VietNamNet Bridge – Under the mild sunlight of October, a seasoned man seats in a small patch next to Saigon Bookstore on Le Loi Street’s pavement in downtown HCMC and carefully engraves a long sentence of tiny words that reads ‘Céline, tu resteras à jamais mon amie…à jamais dans mon Coeur, je t’aime, Anissa.’ The sentence, engraved on a horn bracelet for a French tourist, means “Celine, you will remain my friend forever… Forever in my heart, I love you, Anissa,” is meant to make the gift a special one from the giver, and an invaluable one, so to say, for the receiver.

A close-up on how Nguyen Thang engraves on a gold ring

The man then continues to engrave a name and sweet words on a fountain pen for a lady before etching dates on a glass painting for a young man. Many tourists walk along and some of them glance at him while a few foreigners take photos of him. That gentle-looking man is still absorbed in his careful strokes and meticulous patterns, sometimes making very short conversations with guests. He is Nguyen Thang, a sidewalk engraver who is considered one of last street artisans in Saigon.

Through ups and downs over 34 years, although Le Loi Street has been renovated and upgraded for many times, and buildings around have changed so much, that engraver has still sat there on a small plastic chair topped with an abandoned motorbike saddle to make engravings. He etches words, names and paintings on all sorts of metal and wooden objects from pens, jewelries, watches to gifts, trophies, engagement rings and keepsakes.

“Engraving is not too difficult but the thing requires accuracy. Engraving cannot be reversed while the items are often meaningful to customers,” Thang starts his story. “The happiness he finds in this job is to help people keep memories and make items unique and meaningful with private messages of owners,” Thang says in great pride about his job.

He remarks that like other art genres, this job requires the engraver to be patient, meticulous, skillful and dexterous. “The artisan has to control the pen and it is not easy at all in the first days of working,” Thang explains.

Born in 1954 in Hai Duong Province and grew up in Hanoi, Thang embraces a profound passion for arts since a primary student. In 1980 he followed family to move to Saigon and had to work many jobs like a bicycle repairman on Le Loi Street then a porter in Saigon Port to earn money for arts studying.

Some months later, with inborn aptitude, Thang started working as an artisan engraving horn and tusk paintings. However, tiny and sophisticated patterns on small paintings damaged his eyesight, forcing him to undergo two critical operations.

Since 1981, Thang has betted his life on the craft of being a sidewalk engraver. “People, especially my family, think I am crazy to choose a very mediocre job, but I love it and I have to be responsible for my love,” Thang shares. “Sitting here and seeing people come and go, flows of vehicles pass around, lines of trees grow up and get old, houses change and stores mushroom, I sense my life in every single breath. I have learned many things when I witness the changes of the surroundings and listen to human fates, happy as well as sorrow stories of customers and passers-by,” Thang says.

“My engravings on items now can be meaningful keepsakes for certain people, like memories of school age, recollection of war time, witness of love or ownership with names on objects. When my customers feel special for their names, their love, their memories on objects, I feel happy and that is enough for me,” he says.

“You can have the same pen, the same bracelet, the same ring like others in stores, but with engravings, your items become distinguished and unique with your own words,” says a female guest who asks Thang to etch her husband’s name and words ‘I love you’ on a pen .

Street engraver Nguyen Thang etches words on a glass painting

Every day, sunny or rainy, Thang is always there at the corner of Nam Ky Khoi Nghia and Le Loi Street from 9 a.m. until the sunset. His office is open space where everyone can visit, ask and talk to him. His set of tools is just some engraving pens imported from Australia and the U.S., some color crayons, a few pencils, screws and very old wiping cloths. All of them are put together with some cigarette boxes and a plastic cup of coffee in an obsolete metal suitcase.

“The people, the traffic, the noise, the dirt, the smoke - it’s all part of my life,” he says, adding that “I talk to strangers more than to my family and I stay here more than at home.”

His work at the street corner earns him respects from many passers-by.

“Students, workers, officers and tourists come to ask him to make small gifts special. Just imagine one day he is not on this corner while people are still working, the traffic is still moving, but the corner will be a little empty like it is missing someone who has been here for decades,” says Minh Tung, staff of a spa next to Thang’s corner.

SGT/VNN