With today 21 May being my 2 year anniversary in Vietnam, I thought it's apt to share the 5 most difficult things I had to get used to since living in this beautiful country which I am so grateful for.
1. Drinking beer with ice.
Many people don’t know this but when you translate “Beer and ice” from South African English to British English it means “I want a divorce”.
Indeed, I recall an incident in primary school, when my friend's mom accidentally dropped an ice-cube into her husband's beer. They didn’t speak for months and only after a grueling year of marriage counselling could they salvage at least a morsel of their marriage. However, they would be the first to acknowledge that things were never the same again after that fateful Wednesday morning.
Yet, in Vietnam this is the way we roll and I must confess, much like someone who is held captive in a scientology church, I am now a convert whether I like it or not.
2. Failing to eat Udon noodles with chopsticks.
If you don't know what an Udon noodle is, think of it as spaghetti that hasn’t heard about the keto diet yet.
These bastards have humiliated me on more occasions than I can count. Much like a SARS (South African Revenue Service) call centre operator, or the zipper when you really really need to relieve yourself, they are impossible to get a hold of with chopsticks. (I realise now that last one sounds confusing. Please rest assured that I do not use chopsticks to open my zip, that would be weird even by my standards. Any confusion that might have been caused was purely due to poor grammar on my part, for which I apologise.)
I once went to dinner with some friends and erroneously ordered Udon noodles. After 45 minutes of vigorous prodding, picking, stabbing and regrettably, crying, I gave up. When my friends asked me why I hadn't touched my food yet, I lied and said that I wasn't hungry.
3. Using the hooter liberally
Probably the only thing that's heard more often than the line “Where you from?”, is the hooter.
In fact, you don't even have to be a road user to use a hooter. Indeed I once saw a pedestrian strolling about in a residential area with an air horn. (To be fair 1. I think he was mentally challenged and 2. this was Go Vap after all, a district known for their “odd characters”)
In South Africa the vehicle hooter is sacred. The hooter is associated with road rage, anger and is for all intents and purposes a form of car swearing. Unless you’re a minibus taxi driver, the hooter is only to be used in the following cases:
Venting anger at someone else's driving style
Venting anger when you had a bad day at work
Venting anger when you had a bad day at home
Venting anger when you are disappointed at yourself for gaining 20kg and;
Venting anger at your father who never really took interest in what your passions were and always said your dream of becoming a ballet dancer is ludicrous. (just an example)
However, in Vietnam hooters are part of our daily lives. I have actually toyed with the idea of opening up a “Hooters” (American chicken and breast themed restaurant) in Saigon. But I decided to park the idea out of fear having to call the riot squad as soon as disappointed motorists realise I don't offer the hooters they were looking for.
4. The Knife is obsolete
Second only to an expat who's NOT a teacher, the knife is one of the rarest things to find here.
Sure you will find a knife at your western establishments, but go local and you’ll likely see a white woman on a date before you see a knife. (Which should go quite some way in explaining how rare it is).
You want to cut bread? Use scissors.
You want to cut meat? Use the tip of the spoon.
You want to stab someone? Okay here we still use knives but I think I’ve made my point already.
5. Bribing isn't bribing anymore.
Probably the only two times that I felt like I was back home, was when I had been pulled over by the traffic cops and had to pay the fine in cash, on the spot. See, in Vietnam this is not a bribe. It is a fine, which you have to pay. Simple. No judgment, no secrecy just good old fashioned “do the crime, pay the fine”
In South Africa, this is a bribe. Oh the memories of my youth, discreetly slipping a 200 rand note to a traffic cop for a “cold drink”. Sadly, in South Africa this act (much like drinking in the morning) is met with a lot of judgement despite almost everybody doing it.
On Sundays, when I really miss home I speed around the city in the hope of getting pulled over in order to experience this truly South African experience. Sadly my scooter isn't fast enough so I seldom get pulled over for speeding, unless it's on a very steep downhill.
That is all.