Lost in 'Little Hong Kong' in Saigon

In truth, the moment I set foot back in Saigon, I still couldn't quite picture where the tranquil hidden corner of this city actually lay. I simply thought that if I just walked, observed, listened, and felt, sooner or later, I would decipher the perplexing riddle of intuition. Settling comfortably on a long bus ride from the center of District 1 to the edge of Cholon Market, and then embarking on what seemed like an endless walk, I was overwhelmed with emotion upon reaching District 5, a unique residential cluster in the bustling heart of Saigon.

District 5 has been the home and livelihood of the Chinese community for hundreds of years. It's an incredibly interesting architectural complex, a diverse mix of buildings ranging from individual houses to community centers. From above, District 5 resembles a giant zigzag carpet, with its winding streets and narrow alleys. But if you patiently follow these sprawling paths, you'll find yourself in a strange and enchanting space. Every few minutes, you'll find yourself transported back to the 1960s.

Viewed from above, District 5 resembles a giant zigzag carpet, with its crisscrossing streets and winding alleys. But if you patiently follow each of these long, winding paths, you will find yourself in a strange and enchanting space.

Colorful Street

Perhaps it was because it was so close to Cholon Market, but the Chinese quarter was incredibly bustling. Houses were built close together, with entire ground floors renovated and decorated to become shops and stores. I don't usually like noise, yet walking through the chaotic crowd of vendors and customers, I didn't feel the slightest discomfort. At that moment, I was engrossed in admiring the jumbled upper floors of the houses, where the old architecture was perfectly preserved: narrow corridors, stained yellow walls, colorful wooden doors, open-air altars emitting thin wisps of incense smoke, and a few windows of various shapes carved into the walls.

Old-style apartment buildings are a fascinating feature of Chinatown. I can't count the exact number of them, but I remember that walking down the street, every five hundred meters or so, you'd encounter a multi-story building, densely populated with residents. These buildings seem to be nearly half a century old, their walls faded by the weight of time. Compared to the old-style apartment complexes in Hanoi with their direct staircases and outward-facing front doors for the first-floor apartments, the old-style buildings in District 5 are much more "stylish," projecting an air of mystery and inscrutability.

The apartment complex here should really be called a residential neighborhood. It's identified by a rather wide arched gateway, above which are carved Chinese characters bearing the name of an alley or neighborhood. Stepping through the old gate and walking a short, dimly lit alley, I found myself in a small, deserted courtyard, bathed in sunlight and breeze, faintly scented with incense, and filled only with the single sound of silence. On either side of the courtyard were two rows of buildings, each containing several dozen apartments sharing a narrow corridor, so narrow that two people wanting to go in opposite directions would have to squeeze past each other very carefully. The apartments in this Chinese-owned complex are mostly quite cramped, each painted in a vibrant color, creating a moving and poetic picture, a jumble of warm and cool hues—blue, red, yellow, pink.

I stood there for a while, my gaze sweeping across the surrounding space. A vague, familiar feeling, mixed with a strange tremor, overwhelmed my senses. I drifted into a dreamlike state, as if standing on a tiny, invisible time machine, the scenery around me rapidly changing before my eyes, then suddenly settling into a bygone era of the 1960s. That was the time when Maggie Cheung, in the film "In the Mood for Love," wore a silk cheongsam, graceful and gentle, standing thoughtfully by the slightly ajar window of a second-floor room. There was the artist with the melancholic eyes, harboring a dreamy, longing. There was also a group of five or seven ordinary working-class people from the TVB film studio, the famous Hong Kong film company of the past, sharing an apartment. Reason reminds me I'm standing on a Chinese street in Saigon, in the mid-2010s, but emotions lead me on a journey to a dreamlike realm called "Little Hong Kong," belonging to more than half a century ago.

Having lived through more than half of a person's life, Chinatown inevitably gets swept along by the currents of the world. But deep within their hearts, the people here still wholeheartedly preserve their ancient traditions as a beautiful cultural heritage ingrained in their blood. When each workday ends, the Chinese shed the burdens of making a living to return to their simple homes. They speak Cantonese, live at a slow pace, and greatly enjoy communal living. They are friendly and hospitable. Seeing tourists like me browsing, some even proactively asked questions and led me to the highest floors, to the most secluded corners, to capture the ancient, unassuming soul of Chinatown.

The Chinese are known for their love of community life, so when they migrated to Saigon in the past, they meticulously built many temples, assembly halls, and theaters. Besides worshipping Buddha, these temples also housed many deities from Chinese folklore, including the four disciples of Tang Sanzang from the novel "Journey to the West." Chinese assembly halls often resemble temples and pagodas in architectural style, sometimes even being located within famous temples. These were places where the Chinese met and socialized, occasionally hosting traditional art performances, and today they are also used as Chinese language schools for the children of local families. The theaters and cinemas in District 5 still retain much of their old-world charm, but they have all since been dismantled. A friend once said, "Hong Kong was at its most beautiful in the 1960s." Surely, this "Little Hong Kong" in Saigon was also like that. That's why the people here stubbornly cling to the old appearance that has stood the test of time.

Unique street food flavors

After wandering around and exploring, I treated myself to some delicious and flavorful Chinese food. District 5 is renowned as a paradise for street food. Not only Chinese families but also many Vietnamese people from all over Saigon frequently visit this area to enjoy the cuisine.

The eateries here are small and cozy, with rows of tables neatly arranged side-by-side. The walls are tiled in various colors, the stainless steel tables are clean, and there are stainless steel containers filled with colorful plastic chopsticks, or food carts overflowing with appetizing food. All of this evokes images of Hong Kong from the TVB dramas that were a part of my childhood and adolescence. The food in these stalls is made with the hands and hearts of Chinese people, preserving the authentic flavors and served in the traditional Chinese style. The steamed buns are soft and pristine white. The dumplings and shumai are smooth and fragrant with shrimp and meat fillings. The sticky rice wrapped in lotus leaves is fragrant with the pure scent of lotus flowers. And if you want to buy street food, don't miss the eye-catching skewers and the Hong Kong-style baked egg tarts sold by street vendors.

After a hearty meal of delicious dishes, I treated myself to a refreshing Chinese-style drink. These drinks come in various flavors such as chrysanthemum, seaweed, and bitter herbs, and are sold from pushcarts, in shops, or on the sidewalks. The drink stalls don't have tables and chairs for customers, so people can only drink while sitting in their vehicles, buy takeout, or sit on the roadside, chatting and watching the street life.

After spending almost an entire day in Chinatown, I was exhilarated by the new experiences and satisfied with the answers I had just found. I secretly wished I could stay here, get lost innocently and happily in this "Little Hong Kong" of the 1960s, brimming with emotion.

Text: Phong Kieu. Photos: Jindy Pham

The Thanh