Living as an English Teacher in Ho Chi Minh City

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I made my way into the world of expat life via living as an English teacher in Ho Chi Minh City. I landed in July 2013, just days after my 23rd birthday. That was years ago, and I have since called many different cities and countries around the world home. But back then expat life was novel – and I wrote all about it.

So, here are five of my early blog posts, all condensed into one, on my reflections of those early days in Saigon.

Enjoy!

Moving to Ho Chi Minh City

Originally published August 7, 2013

Ho Chi Minh is like nowhere I’ve ever been but it feels completely comfortable (apart from the heat). I’ve been here for less than a week and already done so much. I’ve begun my work induction, and actually start to teach on Saturday. I’ve picked up a few Vietnamese words, no easy feat, the intonations and sounds are extremely hard to make and the language is very strange to listen to with such a foreign ear. I’ve been swindled. I’ve eaten frog and squid and loads of noodles. I’ve drunk a lot of beer and chased cockroaches on the street with a little Vietnamese boy who didn’t speak any English. I’ve met a gaggle of expat teachers, some new as myself and others who have been here for months or years. The expat community here is huge and makes the transition so much more seamless.

While it’s only been a few days I’m happy to say that my biggest fear has become irrelevant. That moving here would be similar to Morocco. And that I would be a novelty, a white woman, and that would bring me huge amounts of unwanted attention. Of course it’s clear that I’m a tourist and I get as much attention as that would bring anywhere, but I can do, go, and wear what I want, when I want. I can go out drinking, I can walk around by myself, at all hours. Those things, having that freedom, that independence which is such a huge part of my love of travel, will make my transition here immensely easier and I am excited for that.

I’ve begun to look at houses and hope to be settled in somewhere before too long. The next step is getting out on the roads on a motorbike…

That motorbike post now lives here.

Housewarming

Originally published August 23, 2013

It’s just about exactly one month since I’ve arrived in Vietnam and it’s starting to feel more and more like home. Two weeks ago I moved into a house. I spent ages looking, contacting agent after agent being shown dump after dump, finally when one of my prospective housemates bowed out, bringing the bedroom countdown from five to just four, we quickly found a lovely place.

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Moving into the house took us away from the ever touristy Bui Vien in district 1 to a much more local area in district 3. We are down a little alley surrounded by Vietnamese families. Out on the street we live on I’ve not seen a single western face since moving in. Around the corner is a market piled with fresh fruits and vegetables, I’ve only ever made it in the afternoons when the meat and fish stalls are already cleared out, but I’m aiming to get there early one morning to see it in all its glory. The street is lined with amazing street food, all varieties of meats on bread, or in rice or noodles, or in soup, always with a good deal of herbs and veggies always for just about $1.00. It’s a terrific spot to live. My motorbike commute to school is short and simple and there is clothing and shoe shopping all up and down.

The house is a bit of a palace and a bit tacky at the same time. The space is open, and light, all the rooms are tiled and clean. Each room is adorned with a chandelier and the living room boasts blue and pink in-ceiling mood lighting as well as moon and star moldings. The top balcony is a few steps from my bedroom and is a wonderful spot in the evenings, once the heat of the daytime has cooled off. Every bedroom is ensuite and the house is fully furnished. All of this comes at a minimal cost. A price you could never find anything like it for anywhere in America.

As I write this the rain is pounding loudly on the roof and a little lizard is hanging out above me on my bedroom ceiling. The rain should let off in the next month or so as rainy season breaks and the real heat moves in. But the lizard, he’ll probably stay, and that’ll be alright with me.

Dentistry in Vietnam

Originally published September 19, 2013

The blog’s been a bit quiet over the past few weeks and I’ve been off doing research on dentistry in Vietnam. Not a topic I ever planned or wanted to have anything to do with, my stubbornness against dentist orders at home to remove my wisdom teeth finally bit me in the ass. Maybe it’s my street food diet, or the way you can feel the grease on your teeth after you eat here, whatever it was, something gave me a nasty infection in one of my wisdom teeth. After stumbling through a weekend of teaching, pale faced and shivering in the 90+ degree weather, I finally visited a dentist on Monday morning. After a bit of research I landed on Starlight Dentistry in district 3, the practice came highly recommended by the internet.

