PHNOM PENH, CAMBODIA 🇰🇭: PRAYERS

Prayers
Smoking style
This is how they get painted…
Weekday Morning scene at a street café
Sunrise on a Sunday morning
Khmer architecture
A Playful Kitten at Wat Saravan

June 2026

SAIGON, VIETNAM 🇻🇳: BIA CATS, BUILDINGS & POIGNANCY

Top of a Temple
35 Nguyễn Văn Tráng is one of the roughly 500 “old apartment buildings” (chung cư cũ) that define the architectural landscape of District 1.

1. Mid-Century Origins (1960s–1970s)

The building was constructed between 40 and 60 years ago, placing its origins in the era of the Republic of Vietnam (South Vietnam). At that time, Nguyễn Văn Tráng was part of a bustling residential and commercial zone near the Ben Thanh market.

• Design Philosophy: Unlike the ornate French colonial buildings, No. 35 reflects the modernist/brutalist leanings of that era—characterized by raw concrete, functional geometric lines, and open hallways designed to catch the breeze.

• The Materiality: It is noted for its “rough beauty,” featuring original đá rửa (washed stone) and traditional gạch bông (encaustic cement tiles) on the floors—materials that were once the standard for middle-class Saigonese living.

2. Post-1975 Transition

Following the events of 1975, many of these apartment buildings were reorganized. Large units were often subdivided into smaller residences to accommodate the city’s growing population. This created the “winding corridor” atmosphere you see today, where private life spills out into shared hallways with small kitchens and drying laundry.

3. The 2017 Revitalization

In 2017, the building gained a new life through the work of architect Nguyên Hạnh Nguyên.

• Preservation through Cleaning: Rather than tearing it down or covering it in modern panels, the team focused on deep-cleaning the old concrete and tiles.

• Contrast Architecture: They added glass elements to create a contrast between the “old rough” and “new smooth,” which made the building a magnet for the city’s creative community.

4. Present Day: A Creative Hub

Today, No. 35 is no longer just a residential block. It has become a vertical “hidden village” for Saigon’s youth and nomadic travelers:

• Hidden Cafes & Shops: It houses “secret” spots like Nhà Chung Cafe and the foreign language bookstore/cafe Pages of Passion.

• Nomadic Lodging: Higher floors are home to hostels and boutique stays like Onetel Saigon Panorama, offering a rooftop view of the skyline that contrasts sharply with the gritty, historical staircases.

It’s a great example of how Saigon’s history isn’t just found in museums, but in the layers of paint and concrete of the buildings where people still live, work, and drink coffee every day.

Travel Tip: If you head up to the higher floors, look for the original tile patterns; they are a direct link to the interior design trends of the 1960s Saigon middle class.

This is a building being constructed. Interesting style! I’m not sure what type of building it will be, commercial or residential, but I assume commercial. I’ll follow up on this once it’s completed, which is sooner than you think in Saigon.
Political graffiti is rare in Saigon, but this one is especially poignant. A writer is equating the reunification day of Vietnam in 1975 to the state of Palestine in modern day.
No one can carry as much on a motorbike than the Vietnamese. 🙇‍♀️
Bananas 🍌

May 2026

SAIGON, VIETNAM 🇻🇳: A Week in Coffee ~ Wandering, Wondering, and One Good Cup at a Time

rong chơi roughly translates to wandering or roaming freely without a specific destination.

Van – Always Wandering.

This overcast Friday morning was no different. I set out without a destination, trusting Saigon to decide where I should end up. That’s become my favorite way to travel here. The city has a habit of rewarding curiosity.

I wandered into a strange little courtyard anchored by an enormous Starbucks sign. That alone felt odd. In a country overflowing with incredible coffee, I still can’t quite justify Starbucks. But as I walked farther in, the sign faded into the background. Hidden behind it were half a dozen vintage vans serving coffee, tea, pastries, and books. It was less a café than a tiny neighborhood festival.

One van caught my eye: Rong Chơi Coffee.

Later I learned that rong chơi roughly translates to wandering or roaming freely without a specific destination. Well… if that isn’t my life in a nutshell.

The universe definitely knew what it was doing that morning.

A simple cà phê đen đá—straight black iced coffee—for 35,000 VND ($1.33), and I was reminded once again that some of the best experiences in Saigon don’t announce themselves. They wait quietly for you to stumble across them.

Barxiu

Just around the corner from where I’ve been living for months sits Barxiu, tucked away inside an apartment building.

I’d walked past it countless times without ever figuring out how to get upstairs. This week I finally asked someone, got redirected to a different staircase, and suddenly there it was.

Worth every bit of the effort.

I ordered their Dirty Matcha—Vietnamese phin coffee, condensed milk, and matcha. Normally matcha drinks can be overwhelmingly sweet, but this one wasn’t. It balanced the earthiness of the tea with the richness of Vietnamese coffee beautifully. Cozy, eclectic, and one of those cafés that makes you want to linger.

