There is a very young Saigon!

Then I gradually got used to the smell (taste) of Saigon (tired, lack, hunger, despair, hope, joy, sadness…) after having seven years of studying and working here.
Saigon, roaming nostalgia are the discoveries of author Dao Thi Thanh Tuyen about Ho Chi Minh City – her second hometown. It is also the sentiment and attachment of the author to this city and the regions that she has passed through, with quiet and affectionate things.

[…] When I first came to Saigon in the summer of 1972, my father let me go by plane. Perhaps, it was an unforgettable experience with the eagerness of a 13-year-old boy to go out for the first time in his life by such modern means, to a famous and magnificent city known only through books, television or songs; in other words, is somewhere too splendid, luxurious only in dreams.. The father and son went into the house of a relative whom my father called aunt. I remember, the old woman was about 70 years old, her hair was white, and her hair was in a neat bun. A small house in an alley on Yen Do Street (now Ly Chinh Thang), fell in love a few sections. There was a smell behind the house that I couldn’t describe what it was, years later I kept calling it “the smell of Saigon”, rising from the water below (visible through the cracks in the wooden floor). I just wanted to be taken to the street by my father, somewhere to escape this dark smell. However, that family was large and my father had to sit down and talk to them so many things that I could only wander in front of the house looking at the restaurants in the alley, not daring to step out behind, just afraid of encountering the horrible smell. that great. Then I gradually got used to the smell (taste) of Saigon (tired, lack, hunger, despair, hope, joy, sadness…) after having seven years of studying and working here. In the evenings when I go to teach about cycling uphill to Kieu Bridge, I think, sometimes it is the color and smell of canal water that makes it hard for people to forget Saigon. Many years later, when I returned to Nha Trang to work, I still had business trips to Saigon only to realize, if I had a vacation to go somewhere, the first place I would choose was still Saigon. Until the kids went to school here, my trips became more frequent. Saigon book, nostalgia roaming. Photo: ChiBooks. Ever since the discovery of a Saigon scented with porcelain flowers, sweet with the scent of the wall, I turned back the route of walking, did not go to Gia Dinh park but changed direction to the embankment. I can turn any way from Phan Xich Long. Sometimes I wander in small alleys, through spontaneous markets serving small villages that have been associated with the (probably) eternal morning rhythm, from the butcher to the vegetable shop. The alleys of Saigon are not much different from when I was 13 years old until now, more than 50 years. Still the greeting with a slightly southern accent, such innocent and resigned female figures. And even though intentionally… lost my way, I still reached the embankment. The sun was just rising, a sharp, round pink slowly emerged behind the tall buildings. The wind caresses. Some people walk, people swing on gym equipment, people sit on stone benches… The road around the embankment is very empty in the morning, making me see how spacious Saigon is. Passing a garbage collection station, I stopped and observed the daily work of the workers of the urban environment company. The crane from above picks up the trash cans to the canoes parked below. There are two workers to pick up and stow. The canoe started to back up when there were enough barrels and stopped a dense group of water hyacinths, each with a club, pulling the water hyacinth up and putting it in the box. The other canoes continued to run in different directions. I had mornings walking to the embankment, enjoying the fresh air, completely cool and no longer had the “smell of Saigon” of the age of 13. In the free evening, I invited my children to drive to the embankment and watch. The apartment block is printed on the black sky, there are small bright squares, colorful lights, as beautiful as a picture. When looking at the lonely moon, how vast is the sky! When I go to work, before going home, I run around the section of Kieu Bridge – Hoang Hoa Tham Bridge – Tran Khanh Du Bridge to see a row of high-rise buildings “lighting” behind the colorful periwinkle flowers, rows of green ornamental areca trees. , rows of white and red porcelain trees, rows of thin-walled micro-wings, purple mausoleums, yellow scallops… and turned the car around when it hit the roadblock at the construction site. Just remember, all these years in and out of Saigon, I’ve never driven along the Nhieu Loc canal, but heard it’s just over eight kilometers. I asked my son, the middle generation 9X, in the old summers when my mother let me go to Saigon to play, did I ever smell the bad smell of this channel. My child answered no. For a moment, life is long, then you will taste the “smell” of Saigon, the smell of life, but completely no longer have the Saigon smell of when I was 13… Tell your children, when you are tired, try to ignore all the troubles, hustles, fights, and hustles out there and think of Saigon’s porcelain-scented moon seasons like this one to forget and recharge. next step!