Saigon Stories: A City That Refuses to Pause

Scooters, Scars and Strong Coffee

Left: Town hall building Right:Ho Chi Minh statue

The heat and humidity came as a shock as we stepped out of the air-conditioned hotel on our first morning in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. About 10 minutes of walking, and we realized hot and humid April-end was not the right time to visit the country.

You may point out that April to September is not the right season for a vacation anywhere in the sub-tropical and tropical regions. But we were there and had to make the best of the weather.

Ho Chi Minh City or HCMC, as it is generally called, and was earlier known by the name Saigon, offers an interesting contrast of old French style buildings and modern Western-style skyscrapers, fancy restaurants and roadside food carts and vendors, chaotic traffic but clean roads. Hibiscus, ixora, bougainvillea, rubber plants, palm, plumeria, amaltaas shrubs and trees spread their scent and add colour to the roads and alleys.

The traffic reminded me of Lucknow roads. In HCMC it is just cars, and scooters; in what felt like hundreds of them. You step on to the not-so-wide road (even if on the zebra crossing), with a hand extended out to signal for the incoming traffic to slow or stop as you walk, but the constant stream of iron bodies on tyres does not pause for you. Either you keep walking steadily forward or like me, wait and join a swarm of pedestrians.

Our first stop was the 7-metre-high bronze statue of Vietnamese revolutionary and politician Ho Chi Minh or ‘Uncle Ho’ (1890-1969) to his countrymen. It stands on a pedestal in a small square lined with blooming flowerbeds along Nguyen Hue walking street, with people lining up to get photographed.   

In the background is the custard yellow and white Town Hall building, officially called Ho Chi Minh City People’s Council and People’s Committee Head office. The building, now a national heritage site, was the administrative office of governments during the French Colonial period and Vietnam war. Now it is open to public viewing in the last weekend of the month.

Top left: Tens of thousands of tons of food and weapons were carried to the Dien Bein Phu Front on nearly 21,000 bicycles.
Top right: Tonnage of bombs dropped by US Air Force, Navy in Vietnam 

The highlight of the day was our visit to the War Remnants Museum.  Through artefacts, photographs, and personal stories, the museum powerfully reminds of Vietnam's haunting past.

Once inside, you can see F-5 Freedom Fighter aircraft, helicopters, and M48 Patton tanks. In one area are the ‘tiger cages’ which tell the visitors of the cruel living conditions of the prisoners. Or one can quietly ponder over human losses in the Memorial area.

Rooms with different themes in the three-storey museum tell the gruesome stories of the first Indochina war and the Vietnam war.

Uniforms, weapons and military equipment are on display on the ground floor.

But it is the two upper storeys which arrest your attention. The first-floor displays photographs taken by photojournalists many of whom died in the war.

Villages in flames, terrified people running from explosions, mutilated bodies, children coated in dust and staring blankly at the camera, yet scattered among the scenes of destruction were images of medics, volunteers and ordinary civilians continuing to rescue the wounded and comfort survivors: in the middle of so much brutality, those photographs offered fleeting glimpses of human compassion. Unable to emotionally distance myself, I had to step outside.

The second floor houses a permanent exhibition on the long-term effects of chemical warfare. The exhibition on Agent Orange lingers long after one leaves the gallery. Haunting photographs, many taken by Japanese photographer Goro Nakamura, reveal the devastating impact of Agent Orange, phosphorus bombs and defoliants used by the US military during the war. Children born with deformities, families still living with the consequences decades later, and survivors whose lives remain shaped by chemical exposure make it painfully clear that the suffering did not end when the fighting stopped.

Some of the photographs also document the lasting effects of these chemicals on victims in the USA and Korea, showing how the damage continued across borders and generations. Letters and artefacts preserved in the gallery further underline the human cost. A special section displaying children’s paintings becomes a quiet but powerful reminder of the emotional aftermath of war.

The Indian Connection

I feel no shame in sharing that I could not look at all the photographs and once again came out wondering how we would explain to the coming generations the wars and conflicts going on in different parts of the world as I write this now.

When we visited, a special photo exhibition was on, on the life journey of Nguyen Thi Binh, former Vice President of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam and first female minister ever in the history of Vietnam. A woman of courage, Madame Binh was also the only woman participant who signed the Paris agreement on ending war in the nation.  

As we left the museum, the metal sculpture Mother (photo below) stayed with me the longest — a quiet reminder that beyond politics and war, it is ordinary families who carry history’s deepest scars.

The visit was a distressing experience even as it made me look at the resilience of the Vietnamese people with deep admiration.

To shake off the heavy sense of gloom we decided to stop for a coffee in a café along river Saigon.

Vietnam, the second largest exporter of coffee in the world, is known especially for its robusta beans. Not surprisingly then, there are hundreds of cafés in every city. Not a coffee drinker, I chose to try Vietnam’s famous egg coffee- airy and thick whipped egg yolks and sweet condensed milk poured over strong, hot Robusta coffee. This gives the coffee the texture of a rich, velvety dessert, unexpectedly delicate, rather than a beverage. They served cold jasmine tea for a refreshing drink before I took the dose of caffeine. And for the skeptical, assuring you that my olfactory sense works perfectly fine, I say, no, there was no taste, flavour or smell of eggs in it.

We met friends for dinner in a cosmopolitan restaurant. HCMC is a food lover’s paradise, offering cuisine from all parts of the world. Another striking sight was young people gathered around pavement vendors late into the evening, perched on low plastic stools, sipping fruity drinks, chatting, or silently scrolling through their phones.

Left: Saigon Opera House Right: Notre dame Cathedral of Saigon

The next half day in the city was reserved for a quick tour starting with admiring the Saigon Opera House building. There was a huge rush of visitors in front of the Central Post office while Notre Dame Cathedral was closed for renovations. It is to reopen in late 2027. We drove past the famous Ben Thanh Market, skipping seeing a few other buildings because we wanted to conserve energy for our next destination.

Created from bomb fragments, the sculpture
by Nguyen Huang Huy is the quiet reminder of the human cost of war.

Next: Hue, the city that brings the past alive.    

                                                                                                   - Anupama S Mani