMENT)
400 miles south of Hanoi we pull into the city of Hue.
Tourists are welcome in Vietnam, but fare dodgers are definitely not.
The old imperial city lies on the Perfume River.
0ne of the fiercest battles of the war took place here
and the central span of this bridge was bombed.
Today it's busy all day long, as is every other thoroughfare in this crowded land.
If you want some peace, try the Forbidden Purple City - seat of the emperors.
What happened to the royal family? Are there any of them still alive?
Actually, no.
Our last emperor, he's still alive in France now.
He's about 83 years old.
And does anyone in Vietnam want him back to rule the country?
I don't think so.
According to my opinion, I think he is only now,
in our mind, he is the king of the past.
- King of the past. - Yes.
- This is good. - Here is the bell.
Made at the time of the second king, Minh Mang.
Miss Hong explains that this was the religious and cultural centre of all Vietnam.
But as we move through to the heart of the temple, I'm in for a shock.
Now we are at the centre of the Forbidden Purple City.
The royal family used to live inside here.
There's nothing here at all.
It's all gone. The French started the destruction and the Americans finished it.
It's as if the Forbidden Purple City had sprouted wings and flown away.
The Perfume River is Hue. People drink it, wash in it, fish in it and live on it.
I've hired a sampan to take me out on it. Progress is picturesque but pretty slow.
It's not as easy as it looks, is it? That's difficult.
Difficult for someone to understand all the turning.
You can start the engine now if you want.
Start the engine now.
No, seriously. You can now start the engine. Director says, "Start engine now!"
What do I have to say?
- Where is the engine? - In here.
- Can you start it now? - Yes.
- Now? - Now? Yeah.
Right.
- In here there's a motor. - Yes.
- I'll go here and you start it. - Now?
(ENGINE CHUGS)
0nce we're underway, there are no problems.
That is, until we have to stop.
Can we turn the engine off?
- Kill engine. Stop engine now. - Yes.
OK. No... Good.
Stop engine. Yes? Stop it now. OK?
I can't do this. Er... Will you stop engine now?
- Yeah. - I'll move this.
- Here? - Yeah. That's right.
Move this. Yeah. That's it.
Can you turn it off?
My destination is the Thien Mu Pagoda that has stood here for 400 years.
But in the Buddhist monastery next door, I discover something newer
and infinitely more macabre.
This is probably the most famous Austin car in the world today
because it was in this car that a monk from this monastery was driven to Saigon in 1963,
and he set alight to himself in protest at the way Buddhists were treated at the time.
A world-famous photograph was taken of the monk
and in the back of the photograph there is a picture of this very car.
It's weird to see it here, a photo that one knows so well.
It's strange because my father had a car exactly like this - same colour, same make.
I went to school in a car like this.
Next morning the heavens open in style.
80 days away from the Arctic Circle, we're in monsoon country.
Today we continue our journey on the next Reunification Express southbound.
When the French were booted out in 1954, they didn't leave much behind,
but they did leave a railway, and their word for railway station - "gare" - has survived.
The train slows as it toils up from the narrow plain to Hai Van -
the Pass of the 0cean Clouds.
The mountains come close to the sea here, and at Da Nang is the most famous -
Marble Mountain.
It's at the foot of Marble Mountain that I meet Miss Tanh.
- Would you like to buy something? - What are they? Little marble...
- This is Marble Mountain. - I'd like to see the mountain.
- Yeah. This way up. - I just keep going?
- Yeah. - Will you show me what to do?
This way. There are 157 steps up.
- I may not buy anything. I'm very mean. - Don't worry, be happy.
Yeah. I'll be happy!
- Where do you learn your English? - At school.
It's very good. I don't know many Vietnamese who can say "lovely jubbly".
- Lovely jubbly! - What else can you say?
You want to learn Vietnamese?
Yes. I'd just like to be able to say hello.
Cingow. Hello is "Cingow" in Vietnam.
- Cingow. - That's right.
How often do you do this? How many days a week?
- Six days a week. - Every day? All day?
- Not all day. We go to school in morning. - Of course.
- Tell me how old you are? - 16.
- And when will you leave school? - 22.
That's a long education. At the same school or will you go to university?
- University. - Where?
- In Da Nang city. - And what do you want to do?