My visit got me a prescription (not that you need it around here) for antibiotics, anti-inflammatories (my face was closely resembling a chipmunks), pain meds, and orders to have the tooth removed the following week. Get my wisdom tooth removed in Vietnam you say? I think not. But after research into flights home ($1,000+) and the thought of sacrificing all those vacation days, as well as conversations with family and teachers here, many of whom knew someone who had had some sort of successful dental operation, going through with it seemed to be the best, maybe only, option.

So the following Tuesday (two days ago) I went in with my friend and housemate along for moral support. I was strictly advised to have a large breakfast, evidence I would not be put under for the procedure. My procedure was scheduled for 8:30, by 8:50, with gauze packed in the corner of my mouth and my souvenir tooth in a plastic baggy, I was on my way back out the door. I’d be lying if I said my hands weren’t shaking the whole time and that I wasn’t convinced they were taking the wrong tooth, they were and I was but they didn’t.

Now 48 hours later my face is not swollen and things seem to be headed in the right direction (knock on wood). I go back next week to get the stitch snipped out and last night I successfully ate a cheeseburger, albeit cut up into little pieces and chewed only on one side of my mouth, but I still ate it.

While wisdom tooth extraction is not my first suggestion of itinerary for Vietnam, if you do end up in the unfortunate position of having to have it done, I can say that it probably won’t be the worst thing you’ll ever have to do and Starlight Dentistry may be a good place to start. The only bad news I have to report is that the tooth fairy does not in fact visit Vietnam.

Vietnamese Independence Day

Originally published September 25, 2013 

A long overdue post due to tooth issues as explained in my last post…

Who is it independence from?

Umm, America? I’m not sure.

That was the conversation I had with one of my Vietnamese teaching assistants at school regarding Vietnamese Independence Day, which was celebrated this past Monday. The same day as Labor Day in America. In fact, the day is not to celebrate independence from America, seeing as how America never ruled Vietnam, it is to celebrate independence from France. One would think in a country that has been so full of propaganda throughout the years anyone who has had any sort of official education would know this. But perhaps the lack of knowledge is less to do with education and more to do with a sordid history of conflict and occupation by many different world powers.

Either way, this past Monday, all of Vietnam celebrated Independence Day. That meant that all government offices and schools were closed. Restaurants and any recreational businesses remained open. I don’t usually work Mondays so my day really wasn’t affected except that everyone who did have the day off organized a big group to go out to an Irish pub in district two with a gorgeous courtyard and swimming pool. So I spent the day drinking beers ($1.50 outside of happy hour and $0.75 during the 4-8 happy hour) and chatting with friends I’ve become awfully close to in the past month I’ve been here. It was the first time I’ve been swimming since I arrived, you’re not meant to go swimming in rivers here. Well, that’s true for all city rivers, you wouldn’t want to be jumping into the Hudson. But here it’s true for even freshwater rivers which look beautifully clean. Unfortunately, they are often infected with nasty little bacteria which can make you incredibly sick. So it’s chlorinated pools and the ocean, only.

After many hours of swimming and drinking, a big group continued on the night down to Bui Vien, the main backpacker drag which has recently become the place to see and be seen for locals. For a Monday night, the bars were all packed, locals out celebrating independence from, well, whomever, and tourists joining in on the chaos.

That’s life here, always a party. Often too much of one, never ask why, just join in and let Saigon suck you in.

Health Check

Originally published October 10, 2013

After I survived the dentists chair (and after having chosen a very western, high standard one) it was time to go for a health check. A necessary part of finalizing a work permit in Vietnam, my employer, ILA, organizes the logistics. They choose the hospital, make the appointment, get a Vietnamese TA to accompany you, pay for the taxi ride there, and the appointment.

