Cần Thơ, Vietnam; The City in My Heart
Cần Thơ, the third tier city located Three hours south of Saigon, Vietnam; is where my father was raised. He would swim with kids from the neighborhood in the murky river in our backyard. Most days he would run in the streets where street vendors line up selling anything from cigarettes to bananas and coconut.
After the fall of Saigon in 1975, my father fled the country to Brooklyn, New York where he met my mother and had me. While life in the U.S. wasn’t an easy one, my family managed to survive. Working hard, saving up for the “American Dream”. A house with a garden and white picket fences along with a large income.
My idea of the American dream was shattered when I revisited Cần Thơ as an adult. What was a Brooklyn boy doing in a third world country such as Vietnam? Like many others, something compelled me to travel to the South of Vietnam.
This place truly made me feel like a human being again. The strong sun makes it hard to wear most fall/ winter fashion, even sneakers feel uncomfortable. The unpredictable rain washes away your pristine Ralph Lauren shirt and foreign attitude. What are you left with? A semi-clean T-shirt, shorts, flip-flops and a smile of camaraderie because everyone else in the village is wearing the same thing.
Any true hipster wouldn’t feel like a hipster anymore after visiting the city of Cần Thơ, where a pack of cigarettes is a dollar and so is a cup of strong Vietnamese coffee. Skilled labour is how most people make their living. Locals have no choice but to make artisanal things.
The farmers market is everywhere you turn. It’s not just something to boast about on a resume, but the locals are moto-mechanics, rice farmers, brickmasons, carpenters, tailors, chefs, cooks, jewelry makers and among many other hands on professions.
In the mind of a local they’re probably wondering about their next customer; but me? I’m constantly amazed at the way people do and make things here, it truly is an art even if they can’t see it as such.
To me, the whole city of Cần Thơ is a gigantic art piece with awnings as well as the color of buildings and houses desaturated from the elements. People riding their motorbikes with their flesh exposed to the warm, humid southeast asian air. Family and friends taking a breather talking and catching up with friends at a local cafe.
It’s also hard not to shed tears of joy and happiness when gazing at the rivers, lakes, and endless patches of green rice patties; for their beauty and spirit stand the tests of time.
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I’m focusing more on writing Vietnamese content; I feel an urge to write about Vietnamese people and Vietnamese Americans. Glad I got to share this bit with you guys today.
This was written previously in 2015; and I’ve been going back to Can Tho a few more times since. And will continue to keep ties with the Fatherland.
Thank you,
Kevin Nguyen
