An Indie Archival Project Dreams of Time Travel. How? Lots and Lots of Vietnam Maps.

Its entrances flanked by ATMs and adverts for international airlines, the Sun Wah Tower on Nguyễn Huệ today appears to be another nondescript testament to the global economy and Vietnam’s enthusiastic place within it. However, on those same grounds only 150 years ago, a guillotine was set up to decapitate people on order of the colonial authorities at the Justice de paix.

The Sun Way Tower pictured in 2015 (left) and The Justice de paix, opened in 1875 (right). Photos via Historic Vietnam.

This reality comes into focus when looking at its colorful depiction on an 1882 Saigon planning map. It’s possible to toggle between this surprising past and the present day instantaneously via The Vietnam Map Archive Project (VMA) on your computer or phone. More than just a repository of static images, old maps are anchored on modern ones, letting users instantly journey through time by overlaying centuries of history onto their current location.

Saigon planning map from 1882 via the French National Library archive. Keen observers will recognize Nguyễn Huệ is not a paved street, but a canal.

VMA’s co-founder Tuệ had suggested we chat about the project at a Highlands Cafe just off Nguyễn Huệ so we could see the tower in question and then journey through time via maps on our computers. Since meeting Tuệ several weeks prior at the Engaging with Vietnam conference, where he introduced the project to a group of gathered academics, I had occasionally flipped through the twenty-odd historic maps stretching from 1791 to the present day. Doing so allowed me to observe when the site of my favorite coffee shop ceased being a snarl of swampland and how the city’s central market once stood near the river, before Bến Thành was established as the “new” market.

The old market on Charner Boulevard, now Nguyễn Huệ built in 1982 (left) and the site of the new market at Bồ Rệt Swamp (Marais Boresse) as depicted in 1898. Images via Flickr user manhhai.

I expected my time with Tuệ would produce a few more interesting details about the city as revealed by looking at the maps. And while I certainly did hear some incredible anecdotes, such as the many notable buildings owned by Wang Tei, a fabulously wealthy 19^th-century Chinese businessman who ran the city’s opium refinery and the factory that made the bricks for Notre Dame Cathedral, I left with a more profound understanding of how maps can serve as the skeleton for a city’s soul. Dedicated to preserving, nurturing, and sharing this soul, VMA’s scope and scale is truly limitless, with each stage of development able to greatly enrich the experiences of students, scholars, tourists, urban developers, and anyone who simply loves maps, histories, and stories. In other words, the Vietnam Map Archive Project is for Saigoneers.

Construction of Wang Tei's mansion on the Saigon River (left) and when it was purchased by the French authorities in 1882 to house its Directorate of Customs and Excise (Direction des Douanes et Régies). Photos via Historic Vietnam.

A love of maps

“I like old maps, because, first off, they’re beautiful,” explained Tuệ. A data journalist at VnExpress, he is pursuing a master's degree in Public Policy from Fulbright University and his knowledge of data is largely self-taught. His earnest love of maps and a seemingly insatiable desire for interdisciplinary knowledge motivated him to embark on this passion project in his free time approximately one year ago. “I started it because I wanted to learn how to work with maps,” Tuệ admitted.

A screenshot of VMA in action.

Saigoneer shares with Tuệ a despair over the sudden and inexplicable loss of the manhhai Flickr account, which held thousands of archival photographs from Vietnam. “This disappearance of manhhai’s Flickr collection was a wake-up call for me,” Tuệ explains in the VMA’s founders' letter released six months ago. In response, he formed a vision for VMA as “A fusion of open access, historical preservation, and visual storytelling [...] We are a group of young researchers and scholars trying to build a home for these scattered memories. What we wanted was simple: a place that is both as secure as a professional archive and as open as the Internet. A library built by the community, for the community.”

While many of the maps are focused on downtown Saigon, which constitutes a small area of the modern city, some expand their views outwards as in this one from 1923. Image via the French National Library archive.

Since the beginning, Tuệ has amassed a small team of volunteers representing complementary backgrounds and disciplines to strengthen and support VMA’s goal. “Our mission is to create a collaborative space for our shared heritage,” the letter continues. “We believe that history is not a monologue delivered by experts; it's a conversation. You might have an old map from your grandfather. A researcher in France might have a rare document. A student in Hanoi might have a question that connects them both. VMA wants to be the room where that conversation happens. Our dream is that one day, a student in Huế can pull up a map from 70 years ago, find the street their grandmother lived on, and for the first time, truly see the world through her eyes. That is the magic we want to build.”

A sparse slithering of rivers and inexact estuaries comprise 1791’s Plan de la rivière de Saïgon. Its failure to chart the city’s streets and the imprecise placement of certain stretches of water compelled the team  to deem it unworthy for VMA; he has hundreds of maps to select from and can thus be discerning when selecting which to include so as to not overwhelm users. Other members of the VMA team, however, pushed back, arguing that because it is amongst the first western chartings of the city, the map tells a powerful part of its development. Specifically, before the French could impart so much change in the region, they had to arrive and enter, which occurred via the rivers. The map, error-filled as it may be, informs the narrative of Saigon’s progress over the past centuries. The VMA’s researchers won out, and the map is now included in the project.

Saigon's rivers map from 1791. Image via the French National Library archive.

The fate of the river map provides insight into how the VMA team works. Currently consisting of about 10 volunteers, including Tuệ, the team is split into departments for maps, research, technical details, and operations. Everyone aims to contribute at least 10 hours a week to their respective specialty. Some scour archives, historical documents, and reputable resources like Tim Doling’s Historic Vietnam, while others work on the backend framework and another team is dedicated to finding and assessing new maps. There are several great online archives of relevant maps, including the David Rumsey Map Archive and one maintained by the French National Library. Specificity, accuracy, novelty, purpose and annotations are all important criteria used to select which maps will be uploaded for VMA. And because maps are stored as images, the team must add information for coordinates and established landmarks so the maps can all be understood in relation to one another.

