Saigon – Ho Chi Minh city exists in our breaths, as the streets and towns. You are submerged in it. You enjoy everything belonging to it. You definitely belong to the city …
Staying …
On 26/4/1975, my husband, a French citizen, took me to Tan Son Nhat airport to leave Saigon. Sitting in the waiting area, I looked up the gloomy sky of the summer. Then, I turned my head as if I refused the unbeatable colour, and thought of everything …
I got on a car and came back to the mansion on Dien Bien Phu. The gate opened. My husband was not surprised. I took off my shoes and glided on the grass with my bare feet. I said to Charles Duc “I want to stay. I am a cai luong artist. My life is here …” My husband walked quietly by my side. I looked up to the sky, the blue and red French flag flew on top of the roof. The soil was cool under my feet.
Few months later, I was overjoyed with a good news: I was going to be a mother. When everything was thought to be foreordained, I no longer struggled searching for something that I could not have, then a new life started in me. A double happiness. 
In 1976, Saigon had a new name. My son was born, carrying Bao Giang river – my birth place. He left Vietnam as a Visa student and had an independent life. His personal belongings were a monochord, a black belt of Vietnamese martial art, and a peaceful childhood in the peaceful city. Up until now, he still carefully writes on letters to me in Vietnamese: Nguyen Thi Bach Tuyet, Ho Chi Minh city, Vietnam.
Once, I performed Ms. Luu’s Life at a big theatre in Ha Noi. My son had a business trip in Hong Kong. He flew straight to Ha Noi, and bought a ticket to watch me. After the show, he went to the back stage. Vo Minh Luan, actor Kim Tu Long, and other artists were very surprised. Ms. Luu, I, stared at my son. That night, after visiting Bai Dinh temple, my son and I watched the moon and stars in Ha Noi. I said “The furthest that I used to go was Hue. I couldn’t imagine the other half of the country. I thought one day I would want to go through the whole country. That’s why I love a sentence in Mr. Trinh Cong Son’s song – blue sea and rivers make a complete circle of Vietnam.
Coming back…
Half of a year before Pham Huynh Tam Lang passed away, he asked his niece to take him to visit me at district 9. He was not well, but he was full of warmth and kindness. He passed by apartment building Thu Duc, where we used to live. The trees and the roads were still there. After our talks and other quiet moments, he climbed on the motorcycle going home. Two gray hair people said goodbye to each other. We parted. He went home back on the same road. The road now becomes a highway. 
My husband, my son’s father, had a dauntless life. The day he got an illness, he was still optimistic and courteous. We planned to have tea at the front porch of our house and talked about our lives. He said “I am going to France to see my doctor. I will be back in a few days. I will let you know.” We exchanged emails regularly every day. Sometimes there was no message for days. I called. Our son was next to his papa. My husband said he would be back to Ho Chi Minh city on April 8, and “two of us will have a breakfast at Continental…”
But Ba Duc did not come back. I revisited our mansion 378 bis of 41 years ago. He passed away in France. He asked the children to take him home …
I cuddled the ashes of the generous and daring person. I could see the sky of Duy Tan, 378 bis Dien Bien Phu. His away trips and returns were always adventurous and difficult. That night, I sat at the corner of the balcony of Park Hyatt, drank hot cacao, and thought of the smoke and the “clicking” sound of the Zippo lighter. I looked through a chink in the door. It was foggy outside. People were going for late night congee.
On 16/6/2009 night, I greeted my teacher – People’s Artist Phung Ha – coming home to Nghe Si temple in Go Vap, in an ambulance with flashing lights but no siren. It was like our coming home from a faraway trip. She laid quietly, but her face looked glorious as if she was on the stage.
Her funeral was taken care solemnly and thoughtfully. Later, I learned that she put aside some money for her own funeral. I remembered her saying when she visited me at my house for few days that “This city is very kind to me, but I don’t want to bother its people, to waste government’s resources because they belong to the audience. I have already prepared for everything.” 
This city seems to be ageless. Forty years, the city has kept pace with the flow of hundreds of years creating a sap with full of positive energy. Is it because we are in the South, thus most of developing journeys of many countries in the world always head south? Saigon – Ho Chi Minh city is also in such mindset – the frontiersmen.
Strange. I remembered the feeling of the summer 41 years ago. I was curious and a little excited to find out another view of life. I was not afraid, though a little worried. But this city always brings peace and gives me a sense of belonging. The days I played Duong Van Nga Empress in 1978-1979, I understood clearly that I was not just an artist. On the flight back, I and my colleagues of 2-84 troop, People’s Artist Ngoc Giau, People’s Artist Le Thuy, People’s Artist Diep Lang, People’s Artist Thanh Tong, People’s Artist Thanh Hai, artist Minh Vuong … were like the children coming home into the arms of our families, government, and the people of the city. My son was a little upset since I was away for too long. He hesitantly welcomed me, then gave me a hug. 
Saigon – Ho Chi Minh city exists in our breaths, as the streets and towns. You are submerged in it. You enjoy everything belonging to it. You definitely belong to the city. This city belongs to you. Habits. Taste. Mood. They are all you.
All my life as an actress, I stood in front of billions of audiences, on hundreds in theaters in the country and abroad. But only at Saigon – Ho Chi Minh city, I always feel happy and full of love at the end of the show, on the way home, getting in the car, opening the window, and gazing at the streets. I performed at Quoc Thanh theatre, Nguyen Van Hao theatre (Cong Nhan theatre now), and then other theatres like Hung Dao, Thu Do, Hao Hue … There were days when I ran between shows, I felt like I was a little dark skin girl running around Nancy – Cong Hoa area (Nguyen Van Cu street now). Friendly. Secured. 
I visited my teacher this afternoon. It has been seven years since she had gone. Nghe Si temple, a tiny portion of her property, is still a little messy and colourful. But no problem, everyone, such as artists, stage workers, audiences, still got together, greeted each other, lit up incense sticks at the garden, and mumbled along Tan Tai CD, and legendary Thanh Nga CD …
This land has turned spirituality.
People’s Artists Bach Tuyet – Phu Nu Ho Chi Minh City newspapers (20/6/2016)