Lễ Chào Đón Tân Học Viên

The one in which Brendan becomes lớp trưởng (huhu)

Yesterday morning we had the Lễ Chào Đón Tân Học Viên, basically a new student orientation. It was scheduled to start at 9:00am, but we didn’t get started until around 9:20. I’ve noticed things at this university don’t always start on time, which is a surprise to me. In general, my interactions with Vietnamese people in a professional context have been relatively punctual, give or take five minutes. Also, I did think it was weird the new student orientation happened after classes started, and the department did apologize that we hadn’t had it earlier.

The whole event lasted about an hour and a half. Various people from the Department of Vietnamese studies spoke. We have a total of nine students, but only five were able to make it. The other four had various obligations, most of which were work-related. Our program happens at night, so most people are working full-time jobs during the day. I’m not working at the moment.

We got some information I did find interesting about the department. We’re the 26th cohort to go through the program, and they’re just starting a PhD program now. Formerly, classes were concentrated over three semesters and then the thesis was written in the last semester. The program is trying a new structure this year where we finish the majority of classes in the first year, and then save the writing and research for the final year. I’m honestly not sure how I feel about this, because I like to learn more slowly so I can go deeper into each class. That being said, we were given the advice to work to just pass the classes we didn’t like and go deep with the ones we do.

Each professor that spoke really emphasized us graduating. I’m a fan of this. I want a program that’s graduation-oriented. One professor even said something along the lines of “the point of studying this degree is to graduate.”

During nearly every class so far and the orientation yesterday, we’ve had to talk about our research interests. I’m getting a little annoyed and tired of repeating the answer. I’m glad they want us thinking about our graduation project. It’s just that I don’t know yet.

I usually say “Teaching Vietnamese to Foreigners” but I also know this isn’t even a research question. Yesterday I added “Ethnically Chinese People in Ho Chi Minh City” to my answer, but that’s also crazy broad. Part of why I’m getting frustrated by the constant asking is that I don’t want to think too deeply about the research topic until I know more about the department and take some more classes. I want to work with an advisor I like. I want to research something that is within the scope of the department’s capabilities in terms of guidance and resources. I’m also not sure how “radical” my topics can be (I have some queer linguistics ideas, but I haven’t gauged yet how those will be received).

In addition to talking about our research interests, the lớp trưởng had to give a small speech.

If you’re not familiar with the Vietnamese education system, there’s a concept you need to know – lớp trưởng. I think it’s normally translated to “class monitor” in English, but I don’t really like that translation choice because it doesn’t really explain what a lớp trưởng is, so I’m going to use lớp trưởng. If you’re familiar with the Chinese or Taiwanese education system, it’s the same concept as 班長.

Okay, so what does the lớp trưởng do? They kind of act as a class representative, an intermediary between the administration and the students. They might have to photocopy materials to give other students. The teachers might have them collect all the homework for the class and send it as one file. It’s light work, but it’s still extra work.

Now, you might be asking, why is Brendan bringing up what a lớp trưởng is and going into so much detail? Well, that’s because the lớp trưởng had to give a speech as student representative, and that lớp trưởng is me (I did not choose this)(I repeat, I did not choose this).

How, you might ask, did I become lớp trưởng? Was it a power grab? Did it come from a desire to dig deep into Vietnamese culture? No. Neither of the above.

The story of how I became lớp trưởng is painfully, painfully simple.

In one of our classes, the teacher asked if we had a lớp trưởng or not yet. Nobody answered, so I said, “No, professor, we don’t have one.” To which she replied, “Okay, you can be the lớp trưởng.” To use an all-too-perfect English word, I was voluntold to be lớp trưởng. Ugh.

To be honest, I don’t want to be lớp trưởng. I said this to my classmates, explicitly. I told the department I didn’t have time or the capabilities to do it. Part of it has to do with that it is unpaid labor. Part of it has to do with that I don’t want a spotlight or any power in the context of my classes. I don’t want to organize other people and tell them what to do and when to do it. But that’s the thing. Nobody wants to be lớp trưởng.

