"In the children's understanding, anyone with white skin and blond hair was Russian because they were only familiar with the image of Russian experts helping Vietnam rebuild after the war," Thomas Bo Pedersen recounted his first impression upon arriving in Vietnam in 1984.

That year, the 29-year-old reporter for the newspaper Land og Folk decided to leave Copenhagen, Denmark, to be stationed in Hanoi to cover post-war stories and the effects of Agent Orange on children. He was one of the first Western reporters in northern Vietnam.

"Initially, I only planned to stay for two or three years, but my love for Vietnam has kept me here for over 40 years," Thomas said.

In his memory, Hanoi back then was poor and quiet like a village. Noi Bai airport was very small, with only two one-story buildings and one runway. On the streets, most people walked or cycled. Cars were a rare sight, usually old official vehicles. When the sun set, the city was plunged into darkness due to lack of electricity. People had to use oil lamps, but this fuel was also expensive, so many families only lit a dim lamp and went to bed early.

Traces of war were everywhere. Many houses had mottled walls and crumbling tiled roofs. People queued in long lines in front of state-owned stores with ration books to buy rice, fabric, and fuel. Children went barefoot or wore sandals made from old tires, and meals usually consisted only of boiled morning glory, a few slices of tofu, and a little fish sauce.

Hanoi streets in 1985. Photo: Thomas Bo Pedersen

Hanoi streets in 1985. Photo: Thomas Bo Pedersen

The average income was very low, with about 80% of the population living below the United Nations poverty line (1 USD per day). Thomas himself also struggled, especially during the winter when he had to find ways to stay warm.

"Even the country's high-ranking leaders lived very frugally," Thomas said. He recalled an unforgettable memory of interviewing Foreign Minister Nguyen Co Thach. Mid-interview, Thach excused himself to borrow a suit from the agency's storage to prepare for a meeting with the United Nations. The Danish reporter thought the minister was joking. But years later, he learned it was true.

During that period, Thomas felt fortunate to meet people who made significant contributions to the country, embodying the courage hidden beneath the humility of the Vietnamese people. These included wartime leaders like Pham Van Dong, Vo Nguyen Giap, Nguyen Co Thach, Mai Chi Tho, and Doctor Nguyen Thi Ngoc Phuong, who made many contributions to the medical field.

"Thanks to them, I realized the potential strength of this nation," he said.

A few years later, Thomas returned to Vietnam and witnessed the whole society preparing for Doi Moi, the policy turning point that shifted Vietnam to a market economy model.

He observed that the government created conditions for people to open small businesses and gave farmers full control over their rice paddies, fruit trees, and coffee plants. From a rice-importing country, in just a few years, Vietnam became one of the world's largest rice exporters, similarly with pepper, seafood, and coffee.

"Vietnam's leap in productivity is due to the nation's internal capacity, not foreign aid," Thomas said. The diligence of the Vietnamese people played a crucial role. He vividly remembers a Vietnamese friend's saying, "A rice field is only beautiful when there are people working on it."

In just one generation, Vietnam transformed from one of the poorest countries in Southeast Asia to a middle-income country, all thanks to a growth miracle. And fate has kept Thomas connected to this country for a long time.

In 2002, he left journalism and joined the Danish diplomatic service, holding the position of head of the commercial section at the embassy. When his term ended and he was about to leave Hanoi for Kuala Lumpur (Malaysia), he accepted a job with a company preparing to invest in Vietnam to stay in the S-shaped land.

Thomas Bo Pedersen at Hien Luong Bridge, Quang Tri, in 2022. Photo: Provided by the subject

Thomas Bo Pedersen at Hien Luong Bridge, Quang Tri, in 2022. Photo: Provided by the subject

Holding three roles over 40 years has given Thomas different experiences and made Vietnam deeply ingrained in him.

As a journalist, Thomas captured the dramatic moments of Vietnamese life in the post-war period. In diplomacy, he recognized the openness and frankness of Vietnamese leaders in exchanges. As a company director, Thomas interacted directly with colleagues, witnessed daily life, and learned much from ordinary people.

That is why he chose to live in an apartment in Tay Ho district and continues to take photos, adding to his archive of over 50,000 images, despite no longer being a reporter. Thanks to this, he observes Hanoi more clearly.

When he first arrived, he often stood on the old French-built military tower on Dien Bien Phu Street, observing the entire city. Now, that view is obscured by the rapid emergence of high-rise buildings, symbolizing infrastructure development.

However, ancient values are still preserved, such as the incense village or the Temple of Literature - the Imperial Academy, places he has visited hundreds of times. "Hanoi today is a city that blends history and modernity," he said.

For decades, Vietnamese people have maintained respect for previous generations for their contributions. Thomas's close friend, violinist Trinh Minh Hien, recently released a new album, Lap Lanh Vang Sao (Golden Star Sparkle), as a tribute to the people and the country on the occasion of the 80th National Day anniversary.

Thomas is impressed by the energy of young people. First, there was the generation affected by the war and the legacy of Agent Orange, like artist Le Minh Chau.

With atrophied limbs, Chau had to hold the brush with his mouth. When he dreamed of becoming a painter, everyone thought it was unrealistic. When Thomas met Chau, he stood watching every brushstroke, the boy's eyes, his concentration; the painting was still vivid. He kept the painting Chau made of his youngest daughter and was surprised that many people bought the painting because they liked it, not out of pity.

His employees are mostly in their 20s and 30s. They are confident, dynamic, fluent in English, and bold in exchanging ideas. On September 2nd this year, they were the most active participants in decorating the streets, preparing flags, hanging banners, and wearing red shirts with gold stars.

Thomas feels regretful that he has to return to Denmark on this occasion. His whole family has "become Vietnamese." His youngest daughter, Anna, says she feels like she's coming home every time she boards a plane to Hanoi.

"My only regret is that I'm getting old; otherwise, I would have another 40 years in Vietnam," Thomas said.

Ngoc Ngan