The Right Attitude

Little Saigon's Delights

Tet - Vietnamese Lunar New Year

Personal Pronouns In Vietnamese

Ninja Language Learning

Notes on reading Vietnamese

Planet Names

   

Not You Or Me, But Maybe Ông, Bà, Anh, Chị, Cô Or Em And Tôi – The Complex Vietnamese System Of Personal Reference

magine a language where instead of one word meaning “you” or “me” there were at least seven – a language you couldn’t say hello in without telling your listener exactly what you thought of them.  Imagine you had to keep at least all those pronouns straight just to know what to call yourself in front of anyone you might meet.  Now stop imagining, and learn Vietnamese!!

Like most Asian people, the Vietnamese are super status conscious.  The way they treat each other – as well as what they call each other – takes age, gender and public position into account, and woe be to anyone uncouth enough to get it wrong!  Yes, you’re allowed a few token gaffes as a barbarian foreigner, but even if you’re on your home turf you’ll gain bigtime Việt Points if you remember that the word for ”you” depends on who you’re talking to – and how high they are on the invisible social totem pole.

But here’s the real trick: If there are at least seven words that mean “you,” then each of them locks the person using it into using its corresponding “me” to complete the polite social contract.  In other words, call somebody “Ông” (Mr. or Sir) and you have to call yourself something else – something lower ranking to show proper humility.  But then again, don’t stoop too low!!  The choices used to be truly mind-boggling – but for now, stick with this list:

  • Ông ------------------------------- Grandpa
  • Bà --------------------------------- Grandma
  • Cô --------------------------------- Auntie
  • Chú ------------------------------- Uncle
  • Anh ------------------------------  Elder Brother
  • Chị --------------------------------  Elder Sister
  • Cậu -------------------------------- (male) Cousin
  • Em ---------------------------------  Younger Sibling (of either sex)

As you can see, these are all family terms.  Whether this means that Việt Nam is one big dysfunctional family or is just a linguistic adaptation with no social significance depends on who you talk to.  What’s not in debate, though, is that Westerners are easily misled by the cozy way all Vietnamese of good breeding will treat them, so watch out!  No race or nationality is all good or all bad, and none is really this accommodating to everyone they meet.  The list above is just the tip of the iceberg.  For one thing, how do real parents and children refer to each other?

The Vietnamese word for “child” or “offspring” is “con,” which can be used for little animals as well as children (though once again, don’t read too much into that).  And here are some words for the parents:

  • Mommy can be either Má or Mẹ in Southern or Northern Vietnamese dialects respectively.  There are some other, less female-friendly terms you’ll come across if you really hunt for them, but stick with these tried-and-true “mom” words.
  • Pappa or Daddy is either ba (yes, just like the word for “three”) or bố, while cha is really more a word for father to be used to talk about him to others, as in: “my father.”  The parents will call their kids “con,” while the kids will respond with whatever pronoun their family’s used to – declaring their region of origin to all and sundry.  Once you get the idea that the words for “you” and “me” change depending on who you’re talking to, using this family-based system is a great way to get close to your new Vietnamese friends, so long as you keep what I said above (about nobody really being that angelic) in mind.

So, is there truly no neutral first-person pronoun?  And where’s the possessive set hiding?  The good news is that there is no such thing as person or number agreement in Vietnamese, so there’s no need for a second set of personal pronouns.  Add the word của (like our ‘s construction) in front of the pronoun to form possessives: “của ông” (‘yours – said to grandpa), “của cô,” “của con,” etc.

And yes, after all this claiming there’s no neutral pronoun in Vietnamese it’s time for me to let you in on a little secret: the word tôi – pronounced exactly like our “toy.”  It literally means “Your Humble Servant,” and was used by mandarins in reporting to the king.  In case you’re interested, the king would call himself Trẫm – now try finding an appropriate context to use that one these days!!!!!  It’s probably OK to call yourself tôi to shopkeepers and government employees you hope never to see again – it’s a cold, emotionally bleached form of address exactly because it opts out of the convoluted system above, implying you don’t want to lock yourself into any ongoing social interchange, since if you would you’d be willing to define regular social roles for your relationship.  You’ll also hear English pronouns inserted in such contexts sometimes – a jarring reminder that one of the most important things living in the West offers the Vietnamese is liberation from all that rigid hierarchy stuff.

There’re some other interesting things about the Vietnamese system of personal reference that you’ll learn sooner or later – like how to refer to third parties or what to call your spouse or significant other.  There’s also a whole system of regular divergences from these norms (called vai vế) used in the most common special situations condoned by tradition.  Finally, “tao” and “mày” are two words for “me” and “you” that you should most definitely avoid right now because they’re derogatory.  Just as American guy friends can insult each other affectionately, they can do it in Vietnamese, too.  This is definitely not something you should initiate.  But by all means chime in if it feels right.

The Vietnamese system of personal reference, then, is both easier and harder than the one we use in English.  It reflects different sociocultural priorities, but accomplishes the same basic things as any pronoun system: keeping the participants straight and the "story" of communication flowing.  Once again we see that something which started out looking exotic makes great sense once you know what it's based on.  Good luck in learning Vietnamese, and until next time: tạm biệt qúy vị.