How Cuban man found happiness through Vietnamese cuisine and people

Even before the stall is fully set, three students arrive, eager to eat. Pedroso skillfully slices open the bread, fills it with meat, cucumber and cilantro, and toasts it. “Banh mi tastes best when it is hot and crispy,” the 32-year-old Cuban man says.

After living in HCMC for two years he has fully embraced Vietnamese cuisine,”finding happiness he had never experienced before.”

Born in the Cuban capital Havana, Pedroso was a general practitioner at the Manuel Fajardo Hospital. Despite having a good job, the monotony of eight-hour shifts at the hospital left him feeling trapped, bored and adrift.

The Covid-19 pandemic worsened things for him, making it urgent for him to escape the situation. He told his mother he planned to seek opportunities abroad, saying: “The world is vast, and life is too short.”

In the winter of 2021, he left Cuba for Russia to work as a customer service agent. But the harsh Russian winter did not suit someone accustomed to Cuba’s tropical climate. Struggling with loneliness and longing for warmth, he set his sights on Vietnam.

“Back in Cuba, people often speak about the friendship between our two countries,” he says. “I imagined Vietnam as a place with a warm climate and people.”

Pedroso arrived in HCMC during the 2022 Tet holidays, and was struck by the sight of families holding signs to welcome their loved ones at the airport.

They held placards with names to enable easy recognition. The scene deeply moved him since in Cuba children returning home do not usually call ahead to announce their arrival.

“I found it really sweet.”

Based on a friend’s advice, he decided to rent a room in District 12 to immerse himself in the local culture.

His presence quickly drew attention, and the community welcomed him with open arms.

Once when he was walking past a house filled with people partying, they invited him to join them. Surprised by the strangers’ warm gesture, he decided to sit with them.

Soon they learned he was from Cuba and high-fived him enthusiastically, repeatedly calling him a “good friend.” They sang karaoke with him, making the gathering a lively late-night celebration. “It was an experience unlike anything I have ever had.

The Cuban man recalls how, in another country, the seat beside him on a bus would always be empty, with people preferring to stand the entire trip rather than sit next to a black man.

But it is a different story in Vietnam, where no one pays attention to his skin color and instead admires the tattoos on his arms and asks to take photos with him.

After a few weeks in HCMC, Pedroso quickly realized it was a “food paradise.” Eateries stay open late at night and there are even night markets offering hundreds of delicious dishes and affordable seafood.

Pedroso met his girlfriend Huyen, a key reason he decided to remain in Vietnam, during one of his regular strolls through alleys.

Their paths crossed when he asked her for directions, and he was captivated by the warmth and kindness of the 34-year-old restaurant manager.

Pedroso and his girlfriend’s sell banh mi on a sidewalk in Go Vap District, Ho Chi Minh City on Nov. 16, 2024. Photo courtesy of Pedroso

Four months after they first met, he moved into his girlfriend’s house, also in District 12.

His fluency in English, Spanish and French landed him a job as a waiter in the expat-friendly area of Thao Dien.

Unfamiliar with the work, he struggled initially, his hands shaking as he carried food trays. Huyen became his instructor, teaching him everything from how to walk and smile to engaging with customers.

“At first I was overwhelmed because there were so many rules,” he says.

But the job brought him closer to local people.

Speaking about Vietnamese, Pedroso is deeply impressed by their solidarity and support for each other.

Huyen often tells him about these characteristics, and he witnessed them first-hand one afternoon in mid-2023 when he suffered from severe food poisoning.

Wracked with nausea and stomach pain, he found solace in his girlfriend, who never left his side, tending to him with pills and glasses of water. “No one besides my mother has ever done this for me,” he says.

In September this year when Huyen underwent surgery for an ovarian cyst, he returned the compliment, waiting for four hours outside her hospital room, taking care of her, cooking her food, and bringing it to the hospital.

Sometimes when he went outside, strangers would remind him to remove his motorbike’s kickstand while commuting, be cautious with his phone, or even guide him to the address he was trying to find.

“My girlfriend always tells me to do good for others first, and kindness will come back to me in many forms,” he shared.

In October this year, the couple opened a banh mi stall on a sidewalk in Go Vap District, serving breakfast to schoolchildren and passersby.

After that he travels 12km to his workplace in Thu Duc City for his evening and night shifts. “Life here is busier than in Cuba, but it makes me happier.”

He enjoys watching students sitting on tiny stools and eating his banh mi. In mid-November, Roberto sent his mother a video of him selling banh mi, which surprised her. “She said I look like a local street vendor. I see this place as my second home.”