TALLAHASSEE, Fla. – Ashley Arthur Saddler Jr. never really set out to become a global citizen. But when the Florida A&M University architecture graduate student stepped off a plane in Hanoi, Vietnam—after a whirlwind 26-hour journey that included a layover in Qatar and a language boot camp in Wisconsin—it hit him.

“I was slightly surprised, but I was still on the plane,” Saddler said, recalling his first glimpse of Hanoi through the window. “It’s really once I got into the van that they came to pick us up with that I was like, ‘Wow, I’m really here in Vietnam.’”

From Jacksonville to Hanoi

Saddler, a Jacksonville native and first-generation American with Caribbean roots (his father and brother hails from St. Thomas in the U.S. Virgin Islands (USVI), his mother from Antigua), spent the fall 2024 semester abroad as a recipient of the prestigious Boren Award—an initiative through the U.S. Department of Defense aimed at deepening language skills and cultural understanding.

A former cadet and current Second Lieutenant in Army ROTC, Saddler had not yet become a world traveler, sharing that this was his first international trip requiring a passport. “I’ve only visited the USVI, and so I had never actually gone out of the US,” he said.

Before Vietnam, though, came the training. Saddler had to make pit stops across America: a crash course on foreign affairs in D.C. and two months of rigorous Vietnamese language study in Wisconsin, where he clocked around 40+ hours of classes and studying a week.

 “I looked up a bunch of things about Vietnam because I wasn’t sure which program I wanted to apply for out of the three in Southeast Asia,” he said. “I picked Vietnamese, not knowing how difficult the language was. I investigated the culture, the people, some of the religious practices, the cities—everything else except what the language would entail.”

The language could be described as brutal. Saddler explained that Vietnamese is tonal, and pronunciation can shift meaning entirely.

“Chào is how they say hello. But you could say ‘Cháu, Chào,’ which is like, ‘hello, when speaking to a younger person 30+ your minor,’” he explained. “And sometimes words like “ma, mã, má, mã" can mean “ghost, horse, mother or code. What the word means could be completely different based on your tone shift.”

Still, out of six students in his cohort, Saddler was one of five who completed his courses and moved on to Southeast Asia. “I passed with an A, but I feel like I passed with a high D,” he joked.

A Second Family, A Second Home

Once there, Saddler was welcomed into a spacious five-story home with a mostly handcrafted hardwood interior.  It had five bedrooms, three full bathrooms and even an elevator to assist the live-in grandmother. It was there he would spend six months as a member of the first cohort in Vietnam.

“It was an amazing house. One of the most beautiful houses I’ve been in,” he said.

Like many in Vietnamese culture, his host family lived together across generations. The father was a driving instructor and military veteran. The mother practiced law. Aside from the elderly matriarch, his host sister, brother, sister-in-law, and grandchild also lived there. The preferred method of transportation was a motorbike; the family had five or six, including two vehicles.

By day, Saddler attended the local University of Languages and International Studies (ULIS) and took Vietnamese-speaking courses. “We were in class for two hours, a break, then another two hours, then two-hour tutoring sessions” he said. “Some professors spoke better English than others, but we rarely spoke English in class.”

He quickly found that learning Vietnamese was not just about memorizing vocabulary but about restructuring how he thought. “They always have their questions usually at the end. So, if it’s a ‘why,’ they’ll ask, ‘You ran over there, why?’”

When classes ended, his education continued on the streets of Hanoi, where he immersed himself in a culture vastly different from what he knew but sometimes oddly familiar. The capital city reminded him of the Big Apple—but a Southeast Asian version like Tokyo.

“It felt a little bit more like New York because I was in Hanoi, the capital,” he said. “But it was also at a smaller scale… architecture similar to the Bronx, Brooklyn that type of vibe, and everything was so compact.”

Saddler toured his surroundings, practiced Vietnamese with the locals, worked out at a gym, and shared dinners with his new kinfolk. “We tried everything sooner or later. The ice cream is amazing over there. The food is so healthy,” he said.

Saddler sampled traditional dishes like phở gà, the Vietnamese version of chicken noodle soup, and gỏi cuốn, fresh spring rolls, along with a kaleidoscope of tropical fruits, some unrecognizable, all unforgettable.

Pirates of the Caribbean?

“Doing it somewhat alone, somewhat with other people, but also being the only African American person in the inaugural cohort... it was tough,” he said. “They assumed I was from Africa. And when I said I’m Caribbean American, they were like, ‘Oh, Pirates of the Caribbean.’ Because they had no idea besides those two things,” he explained.

Despite those moments, Saddler never felt unwelcome or treated differently from his peers. In fact, his most memorable times include the interactions with his host family and the various people he encountered. 

“I met non-Vietnamese people as well as Vietnamese people. I even met people who spoke four to five languages, but Vietnamese wasn't one of them. They were there just to teach English,” explained Saddler. “Living with my host family was pretty much like getting another whole family. That's why I speak about them the way that I do. Because I don't know them as host family. I know them as mom (má), dad (bố), etc. Because after week two, they were like, call me “Bố, má". So, it solidified our dynamic of open-mindedness and understanding.”

When asked if he would do it again—long flights, intense studying, culture shock—Saddler answered without hesitation.  

“Definitely. I want to do it again before I graduate with my master's in architecture. So, probably toward the end of my degree,” he said. “But yes, I’d definitely do it again.”  

Saddler’s storytelling is layered with the kind of insight that comes from living the experience—not just in location but in mindset. From the McDonalds that served grilled pork rice, mcpork and white rice to the sacred alter room—"Phòng thờ”—atop the host family’s home, every detail speaks to embracing a global perspective for personal growth.

For six months, Saddler didn’t just observe the culture. He adapted. He respected. He belonged. 

Disclaimer: This article was edited with the assistance of ChatGPT, an AI language model developed by OpenAI. All content was reviewed and finalized by the author to ensure accuracy and authenticity.

Media Contact:

Rachel James-Terry
Senior Director of Strategic Communications
rachel.jamesterry@famu.edu 

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