I want to be a doctor.
I can see daylight. Looks as though we're nearing the summit. Is that right?
It's not a big mountain but it's where it is and what's next to it that's important.
- That's spectacular. - Spectacular.
As we say in English mountaineering circles.
- Here you see Fire Mountain. Metal... - Metal.
Wood. The small one. Fire. Earth. And this is Water.
So having got up here, have I done some good for myself?
- Yes. - Will the gods smile on me?
Here you sit down in king's chair. Very lucky and long life.
- A long life? - Yeah. For you, old man.
I think I've had enough, don't you? 52 years. Quite enough.
I might get another ten years out of it. I feel like a drink anyway.
OK. Let's have a sit. Thank you.
The king's throne, adaptable for all sizes.
That's better. I feel revived already. I feel at least ten more years I could go on.
Yeah. Let's make this a 25-part series.
In Cinemascope. Get rid of those mountains!
Anyone got a beer?
Thank you.
This country will be a great success.
There's always someone around with exactly what you want.
Miss Tanh is very likely to be a future president.
Her fluency in English makes my dumbness in Vietnamese shaming.
And she's incredibly well informed. Marble Mountain is much more than it seems.
It's a holy place and a military stronghold,
but Miss Tanh will not let me leave until she's shown me its darkest secret.
Wow. I see what you mean. I need your hand. It's pitch black and very slippery.
Here we are. I can see now. God.
You see four gods - two good and two evil. The good will go to heaven, the evil to hell.
These are the guardians at the entrance to a Buddhist temple?
- Yeah. - So people come and worship here?
Yes. Many people come to worship Buddha.
And there's the altar. That's extraordinary.
And this hole was American bomb. The hole was American bomb.
So the American bomb made that hole?
Yes. Before this was a hospital and after America bombed down.
- There was a hospital here? - Yes. Before.
After that, I need some fresh air.
I take a walk on nearby China Beach - once a haunt of off-duty American troops.
Now there's only the roar of the ocean for company... or so I thought.
American forces may have gone,
but a lone Westerner without a seashell or a slice of mango
is too much for the local children to bear.
I tell you... I've got 5,000... 15,000.
There we go. 15,000.
There we go. There's 20,000 and I'll have his as well.
Thank you. Thank you, kids. Bye.
Make sure she gives you the money.
I'm on my way to Vietnam's deep south
and one of the world's great rivers - the mighty Mekong.
After its 2,500 mile journey, the Mekong forms a huge delta here.
The river deposits enough mud on Vietnam to increase its size by 200 feet a year.
What's more, it's high quality, well-travelled mud.
There are a few grains of Tibet in here because it rises in Tibet,
rather large chunks of China, huge bits of Laos, chunks of Cambodia,
but now all this mud belongs to Vietnam
and it's one of the most profitable agricultural areas in the world.
(NORTHERN ACCENT) So where there's mud, there's brass -
as they say in southern Vietnam, not in that sort of accent but you know what I mean.
This being Vietnam, a bit of water doesn't stop people buying and selling.
These dug-outs become shops and shopping baskets.
And this being Vietnam, you can find almost anything you want.
How much are the snakes?
Are they pets or are they to eat? Getting into difficult water here!
(MICHAEL) $100 for each?
$200. Well... I think we'll keep looking.
I don't just want to buy a snap snake without checking out.
Are they poisonous? They're not poisonous?
Why would I want them?
Apart from to eat.
From this little delta town dominated by a Catholic church,
it's a short hop to Tay Ninh province, home of one of the world's newest religions.
It's called Cao Dai and it was invented by a civil servant in 1926.
This splendidly designed religion is a spiritual curry,
containing a little bit of everyone else's religion.
The writer Graham Greene was so taken with it, he considered becoming a convert.
(SOFT SINGING)
In the foyer of the great temple,
there's a mural depicting three of Cao Dai's patron saints.
Chinese statesman, Sun Yat-sen,
Vietnamese poet, Nguyen Binh Khiem and Victor Hugo, author of "Les Miserables".
Spirits play an important part in Cao Daism.
Messages have been received from Joan of Arc, William Shakespeare
Louis Pasteur and Lenin.
Despite this all-star cast, Cao Daism has not made much of a mark outside Vietnam.
