Being an expat can feel very much like being middle aged
Posted: February 14, 2011 Filed under: expats, Reflections | Tags: expat, Hanoi, middle aged, old 4 Comments »There’s barely an hour of the 18 I spend awake when I am not online in some way.
That said despite being plugged in to the internet in all its varieties – email, news, blogs, Facebook, Twitter – I still manage to miss out on a great deal that has otherwise seeped into whole countries’ consciousness.
At some point people who you have only vaguely heard of become international superstars. It wasn’t so long ago that having realised how often I was hearing the name Lady GaGa I felt compelled to look her up on YouTube and actually hear a song. For the first time.
When my online iTunes store stopped working it didn’t really bother me. There was no new music I was excited to download.
Of course it’s easy to blame my inability to keep up with modern culture on geography when, two months shy of my 40th birthday, it’s just as likely to be age. It’s remarkable how often I confuse the two.
I make excuses not to visit the more fashionable bars in Hanoi based on my expat whines of the same old faces and conversations. But I wonder if the unvoiced excuses are more valid – crowds, lack of comfort and generally feeling ill-at-ease with the company. Not to mention my inability to be as accepting as I once was.
How do they see me?
Am I old now?
Who is that idiot?
What’s he doing now?
Just how many drinks will it take for me to enjoy this?
How much will that hurt in the morning?
Recently in a taxi from Noi Bai I found myself chatting with the driver in my very limited Vietnamese. Just joking around and me using the stock phrases that I know will make him laugh and break the ice. It turned the airport-run chore into a fun 45 minutes.
I used to chat like this everyday when I took a xe om to work. I used to love it.
Being a married man, to a local, living in our own house, in an expat area, I’m aware I now have layers and layers of insulation.
Insulation is what the middle aged and the expat go in search of. Insulation against crime, real and imagined, against embarrassment, against a perceived waste of our time, against the unforeseen in all its forms.
I’m a nine to five worker these days in an office where the common language is English. In the evenings we mostly stay in. My wife sorts out “Vietnamese things”.
Insulated and out of touch.
How much is old and how much is expat?
The supposed superiority of foreigners
Posted: November 27, 2010 Filed under: change, expats, Hanoi, Reflections | Tags: expat, ngos, reflections, volunteers, vso 11 Comments »“The only way forward in a cross-relationship is to be accepting and to alter one’s mindset so as to allow for a harmonious relationship. … the superiority complex that so often accompanies the mindset of foreigners living in developing countries is a recipe for more than just disaster.”
The above was from an article on dating Vietnamese in the latest addition of The Word Hanoi not, as you might expect, from some NGO handbook.
The whole notion of assumed superiority has been knocking around my head for sometime. Foreigners over locals. Expat over expat.
First off I am guilty of all of this. Maybe more guilty than most. Perhaps exceptionally guilty.
I came here initially as a VSO volunteer and when you’re here to teach you automatically assume superiority. In Vietnam it’s a fault that is almost encouraged by the politeness of local people who don’t like to challenge the wisdom of westerners.
I mentioned in my recent wedding speech that I had never lost so many arguments than in the time since I met my wife. That threw me for a while. Then I realised that I must have been wrong more times than I care to think about at work in Vietnam. But I kept on making the mistakes.
I do recall how it felt, however, when new volunteers arrived. Bushy tailed, bright-eyed and full of good intentions they’d insist on trying to implement assorted ideas that I knew just weren’t suitable. Mostly I knew because I’d seen them fail before. I was irritated while Vietnamese staff indulged the foreigners one more time.
The truth is while we knew our subjects we didn’t know Vietnam. How could we and yet we also didn’t know enough to question our own superiority.
Perhaps because of isolation perhaps because of poverty, most likely because of a desire for a little bit of hustle in an environment that doesn’t always make it easy, Vietnam is full of workarounds and evolved solutions.
The traffic is a fine example. At first glance it’s anarchy but later you learn the unofficial rules.
