Dinh Hoang Thinh

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I was born in Saigon – the sleepless city where every street corner seems to whisper a secret. Some say Saigon has no autumn. But to me, autumn lives in the soft yellow glow of streetlights through tamarind leaves on Nguyen Du Street, in the sudden rain on a Saturday afternoon that soothes even the most hurried souls. Saigon, to me, is more than just a place. It’s a pulse – one that feeds emotions, sparks passions, and silently teaches me how to feel the passage of time through the sound of late-night street vendors, the aroma of iced coffee at dawn, and the endless hum of motorbikes. I grew up under the scorching sun and half-told tales of old Saigon – where trams once clanged along the streets, where women in white áo dài carried schoolbooks past the zoo, and where love stories once got lost somewhere in the chaos of Bến Thành Market. The more I explore, the more I believe Saigon is a labyrinth of memories – easy to get lost in, yet impossible to leave behind. Maybe that’s why I stayed – choosing to uncover the little things time almost buried. And right here, I began turning passion into profession: working in the travel industry, sharing stories of a city that seems familiar but always holds something untold beneath the surface. To me, Saigon doesn’t need to try too hard to shine. If you listen closely, it’ll tell you its truth – heartfelt and raw – just like how a local wraps their sincerity in a simple “Dạ, mời cô/chú ạ.”