On the Foreign Man's timeless delusions

This satirical story was first published by Eastlit in 2014.

A QUICK NOTE ABOUT THIS STORY (it’s just below, if you wish to skip the preamble): I spend a fair bit of time thinking about The Foreign Man Is Prepared to Take Everything in His Stride. Because, I am, after all these years, still the Foreign Man. And maybe you are too (yes, even if you are a woman). And he’s everywhere we look. In Hanoi and Saigon, online and offline, and lots of places in between.

Back in 2014, I wrote this piece in one sitting in a moment of self-reflection after realising, in a moment of clarity, that I had been a judgemental dimwit. And very often, say, when reading opinion pieces by expats published in the Vietnamese online press, or just sifting through Facebook/ LinkedIn/ Twitter posts, or even when eavesdropping in a bar frequented by expats, I am reminded of the Foreign Man’s wholly quixotic notions and fateful delusions. They really are timeless.

‘The Family Vehicle’, Hanoi. Buy a print of this photo by Morgan Ommer here.

The Foreign Man is prepared to take everything in his stride

THE FOREIGN MAN IS IN A CAR HURTLING DOWN A HIGHWAY towards a bridge. He is fresh off the boat. Or rather a plane. He has arrived in Hanoi, Vietnam, where he is on a mission. As he drives over the Red River for the first time ever, he is full of self-belief and determination. He laughs (a little nervously) along with the taxi driver who is laughing (a little giddily) at the Foreign Man who is shaking his head in disbelief at the mayhem all around. This is the beginning. This is day one. The Foreign Man is sweating a little bit but he’s prepared to take everything in his stride. This country is a work in progress. He is here to help. He is here to make a difference. He does not see himself as a hero. He sees himself as a humble facilitator. His modus operandi is imposing sustainable practices on developing countries. He is not a miracle maker. He is a policy maker. The key to his effectiveness is the application of far-reaching, holistic strategies and procedures. Whatever the issue is – inequality, road safety, the vulnerability of disadvantaged youth, HIV/ AIDS, disability, poorly regulated urban planning, a lack of green initiatives, a basic misunderstanding of the difference between a cappuccino and a latte, the absence of a great English breakfast-style sausage, that kind of thing – there is, the Foreign Man believes, a way to address and resolve the situation. His policies will do much to ameliorate the situation/ standard of Italian style coffee/ quality of English breakfast style sausages.

No matter where he goes in the developing world his mantra remains the same: Systems, systems, systems, details, details, details, training, training, training. Oh, and by the way, this man is from Sweden, Norway or Denmark, or maybe Germany, or is it Australia, or Ireland, or England, or the U.S.A? Where are you from? Maybe he’s from there. In fact, maybe this guy is you, yes, even if you are a woman. Or maybe you have guessed that this is a poor attempt at literary deflection – maybe he’s me. 

Let us not quibble! Let’s just agree to stick to the third person and get you up to speed on his life after three to six years of trying to make an impact in Hanoi, Vietnam. The Foreign Man has by now attempted to implement his training programmes, strategies and policies – and we should say he has worked tirelessly – yet he has failed to reach his targets/ fulfil his goals/ meet his own lofty expectations. Or maybe he briefly reached those targets then performances dipped. Or maybe his policies have not been implemented in the right way due to the shortcomings of associated bodies/ departments/ partners/ infrastructure/ human resources. Maybe he ran out of funding due to corruption/ wastage/ negligence/ inflation/ the global downturn. Maybe he needs more time, perhaps an increased budget. Suffice to say, he is disappointed to not meet his expectations and he is irked by the obstacles that have thwarted him pretty much every step of the way. It feels like he’s taking two steps forward then three steps back, or maybe one step forward, three sideways steps to the left, four to the right, and then back to square one. Or maybe it’s more like climbing up the ladder to the next level and then sliding down a snake to the bottom. Or maybe it’s like banging your head off a brick wall. Whatever the appropriate analogy may be, let’s just say the Foreign Man’s getting increasingly agitated. His whole life he has not been the kind of man to give up but the mounting frustrations he is experiencing through his work are starting to spill over into his free time. He has been getting visibly angry in restaurants when waiters make mistakes. He has started directing taxi drivers in an aggressive way as he now assumes they are all trying to rip him off. And, he has always been a thorough man, the sort who checks every item on his itemised bill and that’s fine. But one day the Foreign Man explodes with rage when an itemised bill from a sandwich bar has been inaccurately tallied and he has been overcharged by half a dollar/euro. He screams at the owner that he will never order a sandwich from there again and announces his boycott on Facebook/ Instagram/ Twitter. He has also become the sort of man who shouts at people on motorbikes who beep at him when they’re driving on the fucking pavement. When he goes for a cycle around West Lake one day,  with the intention of trying to mellow out, he ends up trying to kick the wing mirror of a car that is speeding on his side of the road and beeping at him as if he is in the way. When he orders a flat white and a cookie from a café staffed by former street kids they deliver the coffee in a plastic bag with a straw and the cookie in the cup. Once he would have found that funny, maybe taken a picture and stuck it on Facebook/ Instagram/ Twitter, and had a giggle, but this time he goes online and writes a scathing review on an expat network lambasting the lack of training and attention to detail of the managers. When a spiky-haired youth shouts “fuck you” at him for no reason at all, somewhere near his house, the Foreign Man charges after him and demands to know where the boy lives. He drags him there and screams at the boy’s parents in pidgin Vietnamese. They stare at him blankly until like all sudden storms he disappears as quickly as he appeared. The Foreign Man is now living in a state of permanent exasperation. The city is closing in on him. When he leaves his house it’s almost as if he is looking for things that irritate him so he can vent his frustration: reckless drivers, insolent teenagers, sloppy service, unjust dual pricing, hairs in his noodles, cappuccinos that look like lattes, sausages that should never be allowed near any kind of all-day Western style breakfast… The Foreign Man can’t see that’s he’s losing his grip, not even when, one day, he is driving up Nghi Tam Road and he sees three adults, two children and one baby all on the same 125CC scooter, and he will be so enraged that he will be determined to stop them. Unsure of how he will do this, or what he will do when he does stop them, he will shout at his driver, if he has one, to speed up, or he will step on the accelerator, if he is driving his own car—either way, he has to catch them! Picture him now, the Foreign Man swerving through the oncoming traffic narrowly avoiding motorbikes, mini-vans, buses and cars; speeding past several other foreigners on bicycles and scooters who wave their arms in the air and shout abuse at the driver of the 4WD SUV for driving like a madman. But the Foreign Man in the car doesn’t notice them, nor does he notice another Foreign Man who is sitting in a taxi driving in the other direction. This other Foreign Man is fresh off the boat. Or rather a plane. He is on a mission. He has just driven over the Red River for the first time ever, he is full of self-belief and determination – he is laughing (a little nervously) along with the taxi driver who is laughing (a little giddily) at the Foreign Man who is shaking his head in disbelief at the mayhem all around. This is the beginning. This is day one. This Foreign Man is sweating a little bit but he’s prepared to take everything in his stride.