Showing Up: A Vietnamese Love Language

I haven’t published a blog post in a few months - I know. These last few months have been an incredible whirlwind of a blur: a lot of travel, teaching, coaching sessions, soccer, the holidays…

Taking the time to sit down to write has always been hard for me. If I do have a few hours to myself, I’m typically lesson planning or napping. But not writing. Before I came to Vietnam, I brought a bunch of Moleskin journals with the intention of filling every last page with my thoughts, reflections, hardships, anxieties, descriptions of Vietnam, yada yada introspective yada. I tend to think about my experience often, especially when I’m alone riding my Honda Super Cub. Some of these thoughts are short-lived, and others are not entirely coherent or worth writing home about. I have enjoyed catching up with people on the phone and sharing this experience that way. But trying to clearly articulate nuanced aspects of my life during this Fulbright, especially in written form, feels intimidating.

I finally did have the urge over these last few days to reflect on something I have been thinking about for some time. Coincidentally, last week was Valentine’s Day, a holiday that actually isn’t popular in Vietnam. I used last week’s class as an opportunity to teach students not just about Valentine’s Day around the world, but about love languages.

“Love Languages,” I told my class, “are ways in which we show love and affection to people in our lives.” Then, I demonstrated what each of the five Love Languages entailed (I think I modified/stole these definitions from TEDx):

Words of Affirmation: You like hearing precisely what others appreciate or admire about you.

• My example: "You played badminton really well today!"

Acts of Service: Some of us feel most loved when others lend a helping hand or do something kind for us.

• My example: A friend picking you up cháo (Vietnamese porridge) when you're sick

Gift Giving: Receiving a specific thing that helps them feel special.

• My example: Buying a friend milk tea because that's their favorite drink.

Quality Time: Spending time with someone so you can connect with them.

• My example: Playing cards with your family.

Physical Touch: Receiving physical touch from a friend or loved one.

• My example: A slap on the shoulder; Vietnamese people do this to their close friends, especially when they’re roasting or laughing with/at each other.

I asked each of my classes in 10^th grade, “What is your top love language?” Each class had very different answers. The majority in some classes was Quality Time or Physical Touch. Other classes had Gift Giving as theirs. None of my classes had Words of Affirmation as their top Love Language. I’m not totally surprised by that.

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Whenever my family would go to another Vietnamese person’s house, we would stop by Costco or another grocery store on the way to pick up something for them. Cookies in a tin can, fruit (in a box, not just by itself), a single bottle of wine. Then we would drive, show up to the house, and hand the Vietnamese hosts that thing as soon as we got in the door. Maybe we would put a bow on that thing. If we had time and the forethought.

How could I have known, all those years ago, that this was an expectation, an unspoken cultural habit, in Vietnam? I only realized this was actually a thing when I had to start doing this myself whenever someone would invite me to their house or family gathering. And no, I never had the forethought to buy a bow ahead of time. I am coming straight from the store, just like my family.

Cao Lãnh, where I am based, is small. “Cao Lãnh là nhỏ xíu như cọng hủ tíu,” says my host representative, Cô Chau. That means Cao Lãnh is as tiny as a noodle stall. But like every small town, you basically have to be from there to navigate and know where to find what you need. You can’t find much about it online. It’s funny how that works - the best things to do in a large, frenetic city are at your own fingertips. Because I’m not from this town, will only be here for a few more months, AND speak limited Vietnamese, I often rely on and engage with my town through the eyes and hospitality of my teacher-colleague friends and my students.

Valentine’s Day with Cô Chau and Cô Nhung - two of my favorite teachers at my school.

When I was sick with COVID, a teacher let me stay at his house for nearly a week. He brought me food and even cooked for me. Teachers brought herbs to help me recover faster. I fondly remember sitting outside of my school after I had recovered with Cô Chau, waiting for a shuttle car to pick me up to go to Saigon for the weekend; she bought my ticket and arranged for the bus company to pick me up.

Before I got my motorbike, I couldn’t go anywhere. Cao Lãnh is not a bike-friendly or walkable city. It’s customary to hop on the back of your friend’s motorbike if you don’t have one. Teachers and students took me around when I first came to Cao Lãnh. Even now, I still get rides from people because it’s easier to go to certain places, especially when I don’t know where everything is.

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My teacher colleagues are busy. They have full teaching schedules during the morning, typically followed by extra classes at learning centers or English department meetings or projects for the province’s education department. I can’t always count to see them outside of school, but I can depend on them to invite me spontaneously to coffee or a meal. When they have time, they usually ask me to do something. Whether it’s a last-minute New Year’s Day party of a former student’s family, bringing me THE RIPEST MANGOS I HAVE EVER HAD IN MY LIFE or inviting me to go to a café to watch Vietnam play football against Indonesia. Whenever I go to Saigon, I ask my fellow teachers to call the bus company to reserve a ticket for me (one time I tried to do this myself and I didn’t understand when the shuttle would pick me up; I nearly missed the bus leaving Cao Lãnh).

I sometimes walk the colleagues I’m close with to their classes if I happen to be at school and have a free period; on a few occasions, I’ve ended up helping to teach their class after they’ve revealed, AS WE ARE WALKING TO THEIR CLASS, that they forgot to make a lesson plan for that class. It’s truly a funny moment when they tell me. We both share an abrupt, nearly hysterical laugh together for a few moments. When we get to the class, my colleague starts with a warm-up, and I sit in the back so I can have a few minutes to think, on the spot, about what the next activity could be. Somehow we always fill up the 45 minutes with games and unique exercises, riffing off of each other. “I’ve never tagged team a class until today!” Cô Chau told me after a successful and unplanned class we co-taught.

My students are also so busy. I don’t get to hang with them after class very often, even though I live on campus in the dorms alongside many students. Students barely have time to participate in their own student-run clubs; being at a gifted high school means you’re constantly studying or trying to compete in contests or projects. As Cô Chau told me early on, “Students are children.” Sometimes they forget about a scheduled meeting with me, or they (understandably) have to cancel in order to study for a test. Or, they want to hang out with their friends. But several students often show up for me in the most generous ways - picking me up when I ran out of gas (this happened once, and I promise never again!). Buying me food or avocado smoothies because they’re already off-campus and they insist. Translating for me so I can communicate with other students who don’t speak English as well. Again, I can’t always count on students for the company during meals or after-school activities but I can rely on them if I really need something. And I’m really happy whenever they can make time for me.

Showing up in my experience here in Vietnam is about helping or making time for someone. And it depends on each person; showing up looks different for everyone. People giving their time to spend with someone is a powerful currency. “We’re making memories,” Cô Chau tells me. I’m getting nervous as my Fulbright is winding down in about 3 months (I kept saying 4 until I started to actually count). These memories feel quick yet abundant; my well of memories is so rich and deep from being here since August. Getting trà sữa after a long week of teaching to spending 2 weeks with someone during the Tết holiday are memories that shape how I have seen and experienced Vietnam. Each of these moments is a gesture of love, expressed by someone who wanted to make a memory with me.