"I'm Not a Taxi"
And other things I would have understood if I had learned Vietnamese.
I’ve been going back and forth on which language barrier story to share here. After almost 13 years abroad, always in a country that doesn’t natively speak English, I’ve had my fair shares of mis (or non-existing) communications, uncomfortable moments, and times I’ve made a complete ass out of myself.
Finally, I decided on one that sheds light on how dumb Raf and I can both be but also on just how wonderful living in Vietnam was.
A few snippets of moments I’m skipping over this week:
The time I confidently told people I work with that I love to “eat” at parties in Ecuador, misunderstanding comer vs. comerse, which means to fuck. Yep.
The uncountable number of times I couldn’t get a taxi in South Korea because I still to this day can’t correctly pronounce “Guri,” the city I lived in.
The time, just a few weeks ago, I choose silence over addressing the fact that my cotton panties provided at my laser hair removal session snapped, leaving me 100% naked. I had on an eye mask to protect from the laser and wasn’t totally sure I was indeed boldly spread eagle until the end of the appointment. For 20 minutes I practiced in my head how to ask, “Am I naked?” in Italian but couldn’t figure it out…so I just ignored it.
The time I about peed my pants laughing as Raf apparently agreed to get his ears, nose, and cheeks waxed while getting his haircut in Turkey. He obviously doesn’t find this memory as hilarious as I do.
Rewind with me a few years ago back to when Raf, Bandido, and I called Vietnam home. At this point we had been in the country for 2 years and, admittedly, didn’t speak much but the very basics in Vietnamese.
We were living in Da Nang at the time but had popped over to An Bang Beach to get souvlaki from Blu Station (iykyk) with a friend. He was staying in Hoi An for the day but we were heading back to Da Nang. I can’t remember why we didn’t have our bike with us and needed to call a Grab to get home (SE Asia’s Uber) but we did.
A few minutes later the app showed our car parked out front. We left the restaurant, saw a guy lounging in the driver’s seat, waved, and hopped in. I tend to get car sick so I chose the front seat, with Raf in the back.
The guy slowly put his seat up and asked us something. To me, it sounded like, “Where are you going?” in Vietnamese. It’s not uncommon for the driver’s to confirm your address. Raf and I were in the middle of a conversation when we got in the car so quickly picked up where we left off.
The driver started the car, heading in the direction of home. A few times he asked our address and a few times I told him, letting him know that once we got into Da Nang I could give him directions or could put it into his GPS, whichever he preferred. It also wasn’t uncommon for driver’s not to use the Grab app to navigate but I did find it strange (and slightly annoying) how often he asked for confirmation.
At this point, he gets on the phone with someone while Raf and I continue to chat.
We navigate to our house no problem, where we hop out of the car, and give him our friendliest, cảm ơn. He quickly started to fret, telling us we owed him money. I had my card attached to the app and had chosen that method of payment so as walking away, I told him in broken Vietnamese that I paid in the app.
At this point he got out of the car conveying “no app, no app.” I rolled my eyes as I opened the app, ready to show the receipt stating that I already had been charged.
Which is when I realized that our driver was still waiting for us in An Bang. Yikes.
I went from being a brat to being apologetic really, really quickly. But also a little shocked how this all worked out. Luckily we had cash and the guy only charged us what a typical Grab costs, with us tossing on top the “we’re idiots” tax.
Imagine sitting in your car, seat leaned back scrolling on your phone, when 2 people hop in with you and when you probably say, “what the hell are you doing?” they respond with their address without a care in the world. As you countlessly tell them, “I’m not a taxi,” they again, smile and say an address.
I think about this guy often and how he just rolled with it. What I wouldn’t give to have been able to understand his conversation when he called his friend to tell him he was reverse kidnapped.
In most other countries in the world, I doubt this would have ended as smoothly as it did, with us getting a stress-free ride home.
While knowing the language certainly would have helped us to avoid the whole thing and get in the right taxi, I do know that the language isn’t the only thing to blame in our little snafu.
Next week I’ll wrap up this month on language learning with some of my biggest tips/apps/things to avoid when learning another language. Until then!
xx,
Kat
😂😂😂