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The woman welcomed the blonde-haired child with both hands, lifting her up as a male waiter approached, waving and making funny faces to make her laugh. “That is how she makes friends with hundreds of Vietnamese people,” Murphy, who lives in Hoa Xuan Ward in Cam Le District, says.

The scene is in stark contrast with the British man’s shock nine months earlier, when strangers stroked his daughter’s cheeks or hugged her, behavior he had never encountered at home. Murphy and his wife run a small business in London. In 2024, when their daughter was six months old, they decided to work remotely while taking her on a journey around the world.

They first settled in Dubai. Although the city offered a convenient lifestyle, the extreme desert heat kept the family indoors. He suggested relocating to Southeast Asia, where their daughter could enjoy nature and a milder climate. Initially they chose Thailand. But just weeks before the trip a video about Vietnam caught their attention, prompting a change of plans. They decided to head for Da Nang, a place with beaches, mountains and a reputation as “the most livable city” in Vietnam.

In September 2024 the family arrived in Vietnam with no fixed plans, only an intention to explore. And surprises began to unfold. The first, he says, was the traffic, which he describes as “very chaotic” but also “somehow organized.” Motorbikes were everywhere, lanes were unclear and vehicles moved in all directions.

In the first two weeks the couple tried to decipher the “invisible logic” that somehow allowed people to cross streets safely. A friend explained they simply needed to blend into the flow, walk slowly and confidently and trust that Vietnamese people always look out for one another on the road. In his neighborhood, he enjoyed observing daily life and was struck by the strong sense of community. Neighbors gathered for meals, and shopkeepers always remembered his name, making him feel “a true sense of belonging.”

What surprised the couple most was how Vietnamese people interacted with children. The security guard at their apartment building would smile and high-five Aoife each time he saw her. When they passed shops, people would stop the couple just to ask to give Aoife a hug and offer her fruit. Passersby on the street greeted her, gently stroked her hair, and restaurant staff often carried her around the kitchen.

“At first I felt a bit anxious and uneasy,” he says. At home, strangers rarely engage with children because it is considered unusual, something only family members do. But he and his wife never refused the interaction and only stood nearby, simply observing, as their little girl showed no fear, only laughter and delight.

He went online to learn more and discovered that such warmth was rooted in Vietnamese traditions, where people are genuinely kind and affectionate toward children, a realization that reminded him of the saying, “It takes a village to raise a child.” “The locals here have changed the way I think about parenting,” he says.

The couple decided to stay in Vietnam for the long term. But during Aoife’s weaning phase, her parents were concerned about food safety. In the UK, when ordering chicken, they have the options of wings, thighs or breast, but in Vietnam, parts they had never considered before, like head, feet and even heart, were on the menu. Initially they were shocked, but gave it a try. Within two months it became part of a normal meal for the family.

Murphy and his daughter Aoife. Photo courtesy of the family

They adopted the Vietnamese parenting philosophy of “never overcomplicating things.” Aoife ate the same food as her parents, vegetables and meat bought at the local market and limited processed food. “We felt reassured because it was all fresh and locally grown,” Murphy says.

They expanded Aoife’s palate by introducing a variety of foods, including durian, a fruit often considered challenging for western tastes. As she began learning to walk, the couple unexpectedly made more Vietnamese friends.

They often passed a small coffee shop near home run by a family with four generations of members. The first time he stopped for a drink, the owner brought out fruit for Aoife to try and gave her a toy. A few days later he returned with biscuits. They sat together around a round table enjoying the snack and chatted via Google Translate. On their third visit he was surprised when the family invited them for banh canh, Vietnamese thick noodle soup. “They told us, ‘Consider us your family,’” he recounts.

After half a year in Da Nang he says he has realized how important family is in Vietnamese culture. Children in his country are often glued to phones and TVs, but here parks are full of kids playing outside, and parents patiently wait for them, he says. He still remembers how in the U.K. letting a child cry in public can make parents feel ashamed or anxious. He often sees comments online from people saying they never want to travel or fly with babies because it is a hassle. “But in Vietnam, if your child cries, people will come help,” he says. They smile and try to soothe the child, which deeply impresses him.

These experiences gave the couple confidence to enroll Aoife in a local kindergarten, where teachers and classmates all speak Vietnamese. At first they struggled with the early start time. But the British dad soon found himself turning into a typical Vietnamese dad, waking up early, taking his daughter to school, going to a coffee shop nearby, then heading to work a few kilometers away, and picking the child up at the end of the day.

Aoife learned to walk and spoke her first words in the city. Two weeks ago, meeting her father after school, she softly said “go home” in Vietnamese.

“Her language now blends English and Vietnamese, and we are happy with that,” he says.

“She is now happier and more confident, having been welcomed as a daughter by many Vietnamese families.”