03: P.S. I'm not on vacation

I wish I could tell you I was, but my current existence is perhaps not what you’d like to know about once when you learn I’ve moved across the Pacific Ocean. Especially not when a newsletter that is initiated when a fish jumps out of her water conjures notions of dynamic excursions and Tony Bourdain-like pursuits of novel culinary delights.

Let’s get things straight.

I was unemployed for September, October, and November. For the past four plus months, I’ve been living off of—I like to say hemorrhaging—my savings. I had no intention of existing this way for so long, and the stress and denial of the number I see in my bank account fuels an endless cycle of worry and YOLO-who-cares spending. I’ve only just received my first paycheque, and I have yet to achieve full-time hours at my for-profit EFL centre. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to handle full time given the number of hours I currently devote to lesson planning.

Meaning this is what the majority of my me time looks like.

Lots and lots of desk jockeying as I prep for classes. And those views of the bridge, canal, and centre hallway in my last post? The bulk of my dynamic excursions.

These aren’t complaints. Just a reminder to you, dear reader, that I’m here trying to sell my labour and do things that I enjoy when I’m not—just in an unfamiliar place. I have received so many lovely and supportive messages for my move and this newsletter, but I cower a little when they are accompanied by comments about all that I must be seeing, eating, and doing. On a regular day in your life are you seeing and eating and doing all the things? Colour me jealous if you are. If that’s the Saigon content you’re after, there are numerous social media accounts from locals and immigrants you can follow (I certainly do) to see what life here is like when you have such ability. They constantly highlight what a dazzling, dizzying, and ever-changing city this is.

When I moved to New York City, I felt a similar energy. There was a new, unspoken charge to my aura, as if I was now going to live a Carrie Bradshaw life or become my most fabulous self. My own feelings were intertwined given as early as age five I had hopes of not being an adult in Edmonton/Canada. (No one lives a Carrie Bradshaw life, of course, and) One of my favourite things about actually living in NYC, not just visiting, was to see just how mundane and quotidian it could be. Just like in all the towns and cities we posit as not cool or good or exciting enough, people in NYC go to work, they come home, they watch TV. They’re just like us.

NYC offers an unending buffet of how you can fill your time outside of that, but many abstain and embrace the ordinary within the extraordinary, out of necessity or choice. Walking and subway riding reigned supreme for me because that’s where you come to really understand this aspect of the city. On the street and in the train cars. What I’m trying hard to express is that I always find the seemingly ordinary within the seemingly extraordinary to be the big city stories I find compelling and pique my curiosity. They form the basis of any main character syndrome energy I would ever pursue.

I’m not asking for you to be excited about my life at a desk or for patience that it will one day be less at a desk. Things are going exactly how I thought. “Manage expectations” is now such an eyeroll-y office culture term for me, but it has its place. When I’ve had the opportunity, I like to think that I’ve tried to “temper” expectations by underscoring what I’m doing and any lifestyle differences. Given the real ones might be more related to a pre-pandemic existence than a Vietnamese one, this is all a little moot.

I understand how my own practices, however, have contributed to the need to temper. The most interesting and frequent posting I do on social media coincides with when I’ve been on vacation. #vacationrhianna is the spirit I harness when I’ve saved enough money to feel no constraints when away from home. Her purse has enough cash to do things without concern and to feel like she has broken with reality. That doesn’t mean first class and four stars, but it does mean that I plan and save to eat and see and do exactly what I want without worry or second guessing, especially as I travel alone and have no one else around second guessing. The accumulated joy at experiencing this unreality spurs me to share it all. I fear this has set a precedent for all that is to be seen in—shared from—my new city.

Most especially when it comes to food, as my passion for eating and learning about food has created thousands of connections with friends and strangers around the world. The additional electricity around my person seems extra charged with this move because of how justifiably exciting dining in Saigon is, whether that be a bowl of phở for a few dollars or a sushi omakase for a few hundred dollars. It is near impossible to escape food on offer here, and perhaps when you consider all the food delivery apps, it is impossible.

Like in other big cities known for great food, people come to you with their lens. Whether it’s from visiting, living, or casual knowledge/research, bias on what they have eaten or would eat, and thus what I should eat, naturally seeps out. This cannot be helped. I know you think I must eat X and I must eat at Y if I’m in Saigon, but really must I? What happens if I don’t?

In all that we’ve witnessed the past few years, and the way that social media prowess has supplanted food media and criticism, the opinions of others, the best of’s, and Big Publication reviews are increasingly meaningless to me. I see them only as starting points to be vetted by additional research and cross-referencing. I continue to read old guard restaurant reviewers and some new soldiers because the writing can be so good. But other than that, there are a handful of of people in this world whose opinion on food I trust—because I know their palate and philosophy on food is similar to mine. Most I’ve either never dined with or the shared meals were sadly too few. So, gimme all the Google reviews and search results to comb through and analyze.

ANYWAY, it’s just important for me to underscore that I’m not here with an agenda to eat and share every Vietnamese dish. Or to tell you about all the things I can eat for $1. This city is full of outrageously beautiful cocktail bars and coffee shops, but I prefer wine and one of my superpowers is being cool with cups of shitty instant in the morning. I also make a concerted effort to say that I’ve moved to Saigon, not to Vietnam. I am obviously a fan of Vietnamese food, but just as appealing to me for living and dining here were the existence of not one, but two Japantowns, a burgeoning natural wine scene, and multiple choices for good pizza.

I also have to share or remind that I was once hospitalized for one of the worst GI pathogens. I wrote about the experience on my previous blog. I’ve seen the dark side of when food safety unknowingly goes awry, and I don’t want to go back again. So, street food is something I cannot fully explore like you have or may want to. It is a huge part of Vietnamese culture, and something that locals, immigrants, and visitors rightfully like to share and promote. But I’m old and wise enough to be happy seeing others enjoy the pleasures that I cannot and to know that my life won’t be any less because I can’t experience and learn in the same way.

So as I offered a sorry, not sorry, to Instagram followers who only were interested in my baking porn, I offer another here for what you may feel ends up a Vietnamese-lite discussion on food. And, of course, another for all the desk meals.

Ultimately, though, when you think of me here, certainly don’t think of Vacation Rhianna or some new Saigon Rhirhi. Just think of Rhirhi. I do love dining out and travel and the fine arts. But those are so heavily influenced by factors that are rarely in my complete or ideal sense of control during everyday life. I love control, and so Rhirhi Rhirhi is just the girl who can exercise it by, well, physically exercising a lot, enjoying the solitude of being an indoor cat at home, eating the majority of her meals there, and catching up on Coronation Street when she has time. I’m just doing it all in Saigon right now.