Far from Home in South Africa, I Love Saigon Even More

Saigon has never nurtured or raised me. It has only been a stopover among countless stopovers in my life as a wanderlusting traveller, yet Saigon holds a special place in my heart. During my brief visits, whether for leisure, visiting friends, or transiting home, Saigon always appears to me as a land of tolerance and generosity for everyone.

Saigon is a place where people from all walks of life come to make a living. Saigon nurtures everyone from the impoverished street vendors to the hardworking labourers, from the middle-class intellectuals to the high-class elite. For those with nothing, a basket, a carrying pole, or an old Honda can become an effective means of making a living.

A Vietnamese lady deftly balances a carrying pole on her shoulder,  suspending two overflowing baskets of bananas. She'll soon settle onto the pavement, surrounded by the cacophony of honking horns and chattering pedestrians, ready to sell her bananas.
Photo credit to Huỳnh Tâm Hoài

Take the woman selling bread who shouts cheerfully, "Saigon bread, dense and buttery, 2,000 đồng per loaf. Come and buy!" With a basket of bread on her head, she weaves through the crowd to ensure that customers don't have to wait long when they signal their interest. I also buy a few loaves as gifts for my younger siblings. I'm surprised that the bread is still warm to the touch, as if it just came out of the oven. Is there a bakery nearby? Or does she know the secret to keeping the bread fresh and hot?

A street vendor is selling bánh mì 
Photo by Tuổi Trẻ News

Then there's the slender motorbike taxi driver hiding from the sun under the shade of a tree. He eagerly runs over with a hoarse voice to invite my friend when he sees her approaching. My friend politely replies with a big smile, "I'll go next time." Hearing that, he wears grief on his face and quietly returns to his Honda—parked on the sidewalk under the green banyan tree with his colleagues. Another driver next to him is seemingly having a midday nap, using the bike seat as a bed, the tail as a pillow, and his legs up on the handlebars. With a faded cap covering his face from the sun, he sleeps soundly. The noise and the scorching sun seem unable to disturb him. Saigon can lull people to sleep so easily.

A motorbike taxi driver (anh xe ôm) is having a nap in the shade by the roadside.
Photo by Hai Sài Gòn

These days, there is an alternative for ride-hailing services. It is Grab Bike, a Vietnam's version of Uber.
Photo by Grab Bike

Saigon is also very appealing and generous to the expatriate community. My friend, a Scottish woman teaching English in District 1, is an example. She likes Saigonese people because, despite living in cramped apartments, they have open, generous, and loving souls. Clothes dry in the wind at the front of the apartments, looking unaesthetic, but to her, it's a unique charm of Saigon.

She loves the winding alleys, the tiny, deep alleys just big enough for a taxi to pass through. There, a cozy bar awaits for her to socialize with other expatriates, holding a cool Saigon beer in hand.

She loves the spirit of "dressing up for a spring stroll" in Saigon. Despite the daily struggles, Saigonese people look frumpish, but when Tết (Vietnamese Lunar New Year) comes, they generously beautify themselves and the city with vibrant outfits.

After all, there are only a few days of spring in a year! Thus, Saigonese "play their hearts out" during those spring days. Inspired by that spirit, she never misses a Tet celebration in Saigon. Enthusiastically observing the radiant faces of Saigonese people, she immerses herself in the joy of welcoming spring in Nguyễn Huệ walking street.

Saigonese people are enjoying a leisurely stroll on Nguyễn Huệ walking street.
The street is adorned with snake mascots, welcoming the arrival of 2025,  the Year of the Snake.
Photo credit to Công Luận Newspaper

She takes pictures prolifically. The young girls posing in gorgeous áo dài (traditional Vietnamese long dress) smile brighter and hold their poses longer when they see themselves in her frame. She keeps praising, "Tết in Saigon is so beautiful. Beautiful in every detail, from the flowers and leaves to the simple bicycles and the old Honda motorbikes." I feel the same way.

