Chợ Lớn— Saigon's Very Own Chinatown
- Julianne Chin
- 6 days ago
- 7 min read
The City Within a City: Life and Belief in Chợ Lớn
Within District 5 of Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City) lies a historic Chinatown, known as Chợ Lớn. Once a separate city, it still feels like its own world, standing apart within modern Saigon with a cultural identity shaped by centuries of Chinese migration and tradition.
Over time, Chợ Lớn has become a place of cultural convergence, where Hoa (ethnic Chinese in Vietnam), Vietnamese, and European influences overlap and intermingle. It is home to culture, beliefs and gods that have journeyed across seas. Yet, nothing remains 'expats' in the area. In Chợ Lớn, once 'imported' culture and faiths are being reimagined; much like its Hoa communities, they take on new identities shaped by local culture, languages, and traditions.
The Chinatown of Saigon
The history of migration and cultural influence between the Vietnamese and Chinese communities has long been intertwined. Chợ Lớn rose from waves of Chinese migration during the late 17th century, when merchants and refugees—many fleeing the fall of the Ming dynasty—settled in southern Vietnam. As I discovered that I spent far too much time making my blog posts overly factual and precise, losing focus on my own point of view and character, please instead refer to Laurent Gédéon’s article Cholon: a ‘little China’ in the heart of Saigon for a concise history of this thriving community.
While the majority of the population in District 5 is no longer ethnic Chinese, the area still serves as the home and cultural heart of the Hoa community in Saigon, and continues to retain its distinct cultural, linguistic, and commercial identity.
As I ventured around the area, I wandered through local alleys while making my way between more popular landmarks such as Bình Tây Market and Thiên Hậu Temple.
Finding Cantonese 'Roots'
In early October, Tết Trung Thu—Vietnam’s adaptation of the Mid-Autumn Festival (中秋節)—was just around the corner. The streets of Chợ Lớn were decorated with colourful rabbit and star-shaped lanterns. As Mid-Autumn Festival has always been my favourite traditional festival back home, I went in search of the best festive food— mooncakes (Vietnamese: bánh trung thu) from small local shops. Pop-up stores dedicated to Tết Trung Thu were everywhere across Saigon, but they were 'Hong Kong-priced' so I would prefer supporting smaller businesses.
Unsurprisingly, I passed several shops selling mooncakes, which many offered local variations with savoury fillings such as grilled chicken and roasted pork, alongside the lotus seed paste with salted egg yolk varieties that are common in Hong Kong. Of course, my Hong Kong roots would have disowned me if I had chosen anything over the classic sweet lotus seed paste.
Later, I stepped into a small herbal tea shop run by two ladies, perhaps mother and daughter, selling leung cha (涼茶). I was craving leung cha after not being able to find it on a tiny Thai island for months. Often referred to as herbal tea in English, this bitter, herby drink is popular in Hong Kong and southern China as a traditional remedy believed to counter internal heat and heat-related illnesses brought on by the region’s humid climate.
Even in my wildest dreams, I hadn’t imagined encountering Cantonese-speaking Hoa people in such a random setting. Before I had spoken a single word, one took my order in Cantonese, leaving me momentarily surprised. From that moment on, Leung cha lives on as a quiet reminder of Chợ Lớn’s deeper roots: like the drink itself, many Hoa communities in southern Vietnam trace their origins to the Lingnan region, where Cantonese culture holds a strong presence.
While Chợ Lớn is also home to Teochew, Hokkien, and Hakka communities, Cantonese form the largest single sub-group within the Hoa population. Historically, the Cantonese once held a dominant position in Chợ Lớn’s commercial landscape. Therefore, Cantonese served as a language of trade, prompting some members of other language groups to acquire working knowledge of it for business and daily life.
The cultural and linguistic influence of Cantonese never fails to surprise me in just how widespread it remains. Sometimes, the long history of Cantonese migration makes me wonder whether I might have been living a completely different life, with a completely different identity, in another part of the world. One thought I often joke about is that, had my ancestors settled in Malaysia, I might now be enjoying more public holidays than anywhere else in Asia, while living closer to pristine dive spots than ever.
But then again— would that version of me be anywhere near as cool as the one writing this now?
Side note: Here, I treat both Yue and Minnan as languages rather than dialects, owing to their lack of mutual intelligibility with other Sinitic languages. The region is home to many diverse and beautiful languages, each deserving recognition in its own right.
Faiths within Chợ Lớn
Beyond its role as Saigon’s historic trading centre, Chợ Lớn is also home to a diversity of religions. While the district is mainly shaped by Chinese-influenced traditions such as Mahayana Buddhism, Taoism, and folk religions, Catholicism also shows a significant presence.