You can’t watch everything so just worry about what’s in front of you. Stay central unless you’re turning. If someone is in your way – peep first then break. Be aware that a teenage moron could zig or zag in front of you at any time, so drive slow and be cautious enough for both of you.
How do you even start to teach that to a non-native traffic planner?
I see so when it’s summer they drive and stop at lights only on the shady parts of the road.
How do you tackle the anarchy and replace these evolved habits with something that still works? There are too many vehicles and not enough roads and yet the system almost, if not quite, works. I’m not sure a textbook traffic system could replace it – not without huge investment and massive education, neither of which Vietnam can afford.
Our ways of working might just be better but that doesn’t mean they’ll work here.
The expat superiority extends to the pages of the New Hanoian. Just why do we feel we have the expertise to lecture on service? Is it right to insist that a café reaches some western ideal when we aren’t even in the west?
You want your waitress to speak better English? How about paying 50% more for your meal and you can sponsor her through English classes? No? Thought not. The profits margins in most Vietnamese businesses just aren’t built for such investment.
What percentage of Vietnamese fluent in English do you think spent all those years studying in order to bring coffee to foreigners?
But expat superiority goes beyond how we react to Vietnamese. We constantly snipe at each other too.
Broadly speaking it’s about how we choose to live. Are our lives too Vietnamese? Not Vietnamese enough?
I can’t believe she employs a cook. I can’t believe they don’t have a maid. He takes their child on his motorbike. She has an SUV and a driver. I’ve never seen them eat Vietnamese food. Not ever. He pays 100,000 for a pizza when pho across the road is only…
Sometimes it seems we are all stuck between the ideals of what we think our life and mindset should be in Vietnam.
Social media exasperates this. On platforms like Twitter we get to surround ourselves with likeminds and we sound off – backing up our prejudices and everyone else’s too.
Like I said, I’m guilty. Probably way more than most and I’m trying to do something about it.
Back in the UK I can recall competitiveness in terms of who owns what, who was the most successful, who had the best record collection etc
That’s all stripped away in expat land. Instead we concentrate on trying to claim moral superiority. In the meantime we continue the ugly habit of assuming superiority over local people.
There’s a fine line between naïveté and racism.
Social, work and personal challenges have seen my ego dismantled this year. I had it coming I think. Learning how Vietnam works and even the mechanics of expat land will take a while.
It feels like I need to knock it all down in order to build something better.
Consider it an early resolution for 2011.
Just how hard is it to live in Hanoi (or HCMC)?
Posted: November 15, 2010 Filed under: Hanoi, Reflections | Tags: expat, Hanoi 6 Comments »I keep reading expat tales of how living in Hanoi is hard.
But if so, why? What is hard and what are we missing out on?
Usually such a question, in expat company, is a trigger for food nostalgia except increasingly there is nothing you can’t find here. Of course not everything is going to be just how you had it served back home – but you can find it. In fact the food options here are way wider than in my own home city.
Strangely there are tasks that seemed like chores back home that now seem like luxury. A specific one is driving a car to a supermarket and loading up with food for the week.
Instead now I shop per meal. Sometimes three times a day for breakfast, lunch and dinner. A single bag of shopping each time, hooked onto the bike for the return journey.
I certainly eat fresher now.
Then again to be honest, I can’t recall the last time I did prepare three meals. The option to eat out can be cheaper than cooking yourself. Even if dining at some fairly swanky restaurants.
Compare that to the last time I lived in the UK when two of us together earned 50,000 GBP a year and could barely afford to eat out once a fortnight.
We get pretty lazy here. I’ve know people who stand firm against the idea of help but most will happily pay to outsource domestic chores. My dishes are done, my floors dusted and my clothes washed and ironed. Personally I quite like to cook but I know of many people who have their meals waiting on the table when they return from work.
