The past few weeks we have been experiencing more and more of the Vietnamese culture. Vietnam has a rich history which has shaped the way they are today, very close knit and community based. There are, however, little bits of culture that you pick up only from being here, things that you won't find in a travel guide. These are the things that make Vietnam such an awesome place to be a foreigner.
As most of you know I have acquired a motorbike (a Honda Wave S should you want to google it) and as I have said before the best way to get around Vietnam is by motorbike. I have been learning to ride pretty slowly, little trips to the local coffee shop and such. It is not that I don't want to ride, it's because I am absolutely terrified of getting onto a busy road. I have picked up some riding tips from other teachers and have observed how the motorbike taxi driver does it.
Words of advice from the teachers: keep right but don't hug right (because people will just pull out in front of you - a point I shall chat about further on) and drive aggressive defensively (????). Well that helps.
Tips I have picked up from the driver: just drive. You worry about what is in front of you, not behind you. This includes pulling out of a side street onto the highway without so much as glancing or yielding at the approaching traffic. It sounds crazy but it works. The next tip: hoot as often as possible. The Vietnamese hoot is different to the SA hoot. It is not aggressive or because you are in a hurry It is quite a courteous thing to do. If there is someone walking with their back to you, you hoot to let them know you are there. If you are driving around a blind corner, you hoot to let others know you are there. The drivers are so consistent with this, the other day Duncan and I were walking to the coffee shop and all of a sudden we heard a man shouting, in a very high pitched voice, "eeh eeh eeh eeh eeh". It took a moment for us to realise what had happened. His hooter was broken and he was mimicking it to warn us. You have to love the dedication to the hooter.
So, after two weeks of having the bike and preparing myself, yesterday I decided it was time. I got on the bike, helmet on, start it up. Take off in 3rd gear (because I'm pretty sure if I take off in 1st I will pop a wheelie and roastie my entire back) wobble a bit and I'm off. Onto a secondary road, crossing coming up, I do as the locals and just go. The surrounding motorbikes are like a school of fish and elegantly make their way around me. Reaching a traffic light, turn right onto a main road AND I'M DRIVING! I was so excited that I did the same trip our times, hooting and cutting in front of people like I was born to do it. I even over took a few people! Although, in hind sight they probably saw a foreigner approaching in their mirrors and moved out of the way ASAP.
Motorbike culture: done.
Last week was teachers day in Vietnam, all the children bring the teachers gifts and I have a years supply of body wash now. Bless them. Teachers week also meant it's time for a staff party. The school I work at was also celebrating their 20th year open and went all out by hiring a beautiful venue. We got our formal invitations which informed us that the party starts at 16:30 sharp, this was reaffirmed by the foreign teacher rep saying "don't be late". So 16:45 I arrive at the party and the only people there are the 6 foreign teachers. Eventually at 18:15 the party started. And people complain about African time. Pah. The room was massive, we tried to do a bit of a head count and think there were about 1200 people there. The room was beautifully decorated with kitchy gold and yellow decorations. Time for speeches. An hour and a half later the speeches are still going on and I know at some point they have to stop because there are two crates of beer next to each table that no one has touched yet. I asked another teacher about this. "Just watch, the speeches stop and the drinking starts. An hour later this room will be empty" was the reply. "Well that can't be right" I thought. The speeches eventually stopped and the beer came out. Now I know why an hour was the expectation. The Vietnamese do not sip on beer as we do. The pour a beer into a glass, gather as many people as possible, shout "Mot, Hai, Ba, Bot" and have a down down. 30 seconds later they are having another down down. They are very polite and ensure you are included in as many of these as possible and that your glass never has less than 3/4's of beer in it. An hour to the minute and the party was over. I have never seen 1200 people disappear so quickly!
Party culture: done.
The Vietnamese smile. This is something you will read about in every travel book you pick up. It really brings new life to the saying "grin and bear it." The Vietnamese will smile about everything. If they are confused, smile. Angry? Smile. Sad? Smile. Happy? Smile. In fact the only time I think they don't smile is when they get dragged into the 12th "Mot, Hai, Ba, Bot" down down of the night.
From our three months of being here we have adopted this smile. Recently the guesthouse got a new house woman. Lets call her Eve. Eve is mean to do all the cleaning, cooking and general requirements of the people living here. The problem is that Eve cannot clean, she complains when she has to open the door and Eve cannot cook. Her cooking is so bad that in a nation that basically lives on rice, she will mess that up too. Now I know I said that we have been embracing the culture, but there are certain meals which our digestive systems have refused to take part in. The whole cooked baby sparrow with brains and beak still attached cooked by Eve, for example. Or the soup with floating grey balls of God knows what in, cooked by Eve. Basically, we have been eating at local cafe's which have outstanding local meals for about 2 dollars. Sometimes we are tired and get a take away. This is where the Vietnamese smile comes into play. Every single time you bring a packet of anything into the house, Eve will poke it and let out some form of grunt. I do not know if Eve cannot speak but all I have ever heard come out of her is different pitches of grunting. Now, poking our packets once or twice would have been OK, but she does it EVERY single time we come home. What do we do? Smile at her while thinking about poking her back with a tazer.
While it is in our nature to be slightly rude about this, we don't. Remember the old saying "When in Rome..." Well, when in Nam, smile and grunt.
Blog update: done
*queue Gordon Ramsay music*
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