Ho Chi Minh did not live to see the country he helped lead through war finally reunited under one flag.
The revered revolutionary leader died on September 2, 1969, the date Vietnam later chose for its Independence Day. In the old Saigon that now bears his name, the transformation shaped by the people’s struggle for liberation remains visible in its old boulevards, crowded streets, temples, book stalls, cafés, and the constant flow of motorbikes that defines the modern city.
I returned to Saigon a year after meeting writer Nguyen Ngoc Ha. Her recollections of the old city, briefly told in Tales of Saigon, stayed with me. But this story comes largely from what I saw on the streets: a busy, restless city that still carries its past, along with a faster pace of daily life and visible signs of a more modern, daring lifestyle among the younger generation. Even the Central Market, a must-visit site for local and foreign visitors and known for its underground flea market, was closed during the first week of August this year after the government took over the land for redevelopment. That shift is not surprising in a socialist system where the state plays a dominant role in land ownership and the local economy.
Saigon was renamed Ho Chi Minh City after national reunification in 1976, a year after North Vietnamese communist forces captured the former South Vietnamese capital on April 30, 1975.
The old name, however, remains familiar in people’s daily lives. Ho Chi Minh, known to many Vietnamese as Uncle Ho, remains central to that story.
He led the struggle for independence against colonial rule and became the symbol of a nation determined to free itself from foreign control. The city’s new name marked not only a political change but also the start of a long effort to rebuild Vietnam after decades of conflict.
Near the city center, Saigon’s Notre Dame Cathedral remains one of the city’s most familiar landmarks. Its red-brick walls and twin towers continue to draw churchgoers and visitors, even as restoration work goes on. The cathedral also shows how religious faith remains part of public life in Vietnamese society.
The city is also easy to explore on foot, especially around the central district and along routes leading toward Chinatown. Locals say Saigon’s Chinatown is among the largest outside mainland China, though Manila’s Binondo is older.
Despite the warm weather and sudden rains, much like Metro Manila during the wet season, the streets near the city center are easy to explore. Many have wide sidewalks lined with shops, cafés, hotels, and travel offices-a clear sign of a tourism boom in a city that draws a large share of Vietnam’s foreign visitors.
Not Cheap, but Affordable
Locals do not always describe the tourist areas as cheap. The better word, they say, is affordable. That distinction helps explain why Saigon continues to attract visitors from across Southeast Asia and beyond.
The clearest sign of modern Saigon is on the road. Motorbikes, scooters, and cars move almost without pause. Crossing the street takes patience and nerve, while sidewalks fill with vendors, parked motorcycles, small eateries, and people going about their day.
Yet the city is not defined only by new buildings. Classic French and Vietnamese structures still stand, even as modern towers rise in the business districts. Saigon became the economic capital of French Indochina in the late 19th century.
At dusk, Bui Vien Walking Street turns into a strip of music, food stalls, bars, and backpackers. Its noise and crowds stand in sharp contrast to the quieter Saigon preserved in old photographs and personal memories.
Vietnam’s changing economy can also be seen in its vehicles. Older residents still remember La Dalat, a locally assembled car from the 1960s and 1970s. Today, VinFast electric vehicles have become a source of national pride, even as motorbikes and scooters remain the everyday choice for many city residents.
Still, the most telling scenes are simple: readers under the trees on Book Street, visitors posing outside colonial buildings, families riding together on scooters, and vendors working through the heat.
Saigon also carries many reminders of the war. At the War Remnants Museum, visitors see military equipment, photographs, and exhibits on the human cost of the conflict, including the effects of Agent Orange. At the Reunification Palace, old offices, basement rooms, and gates recall the final days of South Vietnam in 1975.
The city was shaped by war and reunification, but it has also emerged as a center of trade, migration, and a lively informal economy. This can be seen in the ordinary routines of people working, selling, commuting, praying, and raising families in a city that has learned to move with its fast-changing pace.
Leaving the Bloody Era Behind
While Saigon remains tied to its colonial past, it is also busy with the demands of the present.
Nguyen’s book offers a small opening into the past. On Book Street, she is among the writers who return to a place where printed books still draw readers. The stalls carry titles on Vietnam’s history, culture, and everyday life, even as the city around them becomes more dependent on mobile phones and digital communication.
Nguyen also recalled a time when letters carried news between families and friends who lived apart. But that world in the old city has largely faded. Today, the Central Post Office is used mainly for official documents and parcels, while much of the building now looks like a large department store for souvenirs.
On our visit to the Mekong Delta near Vietnam’s Cambodian border, we saw part of the watery maze of canals and swamps where U.S. and South Vietnamese forces once encountered Viet Cong fighters using guerrilla tactics in thick mangroves and darkness.
The war left long-term environmental damage, including the effects of Agent Orange, a chemical herbicide used to destroy enemy food crops and forest cover.
Today, the delta is known as the rice bowl of southern Vietnam and a source of rice for export, including to the Philippines. It is also a place where visitors can see farming, aquaculture, river trade, and the religious life of communities living close to the water.
A journey through Ho Chi Minh City-the old Saigon-shows how deeply the struggle against foreign domination shaped modern Vietnam. The road was painful and tragic, but it also led to reunification, recovery, and the city of captivating contrasts that visitors encounter today.