...Because if you're not in Asia, you're in yesterday


Sunday, April 4, 2010

elephants in the room

I would like to share a little about Vietnamese culture with you all. Because it often seems like everyone around is one big family, there is a lot of openess about things that I would deem private. For example, if there is any kind of 'elephant in the room' (not literally, I'm in the city, don't start any rumors), it is said outloud.

So, if your face has something on it, like a cyst (for example, the one on my face), someone might point to it and say, "Oh my god, that is so ugly (pretty much word for word translation)." Or if your face happens to break out a smidge ( don't tell Erica I told you this), someone might bring over some face cream and mime how to rub it on your face.

It's an interesting concept. Kind of embarassing sometimes. And I admit, sometimes kind of a relief to have everything out in the open. If there are single men around, no time is wasted in awkwardness, we are asked straight away, "Husband? You want this husband? He is a good man." In fact, most people seem to want to help me out of my single situation. Very kind of them to help.

I am learning to accept the things that they don't mind asking. In the beginning, if someone asked my age, a bystander might hit them and tell them that it's rude to ask an American that. I tell them that it's fine. I DO NOT MIND that question. They don't hesitate to ask other questions such as, "What is your salary per month?" "How much is your rent?" "Why are you fat?" "How long do you wait until you kiss a boy, one hour? (curse American movies)(That's another story though) "How much do you weigh?"

One of my favorite people in this country is Yen (I've been spelling her name wrong for months and she never corrected me. But her email address has YEN in it, and I was confused. She doesn't speak English, but she is an amazing communicator. I canNOT tell you how wonderful it feels to go spend time with her and feel like we're communicating! The other day I brought my dinner into her shop and sat down. She told me that the firework festival (or competition, i didn't say I understood everything) in Da Nang City was on tv. So we watched the fireworks with classical music in the background.

So, in this seemingly unrelated story, I was hanging out with Yen a while ago and she asked me my weight in kilos. And I answered honestly, I don't know my weight in kilos. So, we're watching fireworks and she tells me that she has the conversion and she proceeds to tell me my weight in kilos. Then she converts her weight into pounds. She announces that she weighs 66 pounds. I shake my head and tell her that is not correct. And we laugh and argue for another hour and she just won't believe me when I say she doesn't weight 66 pounds! She had people come over and check the math. The math was correct, but the conversion was not. It was hilarious.

5 comments:

Laura Joy said...

I wonder how you are going to be when you come back to the states! I can see it as a blessing and a curse if you adapt to their open brutal honesty. :)

I miss you friend.

Andrea said...

As always, your blog makes me laugh. And I promise not to tell Erica what you post. ;)

Anonymous said...

speaking of weight. I was looking at your photos and you look like you've lost a ton. That's what I think anyway.

That long hair throws me every time! I just keep forgetting!
-Erin

Deanna said...

HA! Oh, well-meaning matchmakers, how I loathe ya'll.....

momma c said...

So if their conversion to #s was 40-50# light, was their # conversion to kilos that much higher? Tooo fat! Hilarious. I agree with Erin, you look great in the pictures.