Sometimes all it takes is asking where the stairs are.

One morning I stopped at a tiny neighborhood coffee stand for a 30,000 VND cà phê sữa đá.

I only had 28,000 VND.

Without hesitation they smiled and waved me off.

“I’ll bring the other 2,000 next time,” I thought to myself.

*I dropped it off two days later. They were surprised because they didn’t expect it.

As I sat outside in one of those familiar little red plastic chairs, the family’s front doors stood wide open while they moved effortlessly between their living room and coffee cart. On the television Belgium was playing the United States in the World Cup.

S’Mores

One of this week’s highlights was discovering S’Mores Saigon, where I had a NEL drip coffee.

If you’ve never had one, a NEL drip uses a flannel cloth filter—a technique with French roots that was later perfected in Japan before eventually finding its way into old Saigon cafés. The result is unlike any other black coffee I’ve had.

Silky.

Clean.

Almost elegant.

Apparently it was once considered coffee for Vietnam’s elite.

I understand why.

It’s less like drinking coffee and more like drinking a philosophy.

Tách Tách

Tách Tách, another café inside the old mint green apartment building on Nguyễn Văn Tráng.

Their drink was called “Love You So Matcha.”

Japanese Uji matcha, oat milk, condensed milk, a touch of syrup…

Mildly sweet with no bitterness.

Exactly how I move through life these days.

Room 44

Room 44, a salted caramel latte. It is tucked inside the same mint green old apartment complex. There is something about climbing those worn staircases that always feels like entering another version of Saigon.

The Simple Café

At The Simple Café, I tried their Grape Chill Cold Brew.

Imagine sweet grape juice somehow deciding it wanted to become coffee.

Or maybe coffee deciding it wanted to become grape juice.

Odd?

Absolutely.

Worth trying?

Definitely.

Cà Phê Ông

Then there was Cà Phê Ông and their bamboo coconut coffee served in—you guessed it—a bamboo cup. A bamboo straw. Cool souvenirs. Refreshing, tropical, and exactly what you want on a humid Saigon afternoon. I met two new friends and rather than read my book, a daily ritual, I had a lovely conversation with them.

Mon Ami Café

Mon Ami Café, a French-inspired spot where a simple cà phê đen đá reminded me that sometimes the classics don’t need improving. And I really need to lay off the condensed milk…

Cool souvenirs: Bamboo Cup and Bamboo Straw at Cà Phê Ông

Nine coffees.

Nine different stories.

Some hidden behind apartment staircases.

Some tucked into family homes.

Some discovered only because I decided to wander without a plan.

July 2026

SAIGON, VIETNAM 🇻🇳: GOLD

gold
Khăn rằn. The black and white checkered scarf. Originally worn by Mekong Delta farmers against sun and dust. Became the symbol of the southern resistance when Viet Cong guerrillas wore it as headwrap, face covering, and makeshift bag. During the war, wearing one was enough to get you questioned by soldiers. After 1975 it became a patriotic symbol. 🇻🇳
blue on blue
as you emerge from your accommodation in the morning, you are confronted with the realization that the day started much earlier for others
is this the same expression above as below?
you learn to lock your bag pockets and secure your bag to something sturdy when you travel off the beaten path. when i’m having a coffee and reading, it’s nice to know my bag is going to be difficult to snag…

May 2026

SAIGON, VIETNAM 🇻🇳 ARCHITECTURAL STORIES

A strange red-paneled building by the wharf.
Saigon cosplaying modernism. Surely some kind of government building.

Ngân hàng Nhà nước Việt Nam – Chi nhánh TP.HCM

📍 Address: 8 Võ Văn Kiệt, District 1

Ho Chi Minh City branch of Vietnam’s central bank (the equivalent of:

  • the Federal Reserve in the U.S.
    dates back to the late French colonial period, most likely the 1930s.
    Original era (French Indochina – ~1930s)

The structure was built during the colonial period as part of the financial administration network tied to Banque de l’Indochine.

That bank wasn’t just any bank—it effectively acted as:

  • the central bank of French Indochina
A classic mid-century Vietnamese apartment / mixed-use block, probably dating from the 1960s–1970s.
possibly originally built for civil servants, workers, or urban middle-class residents during the late South Vietnam era
This is the LIM Tower 3, a modern office tower in District 1.
Classic modern Saigon development:
steel-and-glass office tower
wrapped in neo-classical styling

Ho Chi Minh Stock Exchange — usually called HOSE.

Vietnam’s main stock exchange:

  • the financial heart of the country’s stock market
  • where many of Vietnam’s largest companies are listed
  • effectively the Vietnamese equivalent of:
  • the NYSE in New York
  • or the London Stock Exchange

Tube Houses and Shophouses

Historically, because buildings were taxed according to street frontage rather than total area, many shophouses are long and narrow in shape, similar to the vernacular “tube house.”

