What is normal in Japan
is not normal everywhere

The phrase "cultural differences" comes up often when working with foreigners. Less guilt about being late, a loose attitude toward deadlines, reports that never come in: when you face situations like these and write them off as "cultural differences," you no longer have to think any further.

But saying "cultural differences" still leaves you not knowing what exactly is different, or how.

I have worked in Vietnam for 13 years. What I have realized along the way is that much of what we call "cultural differences" is really a difference in assumptions: differences in the environment people grew up in, in infrastructure and in how society works. In this article, I write about experiences that shook my own sense of what is "normal."

Living in an urban area of Japan, the convenience around you becomes "normal." Convenience stores are open 24 hours, with several within walking distance. Parcel deliveries can be scheduled for a specific time, and if you miss one, you can request redelivery.

These are just a few examples; in many respects, this is infrastructure of an extraordinarily high standard by global measures. But when you are born and raised in it, you lose any awareness that your standards are unusual.

That was exactly the first thing I felt when I came to Vietnam.

The time "electronics store" didn't mean what I thought

This was shortly after I was posted there. I asked a local staff member to take me to "a big electronics store." They took me to what was said to be the largest store in Ho Chi Minh City, but the moment I walked in, I was taken aback.

I had not expected anything on the scale of the electronics stores in front of Japanese train stations, but I had imagined something similar. What I was actually shown was a store of modest size and limited selection. I wanted to choose a high-end PC keyboard, but there were only cheap ones and far too few options. I suspected that "maybe my words didn't get across" or "maybe this person doesn't know much about stores like this."

But the problem was my own sense of what was normal. In Ho Chi Minh City at the time, that store really was the largest for PC products. The employee who took me there did not know what was "normal" in my head, so there was no added remark like "it's small compared to Japan."

Ho Chi Minh City is a major city with a population of over 9 million. A rural area might be different, but for a city, I had unconsciously assumed that "there must be at least this much."

Differences in everyday infrastructure change how people organize their lives

The electronics store is just one example; differences in everyday infrastructure reach into every corner of daily life.

In Vietnam, there is no redelivery system and no parcel lockers. When a package arrives, you have no choice but to go and collect it yourself. About 10 years ago, some employees would even leave work early to pick up a package.

Among young people living alone, it is not unusual to have no washing machine. Laundry is done by hand. That means that even for someone living alone, the time spent on housework is completely different from Japan. When everyday infrastructure differs, the very way people organize their lives changes.

Once you realize that your own "normal" is unusual, the next thing you see is that the other person's actions are also based on their own assumptions.

Why people go home for Tet

In Vietnam, many people return to their hometowns for the Lunar New Year (Tet). My wife is also Vietnamese, and she goes back to her hometown every year for Tet.

To Japanese eyes, this may look like "a national character that values family." That is not wrong, but there are more pressing circumstances behind it.

Social security in Vietnam is not as comprehensive as in Japan. There are public insurance and pension systems, but they alone may not be enough in old age or in an emergency. As a result, relationships with relatives and neighbors back home play a very important role as a safety net for when something goes wrong.

And not only in emergencies: relatives literally help one another on a daily basis. Childcare, house repairs, helping out at weddings and funerals. It is not just an emotional bond but a practical system of mutual support for daily life.

Going home for Tet is also a rational action to maintain that network. It is not simply a matter of "they care about their families"; it comes from differences in how society works. This, too, is one of the differences in assumptions.

Why people take a week off for a funeral

When my Vietnamese wife's grandparents passed away, I attended the funerals as a member of the family.

Vietnamese funerals were completely different from those in Japan. Relatives gather and work nonstop from early morning until late at night. Preparing meals, receiving mourners, arranging the Buddhist rites: the family divides up and handles everything. It is not the kind of atmosphere where you can leave partway through because you have work.

A Japanese funeral is usually over in 2 to 3 days. From that assumption, you might wonder, "A whole week off for a funeral?" But having actually experienced how things work there, I understood that there are reasons for a period of one week.

"Knowing" about differences in assumptions and "feeling" them were two different things. After living in Vietnam for years, differences I had understood as knowledge sank in as part of my own sense of things.

My sense of time changed

In Vietnam, most people commute by motorbike. Morning and evening traffic jams are part of daily life, and in the rainy season roads flood, so it is not unusual for the commute to take an extra 30 minutes. Every morning, when you leave home, you don't know how long it will take. After years of living like that, your sense of what "10 minutes late" means changes.

Countries with public transportation that runs to the minute, like Japanese trains, are very few worldwide. How much my sense of time back in Japan had been supported by an unusual environment: I came to feel that not in my head but in my body.

And strangely, the irritation at lateness that seemed natural when I lived in Japan becomes something I can no longer feel.

What I have come to feel through living and working abroad is the broadening of my own "common sense." Nothing is truly "a given." Once you understand that, little things stop making you angry.