Week 4/9

Seems strange to say I have only been here a little over 3 weeks because its like I have been here the entire 8 weeks with Clayton. Maybe its because so many things have happened-especially this week. This last week, in particular, reminded me that I am very far away from my family. When we moved here, I justified it as, ‘well, I will fly home the same number of times I would if I lived in Portland, so its not really any different.’ However, if I had been living in Portland this week, I likely would have flown home…not so easy from Vietnam. But maybe it’s easier being away from everything so familiar so I can live in my dream bubble of denial. I can pretend that my Grandpa is still here, that I will still get to see him again when I go home. I’m just delaying reality, I suppose, but I like it over here in my own little world.

Last Sunday, we ventured to the Saigon Botanical Gardens and Zoo. We intended to just go to the Botanical Gardens, but they are one in the same here. Hmmm, we thought, well, I suppose just get a ticket then…hoping that we weren’t spending $15 on a zoo that the local guide warns: “For the animal lovers out there, beware, as some of the living conditions leave a lot to be desired.” But, turns out it was $12,000 dong…or only $0.57 USD! Not breaking the bank here anyway. AND no strip searching of bags-I was actually able to smuggle in a water bottle…at a zoo! The marketing strategies of the western world have not yet caught up to Vietnam because they also let you walk right through the front gates with an entire cooler of food and beverages-whoa. It was an entertaining morning though, and I say morning because we only lasted from about 9-11 am before we were literally beside ourselves with discomfort from the heat and sweat staining our clothes. Clearly, we were not accustomed to the temperature as most of the locals were fully covered: sweatshirts, hoods, pants and even TOE SOCKS with their sandals. God forbid you get any sun to color the careful bleaching job you just did on your skin. ‘Same same, but different’ as the Vietnamese would say. They bleach their skin, we color ours.

We guessed that we had only seen about ½ of the zoo by the time we fled to an air-conditioned café. However, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the living conditions for the animals were just fine. They seemed like they had fresh fruits, veggies, etc, ample space and a suitable environment as far as I could tell. The problem was not the living conditions, the problem was the lack of control the zoo cared to take over feeding the animals or littering into their living spaces. I’m pretty sure the sign at the front gate read, “Botanical and Zoological Gardens” and not “Feed the animals all your western processed crap food, including the wrappers, Botanical and Zoological Gardens”. But then again, I don’t speak Vietnamese… So, when you see the baby hippo widening its jaws, its not going for that little kid that is about 2 feet away…its waiting for the bits of food that people throw into its mouth. And yes, you can actually get that close to the adult hippo as well-maybe the Vietnamese don’t look as appetizing to them, but I’m certainly not getting that close, short flimsy guardrail or not! I could see the headlines flashing through my mind, “US citizen eaten by hippo at Saigon Zoo”. But it really was people that made any living conditions bad-another example was the alligator & croc exhibit. You could walk over the whole thing on a footbridge, and conveniently toss your garbage on them. I’m sure if the punishment was to go and retrieve the object yourself, their space would be litter free, which I put in the suggestions box J It could also be the fact that the garbage cans are animals with open mouths-looking so suspiciously like an animal who wants to eat the trash. Differentiating that between an actual live animal may be difficult for them, I suppose. And the garbage cans were about 100 ft from each other, so if you happened to be stuck somewhere in the middle, not within reaching distance, the inconvenience of getting to one seemed extraordinary judging by the amount of trash lying around the grounds. But we’re not in Kansas anymore Toto.

The rest of the week was filled with delicious dinners (Jane turned out to be a fabulous cook), overcoming my fear of scuba equipment, and the purchase of a couple of rockin’ bicycles. I faced my fear of diving in a safe and confined pool, so I am now certified to dive 12 meters. However, the chances of that happening are slim because I am still terrified of sharks and sting rays and jellyfish…even cute little Nemo the clownfish is a biter! But I may have to deal with an anxiety attack sooner than later because Clayton is biting at the bit to see some actual sea life (can’t we just see it on our plates at dinner??)

Then the last thing we did this weekend was take our new bikes on a spin around town. We splurged for the 1 gear commuter bike, complete with basket on the front and optional seat & footrests on the back for a second rider (however, the weight limit is 50 kg, so we thought, best to get 2 bikes…). My last bicycle that I ever owned I got as a Christmas present when I was 12 years old, so 1 speeder or not, this was an exciting day for me! With Clayton still in his cast and sling, single handedly navigating and me, still getting used to the feeling of a bicycle, it’s a wonder why we didn’t get more strange looks! (For the past few years, I have spent most of my time on a stationary spin bike or lying on the ground, borrowed bicycle safely cushioned by my fall).

More to come next week for sure! And if you could all say one joke today in memory of my Grandpa, who had the best sense of humor, it would make his day…wherever he is.

I Live In A Resort

Okay, so not exactly a resort, but at first glance, it sure seems like it. Though I know that this is my new “home” I still have not become accustomed to our furnished apartment, full of articles that I have not carefully picked out, assembled or budgeted for. There is not a lot of my own personal energy or meaning that has gone into this place…so that is certainly a justification for my disorientation. Then there is the tri-weekly cleaning and linen service, restaurant and bar conveniently next to the swimming pool complete with cushioned lounge chairs and pina coladas just a request away. We were warned by a “cultural consultant” that some of these rarities may become a nuisance. Really?!, I said, I think I could get used to it. But is it really necessary to change the towels every 2 days? And I am perfectly capable of cleaning an apartment…why do I need help? But this is one aspect of the cultural difference between our American views and the Asian world. The class system here is more dominant in distinguishing roles and subservience than I am accustomed to. My instinct is to pick up the mop and help our cute cleaning lady, but I am certain that I would get a look of horror and a “no, please, I will do it” (though possibly without the correct grammar). So instead I pick up my feet and continue typing while the mop swishes underneath.