For families, how about a nanny too? Again, I’m not knocking it. I’ve seen couples have kids without breaking stride nor changing their lifestyle. Stay out partying till all hours and let Nanny Nguyen take the strain. Likewise I’ve also heard expat mothers boast of their green credentials. No disposable nappies!
But they’re not the ones doing all the washing.
But what of those usual Hanoi complaints?
Pollution? Strangely this one seems quite new. When I last lived here (2004 – 2007) it wasn’t what people objected to and yet now it is. Did it get that much worse? Well apparently it is bad although, as an old flatmate pointed out – you don’t get black snot syndrome here like you doing in London (and Bangkok for that matter). I’ve never quite worked out why that is.
But fair’s fair – I have suffered my share of headaches here, I even went through a bout of dizziness. Either or both could be blamed on the air quality but, then again, sometimes the symptoms are tailored to the circumstances. You live in a dirty city and you don’t feel well – blame the dirty city. I’ve had headaches in the countryside before.
Likewise, the traffic. I think about this a lot. It’s not so much busy (compared to say a non-moving gridlocked set of cars as seen in many western cities) as simply anarchic. I commute across town twice a week and it normally takes me half an hour in heavy traffic. I can’t imagine it being quicker back home. However being on the back of the bike means you are more likely to be irritated by heat and noise. It can be very stressful.
Where I think it does get harder is when kids come into play. I’ve seen kids used as a justification for all those additional luxuries that we turned our nose up at when we were new “I can live for a dollar a day” arrivals.
The SUV, the gated community, the international school. Not to mention the cost of a family healthcare package. Of course, come here on a “expat package” and it’s all taken care of.
But the biggest problem is surely a lack of green space for kids to run around on – a garden or even a park where you can be sure there aren’t used needles. The international schools here don’t just provide an education – they provide room to exercise. Another reason why they are so expensive.
As a Brit, used to our wonderful National Health Service, paying for healthcare is scary. It’s different for other western nations where even international clinics can seem an altogether cheaper bet.
For the independent expat work can also be more transient. With some employers or clients whether or not you’ll get your money can be a cause for concern. Not to mention that generally promises, specifically work related ones, appear to be worth less here.
However, in the end it seems that it’s all a trade off. In fact, what is cheap and what is expensive are almost reversed.
One other hand here there are maids, restaurants, cheap rent and high living on the other, back home, there is education, healthcare and open spaces – something I had always previously taken for granted.
But we are forgetting that here there is also excitement and colour. Does that always last?
Finally it’s worth pointing out that choice itself is a luxury. We don’t have to choose one or the other …back home till the kids are schooled and then retire in Vietnam.
Then again, sometimes I think it’s the choice that gets us down. Perhaps if we’d never known that we could leave our home towns then we’d never know we could blame where we live for every bad day?
If Vietnam isn’t easy then I’m not sure it’s so much harder than anywhere else.
Not for wealthy expats at any rate.
The Sustainable Expat
Posted: March 5, 2010 Filed under: expats, Reflections | Tags: expat, Hanoi 2 Comments »
Having spent almost four out of the last five years volunteering it’s very easy to kid yourself that you don’t need much money to get by.
Each month you’re handed a living allowance. It just and so covers the basics and you tell yourself that the basics are all you need.
But then you take a holiday and you think – well, my volunteering organisation shouldn’t have to cover my little luxuries – so you’re happy to put your hand in your pocket.
The same goes for internet. The same goes for an extra flight home. The same goes for a new laptop when the old one gets so choked in African mud that it no longer functions.
Then, when you’re no longer tied to a volunteer organisation and you settle in a place like Hanoi, you think once more, that you can live cheaply.
But suddenly, all those extras that were previously covered are now your responsibility. Healthcare being a prime example.
Having got engaged in the future there might be children. Then what about education? An international standard education comes at an international price.
We’re getting married in the autum. Next weekend we are moving into a new house. A two-bedroom place in expat land.
It all costs money and yet I have to be sustainable now. A living allowance level wage simply doesn’t cover all the costs.
