I really appreciate any help or criticism !!!
I have a strange Vietnamese accent. Not that it doesn't sound like what you would expect to hear from a typical Vietnamese. In fact, I dare say no one knows it is strange except me. My Vietnamese accent automatically changes to match the accent of person I am talking to. If I am conversing with a northerner, my accent would be like a roller coast ride, fast, full of ups and down, marvelously intonated. If I am conversing with a southerner, my accent would be like the traditional cycle rickshaw ride, playfully whimsical and relaxed.
I picked up such mutable accent as my family travelled across VN during my childhood. In the 90s, the communist regime embarked on economic restructuring which focused mainly on the development of major cities; in search for economic prosperity, we hopped on a mid-night train fourteen summers ago, waving goodbye to our countryside hometown, Vinh City. Our first destination was the capital Ha Noi, the center of economic activity in the north. Afterwards, we adventured south along the coast line, passing by deep-water port city Hai Phong, old imperial city Hue, modernizing Da Nang and eventually settled down at Saigon, the South's industrial center. During our journey, we stayed at each city for about a month. Long enough for my parents to decide if residing at the city would lead to the betterment of our family. Long enough for me to pick up the local accent and taste a façade of the local culture.
I was always puzzled by the existence of different accents, wondering why one language is spoke differently from regions to regions. In Hanoi, "d" is pronounced like the English "z" while in Sai Gon, "d" is pronounced like the English "y". In Hue, the old imperial city, various slangs and vocabs are fused into the language, making it impossible for a Vietnamese who has never heard the Hue accent to understand. As I became increasingly acquaint to the different cultures of different regions during my journey, I began to form my own reasoning for the existence of different accents.
Perhaps, the difference in accents between the north and the south reflects the difference in indigenous culture. While the south chilled accent mirrors the south communal culture, the north rapid fire accent mirrors the north cut-throat competitive culture. This is understandable as the northerners have always had it harder. During the winter, Northern farmers waked up at 4 AM, burning straw around their rice field to prevent the formation of frosting which would damage plant's leaves. During the summer, they would spend their whole day watching over the rice field in case the antagonizing heat induced wild fires. Despite their effort, the fruit of their labor could be washed away by thirty minutes flash floods. In contrast, agriculture production flourished with relative ease in the south thanks to Mekong Delta fertile land. In addition, early inhabitants of the south comprised of explorers and settlers. Their situation of man vs. wild compelled them to work together which culminated into their communal culture. Such divergence in accents and cultures manifested themselves into social divisions at the industrial suburbs outside Saigon where my family settled down.
These industrial suburbs were representational microcosmos of the larger Vietnam society. Migrating to Saigon was to the rest of Vietnam what the American Dream was to the world. People from every nook and cranny of the countries flocked there, hoping to escape poverty. More often than not, people who migrated from the same places, essentially having the same accent, would stick together since the common accent reminded them of their real home somewhere far away, eliciting a sense of trust and comfort. Accents became the new social identification; similar accents became the basis of social groups and people with different accents are rarely welcomed into these groups. Fortunately, my mutable accent allowed me to interact with people from different groups. Soon, I realized that we were all essentially the same despite coming from diverse background. The adults were concerned about the same thing: late salary payment, cleanliness of the water. The children entertained themselves with the same means: street soccer, run n tag, etc.
Perhaps, the reason why I could effortlessly switch between the various accents was because even though superficially different, the accents spoke the same language, just as all these seemingly different people were all Vietnamese. Someday, I hope that I will be part of the generation that will bridge these social barriers.
I have a strange Vietnamese accent. Not that it doesn't sound like what you would expect to hear from a typical Vietnamese. In fact, I dare say no one knows it is strange except me. My Vietnamese accent automatically changes to match the accent of person I am talking to. If I am conversing with a northerner, my accent would be like a roller coast ride, fast, full of ups and down, marvelously intonated. If I am conversing with a southerner, my accent would be like the traditional cycle rickshaw ride, playfully whimsical and relaxed.
I picked up such mutable accent as my family travelled across VN during my childhood. In the 90s, the communist regime embarked on economic restructuring which focused mainly on the development of major cities; in search for economic prosperity, we hopped on a mid-night train fourteen summers ago, waving goodbye to our countryside hometown, Vinh City. Our first destination was the capital Ha Noi, the center of economic activity in the north. Afterwards, we adventured south along the coast line, passing by deep-water port city Hai Phong, old imperial city Hue, modernizing Da Nang and eventually settled down at Saigon, the South's industrial center. During our journey, we stayed at each city for about a month. Long enough for my parents to decide if residing at the city would lead to the betterment of our family. Long enough for me to pick up the local accent and taste a façade of the local culture.
I was always puzzled by the existence of different accents, wondering why one language is spoke differently from regions to regions. In Hanoi, "d" is pronounced like the English "z" while in Sai Gon, "d" is pronounced like the English "y". In Hue, the old imperial city, various slangs and vocabs are fused into the language, making it impossible for a Vietnamese who has never heard the Hue accent to understand. As I became increasingly acquaint to the different cultures of different regions during my journey, I began to form my own reasoning for the existence of different accents.
Perhaps, the difference in accents between the north and the south reflects the difference in indigenous culture. While the south chilled accent mirrors the south communal culture, the north rapid fire accent mirrors the north cut-throat competitive culture. This is understandable as the northerners have always had it harder. During the winter, Northern farmers waked up at 4 AM, burning straw around their rice field to prevent the formation of frosting which would damage plant's leaves. During the summer, they would spend their whole day watching over the rice field in case the antagonizing heat induced wild fires. Despite their effort, the fruit of their labor could be washed away by thirty minutes flash floods. In contrast, agriculture production flourished with relative ease in the south thanks to Mekong Delta fertile land. In addition, early inhabitants of the south comprised of explorers and settlers. Their situation of man vs. wild compelled them to work together which culminated into their communal culture. Such divergence in accents and cultures manifested themselves into social divisions at the industrial suburbs outside Saigon where my family settled down.
These industrial suburbs were representational microcosmos of the larger Vietnam society. Migrating to Saigon was to the rest of Vietnam what the American Dream was to the world. People from every nook and cranny of the countries flocked there, hoping to escape poverty. More often than not, people who migrated from the same places, essentially having the same accent, would stick together since the common accent reminded them of their real home somewhere far away, eliciting a sense of trust and comfort. Accents became the new social identification; similar accents became the basis of social groups and people with different accents are rarely welcomed into these groups. Fortunately, my mutable accent allowed me to interact with people from different groups. Soon, I realized that we were all essentially the same despite coming from diverse background. The adults were concerned about the same thing: late salary payment, cleanliness of the water. The children entertained themselves with the same means: street soccer, run n tag, etc.
Perhaps, the reason why I could effortlessly switch between the various accents was because even though superficially different, the accents spoke the same language, just as all these seemingly different people were all Vietnamese. Someday, I hope that I will be part of the generation that will bridge these social barriers.