Nor, to be honest, outside Tay Ninh province.
As we draw closer to Saigon, we pass an extraordinary relic of war.
And this area here, this underground area, it has a hospital. What else does it have?
- What other facilities? - The meeting room...
These are the Cu-Chi tunnels - a 100-mile underground network,
built for guerrilla armies fighting the French and Americans.
Despite being blasted with bombs and raked with defoliant,
they were never destroyed in 35 years of warfare.
- What was this? - The fighting bunker of guerrilla forces.
How many people could be hidden underneath the earth at any one time?
Probably about 5,000 guerrilla forces can stay inside the tunnel at one time.
- Can I explore a little on my own? - OK.
- Is that allowed? - Yes. Please.
I won't go far. I'll try this one down here. This leads to another bunker?
Come to another... Not fighting bunker. Another room.
All right. I'll see what that's like. Here we go.
People lived here for up to two weeks. Two minutes are enough for me.
I head straight for the emergency exit.
Hello, Ratty. Hello, Moley.
I'm obviously not cut out to be a guerrilla fighter. 0therwise I'd have closed the door.
I find little resentment among the Vietnamese about the war - maybe because they won -
but this Museum of War Crimes in Saigon shows they won't forget.
There's one particularly gruesome exhibit - a guillotine.
Bequeathed by the French, last used against the Vietnamese in 1960.
If I ever made a series of great post offices of the world, this one would be included.
Uncle Ho beams down as I write all those postcards I've been putting off for weeks.
"Dear Helen, dear Rachel, dear Tom, dear Will.
"0nly nine months to go. Happy Christmas."
It's time to leave Vietnam, if I can.
My impression is of a crowded country riding a high tide of energy and confidence.
A country where there's no point in shouting stop - no one'll hear you.
A thousand miles from the heaving crowds of mainland Asia
are the heaving crowds of the Philippines,
whose capital, Manila, with a population of 12 million,
is one of the Asian Pacific mega-cities.
This is what happens when bicycles become cars.
The gridlocks are enlivened by the "jeepney" -
a Filipino conveyance evolved from American jeeps left here at the end of the war.
They're brightly painted and often eccentrically named.
Well... not always.
Manila has about every problem a big city can have -
too many cars, too many people, too little space, too few houses,
not enough money, not enough jobs.
There's no income support to fall back on here.
If things are bad, these people club together to pay an agency fee
so that one of them can go abroad to earn money and support the family back home.
I'm outside the headquarters of the Friends of Filipino Migrant Workers.
So we were discussing about labour export.
And the export of labour generates about...
...$2.5 billion...
0ne of this country's most profitable exports is its young women.
Just imagine how big the amount goes to our country.
That's why we are considered as "new heroes"...
...by our government.
There is a price that the "new heroes"pay.
In the newspaper today was the story of a Filipino maid
under sentence of death in the United Arab Emirates
for stabbing her employer as he tried to rape her.
The women are warned in their own language - Tagalog -
of what to expect when they go abroad.
(SPEAKS TAGALOG)
These women cheerfully expose themselves
to a life that is often not far short of slavery.
Before they go, they must listen to the problems that lie ahead
in countries where they will be second-class citizens.
I asked some of them where they're going.
- Qatar. - Have you been to the Middle East?
- Brunei. - You're going to Brunei.
- Bahrain. - Bahrain. For how long?
- For two years. - I'm going to Taiwan.
- What sort of work will you do in Dubai? - Housekeeper.
Domestic operative, because that's an easy way to go there.
- Caretaker. - Caretaker?
I just want to earn money and I just want to support my family
and my parents also.
I want to work in Taiwan, sir,
because I want to support my family - my father, mother, my brother and sister.
- Who will look after your family? - My husband.
I am a college graduate and a major of English.
Colourful as the traffic jams may be, I'm itching to get out of Manila.
I do so in style on a quiet Sunday morning,
high above where the traffic jams would have been any other day of the week.
Luzon is the largest of the 7,000 islands of the Philippines.
Its northern end is composed of mountains
where we hope to find the eighth wonder of the world - the rice terraces of Banaue.
But the highland weather is turning bad and Luis, my pilot, is not a happy man.
The cloud base is too low for him to land near the rice terraces,
so he puts down on a village football pitch... during a game.
