Adapting to one’s
environment is as old as evolution. What makes it interesting in another
country is how readily you brag about “adapting” (i.e. “I work well in
‘multicultural’ environments”) or actually admitting to having gone “local.” In
other words, there are a few things foreigners do around here that are clear
indications they’ve taken the go big or go home approach. A local magazine
recently came up with a list, but I think they’ve soft-peddled the “gone
native” behavior. Missing from their list includes:
1. You start dating the
first woman who pays you any amount of attention—regardless of the reason—and
propose to her one month later.
2. When driving a motorbike
(read: “scooter,” my friend; they’re all scooters), you call it a “motorcycle,”
daub silver paint on it and call it “chrome,” and trick it out with ape-hanger
handle bars and a chopped muffler for a more authentic bad ass look and sound.
Which kinda doesn’t jive with the matching cartoon pink pig helmets your
girlfriend insists the two of you wear.
3. You’ve embraced mixing
psychedelic patterns with colours not found in nature, otherwise you’d have to
turn up at work naked because a) you only shop off the rack and b) the one
white “work” shirt you came with went grey after the first wash.
4. While you claim to
“love” Vietnamese food you haven’t actually consumed any since about three
months after you arrived. Delivery for Willy Woo’s Chicken and Waffles is on
your speed dial.
5. And speaking of which
(and not really a sign of going native, but) you still don’t know how to hold
or use chopsticks and it’s embarrassing watching grown adults put a stick in
each hand and attempt to eat by stabbing their food. Which leads to…
6. You prefer to let your
girlfriend feed you. In public. (For women see point #4.)
Hence the video below. It’s for the folks who haven’t adapted, but protest otherwise.
Shit Expats in Hanoi Say: A Parody by Ashley and Anemi
Uh, this video is pretty bang
on. (Guilty, guilty, guilty for “backpackers” and “Lonely Planet” snorts of
derision.) However, Ashley and Anemi’s account of life is way too clean. Down
here in Saigon we’d have a far dirtier and potty-mouthed version of
self-denial. Note the scarves and boots the expat Hanoians all favour. We’d
start by mocking that first.
Anyway, enjoy. We sure did. And then—of course—we ordered
pizza.
