The woman with a conical hat was carrying various goods with a balance pole

As I wandered through the streets of Ho Chi Minh City, I came across a woman in a conical hat balancing a bamboo pole across her shoulders. At either end hung woven baskets stuffed with goods—fruit, snacks, everyday sundries—so full that the whole contraption resembled a tiny traveling marketplace. Encounters with such itinerant vendors are common here, less a spectacle for tourists than a practical extension of daily shopping for locals.

The conical hat, practical as sunshade and umbrella alike, is more than just an accessory. It has long been woven into life across Vietnam, from rice paddies to city alleyways. Much like the French baguette, which was absorbed and transformed into the lighter-textured banh mi, this hat has become both a symbol for tourism posters and a no-nonsense, inexpensive piece of everyday attire.

Whether the bamboo pole is efficient or not is debatable. Lose balance, and the baskets spill; sell too much from one side, and the weight tips awkwardly. Yet in the swirl of Saigon’s traffic, the method endures, suggesting its own quiet logic—perhaps nothing more than the fact that it maneuvers more easily than a pushcart.

On a nearby wall, a glossy poster stared down with contrived exoticism, meant for outsiders’ eyes. But the vendor paid it no mind. For her, the only concern was selling a few more items before day’s end. Watching her small figure move forward, half-hidden beneath her load, I felt a striking sense of reality in this modest scene of labor, unfolding at the very heart of a modern city.