Vietnamese ladies are enjoying a photo opportunity in áo dài, embracing the spirit of the Vietnamese Lunar New Year
Photo credit to Phụ-Nữ-Việt-Nam Magazine

She passionately observes the world of Saigon, a bustling, crowded, and very ordinary Saigon: an office worker in neat clothes holding a takeaway coffee, hurriedly crossing the street towards the towering Bitexco building; the fruit vendor carefully peeling and arranging slices of yellow mango and pineapple on a tray for customers; the lottery ticket seller, with a bundle of tickets in hand, inviting customers early in the morning but with no one buying yet.

She loves Saigon a little, but her husband loves Saigon tenfold. Her husband, a skilled oil engineer, loved Saigon so much that when he was ill, he insisted on staying in Saigon for treatment despite knowing the healthcare services back in Scotland were far superior. He was satisfied with the dedicated and meticulous care of the highly skilled doctors at Saigon General Hospital. Unfortunately, he did not survive the severe illness. He passed away. His final wish was to have his ashes laid to rest at Vĩnh Nghiêm Pagoda, always filled with incense smoke on the way to Tân Sơn Nhất Airport.

Vĩnh Nghiêm Pagoda where my friend's husband chose to be his resting place.
It's one of the popular pagodas in Hồ Chí Minh City
Photo taken in early 2015

She earnestly advised him that if his ashes remained in Saigon, how would she visit him when she returned to Glasgow? But he still insisted on merging his soul with the serene temple bells, the pure lotus fragrance, and the rich incense aroma, minute by minute, second by second.

Before flying back home, she invited me and a few Saigonese friends to accompany her to the pagoda, where she wanted to burn incense and bid farewell to him. Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched her light an incense stick as skillfully as a Vietnamese person and say, "This is the last time I 'meet' you, but my friends here will visit you on my behalf."

His tiny memorial plaque stood among countless other tiny plaques of Saigonese people. Life is cramped, and death is crowded. But no matter how crowded and cramped it is, Saigon can still embrace and accommodate everyone. Saigon holds him in its warm soil. I believe he will not be lonely in a foreign land when he chose Saigon as his resting place.

Saigon indirectly provides food and clothing for overseas Vietnamese establishing their livelihoods all over the world. Countless restaurants and markets in the US, Australia, and Europe bear Sai Gon's name and live up to its name. The name Saigon, sacred and renowned, helps Vietnamese people express their nostalgia and attract diners, creating a unique style—a very Vietnamese style.

Even South Africa, at the southern tip of the African continent, has two restaurants named Saigon. One in the bustling, dusty city of Johannesburg and one in the beautiful, windy city of Cape Town. Tour companies from Vietnam often take customers here to enjoy a taste of Vietnam. Though the dishes are not purely Vietnamese to suit the local taste, diners still savour them immensely. The flavour of phở (Vietnamese noodle soup) connects them and soothes their homesickness.

Saigon Vietnamese Restaurant in Cape Town
Photo credit to Tripadvisor

Not everyone can walk through Bến Thành Market and enjoy a bowl of pho as they wish. Thus, restaurants named Saigon create a mini Vietnam for the locals. They can enjoy Vietnamese cuisine and learn about a dynamic Saigon without having to book a flight or pack a suitcase.

Each time I pass by the Saigon Vietnam restaurant in the crime-infamous city of Johannesburg, I feel like I see my homeland. My heart is filled with indescribable emotions. Saigon now seems far yet close. Saigon teaches me a profound lesson: the farther I go, the stronger the longing. Only by being far away can I see my homeland and country always as the most beautiful.

Suddenly, I hear a faint voice selling goods "lost in the bustling afternoon" "behind the tall buildings".

Translated by AI

Edited by me

My original prose in Vietnamese:  https://www.phunuonline.com.vn/o-tan-dat-nuoc-nam-phi-xa-xoi-toi-cang-yeu-sai-gon-hon-a1541616.html