GRIP, Internships Abroad Finding a Common Language through a Shared Passion for Architecture

GRIP: Sustainable Development in Ho Chi Minh City

Upon my arrival in Vietnam, my first impression of Ho Chi Minh City was that the city burst with color. The city is famous for its tall and narrow “tube houses,” which are adorned with a combination of French and Vietnamese-influenced ornament and are painted in a wide array of colors.

One of the things I was looking forward to during these eight weeks in Vietnam was learning about its unique local architecture. Historically, Vietnam has had its traditional style of architecture, but its built environment has been influenced by a history of Chinese and French colonialism. However, in the country’s search for a post-colonial national identity, vernacular Southern Vietnamese architecture evolved into something that has now been classified as a distinct style of “Vietnamese Modernism.”

To learn more about this architectural history, naturally, one of my first missions was to find a book titled Southern Vietnamese Modernist Architecture by Mel Schenck. To my surprise, I was able to purchase it from a local bookstore for the equivalent of $11, a drastic difference from the steep $80 price tag I was seeing on Amazon when I was back in the States.

I brought my new book to the GreenViet office, the green building consultancy firm where I am interning. Many of my coworkers there have backgrounds in architecture. Before long, I was approached by my coworker who sat at the desk behind me, Phuong.

Enthusiastically, she pointed at the book and signaled to me that she had read it. We tried to use Google Translate to chat, but in situations like this, I noticed that the engine often failed in my interactions. As Phuong typed on the screen, I watched the Vietnamese-to-English translation switch from “American football” to ”hippopotamus.” We both looked confused. No, that’s not quite right. Because she does not speak English fluently and I don’t understand any Vietnamese, our communication had to resort to awkward hand gestures, pointing to photographs in the book, and Google Image searches.

She went on to show me the Facebook pages she participates in, where other Saigoneers who are passionate about the modernist architecture in their city actively post. I quickly discovered a world of local architecture enthusiasts who are on a mission to document and preserve Saigon’s remaining architectural treasures amid the city's rapid urbanization plans. She also told me about her hometown in the Mekong Delta and showed me photos of ancient villages with beautiful traditional homes.

Soon after, another coworker who had just graduated from architecture school came over to my desk and flipped through my book. Inside it, he found an essay analyzing his former school building. He then taught me about the significant contemporary architecture firms in Vietnam–VTN Architects and Tropical Space–and we bond over a shared appreciation for the Japanese architect Tadao Ando.