Finding the Flow: My Year in Vietnam

Entering into a One Year Teaching Contract 

With my plane ticket in one hand and my passport in the other, I made steps in the line to board the plane to Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. I glanced back at my Mom and I knew she was trying to put on a brave face, as she attempted to smile through tears.

I ignored the pressing fear that I was making a mistake, knowing that a yearlong teaching commitment was not easily reversed. But my desire to experience a new culture, a new country, was stronger than my fear of regret.

Arriving in the NYC of Vietnam

Forty hours later, I landed in a country that looked so different from my own. My eyes marveled at the motorbikes driving past, the colorful houses, and the sky-scraping towers. 

I got out of the airport and into a taxi, thick smog and loud horns all around me. A few minutes later, I arrived at my Airbnb, a high-rise apartment in the heart of Ho Chi Minh City. 

That night, I hopped on a bike and joined a street food tour from Airbnb’s ‘Experiences.’ We drove around to different street food stalls and tried, among other things, Banh Xeo, which is a Vietnamese Savory Rice Pancake, and Bun Thit Nuong, a Grilled Pork dish served with Rice Noodles.

Curious about Vietnamese food? Get my guide here.

Afterward, I was so full and tired that I fell asleep for a second on the back of the bike. We both jerked sideways and nearly fell off! Less than 24 hours in Vietnam and I nearly died—off to a great start!

The Challenge of Crossing the Street

The next morning, I ventured out of my apartment. To my dismay, there were no sidewalks! I mean, there were sidewalks, but there were so many street stalls and motorbikes on them that there was no space to walk.

I quickly realized I was better off walking in the road. Though terrified, I walked as close to the sidewalk as possible and tried to ignore the stares of locals. They seemed to know that this was my first morning in Vietnam and that I felt completely out of my element. 

When I first tried to cross the street, it seemed like an impossible task. With no crosswalks or pauses in the oncoming traffic, it seemed like I waited forever for my chance to cross. Finally, I leapt out in front of bikes and cars, scurrying across like a rat from the river. Luckily, crossing the street gets easier with time, as does the culture shock. 

A Cultural 180°

A few months later, as I was walking home from my job as an English teacher, I thought about how opposite everything was from home. Noise was constantly assaulting my ears, whether it be the karaoke next door, or the constant construction, or the crowing roosters. Besides, the lines between legality and illegality were blurred every day. 

Things that are “illegal” are allowed so often that they lose their meaning, such as red lights meaning stop. I still haven’t quite gotten used to the wild west traffic laws, nor the open display of butchered meat. 

At wet markets, vendors sit on the ground and lay out all their vegetables, fruit, meat, and other items. There are live animals like chickens stuffed in wire cages, just waiting for their final moment. 

Because I speak little to no Vietnamese, I was intimidated by markets for the longest time. It took me nine months before I had the gall to walk into one. When I finally did, I was amazed by the dirt-cheap prices and smiling faces of the locals. 

Finding a Home, Despite the Differences

Instead of shuddering when I pass a market, I’m now aware of all my senses and filled with life. Seeing the tropical fruits, fish in buckets, and fresh juice being pressed from sugarcane, I am amazed and appreciative that I live here.

I’ve come to realize that even though some things may bother me, (like the roosters who crow incessantly) there’s nothing I can do to change them. So why be upset about it? Vietnam has taught me how to evolve and adjust, like using toilet paper as earplugs when the roosters keep me up at night.

From Culture Shock to Understanding 

Some things that used to bother me I’ve now come to understand. For example, when a person chews loudly with their mouth open, it means they love the food. Or when people slow down in front of you on their motorbike, it’s because they’re looking for a certain shop.  

People don’t respect lines here, not because they’re flat out rude, but because they come from a culture of scarcity. And even though being on-time is expected, Vietnamese time is almost always 15 minutes behind schedule.

After watching a Vietnamese film called “A Father’s Promise,” I came to realize that cultural differences don’t have to define us. If ‘real-life’ had subtitles, I think I would realize that we all want the same things: love, belonging, companionship, fulfilling relationships, and good food. 

Growing through the Struggle 

Even though there are times when I must fight off regret for coming to Vietnam and deciding to spend a year here, there are other times that I sit back and reflect on how much I’ve grown. 

In the end, it’s not the moments of falling in love with your surroundings that grow you— it’s being so uncomfortable that you die a little inside, and yet, find the strength to keep going. 

You could be surrounded by people who look and think the same as you, and you would feel at ease. But it’s only by stepping outside of those comforts do we ever discover the wealth of the world around us and, most importantly—ourselves.

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Note: Some of this article is written in present-tense since this was written while I was still living in Vietnam. As of May 2020, I no longer live there.