On Expats in Vietnam Speaking Elementary Level Vietnamese **MOST FLUENTLY**

In a small artsy looking café somewhere near the storied/ fabled/ legendary/ iconic Hoan Kiem Lake in Hanoi, a male expat is speaking elementary level Vietnamese most fluently on his mobile phone.

He is doing this quite loudly as he wants to impress the two rather ravishing, well-heeled young local women who moments ago strutted in to this cafe as if they owned the place. The expat had expected a bit of eye contact and he probably would have been content with that. It would have been enough to have encouraged him to linger over his coffee a little longer, or maybe order another juice. But as they hadn’t even deigned to glance at him he had felt quite affronted not just on a personal level but as a representative of a whole tribe of resident expats who have taken the trouble to learn how to speak elementary level Vietnamese most fluently.

That’s why he had pulled out his phone and called his mechanic a minute ago. By speaking elementary level Vietnamese most fluently (he is basically telling his mechanic his motorbike is broken, asking if he can come to fix it sometime this afternoon and giving his address), he is making a point to these uppity women that: 1) He is not a tourist! 2) He is a long-term resident of Hanoi! 3) As elementary-level Vietnamese speakers go in this town, he is very possibly one of the most fluent — perhaps in the top 5, certainly top 10! 4) Next time they see him, they should glance flirtatiously at him, if not go a little further, perhaps even say (in very clear, easy-to-understand Vietnamese) “Anh oi, you’re most impressive… who are you, what do you do, et cetera, et cetera…” and well, who knows where things would go from there but let’s not rule out 12 events in the Bedroom Olympics with at least one of these women.

After he has given his address for the third time to his mechanic, the expat ends the call. He notes, without looking, the two women have stopped chatting. No doubt they have been stunned into this rare period of silence by his most fluent elementary level Vietnamese. With his task accomplished, the expat stands up and in that ever-so-slightly-grumpy-Hanoi-way-that’s-completely-acceptable-in-Hanoi he tells the mousy, 15-year-old waitress with a t-shirt that says “ALL THIS BUT BRAINS TOO” to calculate his bill.

He imagines the whole time the women are furtively checking him out. In his mind, their continuing silence basically implies they’re thinking: Who is the impressively authoritative foreign man with such a command of our language and our culture? Only their innate sense of decorum prevents them from shouting: “I WANT ONE!”, “I WANT ONE, TOO!”

The waitress very quietly places a piece of paper on the table and without looking the expat slaps down VND50,000 as if money is no object to people like him. He then steps outside, quickly mounts his motorbike, and drives onto the road where he attempts an awkward looking U-turn which involves trying to avoid a broom sticking out of a street cleaner’s wheelie-bin and a pair of socked feet jutting out of a parked taxi’s passenger seat window.

Out of the corner of his eye he can see the waitress waving at him as he completes his U-turn. She is holding the VND50,000 note in the air and saying something. No doubt she’s trying to return the leftover change. He raises his hand and waves her away. He also notes the two women are looking at him and laughing as he drives away. He assumes they are all flabbergasted at his most fluent elementary level Vietnamese not to mention his flagrant generosity but actually it’s because the waitress is trying to tell him he hasn’t left enough money for his ca phe sua da and an orange juice, the latter of which costs VND50,000 alone.

Oblivious to the fact that he has just stiffed the waitress, the expat man rides away with his back straight, feeling both quite manly and rather knowledgeable. After he drives around the corner, he remembers he needs to call his mechanic to cancel the pick-up. He pulls up on the pavement and nails this very short conversation so perfectly that he wishes someone else overheard it other than a 75-year old green tea and cigarette vendor who had nothing else to do but listen to him. Although, he would note at least she seemed pretty impressed by his elementary level Vietnamese which he speaks most fluently. It’s moments like these that make him think he might even be top three material.