So You Think You Can Understand Vietnamese

We have a quiet day, catching up on writing and blogs and working through our list of things we want to do again before we leave Vietnam. This included eating amazing pho chay, a yoga class (an open one now we are experts), drinking ca phe sua da in Gap, generally walking about and eating cheesecake. Well perhaps that last one was surplus to requirements, but it tasted fantastic. We also had a surplus to requirements afternoon beer.

But the real highlight of the day was going to see the Vietnamese version of So You Think You Can Dance. 

We arrive, having eaten dinner with P, who was kind enough to take us out and get us the tickets, and our tickets are upgraded because P, being in the entertainment business, knows the right people. We sit down. Everything looks just like the US and UK versions that I am used to watching. 

A man in a So You Think You Can Dance crew t shirt appears and says something in Vietnamese to our block of seats.

"He says we are right on the front of the camera" says P, casually, "and so we have to be focused and look to the stage."

Right.

 So no nose picking then. 

Also no mobile phones or photographs. We dutifully turn everything off.

Moments later we are approached by someone else.

"They want us to sit in the front" says P. 

This, we presume, as we bemusedly follow him, is because we are the only western faces here. We are seated directly behind the judges. When the nearest one of them speaks, my gormless face will be immortalised behind him.

This strikes some fear in me, though having watched the US and UK versions before I know that no one is interested in the audience. What I  concerned about, however, is that given I will not know what the judges are saying I am going to find it hard to ensure that my facial expressions are appropriate.

I needn't worry. The dancing, obviously, speaks for itself. And the tone of voice of the judges says the rest. It's, as usual, great to watch the dancers, though some are obviously better than others. One in particular moves me close to tears, though I am a bit soppy that way. At the end the judges and half  the audience are on their feet. Standing ovations, it seems, are also a universal language.

Its really interesting to see the camera work, people scuttling around following the dancers on stage, cameras inches away from them, the presenter moving around to get ready for his next cue and the count down which means the advert break is over and we should detach ourselves from P, who has been helpfully translating for us what has just happened, and grin into the camera and cheer.

I suspect the image of my large western features, with a fixedly neutral expression on my face behind the judges, will not stick for long in anyone's mind but my own. Even so the temptation to watch it on YouTube is surprisingly strong.