When her vehicle's license plate came off during a snowy winter, Nga contacted her boyfriend Paul Vainio for assistance, but he did not arrive, a reaction that contrasted sharply with how Vietnamese men might typically respond.
I was shocked," Nga says. "In Vietnam, a man would immediately step in to assist in such a situation.
Three years ago, Nga, who is now 36, chose to leave her position as an HR director in Ho Chi Minh City and relocate to Finland with her daughter to pursue studies in education, as her daughter began third grade.
A week after her arrival, she encountered Vainio, a naval officer who was a year older than her, at a friend's birthday gathering. Their relationship began somewhat "out of sync," she recalls. He would send Nga messages in the morning, only to vanish in the evening, or respond briefly and then go quiet. Accustomed to the talkative nature of Vietnamese men, she believed he wasn't serious and removed his contact information.
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| Nga and Vainio in the historic town of Porvoo, Finland, September 2024. Photo provided by Nga |
Three months later, on Christmas Day, Vainio unexpectedly sent her a message: "Do you remember me?" She was then confined to bed with a severe fever caused by COVID-19. Upon learning this, he traveled almost 100 kilometers to deliver her medication.
When they met, he inquired why she had ceased responding to his messages. She openly explained the Vietnamese cultural norms, in which men usually take the initiative in pursuing and wooing women.
Vainio mentioned that in Finland, it doesn't matter who initiates actions, and that his job frequently prevents him from texting constantly.
Similarly, in my country, people remain quiet when there's nothing pressing to talk about," he explained. "It's a method of reflecting, listening, and connecting with the environment surrounding you.
For the first time, Nga understood that silence can also serve as a means of expression.
As they became more familiar with one another, they started going out on dates, yet cultural differences remained significant. The most surprising aspect was that Finnish women frequently shoveled snow, changed tires, and fixed cars on their own, which she found extremely challenging.
Following several unsuccessful efforts to secure his assistance, one day when her car with low ground clearance became trapped in the snow, she had no choice but to clearly state to Vainio: "I need you to help."
Cultural differences emerged once more six months into their relationship when Vainio proposed they move in together without tying the knot.
"Love exists between two individuals and doesn't require validation through marriage," he stated.
However, for Nga, brought up in a culture that emphasizes family, cohabitation before marriage was considered inappropriate, and he agreed with her reasoning.
"I'll take actions that put you at ease," he said to her.
However, he later also mentioned to her that occasionally he found their differences confusing. Matters became more clear during his initial visit to Vietnam.
At home, even as an adult, she is treated with care by her parents and younger brother, whereas I was taught to be independent from an early age," he says. "I came to understand that she sought assistance not because she was weak, but as a way to experience love.
While spending time with her relatives, he adopted local traditions, rolling his trousers above his ankles to sit on the ground, struggling to use chopsticks, and carrying trays, which caused everyone to laugh.
"When I shared our country's history with him and brought him to pay respects to the fallen heroes, he quickly learned how to bow," Nga says.
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| Nga and Vainio during their wedding in Finland in October 2024. Photo provided by Nga |
In October 2024, they celebrated their wedding in Finland. Prior to the ceremony, he inquired about how household finances are handled in Vietnam.
In Vietnamese culture, a husband typically hands over his entire salary to his wife," she said to him. "Even though I can manage financially on my own, being entrusted with the money makes me feel appreciated.
In Finland, couples share financial responsibilities equally, based on mutually agreed percentages, with each individual using their own funds. However, Vainio chose to follow the Vietnamese approach.
Both are shy and share a passion for the outdoors, she mentions, describing an early date when he took her ice fishing at a river.
It was extremely cold, yet we managed to catch fish and then set them free. The sense of being deeply connected to the natural world was truly enchanting.
While Vainio is serving in the military, she and her child reside in Turku, located in southwest Finland. On his days off, they all travel to Pyhämaa, a seaside village 100 kilometers away, where he engages in boating, fishing, and hunting, while she collects wildflowers, fruits, and fungi. Each year, the family spends a month on vacation in either Vietnam or Lapland, northern Finland, which is Vainio's native region.
After three years, Nga now realizes that people from the Nordic region dislike noise, try not to disturb others, and appreciate personal space. On the other hand, Vainio has adapted to Vietnamese culture, embracing taking the lead in relationships, "being the provider," and looking after his wife and her child.
A recent afternoon in their new house saw Vainio holding his wife as he looked out the window. Outside, the sun illuminated the green grass and blooming apple trees, laden with fruit.
He murmured to his spouse, "I'll do everything so that one day you experience Finland as your home as well."