The earliest surviving shophouses in Saigon date to the 1860s. The most common design is the two-storey type, featuring a shop and storage on the ground floor and residential spaces above.

6may26

SAIGON, VIETNAM 🇻🇳: CATS, EVERYTHING IS, JUST AS IT IS

Vietnamese cats are mostly lean, short-haired, and look like they’ve seen things. They’re not the fluffy pampered indoor cats of Western Instagram. They’re street cats and shop cats and alley cats and temple cats. They eat rice and fish scraps and whatever falls off the table and they do fine. They’ve been doing fine for centuries.

In Vietnamese culture, cats are considered lucky. Mèo (cat) sounds like a word associated with prosperity in some dialects. In the Vietnamese zodiac, the Cat replaces the Rabbit (which is used in the Chinese zodiac). So while the rest of Asia had the Year of the Rabbit, Vietnam had the Year of the Cat. This makes Vietnam one of the only cultures in the world that gives the cat its own zodiac year. The most recent one was 2023.

Charles Bukowski:
“Having a bunch of cats around is good. If you’re feeling bad, just look at the cats, you’ll feel better, because they know that everything is, just as it is.”

5may26

SAIGON, VIETNAM 🇻🇳 STREET ART: MIRROR

Mirror
An abandoned area in Pham Ngu Lao Park. This was a mural on an old Cigar Lounge Wall
The iconic conical hat (Nón lá) on the head of this graff piece
Interesting scrawl on an electric ⚡️ box in Pham Ngu Lao Park

May 2026

SAIGON, VIETNAM 🇻🇳: The Quiet Strength of Saigon’s Street Sellers

The West may come here and see “poverty,” but Saigon is far from poor.

People pass a woman in a conical hat, wearing pyjamas, balancing her day on two shoulders—selling sunglasses, lighters, cigarettes, lottery tickets, fruit, or iced coffee under the heat of a city that never seems to slow down. Some tourists see struggle. I see strength.

What I truly see is a woman with the resilience of ten men.

She wakes before the city fully opens its eyes. Before the office workers rush for coffee, before motorbikes flood the streets, she is already there—arranging her goods, preparing herself for another long day of bargaining, smiling, surviving.

She has likely raised children. Maybe now she helps raise grandchildren. She has known humiliation, rejection, and the thousand small dismissals that come with selling on the street—people waving her away, ignoring her existence, reducing her to background scenery.

But she remains.

There is a kind of inner fortitude there that cannot be taught in therapy sessions or self-help books. It is forged through necessity. Through hunger. Through family. Through knowing that whether she feels tired or not, the day still demands something from her.

And still, she shows up.

She hears “no” a hundred times a day. Sometimes with kindness, often without it. Yet the constant rejection doesn’t hollow her out. It sharpens her. She adjusts, adapts, keeps moving. She survives.

Together, these women are impenetrable.

There is an invisible sisterhood on these streets—a quiet understanding between vendors, mothers, grandmothers, and workers who have built lives out of persistence. They know how to endure. They know how to stretch one good day across three bad ones. They know how to laugh in the middle of hardship.

That is wealth.

Not the kind measured in bank accounts or luxury hotels, but the kind measured in endurance, dignity, and the refusal to collapse.

She is Vietnamese.

And just as this country endured war, occupation, division, and reinvention, she wins her own daily battles with the same stubborn grace. History lives in ordinary people more than monuments. Sometimes it wears a nón lá and offers you a lighter at a street corner.

Saigon teaches this lesson quietly: resilience is not loud.

It doesn’t announce itself.

It sits on a plastic stool by the roadside.

It pours coffee.

It sells fruit.

It smiles anyway.

And if you pay attention, you realize you are not looking at poverty.

You are looking at power.

April 2026

SAIGON, VIETNAM 🇻🇳: SLEEP

These men work brutal hours in brutal heat for money that would make a Westerner cry. But the sleep itself is not sad. The sleep is the one moment in the day that belongs to them. Nobody is paying for it. Nobody is timing it. Nobody is asking them to deliver something or drive somewhere or fix something. For ten minutes or an hour, the man and the motorbike are still, and the city flows around them.
Built: ~1955–1965 (most likely around early 1960s)
📍 Lý Tự Trọng Street, was heavily developed during the 1950s–60s as Saigon expanded into a modern capital.
After reunification in 1975, this building was eventually used by the hát bội troupe (established 1977).
Hát bội is Vietnam’s traditional opera:
painted faces, symbolic acting, historical drama, and big moral storytelling.

April 2026

SAIGON, VIETNAM 🇻🇳 GRAFFITI: THUMBS 👍 UP

April 2026