So I’m stuck with it. I don’t actually expect it to be that much labor, but on principle I’m annoyed, and if I think about it too much I get frustrated. I’m going to try to just accept it. I was thinking of positives, but I haven’t come up with any yet. Hopefully more positives will come later. Maybe I’ll love the role. I’m open to this as a possibility.

It’s actually really interesting to me how my perspective on this type of situation has changed as I’ve gotten older. When I first started learning languages and interacting with different cultures, I would have loved this opportunity to use my language skills and immerse myself in a role unique to the host culture. Now that I’m an adult, I have learned a lot more about protecting my emotional energy and my time.

Anyway, as the lớp trưởng I had to give a small speech today. I did not prepare, and the speech was admittedly awkward and bad. This isn’t false humility. It was not good. And even worse, professors got their phones out to RECORD it.

I have never given a speech in Vietnamese before, so the whole time I was waiting to go, I was listening to the department of the head talk, listening for how she was greeting everyone, how she was referring to herself, trying to, in that twenty minutes or so, draw some conclusions on formal greetings and grammatical structures. I got some ideas but not many.

I should also talk about my outfit. I biked to school, and I was going to the pool after, so I wasn’t exactly dressed formally. Literally as I was walking out the door to go to school I had the thought, wait, how formal will this thing be? maybe I should put on dress clothes.

Everyone else obviously had this thought far before leaving their homes. The professors were in dress shirts or áo dài. One had a polo on. My classmates were also dressed up. Ahh – to be the American in jeans, a floral shirt, and sandals speaking, being recorded. I used to try so hard not to be a walking American stereotype and I became one. One professor even called me (in English), and I quote, the “hot boy American.” Ha! (this made me terribly uncomfortable, by the way).

In terms of culture faux pas, I think it’s minimal, and I’ve made enough faux pas in my life to find humor in this one. That being said, my outfit choice was fully on me, and I really should have thought about what to expect in something like this. It’s a mistake I’ll be careful not to make again. But I also refuse to beat myself up over it. It's a funny situation. Hilarious, even.

There was a point after the professors had gone around and talked to the students that the head of the department said to a different professor, “That Korean student over there has really great Vietnamese. He should have given the speech.” Writing this now, reliving the moment, I laugh. There I was, having just given a speech I didn’t want to give, and then someone is literally saying someone else should have done it! The irony!

I also thought back to countless moments studying in China where direct comparisons like this were made regularly. Or when, this past summer in Cambodia, the TA of our class evaluated our language growth one-by-one in front of the whole class! I’m so used to this mode of communication now that most of the time it doesn’t bother me.

It actually reminds me of something I think about a lot here, and something I’ve been wanting to write about for a while. Living in China, I always heard this sentiment that Americans are direct while Chinese people are not. I’ve been told the same thing in Vietnam, that Americans speak directly, while Vietnamese people speak in the round or speak euphemistically.

I have felt for a long time now that this categorization is wrong. I think what’s happening is that the definition of “direct” and “indirect” that people are working with is different. I think Americans can be very direct if they like or don’t like someone and when expressing feelings. I know this is true of me. If I don’t really like someone, I can’t be bothered to fake liking them. I respect their humanity and don’t act rude, but that’s as far as I go. Of course, this idea that Americans are direct doesn’t really apply to the South, but if I’m talking about how people imagine Americans, I think it holds true.

But I also think both Vietnamese people and Chinese people are super direct (according to an American conception of directness) when talking about things like perceived intelligence levels and body shapes. The number of Vietnamese men who have told me I would be more đẹp trai (handsome) if I worked out is wild! I once showed a coworker in China a picture of a friend and that coworker said, “your friend is fat.” Americans (the imagined ones, at least) are afraid of the word fat!

Yesterday was certainly an experience in Vietnamese culture, and honestly that’s a big part of why I’m doing this program in Vietnam. I have a deep desire to know more about this place, and I don’t just want to read about it. I want to experience it.