Yes, I’m an Expat. No, I Don’t Want You to Visit Me.

I’m aware, of course, that Vietnam is quite the exotic location for most travelers. UNESCO World Heritage sites Ha Long Bay and Hoi An are permanent bucket list items for anyone considering Vietnam as a holiday destination. I was one of those travelers, wowed by how fundamentally different this messy-beautiful and chaoticly mesmerizing Asian country is from Australia.

Going to Vietnam the first time was life-changing for sure. Maybe because it was all so new and different to my life before and the world I grew up in. The food, culture, landscape, and smell; they’re all inseparable. It just seemed like another planet; a delicious one that sort of sucked me in and never let go.

— Anthony Bourdain

In 2010, for two weeks, I traveled Vietnam from south to north, starting in Saigon and finishing in Hanoi, making a promise to myself to return for a lengthier stay. And I did. Since 2016 — for almost three years now — I have lived in Hanoi. It’s exotic, yes, but it’s also my home.

I do normal things here: work, have meetings with my accountant. I socialize with friends and watch a lot of Netflix. I go to the gym. I learn Vietnamese and guitar. I travel sometimes, but not often enough. I shop at the supermarket and I cook. I volunteer. I complain about the traffic and pollution and the heat. But it’s my life and my life is here. It's not a holiday, although I'm sure it seems that way to the visitors who want to come to Hanoi to see me.

Except they don't really want to see me see me. Or spend a lot of time with me. Oh, they pretend well enough, but what they want is a free on-ground concierge to organize tours and transport and taxis. They want a translator. They want me to help them manage the currency and as a back-up bank if their ATM card doesn't work. They want to try all the street food and ice cream and coffee and rice wine and roof-top bars and expect me to take them to all these places. They want to buy cheap Chinese crap at markets but they are disinterested in Vietnamese art and culture and history. They complain about upset stomachs and tiny chairs and the humidity and the smell and the language barrier and how challenging and difficult it is in Hanoi and how can I possibly bear it?

Some people were born to have friends visit them while they live overseas. I am not one of those people.

— Diane Lee

I bear it because I, for the most part, love living in Vietnam, and I like that I am here on my own. I just do my own thing. No family expectations to navigate, no toxic bosses to avoid. I have enough friends — although as an expat there’s always a churn — and I savor my alone time. I do what I want, when I want, with who I want, and I have freedom. But when I have visitors, it's like I've been locked in a cage. My freedom, the whole point of living here, is curtailed because I feel obligated to look out for them. My conscience, and ties to the friendship — however tenuous — make sure of that.

I feel responsible for making sure they don't die crossing the road or eating dodgy ice. That they don't get overcharged because they can't work out the currency. That their card doesn't get chewed in the ATM and they don't accidentally eat dog or cat meat instead of pork. That they don't go deaf or insane from lack of sleep because of the construction that is Hanoi's constant soundtrack and they’ve chosen to stay in a hotel in the wrong location. I have to tell them where Sapa and Hoi An and Danang are and yes, they are all far from Hanoi. And explain why there are so many motorbikes parked on the footpath, and so many drivers running red lights: it’s just the way it is. And that taking motorcycle taxis is perfectly safe. And so is eating street food, just don't drink the tap water, although you can brush your teeth with it. And wash your fruit and vegetables. And alleys sound scary but they aren’t, even late at night when you are toddling home after drinking copious margaritas with friends. And yes, that’s a freshwater lake. And no, you can’t swim in it unless you like swimming in toxic water. And I have no idea why anyone does [insert weird behavior here] so please don’t ask. And yes, that’s a cobra in that vat of rice wine…

A dinner or a lunch here and there is fine, but it’s mentally and emotionally taxing spending 24/7 with people you’d be lucky to see for a couple of hours every few months back home.

— Diane Lee

It's exhausting and expensive and frustrating while I am being visited, and I yearn to just get on with my life. My normal, everyday, routine life — here in Hanoi.

So, a word of warning to friends and ex-work colleagues, and relatives of friends and ex-work colleagues: if you are intending to visit* me in Hanoi, don’t.

I’d rather eat thit cho and everyone knows I’m a vegetarian.

*Except if you are immediate family. Then that’s totally fine.