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 :)
No comments:
Post a Comment