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issue 54 - AsiaLIFE Magazine

issue 54 - AsiaLIFE Magazine

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Dana Filek-Gibson learns to choose her words carefully.<br />

Everyone makes mistakes. If<br />

you are at all like me, this is a<br />

fact of which we do not need<br />

to be reminded, though people<br />

constantly do so as they usher<br />

me out of their house and point<br />

to where I should have left my<br />

shoes. At least once a week, I eat<br />

in public and my chopsticks fall<br />

to the plate, criss-crossing each<br />

other in some rude formation.<br />

Only after I sigh and say, “Well,<br />

fingers crossed, you know?” do<br />

I realise the gesture I'm making<br />

is lewd and inappropriate. On<br />

average, I am offensive at least<br />

four times a day.<br />

This is nothing to be proud<br />

of. While I am grateful to those<br />

who excuse my cultural faux<br />

pas, many of us expats strive<br />

to blend in as best we can. Our<br />

credibility as local residents is<br />

weakened when we present<br />

a gift unwrapped or beckon<br />

someone much older than us<br />

with an “em oi!” Getting the<br />

hang of local culture can be<br />

tedious. Just when you think<br />

you're fitting in, you accept<br />

your change one-handed and<br />

the salesperson before you rolls<br />

her eyes, unimpressed.<br />

For the most part, Annie had<br />

it figured out. In the nearly two<br />

years she lived in Vietnam, my<br />

friend and fellow teacher mastered<br />

most of the ins and outs<br />

every foreigner must learn. She<br />

drank beer with ice, had a decent<br />

knowledge of Saigon news,<br />

and use chopsticks like a local.<br />

In the end, after a few mishaps<br />

with the neighbourhood xe om<br />

drivers, she even gave in and<br />

got a motorbike. Annie had become<br />

as comfortable in Vietnam<br />

as she was in her home country<br />

— most of the time, anyway.<br />

Later, I will tell Annie,<br />

“It could have happened to<br />

anyone.” But right now, sitting<br />

across from each other on the<br />

shaded veranda of a coffee shop<br />

and nursing cups of ca phe sua<br />

da, I watch her fingers trace the<br />

edge of her glass. She looks at<br />

me, a grave expression on her<br />

face.<br />

“I did something bad.”<br />

“What?” I ask.<br />

Before she can answer, a<br />

nervous laugh escapes. It is not<br />

often that I see Annie flustered.<br />

“You know the name ...” There<br />

is a deliberate pause here. She<br />

considers the coming word: “...<br />

Hiep?”<br />

I nod. “I have a Hiep in<br />

class.”<br />

Her eyes go wide. “How do<br />

you say it?”<br />

In my best Vietnamese I<br />

repeat the word, even spell it<br />

on a serviette lying on the table.<br />

Annie exhales and fidgets in her<br />

seat, smoothing the wrinkles<br />

from her dress. “Apparently,<br />

I've been saying it wrong.”<br />

“How have you been saying<br />

it?” I ask.<br />

Several minutes and a great<br />

deal of coaxing later, an explanation<br />

arrives. For months, my<br />

friend has inadvertently been<br />

calling her student 'rape’. The<br />

pupil, too polite to correct her,<br />

only recently decided to speak<br />

up.<br />

Through a fit of giggles, I reassure<br />

her. But Annie continues,<br />

mortified, “And then there's<br />

this other student.” Turns out<br />

Ms Loan, too, had been meaning<br />

to say something. During<br />

lessons, Annie does not call<br />

Loan's name but rather a swear<br />

word, which she repeats loudly<br />

and often.<br />

Eventually, my laughter<br />

subsides and I sear this moment<br />

into my memory, so my students<br />

might be spared the same<br />

experience.<br />

88 asialife HCMC

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