Although the area is best known for its Chinese temples and clan halls—such as Thiên Hậu Temple and Quan Âm Pagoda—several Catholic churches, including St Francis Xavier Church, also co-exist peacefully within the district, displaying a blend of Chinese, Vietnamese, and Western spiritual traditions.
Thiên Hậu Temple
Chinese Folk Religion on Remix
Mazu (媽祖), also known as Thiên Hậu (Tianhou, Empress of Heaven; 天后), is the sea goddess of Chinese folk religion. Her worship began in the Hokkien-speaking coastal regions of Fujian and spread across East and Southeast Asia through migration and maritime trade. In Chợ Lớn, Thiên Hậu Temple (Chùa Bà Thiên Hậu) was built in the eighteenth century by Cantonese migrants with donations from their fellow merchant communities.
Traditionally, Mazu is believed to protect sailors and fishermen as they travel across dangerous waters. Today, for many younger worshippers, devotion to figures like Mazu feels more cultural than it is religious. As a diver whose life and work are closely tied to the ocean, I stopped by the temple to offer prayers for a safe and smooth upcoming season. Fun fact: Mazu herself was said to possess 'special abilities', including predicting the weather, swimming and diving with ease, and curing illnesses. If she were born in the modern era, wouldn't she just make the ultimate diving instructor ever? Reading sea conditions better than Windy, safeguarding everyone as a dive medic, and probably never letting you skip a safety check.
Thiên Hậu Temple is a great example of how a Chinese folk religion adapted to its Vietnamese surroundings. In Vietnam, Mazu is worshipped as Thiên Hậu Thánh Mẫu (天后聖母, Havenly Empress and Holy Mother), a protective mother figure that fits naturally into local traditions of mother-goddess worship. While the temple keeps its Chinese architectural style and rituals, its role has expanded beyond seafarers to watch over merchants, families, and immigrants in the bustling urban heart of Chợ Lớn. The result is a space that feels both distinctly Chinese and deeply Vietnamese— a reminder of how beliefs travel, integrate, and settle into new homes.
St Francis Xavier Church
Catholicism with a Distinct Twist
Just one street away from the Thiên Hậu Temple, St Francis Xavier Church stands quietly among Chợ Lớn’s Chinese-influenced streets.
Built in the early 20th century, the Catholic Church has long served both Hoa and Vietnamese communities. Since its founding days, Catholic services have been held in two main languages— Vietnamese and Chinese, primarily in Cantonese. Catholicism reached southern Vietnam through missionaries and trade routes centuries earlier, but in Chợ Lớn it took root among immigrant communities, adapting to their customs rather than replacing them.
St Francis Xavier Church is a vivid example of cultural layering in Vietnam, where European architecture is gently overlaid with Chinese details—
Visitors are greeted by a paifang (牌坊), a traditional Chinese archway often marking the entrance to temples, historic sites, or significant streets.
Within the grounds stands a statue of Mother Mary housed in a Chinese-style pavilion decorated with Chinese calligraphy. where incense offerings can be made— a form of local devotional practice shaped by Chinese tradition rather than standard Western Catholic ritual.
Inside, the main altar merges East and West— Mother Mary and baby Jesus depicted in Chinese-style robes—a subtle fusion of Catholic imagery and local tradition.
Locally, the church is known as Nhà thờ Cha Tam. The name refers to Father Pierre d’Assou, the priest who founded the church and spoke fluent Chinese. Deeply connected to the Hoa community, he even adopted the Cantonese surname Tam (譚), and came to be affectionately known as Cha Tam— Father Tam. Over time, his name became inseparable from the church itself.
For a more detailed history of St Francis Xavier Church, refer to the link here.
Đức Mẹ La Vang (Our Lady of La Vang)
Đức Mẹ La Vang refers to the Virgin Mary as she is said to have appeared in La Vang forest, Vietnam, in 1798. During a period of persecution, Mary appeared to comfort and guide fleeing Catholics, dressed in traditional Vietnamese attire and holding the infant Jesus. Today, she is the patroness of Vietnamese Catholics, and La Vang has become an important pilgrimage site.
This is an example of a Marian apparition, where Mary is venerated under a local title shaped by the culture of a particular place, while remaining recognised in Catholic belief as the Virgin Mary. Other well-known examples include Our Lady of Lourdes in France, Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico, and Our Lady of Fátima in Portugal.
Chợ Lớn is more than Saigon’s historic Chinatown— it’s a city within a city, where cultures meet and produce their own chemistry, and where past and present intersect in daily life. From mooncakes and leung cha to Catholic churches, every alley is filled with stories of culture, faith, and resilience. Leaving its streets, I felt I had glimpsed a place where history isn’t just remembered— it continues to live on.
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