SAIGON, VIETNAM: THIS WEEK IN COFFEE, TOWARDS THE END OF MAY

Ca Phe Da at Guta Coffee. Unfortunately, it had sugar in it.

Since I’m leaving soon for a weeklong adventure in Cambodia, I needed to get some repair work done on my backpack. I headed to Bui Vien where a man and woman I’d become familiar with helped sew a patch more securely onto the bag. As I sat there waiting, they offered me tea and sweet potatoes simply because they enjoyed hearing me attempt Vietnamese. By the time the repair was finished, I decided to stay for a cà phê đá and spend the morning dissecting the chaos and rhythm of Bui Vien while reading A Naked Singularity.

Complimentary Sweet Potato just because…

What struck me most wasn’t just their craftsmanship. It was the warmth behind it. Later, after running errands around Ben Thanh Market, I actually returned to give them more business and asked for additional country flags to be sewn onto the bag. Somewhere in that morning, it hit me again how much barriers dissolve when you genuinely try to speak someone’s language. Even badly.

At one point I was sitting there with my book, not even thinking about Wi-Fi, when the man came over and handed me the password without me asking. Little gestures like that rarely happen unless some kind of mutual respect has already been established. In my case, that bridge was built through Vietnamese — however clumsy my Vietnamese still is.

Ca Phe Sua Da, finally without milk and sugar (!) on Bui Vien

An amazing coffee came from a tiny hem tucked away in my neighborhood. Nothing flashy. Just another plastic stool, another strong cà phê sữa đá, and another reminder that sometimes the best coffee spots are the ones you almost walk past.

The FIRST best coffee of the week (until the next morning’s) in a little hem in my negihborhood.

Then came another hidden alley stand just off Lê Thánh Tôn. Two-for-two this week on thick, excellent cà phê sữa đá. I’m still not comfortable with Vietnamese numbers or my listening skills yet, so I’ve developed this routine where I hold out combinations of 10k and 20k bills and let the vendor pick the correct amount. What’s notable is that nobody takes advantage of it.

One woman corrected me instead.

I held out 42,000 VND for a 22,000 VND coffee and she gently taught me how to say and hear “hai.” I’m convinced that hearing me order in Vietnamese and say “for here” softened the interaction immediately. She realized I wasn’t just another tourist blowing through town trying to bargain people down for already-cheap goods.

The second best coffee of the week! In a hem off of Lê Thánh Tôn. And a generous complimentary tra da! (tea)

That’s another thing I’ve noticed: Vietnamese vendors, especially coffee vendors, are remarkably fair. In a city where tourists constantly negotiate prices downward, the coffee people largely don’t play that game. Twenty-two thousand is twenty-two thousand. And even in the middle of the daily grind, they still manage to be generous.

Yum.

Trying Vietnamese at any level goes a long way here. It changes the temperature of interactions. Strangers become patient. Sometimes even protective.

A ‘light’ ca phe sua da. I think the universe intervened to save me from myself.

Coffee number four was on Nguyễn Thị Minh Khai — lighter than the heavy HIT-style cà phê sữa đá I’ve been chasing lately, but probably exactly what I needed. A small break from the syrupy intensity. I still got the full red plastic stool experience, which honestly matters almost as much as the coffee itself.

Then came coffee number five.

As bitter as the lady in this dark hem, I’m afraid…

The meanest coffee lady to date. Walking aimlessly around the Pham this morning because it was predicted to rain all day, I didn’t want to venture far. I saw this dark hem where people were lined up against the walls, drinking their coffees. Looked like a fine enough spot. I started with “Chao Bui Xang!” (Good morning!) She replied “What do you want?” in English. I thought that was harsh so I repeated “Chao Bui Xang” with a smile, hoping to warm her up a little bit. Didn’t happen. She just repeated, sternly, “What do you want?” Again, in English. I then continued in my Vietnamese: “Cho toi mot ca phe sua da.” She responded, “Yeah, sit down.” Realizing I’m not going to get anywhere with her. So, I just sat on a red plastic stool and basically had the ca phe sua da equivalent of her sour demeanor. Coffee doesn’t taste good when served to you unkindly. You HAVE TO laugh at this interaction, though. I’m speaking Vietnamese. She’s speaking English. Why?! LOL.

May 2026

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