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Chim cảnh · Bird song as a way of life — a passion, not a place

The Birdsong Hobby

Every Saturday and Sunday morning before six, a corner of Tao Đàn Park in District 1 disappears under hundreds of hanging cages. This is the first in a new series about the passions Saigon's residents pursue — starting with an obsession that has shaped its own trends, its own dialects of birdsong, and its own dynasties of master cage-makers for well over a century.

Waves of birds

Talk to any longtime bird-keeper in Ho Chi Minh City and they'll describe the hobby's history the way a sommelier describes vintages — in distinct "waves" (luồng), each with its own dominant species, its own migration story, and its own economics.

Before 30 April 1975

Bird-keepers in Saigon mostly favored two species: chào mào (red-whiskered bulbul) and chích chòe than (oriental magpie-robin) — hardy, widely available birds that remain popular to this day.

After reunification

A new wave rises around họa mi (Chinese hwamei), carried south by migrants from Lạng Sơn and other northern provinces who brought their birds — and their bird-keeping culture — with them when they resettled in the city.

Mid-1990s

A striking Southern bird called thanh tước — blue-bodied, with a yellow tuft on its head and a purple-black ring around its neck — becomes fashionable. It's so admired that the trend reverses and flows north, with Hanoi keepers seeking out Southern-caught birds; today it's rare and expensive even in its home region.

From around 1996

Khướu (laughingthrush) from Quảng Trị province begins arriving in large numbers, sparking a new wave of khướu-keeping across the city.

Bird flu years

Successive avian influenza outbreaks devastate the hobby community. At the worst moments, keepers release their birds outright, or hide and quietly relocate them to keep the flock alive through inspections. Large birds like khướu and chích chòe lửa — which need big, conspicuous cages that are awkward to transport on a motorbike — fall out of favor as a result.

2005–2008

In the wake of the crisis, chim sâu (small insectivorous birds, in green and red varieties) become the practical choice: cheap, small enough to hide in a modest cage, easy to trade, and good singers besides. The chim sâu market booms, peaking around 2008.

A country mapped by birdsong

Ask a serious keeper where a species comes from and you'll get an answer as precise as a wine appellation — certain regions of Vietnam are known, almost exclusively, for a single prized bird.

Khánh Hòa

Chào mào

The central coastal province is considered the benchmark source for chào mào, the red-whiskered bulbul that remains one of the most widely kept birds in the country.

Lạng Sơn and Hà Giang

Họa mi

No other region can match these two northern mountain provinces for họa mi — widely agreed among keepers to have the finest, most piercing voice of any caged bird.

Quảng Trị

Khướu ô and khướu bạc má

This central province is the traditional source for two prized khướu varieties, each with a distinctly different voice — see Four voices, four birds, below.

Bình Long–Bình Phước, the Mekong Delta, and Vũng Tàu

Three chích chòe, three voices

The chích chòe family splits by region: Bình Long and Bình Phước are known for chích chòe than, the Mekong Delta for chích chòe vôi, and Vũng Tàu and the wider Southeast for chích chòe lửa — the most prized of the three for its dancing tail.

Hóc Môn

Chào mào bồ công

Even within Ho Chi Minh City, Hóc Môn has its own micro-reputation: chào mào bồ công from this district are known for being unusually large, strong singers with a sharp voice that never trips over itself.

The art of the cage

Among serious keepers, the cage matters almost as much as the bird — and knowing the history of Saigon's great cage-makers is treated as basic literacy in the hobby. In the city's Chinese bird-keeping community, a craftsman known as A Chấm became legendary for cages that were both sturdy and durable, decorated with intricately carved bone and ivory ornaments; his work became so recognizable that "lồng A Chấm" turned into a brand name in its own right, and an authentic antique A Chấm cage still fetches several million đồng today. A contemporary known only as chú T. specialized in carving the "four gentlemen" motifs — pine, chrysanthemum, bamboo, plum — or scenes of the eighteen arhats directly onto cage frames.

Later, workshops in the Thủ Đức area built such a reputation for fine cages that virtually every cage made there was simply sold as "lồng Thủ Đức," regardless of which workshop actually built it — a district name repurposed as a quality guarantee. When the original Thủ Đức makers stopped working, surviving examples of their cages shot up in price; imitations flooded the market, but none, keepers say, ever quite matched the originals. Alongside them, a craftsman called A Màn became known for "lồng chạm gạch" — cages with a base ring carved to resemble neatly stacked bricks — while a Mr. Luyễn, working near Cầu Dừa in District 4, was renowned for beautifully built, sturdy cage doors. A trapper's cage, or lục, made by a craftsman known simply as anh H. on Phạm Văn Hai street, was considered unmatched in its category; anh H., who also served on the city's bird-judging panel, once commissioned a famous double-doored cage built specifically for a champion chích chòe lửa.

