Just today I discovered something that I’m going to have to work very hard on before my return to the States. That or get myself in a lot of trouble and learn the hard way once I’m back.
Consider the following two facts:
- Most people in Saigon can’t understand a full sentence that I say anyway. And if I want to make it impossible for anyone to understand anything, I just speak a little faster and it works like a charm. Even the best English speakers here can’t really understand fast Busbee speak. Throw in a little Chicago slang and they’re completely excluded.
- Most people in Saigon aren’t too worried about politeness/offensiveness themselves
Given these things, I’ve become quite careless about saying really rude things to/about people right in front of their faces. This is in part due to the fact that I spend most of my time with a woman who is quite skilled in this area (see Da Lat post for details).
Some example that come to mind:
When a woman in the market showed us an amount of money that we owed her as opposed to saying it: “Oh, she thinks she’s going to pay us for buying these mangos.” — my roommie
Or to various motorbike drivers: “Thanks a lot, mate, I was going to turn right there but you just do what you need to do. Don’t worry about me!” –my roommie
Or on the tennis court when most people would kindly kick your tennis ball your way after it’s rolled into their court: “DON’T WORRY MATE, DON’T WORRY, please don’t move a muscle. I’ve got it. Wouldn’t want you to have to move to return our ball.” –my roommie
This kind of thing.
And it’s usually perfectly fine because nobody can understand a damn word we say anyway.
So today we were at the tailor’s and I was waiting while Ali tried on some clothes, and I couldn’t stop staring at these two women who were in there. We were in this shwanky part of town, where all the rich expats go (and therefore I generally steer clear). And in my time here I’ve gotten a few little glimpses into a little subculture of expat wives of businessmen whose companies have stationed them here. And I was getting one of those glimpses today and just couldn’t stop staring. It was such a bizarre kind of culture shock/flashback to places I’ve been before. Just two women in their 40s with carefully fixed hair and makeup and Ann Taylor clothes having a little chat about where they were going to eat lunch. Really quite a basic scene, and I was completely dumbfounded and curious about what their lives are like in a city like this. No value judgments, just completely intrigued.Then the women left the room.
So Ali came and joined me on the bench. We’re sitting and waiting, and one of the women returns to the room. Without even thinking, I blatantly point my finger and start a sentence (loudly) with “SO THIS WOMAN . . . ” at which point the woman looks up and Ali and I both drop our jaws in stunned silence at how fabulously rude that just was. Here is a perfectly nice woman who does understand my language perfectly and she does have perfectly good ears. YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT. I wasn’t going to say anything mean. I was just going to talk about someone, loudly, in front of them.
Operation Return to Good Southern Manners starts now.
