I know that those who know me best are interested in how I’m surviving on Vietnamese food. While my initial exposure to Vietnam was gradual, spent in the company of American friends, my exposure to new cuisine was something akin to full and immediate immersion. I didn’t touch a fork all week.

I am proud to report that even my own mother wouldn’t be able to recognize me by my eating habits here. I have tried every dish that has been put in front of me, whether it be whole, crunchy shrimp, rubbery fried squid, greens dipped in a spicy fermented anchovy sauce, or fresh fish laid out, eyes and all, on a communal plate. After a brief period of awkwardness, I’m rocking the chopsticks, and can shovel enough rice into my mouth at mealtime to sustain my slender frame.

Above you’ll find a picture of an average breakfast, this one being mine one morning in Dong Hoi with beef noodle soup (pho bo) at the left, Vietnamese coffee to the right. At the bottom of the coffee is a layer of sweetened, condensed milk to be stirred in, giving the local coffee its distinct rich sweetness. I drink my coffee like a lot of Westerners do here: diluted by about half with hot water, to avoid a diluvian rush of caffeine.

It turns out I quite enjoy rice and seafood, especially fresh fish, and find the nuoc mam (fermented anchovy sauce) tastier than I had expected. Still, on the day we were served shrimp at breakfast, lunch and supper, it seemed a little bit excessive.