Ngan Giang
The photo was taken on a sunny Sunday afternoon on Buchanan Street - one of the liveliest places in Glasgow. The city centre was full of music and people shopping, enjoying Scottish sunshine. I remember standing there with my phone, trying to take a photo, and almost every few minutes, someone would smile and ask, “Do you want me to take one for you?” It was such a small gesture, but it made me laugh and feel instantly at home.
I come from Hanoi, Vietnam, a city that never stops moving. Even at dawn, the streets are alive: motorbikes rushing by, the smell of coffee everywhere, and street vendors calling out “xôi nóng đây!” (“hot sticky rice!”). It’s chaotic, but it’s full of life. Hanoi has this special way of wrapping you in its noise and tenderness at the same time. One minute you’re stuck in traffic, the next you’re watching the sun set over West Lake, feeling like the world suddenly slows down.
When I decided to study abroad, I felt both excited and terrified. My suitcase was packed with instant noodles, chili sauce, and a little bag of dried lotus tea my mom slipped in “just in case you miss home.” Spoiler: I did. But homesickness didn’t last long, because Glasgow has a way of welcoming you, through kind smiles, unexpected conversations, and the way strangers hold doors open for you.
Studying at the University of Glasgow has been such a joy. Every day feels like a mix of learning and discovery. I love walking through the old campus in the morning, grabbing coffee before class, and hearing my classmates’ stories from all over the world. It feels like the world somehow fits into one city.
Glasgow itself reminds me of Hanoi in a strange way. That Sunday on Buchanan Street, while the sun was shining and someone was playing guitar and singing nearby, I remember thinking how similar the moment felt to Hanoi evenings by the West lake - the same mix of sounds, laughter, and connection. Two places so far apart, yet somehow sharing the same spirit.
Being a Vietnamese student in Glasgow means carrying a piece of home everywhere I go, in the way I talk to people, the food I cook, and the stories I tell about Hanoi’s beauty. It’s about bridging two worlds together, one full of tropical sunlight and busy streets, the other glowing under gentle Scottish rain.