Living Abroad in Vietnam

As westerners, we typically have the advantage when it comes to exchange rates. In Vietnam, for example, I get 16,000 dong for my dollar, and that 16,000 dong can buy me, if I swing it right, a t-shirt, two meals, a beer and half, five hours on the internet, a four hour bus ride, or any number of other things or experiences ranging from useful to completely frivolous. Depending on what you want and how you'e wired, your purchasing power can easily become ten to twenty times what it is in the states. That, Dear Readers, is something like what Superman's muscles experienced when he got to Earth from Krypton. Your flight to Southeast Asia gives you superhuman purchasing power.

Now, you can approach this transformation in a few ways. You could:
A.) Exhibit your power for a few weeks and live like the king you can't afford to be in the states (Superman joins the football team);
B.) Live like a local for a few months and really get the experience (Superman disguises himself as Clark Kent); or
C.) Be a working expat, living cheaply and saving some loot with intermittent elaborate weekend excursions and fancy nights out (Clark Kent dashes into a telephone booth and slips on some stunning blue and red Lycra evening wear).

I have opted for C with the added goal of paying off my college debt (which, in my estimation, is also superhuman). I will be TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) certified in April, and will begin using my powers for good directly afterward. Teaching English in Vietnam is very Superman. I will use my innate English speaking ability to help those without it. Only, unlike Superman, I'll get paid to do it--15 USD an hour in a country whose living wage is around 3 USD a day.

So, if managed correctly, my superhuman purchasing power should not diminish, and I should still be able to pay off my already-incurred western expenses. I am, however, finding there is plenty of bank account kryptonite when you're living abroad. It lurks behind every corner, on most corners, and anywhere from three to seven store fronts on the way from one corner to the next. In fact, it seems likely that the Achilles heal of many bottom lines in Southeast Asia are, like kryptonite, pretty green rocks. My kryptonite, however, has proven to be expensive food. Almost every restaurant I'm initially attracted to weakens my purchasing power advantage.

It's easy to go where we feel most comfortable upon first moving to a new country. It's also easy to make a habit of continuing to go to these places. The problem is that the places that westerners tend to be most comfortable also tend to be the most expensive places.

Saigon has hundreds of restaurants, bars, and stores run by expat westerners like me trying to keep the monetary advantage they arrived with. And while these can be good places to make some friends or get a taste of home, if I'm trying to keep the monetary advantage I arrived with, visits to these comparably expensive establishments can't be habitual. I'm now breaking the habit. It's easy to tell the expensive places right away--they're the places that look expensive. At first glance you might not even be able to tell they're expensive. It's not in us to suspect that 1.25 USD is too much for a beer. But if there is one thing I've learned here, it's that 1.25 USD is too much for a beer. Unless you have your heart set on a place, if you see prices on a menu in dollars, keep walking. They're tricky, those entrepreneurs. One dollar sounds so much smaller than 16,000 dong, and don't they know it. I think I've finally gained the kind of X-Ray Vision that allows me to see past the fancy pants air-conditioned restaurants, and a whole new world (okay, country) of delicious and gloriously cheap food has been opened unto me. I've found that the trick lies in knowing how long I can go eating 7,000 dong rice plates on plastic stools in the street before a 20,000 dong basket of French fries in air conditioning will really do it for me.

Besides food and drink, lodging seemed the other category most likely to hit me where it hurts. When I first arrived I paid 300 USD a month to stay in a spotless room in a guest house with cable, a fridge, a bathroom, air conditioning, laundry service, and two rooftop gardens about a 15 minute walk from the middle of the city. I opted, however, to keep looking for something cheaper. I found it on Craigslist.com, an online classified site very popular with Americans, but not really much of the rest of the world. But I got lucky and moved into a small air-conditioned room with bathroom for 200 USD a month. The house has roof access, which is great for my tan, free WiFi, and cable and utilities are included. It's on the backpacker's road, Bui Vien, which makes it easy to find busy bars and new friends. The couple who posted the listing, a 24 year-old Spaniard and his 23 year-old Vietnamese girlfriend, also lives in the house. We've become friends, and it's nice to have an extra 100 USD a month, but I often miss my little guest house and, most importantly, the woman who cleaned it every day. The mattress takes up almost all of the floor space in my new room, and the walls are yellowed by cigarette smoke (not mine) and a collection of all kinds of boogers (mostly not mine either). It's dusty the moment after it is dusted, and has a secret society of mosquitoes that have apparently vowed to make my skin look like a shower mat no matter what their casualties in the process.

I'm coming to the conclusion that this is an instance in which it may be worthwhile to flex a little monetary muscle. I've found that as cheap as I can be, I'm willing to drop a little dinero for comfortable casa. A room in a guest house usually costs 300-360 USD a month, an extra hundred that I'll be happy to pay for cleanliness (which I now officially believe is a virtue) if I decide that it's worth moving out on my new friends.

The upside to my (very) humble quarters, is that saving a little on room and board, makes it easier to justify a little Vietnam-specific spending. It doesn't get much better than this country when it comes to wardrobe--you can have a tailored silk suit or dress made for 30-60 USD (capes are presumably cheaper). Vietnam is crawling with tailors. Many ready-made clothes can be tailored for free where they're purchased or for a small fee elsewhere. For those of us built like superheroes (I am an Amazon woman, my brother is the Incredible Hulk, My dad has become much like the Blob) these inexpensive tailors are the chance of a lifetime to get clothes that fit properly. I personally expect to have truckloads of jeans made to my exact specifications. I anticipate being stopped at customs and questioned about my intentions for so many pairs of jeans. It's a beautiful dream, I have. And this is the most beautiful part: each pair might cost me 15 USD.

For those of us going for the Clark Kent look, glasses are worth getting in this part of the world. It's hard to find a street in Saigon without a resident optician whose room full of frames ranges from classic to trendy, and unless your prescription is difficult your glasses should be ready within a few hours. The pair I picked out is 40 USD with lenses, while in the states I've paid six times that for lenses alone.

Of course, as any great traveler or (beware the change in superhero) Spiderman fan knows, with great strength comes great responsibility. I need only sit down at a corner café and wait to be approached by a string of young, old, and infirm (some questionably so) beggars and street venders to be reminded of what my dollar could do for someone else, deserving or un. And, of course, for every worthwhile transaction to be made, there are just as many irresponsible ones.

Prostitution in Vietnam is one such ill-advised use for (excuse the pun) both kinds of your dong. The social problems proliferated by contributing to the sex trade is one obvious reason to stay away, but while it may already be a tried and tested industry in Southeast Asia with or without our moral backing, when it comes to genitalia we needn't be reminded of the itchy bumps and yellowish discharge that go along with that kind of trying and testing. Avert.org suggests that 24% of female sex workers in Saigon are HIV positive. So while this is another sector of the Vietnamese economy in which you may be able to get more (uh oh, here it comes) bang for your buck, it's probably a better idea to woo your Lois Lane with some flowers from a street vendor and some good old-fashioned smooth talkin'. It shouldn't be too difficult. Everyone loves a superhero.