We’d just finished a supermarket shop and were already outside when he suggested we go back in to check for something we’d been meaning to buy. I said no. He kept imploring me — until I switched to his language and told him they didn’t have any. He relaxed, chuckled, and said “well done for checking, let’s go home.”
That’s what this quote means to me in practice:
“If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his own language, that goes to his heart.”
— Nelson Mandela
If your partner is Vietnamese, maybe you already get this — or you’re starting to.
Why their language lands differently
There’s something that happens when you say something in Vietnamese to a Vietnamese person — a smile, a kind of delight, a lighting up. Say em ơi to your partner and you’ll see it.
Pet names are the same. They don’t travel well across languages. Someone once called me kitty to be cute — (as Russian use this word, “kotik”) — but in English it just sounded strange. Yet I got so used to being called em and chị that I’m still fond of them as a term of endearment today. Vietnamese terms of address — em, anh, chị — carry a warmth that English equivalents simply don’t, especially when you add ơi.
English works fine for most things. But some moments — tender ones, urgent ones, funny ones — just land better in their language.
The surprise you’ll become
I used Vietnamese several times on a trip to Prague last year. I speak some Russian and Bulgarian, and had picked up please and thank you in Czech, so I could start ordering food — but the language would break down quickly. Sometimes we’d manage in a Slavic mashup, or if someone was old enough to have learned Russian at school. But reverting to English isn’t something I enjoy, as someone who loves speaking other languages.
So when I found Vietnamese cafes and restaurants, the first thing I’d say was nói tiếng Việt được không (“can you speak Vietnamese?”) and it was genuinely a pleasure to switch into a language that felt comfortable for both of us. To speak without having to think too hard.
On my last day in Prague I still needed to buy postcards and stamps. We found a shop that was open late. While I was browsing, I noticed the guy behind the counter talking to a colleague — in Vietnamese, and in a Southern accent, which meant I could follow quite a bit of it. When I went to pay I asked again: nói tiếng Việt được không? I had to say it twice — he was so surprised to hear Vietnamese from a Caucasian that it didn’t register the first time. I bought my stamps, also answering their questions about how I’d learned — I lived in Vietnam for over three years, I told them, though it was several years ago now. They were almost as surprised that I could still remember it as they were that I’d learned it at all! I’m sure they went home and told their families about this surprising encounter.
Wherever Vietnamese people are — in the UK, in the US, in a late-night shop in Prague — cảm ơn gets a smile. A simple thank you, but many foreigners don’t bother to learn it. It’s noticed when you do.
And if you get far enough to make a joke? That’s something else entirely. I can still clearly remember the first time I made a pun (and how proud I was my Vietnamese was good enough to do so!):
Lâm biếng means “lazy”. Lâm biển refers to fishing — a way of life in Vietnam’s many coastal towns and villages. Someone once mentioned that people in their hometown lâm biển, and I floated the pun: lâm biển, not lâm biếng, right? They told me I should use that joke in their hometown as people would like it.
What you actually need — and when
You don’t need much to have real moments. Cảm ơn gets smiles. Em ơi earns you a beaming face.
But if you want to follow conversations at family gatherings, text your partner in Vietnamese or move beyond pleasantries and make your first joke — you need some structure.
One honest thing worth saying here: Vietnamese is a tonal language, which means the way you say a word — the rise and fall of your voice — changes its meaning entirely. I once tried to say sáu mươi triệu (sixty million) but got the tone wrong and said sau mười triệu (after ten million) instead. The person I was speaking to repeated it back to me, confused until I tried again and got it right on the third attempt.
That kind of mix-up is normal at first — but it’s also why you need to hear Vietnamese from the start, not just read it. A phrasebook or flashcard app alone won’t cut it. You need audio lessons at your level, repeatedly. That’s ten times more true here than it would be for Spanish or French due to Vietnamese’s tones.
Where to start
If you’re a complete beginner — you know xin chào and not much else — start with free resources first. My absolute beginner guide points you to the best of them.
Once you have a small foundation and want something structured to follow: you need audio lessons with transcripts. Two I’d point you to are VietnamesePod101* — structured lessons at every level, Northern accent — and Learn Vietnamese with Annie for a Southern accent and a more conversational feel. I’ve written about how to use podcasts to Learn Vietnamese and a full honest review of VPod101 here if you want more detail before deciding. For anyone unsure which accent to learn, here’s my article on why Northern vs Southern Vietnamese matters.
The moment you’re working towards
You’re not picturing some distant, abstract goal. You’re picturing something more specific — following a joke at a family gathering, sending your partner a message in Vietnamese and getting a delighted reply, being the unexpected person in the room who actually bothered to learn.
That moment is closer than you think. Here’s where to start.
If this is the kind of practical, honest Vietnamese learning content you’re looking for, you might like my mailing list — I share ideas and resources that don’t always make it onto the blog.