Cultural Full House

So many of you know that in Vietnam, I live with a host family consisting of a mother (Nhan), her 15 year old son (Kien), and her cousin who sometimes comes to visit (uncle). Life has been great in our homey little 18^th floor apartment on Hoang Dao Thuy Street, but many times things have been so ridiculous and bizarre that I feel as if I’m living in a real-life sitcom.

Take last night for example. But first, a background story: Nhan (my host mother) loves hosting exchange students and for the past month has been looking for someone to fill my room since I leave at the end of April. I guess with a small family of two, it’s always nice to add another person into the mix. So last week, she filled the room with a boy from Korea who is running a cell phone business in Vietnam.  The boy asked to move in a little earlier, so for the time being he is staying in the spare bedroom until I move out. The boy does not speak anything but Korean, Nhan speaks only English and Vietnamese, uncle who visits every couple of weekends does not speak anything but Vietnamese, I speak English, basic Vietnamese, Urdu/ Hindi, and French (the latter two are irrelevant in this case :P), and Kien speaks a bit of Korean, fluent Vietnamese, and intermediate English, so he translates for us. I bet you can imagine how much of a riot dinner must have been.

Anyways, last night after Nhan, Kien, uncle, and I had finished dinner, the Korean boy returned home and insisted to cook dinner for all of us. Nhan didn’t understand this until Kien translated it after the boy had already begun preparing food. Nhan is not a fan of Korean food, so she jumped out of her chair like it was on fire, ran to the Korean boy, and attempted to explain that we did not want any Korean food because we just ate dinner. Her way of using charades to explain the situation was just about the funniest thing I’ve seen all week; it involved flaring hands absurd gestures, and speaking slow English to the Korean boy who did not understand a word of it (I don’t understand why, when we share a language barrier with someone, we speak to them slowly in our native language in hopes that it will help them understand. It just doesn’t make any sense, but I’m definitely guilty of this too!). Anyways, the Korean boy thought Nhan was feeling sick, so he got her some hot water and made her sit back down, while Kien, uncle, and I just stared with confused looks on our faces.

In the end, the Korean boy ended up making enough food for all of us, which I thought was pretty delicious! So good that even Nhan tried some and enjoyed it despite being pretty full from dinner (and not liking Korean food). Being in Vietnam has allowed me to become exposed to many different cultures as I have had several opportunities to travel and meet people from all over South East Asia, and even other parts of the world (other expats, travelers, and volunteers). I’ve learned so much and I definitely want to continue exploring this beautiful planet with so many languages, foods, cultures, and hidden treasures!

This was just one of the many shenanigans that have happened at home, and I can imagine them to only increase with the new house dynamic! One thing is for sure though - I am definitely going to miss every minute of living in our homey little 18^th floor apartment on Hoang Dao Thuy Street.