I’m not a native of Saigon and moved here 10 years ago. Thu Thiem is on the other side of the bridge, separated from where I live by a river. My daily commute is a sensory overloaded journey through the chaos of bulldozers and excavators, where the crashing, clanking, and banging seem to be able to tear through the very last makeshift houses that are hanging on to this seemingly gigantic construction site. Thu Thiem is changing by the day. The new buildings that appear to scrape the sky seem to be on the verge of swallowing those little houses, and yet they remain. Their perseverance posed a big question for me. Why the insistence on staying here in their little oases? The first time I met Mrs. Hong, she was wearing a ‘nón lá’ (Vietnamese conical style hat), standing in front of her house, an image that was starkly juxtaposed by the other side of the river – glamorous District 1 with its skyscrapers. At 74, she had spent 13 years of her life fighting for the land she plans to keep for her five children. I started out with curiosity and Ms. Hong opened the door to a different world, where I unexpectedly got sucked into a saga of common people fighting a legal battle against the government. They are the modern-day Don Quixotes who have picked an almost impossible battle with giant windmills, and yet refuse to give up.

I agree that “a country without documentary films is like a family without a photo album.” I fell in love with documentaries. A film is a means of communication in which journalism and cinematic aesthetics come together in harmony. Documentary films are important in documenting history before reality disappears and can contribute a voice toward a more equal society. This is especially true in the context of Vietnam, a rapidly developing country. Since moving to Saigon 10 years ago, I have witnessed rapid changes. The Thu Thiem area used to be a mixed urban-rural riparian zone, a peaceful home to its people and is now in conflict with the megacity project. This is an important historical period that needs documenting as soon as possible before the new megacity project takes over the area; in short, a fight against historical erasure.