2 Vietnam stories come to mind; I am starting to forget these kinds of stories, so I will send them now while I am sitting at an internet cafe...

 

First, they celebrate someone's death here, not their birth (although, among the MTV generation, this is starting to change)....  Most of the homes have a Buddhist shrine, and in the shrine are photographs and drawings of people in the family who have died.  On the anniversary of that person's death, the family gets together and has a big meal to honor the person - they eat that person's favorite food.  So, for me, those poor future generations will be pounding a lot of steaks because my favorite food is those small, fried steaks with spaghetti...  They will curse my death...  Under ordinary circumstances this meal becomes a family celebration and remembrance.  The older people here would never celebrate a birthday.  And, not to be a jerk, but, we didn't even know we were Irish?!?!?

 

Now, the embarrassing one, the one that proves there is no way two cultures can ever understand each other...  In Hanoi I met a really nice woman who introduced me to people, ordered my food for me (and not chicken's feet, either), and showed me around.  So, on the day that I left, I went to buy her flowers ($2.00 for 15 roses), and I checked with the flower woman what the color of the flowers meant here (did you know that a yellow flower in France is death????)  The flower lady said that white flowers mean "no husband" so I took this to mean that they were perfect for the occasion - an expression of thanks and friendship without the signal that red roses would send in the USA.  Well, I just found out, a little to late, that when she said ""no husband"", it meant that the woman would die a virgin.... WOOOPS!!!!

 

I am sure the recipient of my flowers will try to understand!!

 

Steve