Nguyen Hong Phuc never studied architecture or art, but with a pair of steady hands and deep affection for her Mekong Delta roots, she has built a miniature world that captures the soul of southern Vietnam — one tiny stilt house at a time.

In her modest home in Tan Thanh Ward, Ca Mau Province, Phuc meticulously crafts small-scale models of traditional delta homes: thatched-roof stilt houses, red-tiled brick cottages, or wooden dwellings perched precariously above still waters, surrounded by lotus ponds, floating hyacinths, and bamboo footbridges.

Each tiny structure — no bigger than a school notebook — evokes an entire childhood lived on riverbanks and under rustling palm leaves.

"These houses are my memories," Phuc said softly. 

"They're where I was born, where my parents and grandparents spent their lives. 

"Every time I make one, it feels like I'm returning home."

World in miniature

Phuc's models are more than decorative objects — they are detailed, intimate tributes to a vanishing way of life in Vietnam's watery south. 

She uses torn cardboard to mimic old tin roofs, slender bamboo sticks for frames, and wooden tongue depressors for furniture. 

Some houses come complete with miniature rice cookers, altars, and stone mortars. 

A few are even surrounded by tiny ponds where live guppies swim.

Inside her handcrafted homes, laundry hangs in the sun, wood-fired stoves glow in tiny kitchens, and dining tables are set with hand-molded bowls. 

Every detail is carefully researched, scaled, and built by hand.

At first, Phuc made the models for herself — a way to reconnect with her hometown and preserve the memory of delta life. 

But after posting photos online, she was surprised by the response.

"Many people living far from home messaged me," she said. 

"They wanted something to remind them of their old house, of the place they grew up in."

Crafting memories

Some clients send faded photographs. Others offer only hazy recollections. 

Phuc listens carefully, sketches, adjusts proportions, and recreates the home as best she can.

One model can take weeks to finish. 

Prices range from VND500,000 (US$19) to over VND1 million ($38), depending on complexity. 

But it is not about profit.

"Sometimes my eyes ache from gluing tiny pieces all night," she said, "but when I finish a house, I feel like I've come back home after a long journey."

Today, she has dozens of designs, from simple thatched huts to riverfront homes with banana trees and water features. 

All share a rustic charm and quiet authenticity that has won hearts far beyond Ca Mau.

But for Phuc, the work is also personal. It is how she teaches her children about the past.

"I tell them, 'This is the kind of house I grew up in. This is how we lived,'" she said. 

"They listen with curiosity. It brings us closer."

Quiet preservation of heritage

Phuc has no formal training, but her work strikes a chord with viewers drawn to the nostalgia and craftsmanship.

With only basic materials — bamboo, cardboard, ice cream sticks, and wire — she has carved out a unique form of storytelling.

"These little houses aren't just for display," she said. 

"They're bridges between generations, between past and present."

And as long as there are people who remember life beside smoky kitchens and muddy canals, Phuc says she will keep building.

"As long as I still miss my hometown," she smiled, "I'll keep making these little homes."