Vietnam, with its coffee shops, is like a swarm of bees hovering over flower petals: bustling and sometimes even suffocating.
In Hue, the city where I once lived, it is very easy to find a place to relax and enjoy a cup of coffee. Though geographically small, Hue offers ample space for travellers to unwind, to regain freshness lost while touring, or simply to rest their minds. Built upon tourism, the city arranges itself with the friendliness of its people, a well-preserved past, tempting cuisine, relatively cheap accommodation, and, of course, its coffee shops.
Along both sides of the Huong Giang River alone, there are around sixty cafés inviting anyone to stop by. Tourists are pampered by their placement: whether you wish to sit beneath a shady tree overlooking the river or seek a quieter spot under plastic umbrellas, everything is available.
The Huong Giang River is the body scent of Hue. Breathing the air by the river while sipping a glass of coffee feels like an illicit sensation — like discovering the lingering scent of another man’s wife on your work shirt.
The city’s atmosphere and design tempt the wounded and the fleeing to stop and heal. Tall trees stretch upward, their shadows falling gently to soothe anxiety. You can walk along the river while observing the body of the city — a body wrapped in time, with pauses that compel every visitor to slowly savour each touch, imagining themselves in the final days of a dynasty. It carries memory to the bend of time when boredom with winter and curiosity about the new world across the sea collided with the cracking of absolute power cloaked in myth. A period when exhausted ships first opened the way for the arrival of European nations.
I love the parks in Hue. More precisely, I fell in love with them.
Simply because they provide cement benches spaced far enough apart. What is interesting is that these benches are designed for only two people—no more.
A woman and I had a favourite café there called Cam En. It sits right by the river on the western side of the city, about twenty-five metres from the Festival Hotel. At Cam En we usually chose a table in the left corner, somewhat apart from other visitors. A table with three small chairs where we would sit—an ideal place to talk freely. Smiling at each other, holding hands, occasionally pausing to sip coffee. I had a glass of ca phe da, and she had a glass of ca phe sua da.
Vietnam is indeed famous for its coffee. The most commonly served variety in the country is Robusta.
Like other Vietnamese cities, Robusta is the most popular and widely served coffee in Hue. This is closely tied to the fact that this communist-leaning country is the world’s second-largest producer of Robusta beans after Brazil. Coffee has been a key domestic economic product since it was introduced by French colonisers in the late nineteenth century.
Although, as noted by Tim Larimer in Chasing Starbucks Dreams: Trung Nguyen and Its Global Expansion (Chazen Web Journal, Spring 2003), the first coffee plantation in the country, opened in 1857 around Ha Nam, actually planted Arabica.
This region was once the southernmost province of the Tang Dynasty’s territory. At that time, it was frequently shaken by rebellions from those who refused to submit to Chinese rule. In Daily Life in Traditional China: Tang Dynasty, Charles D. Benn highlights the glorious victory of the 939 CE rebellion, when insurgent forces led by Ngo Nguyen defeated Tang troops commanded by Liu Hongcao.
After successfully cultivating Arabica, the French reintroduced Robusta and Liberica in 1908.
The first area in Vietnam planted with coffee was Bien Hoa, about 30 kilometres east of Saigon. The plantation was once owned by Coronel Coffee, belonging to a French engineer named Marcel Coronel. After the victory of the Red Army and Vietnam’s reunification, the coffee lands were nationalised in 1975 through the establishment of the Vietnam National Coffee Corporation, better known as Vinacafe.
The spread of Robusta throughout Vietnam cannot be separated from Vinacafe’s successful first export in 1978.
Seeing the global market potential, the Vietnamese government, through the Ministry of Agriculture and Food Industry, launched expansion programmes involving experts and farmer groups. De Fontenay and Leung (2002) note how mountainous farmland was transformed into monoculture coffee business areas. To support this, Vinacafe built purchasing units that worked directly with farmers while also providing consultation and assistance to maintain product quality.
The communist government also protected the domestic coffee trade chain. Imported Robusta faced progressive taxes, resulting in high selling prices with uncertain quality. This encouraged small cafés to buy and trade local coffee, shaping domestic consumption trends. The progressive tax policy was accompanied by domestic quality-improvement projects.
This ambitious project began after the war ended in the mid-1990s. The government launched intensive coffee planting programmes. Farmers received subsidies and worked on state-owned agricultural land. To support them, Vietnam mobilised newly graduated agricultural scholars, granting them above-average wages and funding coordinated directly by the Ministry of Agriculture. Research to improve quality was empowered, experimental plantations were opened, and these scholars were instructed to live among farmers and experience the realities of coffee cultivation firsthand. All of this was to ensure long-term success. Today, the country repeatedly defeated by Sylvester Stallone in the Rambo films is the world’s second-largest coffee exporter.
In Vietnam, farmers are the backbone of the economy.
That is why the agricultural sector receives protection and subsidies from the state, continuing the promise of Nguyen Sinh Cung — better known by his alias, Ho Chi Minh.
