Food off the Streets

By Joanna Mary

Photos by Joanna Mary

One of the first thoughts that entered my head as we drove along the streets of Saigon upon our arrival was “O my God, I am so NOT going to have a problem finding food even at 3am!” I was captivated by the multitude of street vendors lined up along the sidewalk selling a variety of food and drinks. Street vendors can often be found in parks, and in any available spaces in front of buildings. Visiting these stalls, one can often select from a choice of baguettes, Pho (pronounced fur), crab noodle soup, a variety of fresh fruit as well as fruit juices and much much more. Prices are also affordable, starting from 15, 000 VND (approximately RM 3) to a maximum of 45, 000 VND (approximately RM7).

The variety of fresh fruits available in Saigon (our favourite munchie).

Generally there are two types of street vendors, those that have permanent stalls and the wandering sellers. A wandering seller refers to someone who balances a bamboo stick on their shoulder and goes around selling edibles, on foot. For most of us, street food became part of our daily diet, as its value-for-money and we were able to experience authentic Vietnamese cuisine. Ordering is often a hilarious experience due to communication barriers, thus relying mainly on hand gestures and a constant “no no no”. Just this afternoon when I was trying to buy a sugarcane drink from this very friendly Vietnamese lady, my failed attempt of asking the price of my drink, ended up with my drink ice-less. Nonetheless it is all part and parcel of exploring Vietnam.

Another interesting aspect of street vending in Vietnam is the small, child-like tables and chairs used to accommodate customers. The best way to understand what this looks like is to try and imagine the tables and chairs used for preschool children; that would give an idea of the size of the meal tables here. Although at first it was difficult to sit comfortably on chairs and tables meant for someone who is shorter and way smaller, I grew to cherish the moments that we had to huddle together shoulder to shoulder having a steaming bowl of Pho. I realized that the small physical space helped us bridge and embrace the cultural and individual differences as conversations flowed easier and sharing (both food and personal stories) became more open. Perhaps this would help explain the sense of community and friendliness of the Vietnamese people. There are no adequate words that I can use to describe the friendliness of the Vietnamese street vendors. Most vendors are welcoming and amazingly patient while we take hours to order and even longer to settle the bills, take relentless photos of their stall and being the inconsiderate tourists that we sometimes are, make a lot of noise. Calculations are another distressing segment of our mealtimes, but help is always at hand in the form of the vendors who patiently explain  the dongs from the dollars and thousands from the millions (never once cheating us). 

However being a street vendor is not the pathway to an easy life. I had the opportunity to briefly interview two street vendors who were kind enough to share their experiences with me. I realised after talking to them that they lead a difficult life, often making just enough money to survive, with barely enough left to save. Such is the story of Nhi, 27, a fruit juice seller located two minutes from the hotel who we frequent everyday. Nhi fell from grace when her husband was diagnosed with terminal illness and passed away two years ago, driving her to bankruptcy. She then opened up a fruit juice stall to support herself and her then 22-month old baby. She shared the difficulties that she faces in saving some extra money due to high rent and competition from other vendors. She is required to pay rental to the hotel adjacent to her stall, as the sidewalk where her stall stands is the hotel’s property. Public spaces in Vietnam interestingly enough are managed privately. In addition, competition is very high at any given time, as there are about 6 – 7 vendors selling the exact same thing as Nhi, within the same street. Most times they are usually a few feet away from each other. As Nhi shared, “the only way to survive is to keep your prices low and ignore the competitors”. However what is interesting is that although competition is widespread and the stakes are high, there still exists a strong sense of community and belonging, where everyone looks out for each other. In instances where a stall is left unattended, a neighbour will gamely stand in; a common sight is to see vendors happily chatting with each other.

Our favorite fruit juice lady, Nhi.

Life is even harder for Thuy, a 53 year old street wanderer who is still working at an old age to support a family of five. Her shift starts from noon till 2.00am daily, walking approximately 20 km, selling fresh vegetables and eggs to earn a living. She has a husband who works as a builder and three children who are unemployed. A sweet and accommodating lady, she explained during the interview how life is difficult as at times there is barely enough money for food, let alone other expenses. Thuy has been a wandering seller for so long that when we asked her how long has she been in business, she smiled at us saying, “I have been doing this for so long that I have lost count of the years”. It was a bittersweet moment, knowing that for most of these wandering sellers, chances for a brighter future remains desolately slim.

Thuy, 53, the wandering seller.

In addition, another interesting observation about Vietnamese street vendors is their mobility.  This is due to the political and economic standpoint of Vietnam, as street vendors are illegal and therefore comes under scrutiny by the police. Hence in order to avoid harassment, most vendors relocate from time to time.  Although some food stalls have some sort of permanent fixture along the sidewalks, more often than not, we have observed new vendors, in the place of old ones. This is most common especially when observing the street vendor in front of our hotel. Almost every morning, we come down to the sight and sounds of the ever changing street vendors selling all kinds of food for breakfast. Sometimes it is like a hide and seek game, where one minute you see a stall you want to try and the next day it is no longer there. This shows just how fragile the street vendors set up is- here today, gone tomorrow.

In about less than 48 hours we will be boarding the flight back to Malaysia, leaving behind good food, the familiar faces of those whose stalls we have frequented over the last eight days and the hospitality of our Vietnamese friends. I am sure I speak on behalf of all of us when I say that these street vendors have been an integral part of our experience here and it has been an eye opening experience to us, the crazy Monashians, to gain a small but nonetheless deeper understanding of the lives of Vietnamese street vendors.

Joanna Maria, 25, is an Honours student doing a thesis on female gamers and identity negotiation.