Relative worth

The temptation for visitors to spend money here is akin to the psychological effect of a sale: customers are partly motivated by the appeal of getting something for a fraction of the usual price (because most tourists have the benefit of a favorable exchange rate), and they are compelled to take advantage of this limited-time offer, while it lasts (because they’ll soon return to their home countries). So, Vietnam is one big clearance sale.

At least that’s the influence it’s had on me. So when I see that something I might want (four dresses, three pairs of shoes, a white gold necklace…) is cheaper than it would be in America, I’m more likely to splurge. In that respect, Vietnam seems to have brought out the spendthrift in me because I can indulge in something as trivial as ice cream every day, or as extravagant as a weekend in Nha Trang (considered the most beautiful city in the country).

But I’m a thrifty shopper at heart, and somewhat ironically, living here has augmented that prudent side. It’s all a matter of relativity. Suddenly a pair of $8 shoes is too expensive because there’s that other pair for $5, or on another day a $5 meal feels wasteful because locals often eat out for $1.

Actually, not all of it is relativity. The exchange rate and the necessity to use an unfamiliar currency also distort my perception. If I were dealing in dollars I’m sure my spending would be more in line with habit. Instead my psychological or emotional response to the dong is unpredictable. I might see my 50,000-dong note and think, “My, that’s a large number,” so I’d hate to spend it all on a taxi ride, even though it’s only $3. Or I might shell out the same note for a beaded necklace that I’ve just negotiated down from 120,000 dong, even though I am not that interested in jewelry and don’t even buy $3 necklaces in America. Troi oi! I don’t know if I’m growing or the house is shrinking.