Inside the Ben Thanh Market
Sights, Sounds, and Aromas
Even though the Lunar New Year has passed, the atmosphere it created is still palpable in the Ben Thanh Market.
Red banners wishing good success and prosperity can still be seen displayed on storefronts. Nevertheless, time goes by. On this bustling Saturday morning around ten o’clock, the market has reverted to its usual rhythm: a song of voices and feet.
A Thriving Marketplace
If you’ve ever wanted to enter a vibrant, chaotic, magical world of South of Vietnam, you should go to the Ben Thanh Market. Browse the countless clothing, accessories, and trinkets, and get a feel for the local culture all at once. Strolling through the marketplace is the best way to feel also the lively atmosphere of Saigon. You may eat delicious street food, chat with friendly vendors, and more.
And to learn about goods from Southern Vietnam, just visit this marketplace.
Types, colors, and flavors of products are all over the place. Almost like you’ve stepped into the Mekong Delta kingdom. This market has everything: fresh fruits and vegetables, meats (cow, hog, fish), textiles, clothing, souvenirs, and dry Southern of Vietnam items (coconut candy, dried jackfruit, bánh pía, etc.).
The “bánh pía ” should, for example, be from Tân Huệ Viên.
Layers of golden flakiness in bánh Pía’s exquisite Vietnamese pastry masterpiece make it melt in your mouth, and the first bite unveils a smooth, buttery shell. Taro, mung bean paste, or the daring, decadent embrace of durian in its center might be the filling, and the rich, savoury salted egg yolk would go wonderfully with it. The jewel in the crown is the durian-infused variety, which whispers tropical ecstasy with its enticing blend of sweetness and aroma.
The area’s entrance is evocative of a portal into another era, where the old and the new dwell in perfect harmony. After more than a century in operation, the market is both a relic of a bygone age and a hive of modern commerce. The high, arched ceiling dampens the rise and fall of human voices. Merchants shout out their wares as buyers stop to browse the silks, spices, and handmade crafts in the bustling marketplace underneath it. People are wandering around.
The delicate lacquerware rests on top of a soft glow from ceiling lights. A vendor proudly displays a menu in clean Vietnamese script as the scent of freshly roasted coffee beans wafts from a shaded corner stall. No matter how much it says in dong, a knowing smile and a little charm might get you a better deal.
The Actual Local Market
The marketplace is a sensory wonderland where one may gawk, taste, and maybe even catch a glimpse of the Vietnamese spirit. Leaning over a vendor’s booth, a French couple (I’ve heard they speak Molière to each other) caresses woven baskets filled with unusual treats, such as cashews and dried lotus seeds. In the vicinity, a group of youthful Australians, possibly on a first abroad trip, are attempting, in a clumsy but sincere manner, to negotiate the price of a conical hat.
But after you get beyond the tourist booths at the Ben Thanh Market, you’ll find the genuine deal: a whole rainbow of freshly caught fish, cuts of meat, and vegetables laid out on wooden tables, ready to be selected by the most discerning shoppers. Here, the vibe is different. You can almost smell the fresh herbs and fish as you stand there, and every once in a while you’ll hear the merchants washing their stalls. Women scurry from vendor to vendor, armed only with bamboo baskets and their keen eyesight, seeking out fresh veggies and cuts of meat.
In one spot, a woman wearing a floral shirt is kneeling over a mound of morning glories, her fingers skillfully wrapping the verdant foliage. Some meters away, a sun-tanned man uses a deliberate wrist flick to determine whether a fish is fresh. These kinds of events make this marketplace more than just a tourist haven; it’s also a place, where people from all over come to meet, do business, and just get by.
Snap Pictures, Make a Purchase
Some seem delighted to be photographed as they pose with their belongings. The most timid among them grunt and shake their heads. In this case, all it takes is a simple nod to indicate understanding. “Sure, take pictures, but go out and buy something!” a vendor says, gesturing to a handmade poster, while laughing as she offers fragrant cinnamon and star anise bags for sale.
Not every customer is catered to. People living in areas with higher per capita income often shop at the Ben Thanh Market.
When the clock strikes twelve, some vendors begin to pack up their wares, indicating that their day has come to an end. The fish and shellfish area gleams under the bright lights, revealing traces of ice melt. An “expert shrimp sorter” kneels over a basket of the shellfish, her fingers moving with lightning speed. Another vendor gets ready for the afternoon rush with flour-dusted hands, patting down and stacking neatly newly produced rice cakes. A line of customers eager to grab some “bánh m” or “bún thịt nướng” forms as soon as the scent of grilled pig wafts from a food stall.
The marketplace continues to play its endless tune as the day goes on and more people come and go. People conversing, people walking, and the distant call of a seller offering the greatest price all blend together to form the city’s symphony of sounds.
The grilling of meat, the traders’ playful banter, and the rhythmic clinking of chopsticks against ceramic bowls are the simple things that make the Ben Thanh Market so special. This isn’t just any market; it’s a story unfolding. A place where modernity and tradition teeter on the brink of irrelevance, where space and time collide.
This marketplace continues to play its endless tune as the day goes on and more people come and go. People conversing, people walking, and the distant call of a seller offering the greatest price all blend together to form the city’s symphony of sounds. No matter how often you play a song, its charm will never fade.
By Ngoc Tran
