Culture Shock

When I first came to the U.S., so many things surprised me. From the name of specific items to the traffic. From food to money. It was so hilarious to look back. Today, I would like to share with you my story of when I first came to the U.S. If you were just like me, then you will see yourself in this post. Seriously, now that I look back, I feel like I was a person from a different planet.

It was December 26th, 2015, at 3 p.m. The day I came to the U.S. But let me do a playback to 10 hours before that, when I was on the plane with my mom. If you have a long flight of over 8 hours, you must feel tired and irritated. It is tough to sleep or relax, especially when you are in the economy section. I could not feel my butt after the plane landed.

My first time at Universal Studio

Before we took off at Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport, I asked my mom for a sleeping pill because I knew that I would not be able to sleep. I took out my own experience on a trip from North Vietnam to Central Vietnam. It was a 10-hour trip, and we went at night. I could not sleep during the journey. Two reasons: One was that I didn’t feel safe. I mean we went at night so, the possibility we might have an accident was high. Of course, I didn’t say that to anyone at that time. But still, it kept haunting me until today. Two was that I could not sleep while I was sitting. I believe that many of you are the same. Return to the story at Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport, my mom said no because I was too young to take a sleeping pill. And just like that, I stayed awake for 10 hours straight. I watched every movie on the plane. But still, I felt like the time had been frozen.

I remembered precisely this thing which was nothing good about it. When we were flying, the plane got into a storm area. While watching a movie, the screen switched to the PA announcement. The captain said we were about to fly into the storm area and might experience some unexpected turbulence, so we had to fasten our seatbelts. I was like, holy S. My whole body shook, and my hands turned cold. I looked around the cabin, and everyone, including my mom, was sleeping. There was no blood on my face at that moment. Then, we flew into the storm. The plane began to shake, from a little to a lot. And nobody knew anything. For a moment, I thought that if the plane crashed, everyone in my cabin wouldn’t have known anything. Only I knew. It was like the last day of my life.

After everything was done at the airport, we visited my mom’s aunt for dinner. I was so tired that my cousin took me to our house after dinner because he was living with us then. We rented a condo near Bolsa, Orange County, where many Vietnamese live. On the way home, I looked out the window to see the view, and one strange thing slapped directly to my eyes was the signs of every store on Bolsa street. They were all in Vietnamese. I was like, “am I still in Vietnam? Is this America?” I asked my cousin what the place was. He said that was Little Saigon, an area of Vietnamese. From that moment, I understood more about the city that we were living in.

During my first month here, there was a massive wall between me and American life because it differed from what I learned in Vietnam. Back in the day, I always dreamed of one day coming to America. They often say that America is the land of opportunity and freedom. I watched every Hollywood movie and admired their life so much. When my family from America returned to Vietnam to visit, they always brought two or three boxes full of American stuff. Chocolate, functional food, toys, cosmetics, skincare products, Gameboy, clothes, or cherries. All of that stuff made me impressed with the prosperity of this country. When I came here, I could see the glory of America and the life before me.

I used to think it would be easy to adapt to the new life. But I was so wrong. It is so f-cking difficult for me. First, like every Vietnamese who first came to the U.S., I used to convert the U.S. dollar to Vietnamese dong. I wanted to know how much a thing is in Vietnamese currency. Of course, it must be more expensive. But it is cheap in the U.S. I realized it depends on where we live; we must get used to the price there.

One day we had dinner at my mom’s aunt’s house. I believed it was her husband’s birthday. Before the guests came, we came early to help her family cook and lay the table. When I got into the kitchen to help, I saw a bag of beef jerky on the counter. I unzipped the bag and took out a jerky bar, and chewed. I felt so strange. The jerky was rigid and elastic. My teeth were tired after I took a bite. Then, my mom’s aunt walked in, and I asked her what kind of jerky it was. She laughed and said. “Why did you eat it? It is for dogs.” I dropped the rest of the bar on the floor. I wanted to vomit immediately because the jerky piece was already inside my stomach. I looked at the bag again, and at that moment, I found the words “jerky treat.” Yupp, it was for the dogs. It was a memory that I will never forget. From that moment, I always check first before I put something in my mouth.

If you want to go far in America, you will take the freeway because driving locally takes a long time to reach your desired location. When we left the airport and went home, my family drove on the freeway, and oh my god, it was so fast. I looked outside, and every car was like racing with each other. The speed was over 60 mph. I was scared because never in my life I went at this high speed. Then, I discovered that the road I was on at that time was a freeway. But it is not what I was shocked by the most. When I had my driver’s license and drove all by myself on the freeway, I was impressed with the freeway system here because there are so many freeways that take you to different places and even interstate and to the Mexico or Canada border. Whoever designed the freeway system, I am grateful.

One time we went to a restaurant with my cousin’s family. Before I continue, you all know we have a kind of restaurant called a buffet, where I can eat anything I want. It’s paid based on the people at a party. There is another name called “all you can eat.” So here is the thing. My mom’s other aunt doesn’t speak English very well. She often says differently than others, or sometimes she makes a phrase easier to speak for her.

For example, when she called me to join her family for dinner at a restaurant in the city, she said. “We will have organic tonight,” I questioned myself. What the hell is organic? Of course, I knew the meaning of “organic,” but I didn’t realize that a restaurant was selling organic food. I thought maybe her family wanted to eat healthily. But when we went to that restaurant, it was a buffet restaurant, and there was so much food with grease and fat. They were delicious, however. I asked myself where the organic food was among that food. Then, my aunt asked me how the food was, and I said it was delicious I asked her why they didn’t have organic food. My aunt looked at me, confused. She asked. “Why told you there is organic food here?” I said.

“Your mom said that. Organic.” Then, my aunt turned to her mom. “Mom, did you say organic to Huy? There is no organic here.” Her mom said. “This is an organic restaurant, right? You can eat anything you want. Organic.” My aunt burst out laughing hard. She understood the meaning of organic. Eventually, her mom meant “all you can eat,” but she didn’t know how to say it, so she said “or-ga-nic” instead. Oh my god, it was so hilarious.

Above are only a few of the many culture shocks I experienced during the month I came to the U.S. But after so many years living here, I felt everything in America is so close to me, and I love this life. I never thank enough for what America has done for me and for helping me to grow.