Mỹ Anh has come a long way since becoming the runner-up of The Heroes in 2021. Five years later, now with a full-length album and a spectrum of singles and extended plays under her belt, the Hanoi-based artist has proven to be one of the most dynamic singer-songwriter-producer of her generation.
Living in central Saigon as a diehard fan of ice cream and all frozen sweets, I fondly remember the late 2010s–early 2020s as the age of abundance. Back in the day, across downtown, there was always a little something for ice cream fans of all preferences.
Riding a motorbike is the most popular mode of transport in Vietnam. Albeit convenient and fast, being on a bike, merging in and out of the ever-flowing, hurried traffic, might not afford you the slow pace needed to fully appreciate the urban landscapes and their hidden gems. Vietnamese artist Bờm Sketcher, on the other hand, is fully in support of walking as the best way to document the most fascinating corners of local streets onto his pages.
In the 2010s, my journey to study abroad took me to Singapore. Being a tiny person in an enormous city was a huge undertaking for a teenager, as I had to adapt to countless changes, from minute to major, at once: living in a different language, academic pressures, foreign customs and cuisines, and being away from my family. Gradually, things fell into place. The public transport worked well; the accent got more familiar; and I didn’t miss bánh mì and cơm tấm nearly as much as I thought I would; but there was one thing I never managed to entirely overcome — the bum gun-shaped void in my heart.
Natural disasters, illnesses, accidents, breakages, or even deaths: when a series of consecutive tragedies engulf a family, it’s often said that tai ương has befallen the unfornate victims. The term is also the name of a recently published Vietnamese horror game that has been making waves amongst gaming communities both nationwide and internationally, thanks to its layered narrative, chilling atmosphere, and meticulously crafted game environment.
Written by Saturday Night Live alum Tina Fey and premiered in 2004, Mean Girls is often heralded as a sharp, self-aware comedy that was ahead of its time, yet still holds up surprisingly well today. Alas, its depiction of Asians has aged a little more poorly, even though at the time of its release, the Asian representation was shockingly accurate for its time, despite some haphazard characterizations.
Whether they're from Saigon, Hanoi or Đà Nẵng, urbanites in Vietnam have all grown up amid the chaos of local street culture, where the pulses of civic life churn with every vendor, family business, and gig worker. "Moment of Stillness," a collection of colorful illustrations by artist Hoàng Thanh Hiền, was born of the artist's keen observations of the familiar scenes in her immediate surroundings.
The most straightforward definition by which to explain ayam penyet to the Vietnamese layperson is perhaps “cơm gà Indo.” It’s technically not wrong: the dish has rice and chicken, and originates from Indonesia. But once you've actually sunk your teeth into this special fried chicken, the translation seems unfairly reductive because ayam penyet is so much better than the sum of its parts.
What is the Tower of Hanoi? While this official name might sound mysterious, if you’re an avid consumer of adventure media and role-playing games or just simply a curious former child, it’s likely that you’ve seen or even played this game without knowing what it’s called.
Before the existence of Sara Ethiopian Restaurant in Saigon, my knowledge about the African country could fit squarely in a child’s palm: its capital, Addis Ababa; the tragic Ethiopian Airlines crash in March; and its national dish, injera .
As Vietnamese society progresses, dogs and cats’ role in our families have gradually elevated to worthy life companions instead of mere animal help in previous generations. While the archive of pet names today seems endless and every day you can easily bump into pets bearing hilariously human names, tasty food dishes, or glorious adjectives, the naming conventions of Vietnamese domestic animals in the past had recurring themes that directly correspond to the cultural and historical atmosphere of when they were coined.
Do you always remember the first time you tried a new food? With common staples like hủ tiếu, bún riêu or cơm tấm, that might be difficult, but I can recall exactly the first time I had bánh giò: it was from a bike vendor with a very distinctive northern-accented street call of “chưng, gai, bánh giò.”
My favorite candy used to be Hershey’s Kisses. Wrapped in colorful, sparkling foil, these little nubs of decadence made me feel special as a child, not just because of their sugary sweetness, but also because, for much of Vietnam’s contemporary history, you could only enjoy them if you have relatives abroad.
Most Vietnamese schoolkids grew up learning about Phạm Tuân as the first Vietnamese in space, but few know that he was also the first Asian person to clinch the honor.
I almost never remember the faces of the employees at cafes that I’ve been to, but I am strangely attuned to the existence of their cats. I remember the textures of their fur when I gave them pets, the little squeaks when they jumped up and down the furniture, and the subtle ways they expressed their personality during our fleeting but memorable encounters.
A grazing buffalo, frolicking water puppets, mystifying tam cúc cards, an insolent maiden in áo tứ thân, a rustic meal around cái mâm. These are just a few standout visuals that will haunt your brain upon feasting your eyes on Limebócx’ debut music video ‘Yêu Nhau (Qua Cầu Gió Bay).’
To live in Saigon is to coexist with clutter. Chaos is perhaps to be expected, when one’s habitat is a gargantuan crowded compressed narrow concretized megalopolis of over 10 million people, but few cities I’ve been to are as cluttered as Saigon.
Even though Christmas is arguably the most important holiday of the year in the west, it is not a traditional special occasion in Vietnam, at least not in the same way Vietnamese go gaga over Tết.
Quán Kỳ Nam is a cozy, languorous film that might elude some viewers who don’t have the patience to sit around sipping on tea while waiting for hoa quỳnh to blossom. Still, just like waiting for those petals to unfurl, if you manage to sit still until the end, the result is a tender beauty whose scent will linger on even after the flower is gone.
There was a game I used to play with my dad whenever we would stop at a traffic light. He would point to a random license plate in front of us and quiz me on where it came from.
Teachers are probably amongst the most influential figures in our lives, apart from our parents. Their roles are even more elevated in societies like Vietnam’s, where the remnants of Confucian principles are still present even today, placing teachers as figures of utmost authority in the classroom.
Digging into one’s collection of old mementos can be a thrilling experience. From antique watches to tattered letters, these trinkets serve as a remembrance of a period of time in our past. For Kyle Nunas, Saigon’s former Consul General of Canada (2017–2020), his connection with the bustling metropolis began with this collection of old photos captured during a trip to Vietnam over 20 years ago.
Compared to the average Vietnamese, I might be thinking about trashcans a smidgen too much — not just any trashcan, but the infamous penguin-shaped trashcans that are ubiquitous at every corner of our public spaces.
I recently took a trip to Vũng Tàu after a long summer of cultural research, which had me traveling up and down Vietnam. It had been seven years since I’d been back to the homeland, and 19 since I’d last seen the beaches of Vũng Tàu, when I was only 16. It felt like returning to a high school crush, and it made me think of the words of Trần Thiện Thanh, who once wrote, “Nhớ lúc xa xưa mười sáu trăng tròn…” I won’t say I wasn’t looking for something familiar, poetic, and possibly even as sappy.