In the beginning...

I've recently come to the realisation that I worry too much about the future. To the extent that I barely noticed that in the reality of the here and now, I've moved to Viet Nam.

 I mean, of course I made the decision and I took action to get here, but in a way it feels more like the decision was out of my hands, I just followed the inevitable unravelling of events.I keep thinking back over the past year trying to pin point how or why I ended up here. I have no idea. Maybe I just didn’t want to become one of those people who say they have all of these ‘dreams’ and goals, but never actually do anything about it.  Maybe I’m that scared of getting stuck in another dead end job that I just didn’t want to stop moving long enough to be sucked in. The frustration of being painfully aware of each second that passes, as you’re stuck on a loop serving the same customer, marginally different weight problem. ‘Would you like to go large, sir?’ Of course you would. Soul destroying.

 Somehow all of this stemmed from that post university depression that most students get. The moment when reality hits and you realise we’re in a recession, most people have a degree anyway and you’re heading straight back to that same job you hated in college. You know the one, the one that motivated you to try and better yourself and go to university in the first place? Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with these jobs, some people love them. They come with a certain freedom in being able to go home at the end of the day and genuinely escape. We'll come back to this I'm sure. But for now, a brief rambling written in my first few days in 'Nam...

Day one, I’m at lunch in a Chinese restaurant, first day induction at work to follow, when some Vietnamese guy comes and sits with me. ‘Are you from England?’ ‘Yes, yes I am.’ Turns out the guy spent 5 years studying in Manchester, and now here I am in his city. Small world cliché. After some small talk he offers to show me around the city, we exchange numbers and he returns back to his banker’s dinner date. Work induction was nothing worth noting, just paper signing, everyone seems lovely. Anyway, later that evening I get a text from lunch guy asking if I want to go for dinner and drinks the following night. Being concerned that this sounded a lot like a date, I did what most girls would do, confer with my on-call consulting team. Feedback: 95% probability that this is intended to be a date. Despite this (and with the standard stranger safety warnings) they advised me to go and just make it clear that to me, it was not a date. So with the ‘you’re in a new country, no harm in meeting new people’ attitude I decided to go.

Day two, mission: open a bank account. Definitely took longer than intended. Spent most of the day walking around in search of food as my lack of Vietnamese makes interaction challenging.I eventually admitted defeat at around 4pm and went into a café to get a drink. Obviously, same communication difficulties apply so I went for the point and hope technique. Damn lactose intolerance. This tea was not to be tolerated. Found myself faced with quite the moral dilemma. For the record, you can’t drink around the milk. Ready to give up on life, I got a motorbike taxi and headed to the bank. Best decision ever. Buying a motor bike will be my midlife crisis. Bank account successfully opened, followed by one more motorbike ride and the day is looking up. 

It definitely was a date. Oops. Started out with a traditional northern Vietnamese meal and sufficient mocking of my chopstick skills, then after a few drinks in this pub we moved to a club. My first Asian clubbing experience. You know the theory that if you keep trying beer you’ll eventually like it? 5^th September 2013 – the day the prophecy came to be. Apparently most people aren't too fond of Vietnamese beer, for the equivalent of £1.30, I'm a fan.

Oh yeah, and I moved into a shared dorm today. So far, not so much sharing. Well, apart from the ant population in the bathroom that is.

Day three. So yesterday ended up being pretty expensive, I’m considering giving up drinking in order to conserve funds. Bold move, I know. But it’s a definite money drainer and I’d rather be able to afford trips and such. Wonder how long this will last?

Observed my first class today, ‘kindy’ (little kids) level. They’re adorable. This is going to be hilarious. When showing the kids a picture of a boy on a bike in their books, Collette (teacher) said ‘Now we’re going to listen to what he says’ one kid held the book to his ear and looked confused. Like I said, adorable.

Dorm became more shared as a girl from America and another from China joined me.

Day 4, Sunday. Attempted to go to church, got lost and gave up. Got so stressed out in the heat that every taxi guy on a motor bike that yelled ‘motorbike?’ I took to mean ‘hey, white girl, you are obviously lost/need help/are naive and scam-able – come here!’ and so was met with scowl. To be fair, it usually is what they mean. Anyway, after that failure I gave up and headed back to the room.

More lesson observations in the afternoon, the rain on route was awesome! Bikes riding through knee deep floods, roads closed, people walking bare foot because the odds of shoe survival were slim to none… and the best thing about it all was that come 6pm, the city was back to its usual humid, smoggy self. Not a drowned dog in sight.

Sunday is the new Friday. After a work filled weekend (for them) we headed across the road for drinks. Chilling on plastic chairs with a 30 pence pint in the street? There’s definitely a thing or two we could learn from these pros. Safe to say, my no drinking plan lasted less than 48 hours, anyone surprised?

Day 5, viewed my first house. Loved it. Only problem is it’s an hour and a half walk from work. The agent was trying to convince me to hire a moped from her to travel on! Price for the house started at $400 per month, has just dropped to $180, and I'm pretty sure she’d throw her grandma in if she thought It’d sweeten the deal.

I promise my next entry will be more coherent.