Our Man in Hanoi

A while ago, when my wife rang from work to suggest we spend Saturday night visiting her parents, I stupidly, didn’t concur.

“Awwwww,” I said. “Not Saturday night.  I haven’t been out in weeks and I was thinking about going out for a drink with friends.”

That was all I said.  When I heard the response it provoked I backtracked furiously but it was too late.

The fall-out lasted for days.

At that point we weren’t married and although my parents’ plane tickets were booked and deposits were paid on reception venues, everything was to be cancelled.

The wedding was off.

Later, once I had worked really hard to make it all okay again, I talked about it with a fellow Englishman. He is also married to a Vietnamese woman.

I remember a character in Friends being told there are certain questions which a woman asks where answers are not only set in stone, the immediacy of the response is also important.

“Does this make me look fat?”

“No.”

No look up and down, no consideration, no pause for thought.

My friend told me that when your Vietnamese wife says she wants to visit her family, you reply immediately:

“I’ll start the bike”

On Sunday we were due a visit. Literally as we set off it started to spit with rain.  Within two minutes it was wet enough for us to pull over and put on macs.

By the time we had crossed Westlake it was getting heavy.  I took my life, and marriage in my hands and suggested that perhaps crossing town to visit her Mother during such extreme weather wasn’t worth the risk.

By this time lightning was flashing. Her parents live at the top of a mud road that’s horrific after rain.

The suggestion, however, that I was being deterred by the elements did not go down well.  A roadside heated debated lead to her saying I should return, if I really wanted to, and she would soldier on alone.

That was obviously a non-starter, so I suggested we could wait it out in a coffee shop. Even that delay took some convincing.

In the end the rain slowed and we made it to her family.  Two thirds of the way there the sun came out and we dispensed with our motorbike mac for two.

Maybe marriage is about picking your battles. This is one area, which I now know to be non-negotiable.

The strength, hierarchy and duties that bind a Vietnamese family are as solid as they are fascinating.

Truth be told I am happy and very proud to be part of her Vietnamese family.

I’m new at this game but hopefully I’m learning fast.