Acclimatising to a New Life Abroad (Adjusting to Work and Life in Vietnam)

Ho Chi Minh City

Day 2

This was the day work stopped feeling abstract. Not because I was teaching yet, but because that morning would be spent signing documents and beginning the process (or at least attempting to) of opening a bank account, completing a health check, and sorting the police check. A deceptively simple list.

It wasn’t just acclimatising to a new job though,  it was also acclimatising to a new country, and to the particular scale of a city like this, coupled with inevitable jet lag.

The signing itself was straightforward and easy to understand, which might come as a relief to anyone who’s trawled Reddit TEFL threads or Facebook groups. It was certainly a relief for me after all the online warnings about deceptive contracts and hidden clauses. So for anyone worried about accidentally signing away their firstborn, take this as a reminder that anticipation can sometimes carry more weight than reality. As long as you do your research and take time to find a decent company, you don’t need to expect a nightmare.

As anticipated, there was some vague  reason they needed to keep my legalised documents for the length of the contract. It’s something you should be wary of. I wasn’t particularly concerned, partly because I had additional copies as well as the originals, and partly because teaching isn’t my lifelong dream. I don’t see myself working for multiple companies in Vietnam long term — if anything, I’d move to another country for a while. For anyone who is serious about teaching long term and moving between schools or countries, though, it’s definitely something to consider carefully.

What made more of an impression than the paperwork itself was the city. Ho Chi Minh City is vast in a way that’s hard to register until you’re moving through it on foot. A twenty-five-minute walk stretches once heat, humidity and traffic are factored in time here isn’t measured purely in minutes, but in energy. Rain at this stage would have been a relief (or so I thought at the time) 

After the signing, I went to the bank to set up an account, hoping to tick one practical task off the list. Instead, it stalled almost immediately due to my phone not being set up correctly. This turned out to be a much bigger learning curve than expected. I’d bought a new SIM at the airport and essentially handed control over to the two girls working there. Despite having done a lot of research, I still walked away with a one-month contract that couldn’t be registered to my passport, something required to open a bank account.

A small issue, as it would turn out, and not catastrophic in the context of costs in Vietnam, but one that quietly halted everything else. By midday, it was clear this wasn’t resolving itself that day. Sometimes you have to recognise when you can’t progress something and just make the most of the rest of the day. Not everything moves quickly, and pushing rarely helps.

With the afternoon suddenly open, I planned to visit the zoo, only to arrive and find it completely deserted. It’s the sort of moment that makes you briefly question whether you’ve missed some unspoken rule. There’s an uncomfortable insecurity in being in a foreign country and turning up to an attraction that’s empty, almost like you’re the butt of the joke. Maybe the days of zoos are over a little. Why go to a zoo you could see anywhere when you’re in a city like this?

The best way to discover hidden gems is often to aim for the main attractions and then turn around and go somewhere else entirely. In this case, that “somewhere else” was a bookshop. My secret method for turning around is very unscientific: don’t commit to another thirty-minute walk, just pivot slightly on the spot. There’s no logic to it, it’s just what I tell myself, but so far it’s worked.

To get there, I crossed the road, which of course meant navigating the famous traffic. Spoiler alert: it’s overhyped by Instagram and TikTok. It’s really not as dramatic as you might believe.

The detour turned out to be the best decision of the day. The bookshop felt like a treasure trove. I went in looking for cookbooks, with the idea of learning the language through something familiar, before settling on Holes, translated into Vietnamese, with beautifully illustrated cover art. Completely impractical, but sometimes you buy things purely for nostalgia.

With limited suitcase space, I had to be selective. Without knowing what would become my home in a few days, it was tempting to stock up in this huge city. But even in a foreign country, there are always ways to get what you need. They may not have Amazon, but I would soon learn about Shopee, something almost everyone I’ve met has recommended.

On the way back, I ordered an iced black coffee and specified no sugar, something that would turn out to be a mistake. There is a reason sugar and sweetened condensed milk are the standard here, especially for iced coffee, the base brew is incredibly strong and bitter — so having it black, with no sweet relief, and with the ice prolonging the drink, left me feeling nauseous.

Back at the hotel, I asked for a phở recommendation and was directed to the very place I’d hesitated to enter the day before. This time, hesitation gave way to obligation. It was clearly a local place, not street food exactly, but not a restaurant either. The service wasn’t friendly. That seems to be part of the deal with places like this. Yes, Vietnamese people are friendly, but these spots exist to do one thing properly. There’s no fluff or drama. The service isn’t bad or rude, it’s just exactly what it needs to be, no more, no less. And tipping culture doesn’t exist here.

The whole place was hot and sweaty, and so were the chillies. The bowl itself was decent. It didn’t quite have the fragrance or depth of aromatics in the broth, but as with phở, it’s the side additions that make a big difference. Part of the beauty of eating a dish like this is throwing in a load of green things you don’t know the name of. As long as I can add some kind of chilli condiment once the broth is gone, I’m happy.

When it comes to dessert, if you love sweet pastries and cakes, there is plenty of choice. I found a beautiful, albeit expensive for Vietnam, pâtisserie with an array of colourful croissants. But if you’re a chocolate loverlike me, you can either spend a lot of money or settle for Lotte biscuit-type things. I wouldn’t even discover my favourite treat for a few more days, though I would quickly learn what to avoid.

I did, however, find a slightly more expensive shop called Farmers Market, a bit like a Vietnamese farm shop or deli. Still far cheaper than anything comparable in the UK, it had a good selection of charcuterie, vegetables and seafood, as well as frozen wholemeal baguettes. They needed cooking in the microwave, which gave them a strange texture, but they were good enough.

Another thing I would soon learn is that wholemeal bread hasn’t quite been perfected here, and compromise is essential. This microwave version was enough for a short-term wholemeal fix, before I’d realise there was a bigger issue to contend with.

By the end of the evening, the caffeine from that single coffee was still affecting me. I felt nauseous and overstimulated, and even repeated dips in the rooftop pool didn’t undo it.

Nothing dramatic had gone wrong, and yet the day had taken more than expected.

Considering I’d barely slept after a sixteen-hour flight and had essentially carried on as normal the day before, missing an entire night’s sleep, I’d convinced myself jet lag didn’t affect me. It turns out that was optimistic. If you’re prone to headaches, prepare yourself. And if you’re not, prepare yourself anyway.