Leaving the teams to take half-time early, Luis organises alternative transport.
He's just hailing a passing jeepney.
There's no way we're going to get up another thousand feet above the clouds,
so we've landed in the middle of a school football pitch.
I think there was a game on when we came down.
The jeepney's stopped. Do you think he's on? Good.
Transfer to... more primitive technology.
He's got the Union Jack on the back!
Too good to be true.
Well, within five minutes of landing, we're on our way up there.
- How long does it take to the terraces? - About one hour, sir.
One-hour drive. We'll see much more this way.
More slowly, anyway.
0ur new driver, Rodolfo, has other ideas. He's clearly had Grand Prix training.
We start to climb - through 2,000 feet, through 3,000 feet.
If it's rice terraces we want to see, Rodolfo will get us there. And he does.
(SOFT PIPING)
But the terraces themselves are at 4,000 feet. This makes all the difference.
Hello. Come to see the rice terraces. Well...
Behind... We made it. This is the viewpoint.
And behind me are the world-famous Banaue rice terraces.
You'll just have to take my word for it. They are there.
But, unfortunately, as you know, there were problems with visibility, so...
Well, just close your eyes and imagine some rice terraces and...
I'll read from the guide book.
"The Banaue rice terraces, rightly called one of the eighth wonders of the world,
"stand at an altitude of 1,200 metres.
"It took the lfugao tribespeople, with their primitive implements, over 2,000 years
"to create this imposing landscape."
Oh, dear! It's taken us so long to get here. Helicopters don't come cheap.
We've come all the way from Manila to see the rice terraces and it's hard to see.
(MICHAEL LAUGHS)
It's all rather embarrassing.
I make my excuses and retreat to the highland city of Baguio,
where strange things happen, but in much better visibility.
We're heading for 114 Lourdes Grotto Road
to witness surgery performed with bare hands,
without anaesthetic and without instruments.
"Psychic surgery" has its roots among the forest peoples of the north.
The surgeon who operates from number 114 is called the Reverend Jos� Segundo.
His hands, he claims, are guided by God.
Amen. Lord have mercy. Espiritu Santo. Amen. Lord have mercy.
He and his assistant are operating on a man called Gustav, who has an arthritic limb.
I'm surprised to hear a distinct pop, then blood appears.
Psychic surgeons claim the blood appears through the skin by a form of magnetism.
Now the other leg... And that noise again.
This is surgery stripped of all the trappings.
No lights, no masks, no rubber gloves, no machines that go ping.
Just fingers that go pop.
To me, it looked as though there was some sleight of hand.
You were perhaps popping a blood capsule.
I could see no way that blood could come out of Gustav's leg without piercing the skin.
There was no mark on the skin at all.
Were you actually popping a little pill?
You cannot see what I am doing in the operation unless you have the third eye.
This is one, two and then the third eye here.
If the third eye is open for you, then you can see what is done.
- I could see with my two eyes... - With two eyes you can never see.
To get a second opinion on my eyesight, I go to another address in Lourdes Grotto Road.
The consulting rooms of Mr Ambrosio Pelingen.
As I arrive, his patient is summoned in for what is known as "the bloody operation".
The patient's wife waits outside.
Ambrosio has no assistant. He asks me to help him.
It looks as though you're making a hole with your fingers in his chest,
and that's just not possible, is it?
What are you doing now? Are you being guided to something?
In his hand is a small piece of slime which he calls "black toxin".
Throughout, the patient remains fully conscious.
I've had no training so I'm not sure what to do. Have you trained medically?
No, sir. Because I think...
...I have er... I take it from my ancestors.
- Really? - Yes.
It does look as though there's a hole,
but there is no hole because there's no mark on the body.
So I don't know quite where this red stuff, this blood, comes from.
That's... Perhaps someone could analyse that.
My fingers are completely unsterilised and they went into his wound.
- Never mind. - Why will that not infect the wound?
I will soon explain this.
There will be no contamination or anything as long as healer is the one working on it.
As long as the healer is working on it. So you create a sort of spiritual antiseptic?
Yes. That is the use of garlic.
Now I'm beginning to get some secrets.
It's easy to be sceptical about psychic surgery, but if you believe it works, it works.
