Confused — is how I describe the city of Ho Chi Minh / Saigon. I can sense the urgent clamor for progression, but their facades are still chained from their brutal past. The mix of French colonialism, yet carrying the heart of nationalism and local pride.
Beneath the tarnished walls and daunting back alleys, the swift motor bikes and flamboyant mosaic tiles, the warm soups despite the humid-sticky weather, Saigon was interestingly unfathomable. Pretty much like my character: seemingly obvious (and to some extent colorful) facades, but no one braved to fully understand.
It’s a paradise. It’s a war zone.
Here’s a compilation of my personal photos taken in Ho Chi Minh City back in April 2016:
