Vietnam

Now that I live in Melbourne, somewhat closer to Asia, I find myself trying to agree to go to conferences that I never would have considered attending when living in North America. An example: a couple of weeks ago I attended a conference in Vietnam. The conference was great. The main organizer was originally Vietnamese, now living in the US, bringing excellent research back to his home country, while also helping an international community see the great things Vietnam has to offer. He was helping to shrink the world a little bit, if you will. That is noble.

But me, I suffer from culture shock. This was a particularly difficult trip for me in a few ways.

Way number one: The currency. It was very hard for me to figure out what things cost. One hundred US dollars was about 1.3 million Vietnamese dong. So there were at least three extra zeros attached to every charge, and those zeros were sometimes suppressed. For example, the taxi from the airport. The meter read 84.5. What does that mean, when the only thing in my wallet is 500,000? I gave the driver one 500,000 bill, and he said "Two". So I gave him another. Then he looked confused. Then I looked confused. Then he spoke to me in Vietnamese. Then I spoke to him in English. I pointed to the meter. He pointed to the meter. After some back and forth, he gave me back 500,000, plus an extra 200,000 and two more 100,000 bills, and threw me out. So I think 84.5 meant 84,500 and he figured out his own tip. Ok. Thank you taxi driver.

Way number two: Daylight. We were only three hours earlier than Melbourne time, but somehow the time zone was shifted so sunrise and sunset were earlier than you would expect. Sunrise was 5:15am. I was awake by 5:30am my first morning. I looked outside, beach front view, and saw that the beach was crowded! Apparently the locals get up at 5am and go swimming between 5am and 6am.

So I got up, too. I walked up and down the sidewalk along the beach. There were people swimming, playing volleyball, and lots of groups of older women dancing.

After my short walk, shower, breakfast, and conference talks one, two, three, I went back out to the beach. At noon, the beach was almost totally and completely empty. Apparently swimming is only for 5am. (And 5pm, near sunset.)

Way number three: The food. Choose your own seafood.

Then the restaurant will cook it for you.

I have no idea how much it costs. Just hand over the appropriate number of 100,000 bills when you are finished. Oh, and get a coconut for drinking.

When submitting receipts later, it turned out that meals ranged from $5 AUD to $18 AUD, which made them really quite cheap. It was hard for me to comprehend prices, though, with all those extra zeros on the bills.

Way number four: Shopping. You're supposed to negotiate, and bargain. I wanted to buy a traditional Vietnamese dress:

But with the coaxing of friends, I ended up with the banana dress instead:

And it cost about $20AUD, after I went home and did some math. I think the shopkeeper won that bargain. But it was worth it. Mine was the best dressed talk the next day.

Way number five: The weather. It was warm and humid and sooo lovely. I wish I had a job in a climate that is warm and humid. Like a warm hug. It feels so good on your skin and lungs. But I live in a climate that is cold and dry in the winter. And I went from warm and humid back to cold and dry and winter. The result? Within a week, I came down with a mean cold. Today, I am in the grip of that mean cold.

In fact, I am writing this post while all hopped up on cold medicine, at 5:30 in the morning. And here, I am the only one awake at 5:30 on a Sunday morning. There is no one outside swimming or dancing or playing volleyball. It is just me, in the winter, in the cold, with a cold. But at least I know how much money is in my wallet.