None of this is a complaint. Just a statement of fact. All those extras, that I dug into savings to cover, must now be covered by a regular wage. Month by month.
What’s more, that regular wage must come from a job that has a work permit attached.
In getting engaged to a Hanoian I have been overwhelmed by the incredible care and kindness I am shown. In many way it would be easy to take advantage.
But it does come at a price. Although it’s me that is imposing it.
Nothing has ever been said but I know that it’s time to step up. I will be the primary provider.
Strangely, I am relishing the responsibility.
So quitting my job this week might seem somewhat daft. But working as an editor with hours regularly being cut at the drop of a hat is no way to provide for a family.
In the meantime there are some bits and pieces of work that have me back at living allowance level. There are promises of more and even the promise of a full time position which would pay enough for me to meet responsibilites and even save a little money too.
But in the meantime I’m digging, once more, into savings to cover all outgoings.
It’s strange that after all these years of wandering, what I yearn for most is to be settled.
The right job will be the last step.
* Pic is of new house.
The end of first chapter of the sequel
Posted: December 16, 2009 Filed under: change, Hanoi, Reflections, work | Tags: christmas, december, expat, Hanoi, work 6 Comments »
I’ve always found trips to and from Hanoi’s Noi Bai airport especially poignant.
I’ve a hunch that it’s because you’re travelling by car – something I so rarely do here. Instead of being in the middle of the motorbike crush you’re behind glass in an air-conned bubble. You are no longer part of the view.
While the musical accompaniment to most trips is the normal icky Vinapop there always seems to be something emotive playing just as I leave Hanoi. I find myself once again looking afresh on Hanoi and thinking just how remarkable it is.
It seems strange to be returning home for Christmas after under four months in Hanoi. It dawns on me that during this time I haven’t once set foot out of the city – nor had the desire to. I’ve been lucky that the weather has cooled. Perhaps if it had been summer I’d have fled to the coast or the mountains but instead I’ve been happy just to enjoy it.
Putting aside just how lucky I feel to live in such an incredible place, my time since my return has been beautifully unremarkable. I’ve settled. I’ve the apartment, the motorbike, the job. I’ve even met someone special.
Alongside that there has been a dawning that settling means working to safeguard what you have. It means earning enough money so it continues to be sustainable. This isn’t a volunteer post. It’s not a backpacking trip. This is life. Financially I can’t supplement it. Legally I can’t be in fear of having to leave it.
A return to journalism has worked well and freelance work has fallen at my feet without having to chase it. As it stands I’d like to reach a point where freelancing will soon cover the rent and my day job cash is then left for a more comfortable existence. Not that I am currently struggling too much.
Ultimately though I’d still like a “proper” job. I’d love to be a press officer for a local NGO. But my days of “stipends” and “volunteer allowances” are over. Recently an NGO contacted me offering me paid work. I said yes. Later they contacted me again suggesting I could volunteer instead. This time I said no.
There are no doubts that Vietnam is changing with me. Maybe this is “get serious” time for both of us. Neither of us are as naive as we once were . Perhaps though we both need to be careful how much we change.
Because there are days when I still well up here. The slightest thing can trigger it. I’ll catch myself remembering where I am and how incredibly lucky I feel to live in amongst this city. The lip quivers and the tears flow. It’s down to pure happiness and being humbled by just how good life can be.
Because hatching plans for my return, while still in Cameroon, I lay under my mosquito net at nights and tried to imagine what my life could and should be like here.
If I am honest it is already outstripping my hopes. If I now want more, it’s not about ugly ambition or greed. I hope. It’s about guaranteeing my future here.
I’m still in love with this city and this country. I think we’ve both lost a little bit of innocence but perhaps that needed to happen.
Just maybe, at 38, I am finally growing up. In simply being here I have found something worth working for. And I am very very happy.
Happy Christmas people.
*Pics taken from a Hanoi at Christmas photos walk. Set here.