We really are extremely fortunate to have this experience. We live a wealthy lifestyle here comparatively and carry our fortune around with us everywhere we go. If you are of Western descent, it is naturally assumed that you are wealthy, particularly if you happen to be all the way over in Asia. It’s hard to hide your face…you can dress down, avoid wearing shiny things and generally try to blend in, but you will always be a foreigner. In the book that I am reading on “culture shock”, a paragraph begins with, “Some new arrivals feel as if the only contacts with Vietnamese that they make are with people out to get something from them.” Conspiracy theory, right? I don’t know, I’m still the newbie here, but the examples that the book gives could be my exact thoughts that I have had. The author writes, “A serving lady welcomes you into the shop with a broad smile and a little voice in the back of your head says ‘She’s only smiling because I’m a foreigner and she thinks I will pay much higher prices than a local would’.” (The book then goes on to explain that this is phase 1 of culture shock, blah blah blah…I have not arrived at the next stage yet, I am still at square one.)

The lesson here may be to learn the language, be able to communicate and your chances of buying something at a fair price may be possible…but probably not. And here is where my jaded culture shock comes in. I KNOW they are charging me a much larger sum than they would a local. That sounded really cheap, I know, but double the price? Then I just feel like a moron-no commenting on that please! One thing that I have now become accustomed to is checking to see if there is an actual price tag on the item-because there is a “local” price and a “foreign” price if not, guaranteed. I seriously doubt that a local pays $3 for 4 oranges. But that was the price that was quoted to me the other day at a fruit stand. A better lesson may be to befriend a local and make them go everywhere with you. Or if you are a Westerner, you are likely to be able to afford a maid/cook who will do your shopping for you! Thank you Jane, who starts on Monday…

Enough for now. And if you feel any sins of jealously or envy, tell yourself: that’s silly. Because you can come here and enjoy it yourself :)

Chúc mừng năm mới

Chúc mừng năm mới
“Happy New Year!”

The country was in an interesting state when I first arrived only 1 week ago. As we were headed to our new pad, Clayton said, “you think driving is crazy now, just wait until the country is back to normal next week.” Clayton has already become accustomed to the city life with 5 weeks here since his move on his expat resume. The Vietnamese have been both very lucky and very unlucky in their past, but I would say that getting an ENTIRE week off for New Year’s is pretty lucky. Dear American government, would you please take a tip from the Vietnamese and declare an entire week off of work for New Year’s? Thanks.

As we were walking around last weekend enjoying the holiday and snaking our way through the crowds, I noticed that just because Asians were still in their own country does not mean that they take any fewer or any less ridiculous pictures of themselves. All I can say is, I wish I had my camera to capture some of the best snap shots…like the guy that was posing seductively with a hand behind his head and the other on his hip standing in front of the Louis Vuitton window in a saucy plaid shirt unbuttoned ½ way paired with sleek skinny jeans (I was thinking of you the entire time Lauren!) But seriously, it was beautiful with the entire main street of downtown shut down and decorated with temporary gardens overflowing with leafy plants, orchids and the Vietnamese ‘Christmas tree’ with the yellow Hoa Mai flowers and other various attractions.

After only a week in this country I am just starting to understand the irony behind “Vietnamese logic”. Please remember this term as we will likely be referring to it many many times throughout our stay here! For example, 2 days ago we journeyed to an electronics store to get a wireless internet router. There were 2 stores, conveniently kitty corner from each other, so we thought, great! we will certainly be able to find one today. However, once we arrived we realized that they were the exact same stores, just on opposite corners (?) So, we chose the one most convenient to where we happened to be standing, navigated our way across the street, and stepped inside to surprisingly find about 25+ different router models behind glass on display. Having no idea which one we needed, we picked out a moderately priced option and called a sales guy over. After looking through the inventory book he told us that, unfortunately, they did not carry that specific model. Okay… So we choose a different one similar to the first and repeated our request. Fail on that model as well. So, Clayton asked, “well, which of these models DO you sell here?” Turns out the store did not sell a single one of them. That is your first example of what I will endearingly refer to as VL.

But I’m sure you are also all wondering about the good things out here, so let’s skip right to that! Our apartment and the grounds that we are living in now are like a fancy resort! Although our shipment has yet to arrive, we have quickly become very comfortable in our new pad. It’s pretty difficult here, with housekeeping and linen service 3x per week, a nice, refreshing pool with cushy lounge chairs, $4 pina coladas to keep you calm, because the environment is just sooooo stressful… Immediately after stepping off the plane, I began sweating through my “light” clothing, but all around I see the locals wearing sweatshirts, jackets and pants because this time of the year is considered to be “mild” weather. The average daily temperature is sunny and around 80-85 deg F (so cliché of you Vietnam for having awesome weather everyday) but yes, that is “cool” to them, never mind the near constant perspiration that covers us… So, packing your bags yet? Luckily for you, you may stay the night. If you were a Vietnamese national, you are not allowed to partake in any sexy sleepovers here unless you are with your spouse (that is an actual rule at this compound). No brothels here.

But enough of our adventures for now. More to come later, of course. I doubt that there will be an end to the cultural comparisons or silly faux paus on our part! Happy New Year's to all!