I arrived to my school at 8:30, exactly on time as I’d been told, best to get this thing out of the way and get on with my day. I waited up in h.r. for about twenty minutes with two other new teachers. As we chatted they both informed me that this was a return visit for them. They’d been the previous week and been told that they had slow heart rhythms and they had to go back to get a heart monitor put on for 24 hours. This was at extra expense to them (ILA doesn’t pay when you have to make a return visit) and extra income to the hospital. Both of them had never had any previous issues with their heart and we’d all met at least two other people who had had to return for the same reason. Plus, a slow resting heart rate is something that athletes strive for, it’s a sign of a healthy, fit body.

Anyways, after another twenty minutes, now getting on 9:15, we were informed that we were waiting because one of the teachers had forgotten to come with the required six passport photos. Nearly an hour after arriving promptly on time we piled into a cab for the 20 minute journey to a far away district. As we were going, our t.a. told us we’d need to hurry along as the hospital (at least the health check area) closed from 1:00 to 3:00 for lunch and if we didn’t get everything done by then we’d have to return in the afternoon.

In the next three hours I managed to get my paperwork filled out, blood drawn, heart rate taken, random health unrelated questions asked, a lot of waiting, stomach touched, more waiting, pee into a cup over a hole in the floor toilet with no paper, and then I was informed that the health check was closing and we’d have to come back in the afternoon. That was my whole day gone, two workshops missed, and a day of lesson planning sacrificed.

Now, the first part of the check was done in the area specifically designated to westerners, though really it was full of Vietnamese. I’d been warned that the health check hospital was a bit dodgy and though you could be sure they were using clean needles the rest of it was more than questionable. After spending the morning in what I can only describe as most similar to a greyhound bus station, I didn’t really see what all of the fuss was about, the worst part to me was the abruptness of the staff and the way you simply got pushed down the assembly line, but the rest of it seemed like what you’d expect from a SE Asian hospital.

After lunch we got to head back, and that’s where I got a taste of the real fun stuff. The chest X-ray and “breathing system” check was done in the other section of the hospital. Open air, puddled floor, cracked walls, congested and hot, to me the waiting area was like the DMV except less organized and without air conditioning in a much hotter climate. The hallways were lined with gurneys and as we walked past patients being pushed not by nurses but by family members our TA informed us that this was where people were sent to die, the hopeless cases. No kidding. In the X-Ray room I was told to take off my shirt and put on a crumpled blue gown that had been haphazardly tossed on a chair back. After two X-rays I went to the breathing system man who told me about the time he’d spent in the Chicago airport and then promptly signed off on my ability to breath and talk simultaneously. An eye exam and it seemed I was finally finished, six hours later.

One of the guys who’d been sent back for his slow heart rhythm had spent the whole day waiting to get the heart check done again and when it finally was they told him that it was still slow, the doctor informed him he was truly concerned for his health but then said that all of the heart monitors had been used that day and he’d have to come back the next week. Again, all at his own expense. I held my breath for the next day hoping not to get a call that I’d have to return for one reason or another, and I seem to be in the clear. By the way, I have a diagnosed irregular heart rhythm.

I fully embrace the lifestyle here, I love sitting on the side of the street eating pork and rice and racing down the streets on my motorbike. I love the kids I teach and the Vietnamese TA’s I teach with. In no way do I feel superior or think that I should be treated differently, but for goodness sake I hope I never, ever see that hospital again.

If you want to read more about my time as an English teacher in Ho Chi Minh City or in Vietnam in general – and what I recommend you do if you visit the country, have a look at theses posts:

Or, if you want to know more about my time abroad in various countries, mostly teaching English – check out what I’ve written about here:

Do you live, or are you thinking about living, in Ho Chi Minh? I’d love to hear about your experience – the highs, the lows, stick your story in the comments below! Or, if you’re looking for some more guidance on the move, or a trip to the city – please feel free to reach out.