Places to discover

The Tao Đàn bird café

Corner of Cách Mạng Tháng 8 and Nguyễn Thị Minh Khai streets, along Tao Đàn Park, District 1

From around 5:30 or 6 in the morning every Saturday and Sunday, keepers arrive carrying one or two cages each — chào mào, chích chòe, sơn ca (skylark), hoàng yến (canary) and more — and hang them along this stretch of the park to let their birds sing, compete for attention and, occasionally, simply show off in front of an audience of equally devoted strangers. Regulars sit at small wooden tables nearby with coffee and breakfast, sorting the morning's birds informally into singers, dancers and fighters as the chorus builds around them. It has become enough of a fixture that visiting journalists and tourists now treat it as a genuine only-in-Saigon experience, even though almost none of it is staged for outsiders.

The Tết chào mào singing contest at Tao Đàn's flower festival

Hội hoa xuân, Tao Đàn Park, around Lunar New Year

Each year during Tao Đàn's flower festival, keepers from Ho Chi Minh City and neighboring provinces — Bình Dương, Bình Phước, Đồng Nai, Long An, Tiền Giang and others — bring their prized chào mào to compete in an open-air singing contest, with birds numbered and judged in successive elimination rounds until a handful of finalists remain. One recent edition drew close to 800 birds, turning a corner of the park into a genuinely deafening, color-and-birdsong-filled spectacle for the length of the holiday.

The legendary birds — and the men who wouldn't sell them

A skylark that sang in seven or eight voices

Around 1995, a keeper remembered simply as chú B. "lớn" owned a sơn ca — a skylark — capable of shifting between seven or eight distinct song patterns within a single burst, leaving listeners, by the accounts of those who heard it, genuinely short of breath. The bird sang while spreading its wings and fanning its tail, a visual performance to match the vocal one. A rival keeper known as Chí Dục Há owned a different skylark famous for a habit of its own: it sang while lifting one leg and tapping out a rhythm, then switching to the other leg to continue — a bird that used to practice, as keepers put it, at a restaurant in District 11.

The shama that turned down three hundred dollars

A keeper remembered as chú L. owned a chích chòe lửa (white-rumped shama) that won first prize at every competition it entered. During one such competition, a well-known bird judge nicknamed H. "du đô" introduced chú L. to a buyer from Thủ Đức, who handed over a business card and made an open offer: whenever chú L. was ready to give up the bird, he would pay 300 US dollars for it, no questions asked — an extraordinary sum at a time when even excellent birds typically sold for a few hundred thousand đồng. Chú L. declined to sell that day. He eventually did part with the bird years later — for nearly 6 million đồng, by which point its reputation had only grown.

Sixteen years, no price

Among keepers who prize longevity over trophies, one man remembered only as anh T., on Nguyễn Tri Phương street, kept a single chích chòe than for sixteen years — and, by every account, never once agreed to name a price for it, no matter who asked.

Four voices, four birds

Họa mi

The connoisseur's choice

Best sourced from Lạng Sơn or Hà Giang

Widely agreed to have the finest voice of any caged bird in Vietnam — sharp and ringing, almost piercingly loud at close range, the standard against which other singers are measured.

Chích chòe lửa

The dancer

Best sourced from Vũng Tàu and the wider Southeast

A deeper, mellower voice than its cousin chích chòe than, paired with an elaborate tail-fanning display that keepers rate as highly as the song itself.

Khướu

The deep register

Best sourced from Quảng Trị

Keepers distinguish carefully between varieties: khướu bạc má has a lower, huskier voice, while khướu mun (or khướu ô) is prized for a clearer, deeper tone capable of holding many distinct song patterns.

Chim khoen (chim vành khuyên)

The trill specialist

Widely kept across the south

Famous for its "líu" — a rapid trilling call. The very best birds can trill up to a dozen times in a single burst, some opening their beak fully or fanning their tail as they do it, a display keepers watch as closely as they listen.

Practical info

The Tao Đàn bird gathering happens informally, without an entrance fee, every Saturday and Sunday morning from around 5:30 to mid-morning — arrive early for the fullest chorus and the most cages on display. The annual chào mào singing contest runs during Tao Đàn's Lunar New Year flower festival, timed to the week or so before and after Tết.

Visitors are welcome to watch and listen; as with most hobbyist gatherings, striking up a conversation with a keeper about their bird is usually the easiest way in.

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