Agricultural products such as coffee, rice, tea, sugarcane, soybeans, cotton, and rubber are fully managed by the state through national enterprises. Farmers are guaranteed purchase prices for seeds and harvests through production and post-production units established down to the sub-district level. Together with forestry, agriculture contributed 33% of Vietnam’s GDP in 2014. Around 42% of total exports came from agriculture. This is lower than in 1990, when half of foreign trade revenue came from agriculture and forestry.
But do not think this success was achieved overnight.
Vietnam undertook muddy, relentless work to rebuild a war-torn nation. Larimer notes that in 1976 the Communist Party launched the Second Five-Year Plan, targeted for completion in 1980, continuing the first plan implemented in northern Vietnam between 1960 and 1965. Reforms included improving seed and fertiliser distribution, infrastructure development, dispatching knowledgeable party cadres to the field, and implementing state monopolies to ensure programme success.
Where did the funding come from?
Vietnam leveraged close ties with other communist states such as the Soviet Union, China, and Eastern European countries, securing loans totalling US$4 billion. For infrastructure reconstruction, it utilised approximately US$1 billion in Western war-rehabilitation donations. Most importantly, corruption during this acceleration period was handled with an iron fist.
However, this socialist honeymoon was brief. Vo Van Kiet, then Vice Chairman of the Council of Ministers and Politburo member, in his December 1986 speech at the 7th National Meeting, highlighted fundamental problems in agriculture. He criticised institutional failures, especially the National Planning Commission, and blamed the Ministry of Trade for ineffective pricing systems for key exports such as coffee, tea, rubber, and sugar.
A generational shift within the party contributed to this. New leaders had not directly experienced the national liberation struggle. Though reformist leadership initially promised improvement, the winds shifted.
By the early 1990s, no fundamental changes were made while investment liberalisation expanded. By the early 2000s, many young Vietnamese no longer saw agriculture as viable work. In 2004, the Ministry of Agriculture recorded a 76% decline in farmer numbers and a 41% reduction in agricultural land due to conversion.
As a result, many migrated to industrial cities like Ho Chi Minh City. Others turned to tourism without sufficient skills or to home industries. This mass migration of unskilled labour was blamed for the growth of prostitution, unemployment, and crime.
By 2008, approximately 25,000 women were estimated to be trapped in prostitution domestically. Others were trafficked to Malaysia, Singapore, and even Indonesia. Some young men mortgaged their lives to loan sharks, working as fishermen on illegal boats. Others became undocumented migrants to Thailand or Laos.
Looking at Vietnam today reminds me of Indonesia before the 1998 economic crisis.
Yet despite agricultural challenges, the coffee industry continues to move — saved partly by high domestic consumption. Vietnamese-style coffee has even become popular in Indonesia.
Many do not realise that the single-filter brewing method—called phin—originated as a tactic to compensate for the scarcity of coffee machines. The phin consists of a filter chamber, filter press, cup spanner, and lid.
Many Vietnamese prefer glass cups so they can watch the coffee drip slowly. Contemplative: slow, offering more than enough time to breathe. Like the pause between passionate kisses and their eruption.
Nguyen Anh Danh, a history lecturer at Hue University who often drank beer with me, once said this method also holds historical meaning: using the phin is a way to forget war. Hue, where I lived, was among the most wounded cities.
Hue is the capital of Thua Thien-Hue province. From the 17th century until its fall, it was the centre of Dang Trong governance. Its strategic location made it vulnerable to invasion, especially from the north under the Trinh Dynasty.
In 1968, during the Tet Offensive launched by the People’s Army of Vietnam, Hue experienced its worst tragedy. The Battle of Hue, lasting from 30 January to 24 February, became one of the longest and bloodiest battles of the Vietnam War. Over 20,000 troops were involved, with approximately 10,000 fatalities. The city was devastated. Temples, hospitals, schools, and Nguyen Dynasty buildings were destroyed.
But the most haunting memory for Hue residents is the death of 5,000 civilians. Responsibility remains contested.
Today, little visible trace of the destruction remains. Reconstruction in the mid-1990s coincided with the proliferation of cafés along the Huong Giang River.
In these cafés, coffee is served with a small bowl of ice cubes. The coffee drips slowly from the phin into the glass. After brewing, ice is added to taste. I usually add two cubes.
Every morning, the woman who accompanied me in Vietnam never forgot to brew two glasses of Vietnamese Robusta. At six o’clock, we would sit in our rented house’s living room and drink. Forty-five minutes later, we parted at a crossroads toward our workplaces. Offices in Vietnam begin promptly at seven.
Coffee would resume at night, sitting close together while watching the colourful lights of Truong Tien Bridge.
Moments like that often made me long for home. I would tell her about drinking cheap Robusta at dawn while cleaning fishing nets after a night at sea. I kept promising that one day we would drink coffee together again in Indonesia.
A promise, as usual, I will never be able to keep.
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