The search for maps to use revealed some surprising truths about cartography communities. In Vietnam, there are many original maps held in private collections and for sale. Unfortunately, their owners have not been willing to lend them to the project to upload. Alas, knowledge remains hamstrung by commerce. Meanwhile, a more philosophical argument is at play. Users will quickly notice that VMA’s maps are mostlyl Western in origin, reflective of and perhaps contributing to inequities. “Maps are a projection of power; those who make the maps have the power,” Tuệ said before explaining why the team focused first on maps created by the French. Indeed, the most readily available and accurate by modern-day standards were created by colonial powers, but Vietnamese perspectives remain essential. Given the modern-day realities, it was easiest to start with foreign ones, but they are learning about native sources as well, noting Vietnamese created maps using an alternate system informed by stars. 

Plan annamite d'Hanoï dated 1876–1883. Image via the French National Library archive.

In addition to reliance on celestial points, Asian mapmakers from the past offer an alternative understanding of how maps can represent our world. The size of depicted structures and natural features can be reflective of their relative importance. I saw this first-hand when Tuệ was creating a sample Hanoi version of the project for us to tinker with. The citadel dwarfed the surrounding area to emphasize its role in the city, as opposed to the specific dimensions of its walls. 

A matter of bodies and souls

The streets, bridges, buildings, parks, and rivers depicted on maps can be understood as a city’s body, which we can observe growing and changing across time. However, Tuệ emphasized that this is of minimal importance without encountering and knowing the soul of a city. This means details, histories, narratives, and sensory descriptions. For example, what was sold in any specific building? Who owned it? How much was rent for the tenants? Why was it abandoned and later reclaimed? And beyond these straightforward facts, what did the surrounding streets sound like at 6am when vendors peddled past? What did it smell like on a hot summer afternoon? And what about the hopes, fears, and joys of the people who occupied it?

Input of knowledge will allow static images, like this map from 1902, to have story along with structure. Image via David Rumsey archive.

Adding these details via primary and secondary sources is essential for developing VMA into a knowledge hub, as outlined in the founder’s letter: “Currently, each map is meticulously georeferenced, dedicatedly researched, effectively stored, and beautifully presented for the public. We will then establish a system that welcomes and streamlines community contributions without any compromise to quality. In another word: our small core team will build the house. We'll set up the shelves with this standardized, high-quality process, and make sure the lights are always on. Then, we invite you to help fill it.”

Additional knowledge will enhance the VMA experience, as showcased in this sample focusing on Nguyen Hue Street. 

With backgrounds in history, sociology, anthropology, and other social sciences, Tuệ’s team members helped convince him of the need to add additional sources, including photographs, news stories, official records, and diaries. Providing the body with its soul, so to speak, requires far and wide research which is currently underway. This will then be uploaded and accessible via search terms and navigating the maps on VMA.

This eclectic and inclusive gathering of material helps combat the idea that history is a matter of important men, battles, and dates. “It’s a crime to look at history as fragmented stories in space,” Tuệ said when professing the power of individuals and common experiences for truly understanding history. Only by having these details and the awareness of what life was like in the city for the average person can one begin to see its soul. 

Free knowledge with no limitations

While construction of the soul is underway, the team welcomes support. Everyone is encouraged to contact VMA and share maps as well as photographs, documents, research, questions, and ideas. The group’s research team will function as reviewers, vetting any material that goes online, but ultimately it's a community project. “Everyone can use it, contribute to it, have fun with it,” Tuệ said. 

An intrinsic aspect of VMA's communal nature is free access. A strong believer in freedom of knowledge as adhered to by such projects as LibGen and Anna’s Archive, Tuệ seeks to ensure that shared wisdom is accessible to everyone, not just those with privileged access to higher education or government archives. Given this principle, the team hopes that users are not merely passive observers; they are invited to become co-authors of the historical narrative and co-designers of the experience.

However, openness does not imply a compromise on accuracy. To safeguard the scholarly integrity of the archive, VMA employs a team of in-house researchers and engages a network of experts to review and validate crowdsourced submissions, ensuring that every data point and detail is as reliable as it is accessible.

To further guarantee that this collaborative work endures, VMA adopts the International Image Interoperability Framework (IIIF). IIIF is a global standard for open digital storage, ensuring that maps, photos, scanned books, etc., are preserved with integrity and remain interoperable for future researchers. Moreover, to ensure that their work doesn't disappear like that of manhhai’s, all information is stored in at least three separate locations, including the Internet Archive.

The VMA landing page.

There is no limit to where VMA can grow into. After offering a variety of near-term use cases such as charting the historical biography of an ancestor using their diary entries or creating an annotated guide to literature set in the city, Tuệ revealed a wild, long-term vision: fully 3D immersion. Using current and future technology, one could buy a ticket to ride the city’s 19^th-century train and witness Saigon in complete reconstructed glory, with VR glasses allowing one to take in the tiniest detail of every building along with the fashions and mannerisms of the citizenry. 

This form of 3D navigation is an ambitious dream for VMA, but every step towards it offers great value as more information gets added to the project. Tuệ agrees that now is the perfect time to spread the word because enough of the “body” is in place to entice the creativity and passion of people to contribute. Tuệ’s letter concludes with an inspired call to action: “If you are a student, you don’t need to be an expert. Your curiosity is more than enough. If you are a researcher or a collector, consider sharing just one story, one map. Let’s start a conversation. If you simply believe in this idea, your support, in any form, gives us the fuel to keep going. Let's build this shared space for our heritage, together.”

To get in touch with the team, you can visit the VMA homepage or email them directly.