Ambrosio and the reverend are busy seven days a week.
Philippine history, they say, began with the Spanish and ended with the Americans -
300 years in the convent, 50 years in Hollywood.
These mountains, with their ancient forms of healing,
leave me with the impression of something more powerful.
700 miles south, it's all so different.
It's hot and tropical and it's December.
# I'm dreaming of a white Christmas
# Just like the ones I used to know
# Where the treetops glisten and children listen
# To hear the sleigh bells... #
Next day, the director decides it's time I learned scuba diving.
My instructor is called Louie.
Put the mask on. Make sure there's no hair in it.
Now repeat the exercises. That's good.
Louie tells me the worst that can happen.
It's a dangerous world of embolism, ear squeeze and nitrogen narcosis.
But by next day, I'm ready for the reef.
0nce you realise that your role model is a fish, a whole new world opens up.
I'm enjoying it so much, I decide to join some fellow divers for lunch.
You can't understand anyone but it's all pretty obvious.
I've reached the last stage of my Philippine journey.
I'm aboard the ferry, Princess of the Pacific, heading for the port of Zamboanga.
(COCK CROWS)
I'm not sure if I'm hearing things. I decide to take a closer look below decks.
I hadn't realised that Zamboanga is one of the cockfighting centres of the Philippines.
(CROWING)
And here they all are. Arranged, packaged, labelled and probably pretty fed up.
(CROWING)
This is Zamboanga - our home until we can find a boat out of here to Borneo.
The dockside is not for the faint-hearted.
As we fight our way off the boat, I wonder where those cockerels are going to end up.
The answer is places like this - the Galleria, Zamboanga's largest cock pit.
The Spanish conquerors introduced the sport 400 years ago.
There's a cockfest here about every other day.
The fights may last only a few seconds. It doesn't seem to matter.
It's all about betting. This provokes strong passions.
How much money is bet in each bet? Is there a minimum?
Minimum for people in the ringside, 500.
- 500 pesos. That's about $20? - Yes. That's correct.
And how is the bet recorded? No one writes anything down.
- The Cristos, we call them locally... - The men in pink, yeah.
They can remember faces - who bet and who bet against,
so nothing much is recorded.
It's an ugly sport to watch, but there's huge local enthusiasm.
0ne man told me this is the Philippine's number one pastime.
"But," he added sadly, "basketball is catching up."
How many fights? Say it survives one fight, how many would a good cock survive?
More than 15. More than 15 fights.
And then they are given back to the owners for breeding purposes.
As others wait to fight, the vet patches up those who already have.
But this is the Philippines and alongside the gore is the glamour.
(OPERATIC MUSIC)
The beauty competition is widely held and widely revered.
Imelda Marcos was a Miss Manila.
Winning one can be an important step in a girl's career.
Judging one could be important in my career.
Tonight, beside the sea at Zamboanga,
my fellow judges and I will choose Miss Bella Pacifica.
(DRUMS AND CYMBALS)
It's not just vital statistics that will win prizes here.
I didn't hear any vital statistics.
A winner must be beautiful but she must also show intelligence and a strong moral sense.
This is a very Catholic country.
"If your husband told you he was going away for a year
"to film a documentary series in many far away countries,
"would you try to stop him? If so, why?"
Although I haven't been married, I will not stop him
because I believe that true love is tested by time
and as long as you love and trust each other, nothing can stand in your way.
Thank you very much.
I believe that trust is the key to a successful relationship,
so I will allow my husband to go to other countries.
Besides, it's his job. He's not going there to go girl-hunting!
Absolutely right. Certainly not. Tonight, of course, is an exception!
(PRESENTER) Thank you, ladies. I really can feel the tension mounting.
(FANFARE)
There are many things of beauty in the Philippines,
but if I had to choose one object that represents the spirit of this country,
it would have to be the jeepney.
It's pure Filipino. Completely exuberant and wild
and not totally in touch with reality or practicality.
I'd love one.
I've been longing to drive my own jeepney since I first set eyes on one in Manila.
They were all stuck in traffic jams there. In Zambo, you could be on a racetrack.
That's not a bad idea. I could inaugurate the first Zamboanga Grand Prix -
for jeepneys only.
(HORN BLASTS)
0n second thoughts, I might just take it to Borneo.