A few friends dropped by the other afternoon and wound up staying for dinner, and I had to walk up to Xuan Dieu to the Italian grocery run by our neighbor Dominico to get some extra pumpkin ravioli. On the way home, I passed by our neighbor’s house to hear him blasting Led Zeppelin at full volume with all the windows open. I can’t quite communicate the effect this has in a little Vietnamese villagey neighborhood with houses separated by alleyways about 2 meters across, but it’s pretty funky.
The thing is, I have absolutely no objection to hearing Led Zeppelin blasted at full volume at pretty much any hour of the day. Nor do I have a problem with hearing the Grateful Dead on the days when that’s his ear candy of choice. I’m not sure what effect it produces on the rest of the neighborhood. On the one hand, most of our Vietnamese neighbors have never heard any of this stuff and probably find it rather strange. On the other hand, most of our Vietnamese neighbors seem to have a mind-boggling tolerance for noise, so maybe it doesn’t matter. Most significantly, the only neighbor who actual had a visibly irritated reaction was a fellow American who really doesn’t like heavy metal.
The point being I suppose that it’s striking what a powerful influence on one’s state of being this kind of acculturation can have. Here we’ve got this massive sonic input which to me is pleasantly nostalgic and to other American neighbors is just ghastly, because we’re on two sides of some kind of discrete cultural argument about what constitutes good or bad music. And to our Vietnamese neighbors I think it may just be anaesthetic gibberish, neither good nor bad but simply loud.
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