It's Electric!

I just taught the electric slide to 20 Vietnamese students in the lobby of a classroom building. I'm wondering where, exactly, were "dance lessons" included in my contract? I'm assuming somewhere in the small print, under the heading "Boogie Woogie Woogie Woogie". And right beside "Singing for Large Groups of People".

While my students are learning the Electric Slide (did I mention I hate that dance?), I'm learning a few more practical things. For example, how to wake up the house manager to let you in the building at midnight or later. They lock my building with a padlock from the inside at around 11pm, so there's no other choice but to knock on the window or rattle the door until the poor guy drags himself out of bed. It would be more logical, I feel, to put a regular lock on the door and give a key to all the residents, but I dont think I have a say in the matter.

I've also learned that the Yasaka hotel, a little 4-star joint in the city, has poor security and the following amenities: free bike parking, two beautiful swimming pools (including one on a roof that overlooks the sea), a bar on the roof of the 11th floor (also overlooking the sea), and nice Western-style toilets in the lobby.

I've learned that this city changes after midnight. The other evening, I was on my way home and passed a large group of men in camoflauge emerging from the brush along the shore; they were carrying big clubs and seemed to be looking for something or someone. I biked more quickly and hoped they wouldn't stop to ask why, exactly, I was coming home so late by myself. Then, last night, I'm pretty sure I passed several groups of people doing drugs. One guy yelled "Lady, I love you!" as I peddled by....

And I've learned that lying on the beach at night, looking up at the stars, with no other company than a cup of bubble tea and my bike, is about as close to bliss as you can get.

Guess who made the front page of the US Embassy website?

We did! Scroll down to "Vietnamese Students Get Glimpse of American College Life".

http://vietnam.usembassy.gov/

Mark your calendars!

Sam's new album, WAY TO NORMAL, will be in a store near you next Tuesday, 30 September! Then, on Thursday, 2 October, he'll be performing on Conan O'Brien. Tune in, because I can't!

And, I just went to log in to Myspace and found that the Folds album premiere was featured on the main page.

Things like the Myspace page feature make me feel closer to the excitement of the album release, but nevertheless I'm a bit sad to be missing the Conan performance and such.

I can't believe that the album will be out next week. On one hand, it feels like they were just recording yesterday. But on the other hand, that part of my life feels so far and distant from my life now....

How far is that from Smallville?

Business is picking up! I'm getting a lot busier now that all of my classes are meeting (my Mon/Tue classes have been canceled for the past two weeks). This week I'm also busy with preparations for English Club, which will meet at 7:30 am this coming Sunday. Yep. Bright and early Sunday morning. Because every weeknight and every Saturday is occupied with classes. (Katherine, in fact, was asked to teach a class on Saturday nights from 6pm until 9pm. She said no.)

Putting on the English Club, which normally draws some 200 students, is a lot of work. The English department and 4th year English majors are helping, though. My primary responsibility is organizing an activity about American Independence Day. I also have to help teach a song to the club goers. Just go ahead and imagine me teaching "Yankee Doodle" to 200 Vietnamese students at 7:30 on a Sunday morning. I can't decided if this is a step up or down from doing "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes".

My Monday and Tuesday classes going well, not surprisingly. (I say not surprisingly because everything in my life seems to be going well.) They're both classes with English major students, which means the classes are smaller, much more advanced, and mainly girls. Quite a big jump from my classes of 50 to 60 boys who catch about 30% of everything I say. Another difference from my non-major classes is that neither of my English major classes asked me to sing, nor did they ask personal questions about my romantic status. Instead, they asked me to give tips on reducing the stress of university life. And one boy, after hearing that I live in Nashville (I went with that because I thought it might sound more interesting than Lawrenceburg), asked me how far it was from Smallville. "As in, Smallville the TV show?", I asked. Yes, Smallville the TV show, he meant. The poor boy seemed really disappointed to learn that the town was fictional. I wonder if he thinks the events in "Smallville" are real, too? Surely not...

I'm starting to feel excited about having more work to do. It's really easy here for me to stay in a semi-vacation mode, and although that's been nice for the past few weeks, it's feeling good to be productive and helpful. I'm in a position to be quite helpful here--not that I'm smarter, or more knowledgeable, or here to "save" their English program. They're just short-staffed in the English department, which is, furthermore, only a year old. And in learning a language, it's always helpful to have a native speaker on hand. Finding a good line between work and play, though, is proving a bit difficult. I could work all day, every day, and still find more to do. Or I could just skimp on my work and go to the beach every day. Ms. Hong, my boss, always reminds me that I will face "many challenges" in Viet Nam because it's a developing country. Until now, I've assured her that I'm not really having any challenges. But today, as she was telling me for 100th time about "challenges", I wanted to say, "Yes, there is one big challenge--it's that beach right over there!!" I want to enjoy living in Vietnam, and I also want to contribute and be useful in the way that university needs me. I'm sure that after another week or two I'll strike a good balance, though.

I think part of the balance will involve soaking up every ounce of weekend, especially when they're as wonderful as mine was this last weekend. I had such a great time that I hardly remembered I'd planned to go to Hue. Saturday found me up and out at 6:30 am to get coffee with friends and go to Duan's tae kwon do competition, which was supposed to be at 8am. We waited until 10 before learning that his match had been rescheduled for 2. Katherine and I used the free time to scout out a new vegetarian restaurant, which was delicious, and a new bubble tea place, which we've confirmed is the best in the city.

Duan in his uniform

Duan kicking butt!

Duan getting pointers from his coach in between rounds

A tiny kitten in the vegetarian restaurant. I shouldn't really be touching animals, but I couldn't resist this one!

I also found my way (quite by accident) into what I call "Vietnamese Bracelet Torture": There are these little green jade bracelets that are really popular here. They're solid--they dont have a clasp or anything, so you just have to slide them over your hand. But the style/tradition is to wear the smallest ones possible, which means that putting them on involves scrunching your hand up to a painful degree while someone forces the bracelet over your hand. A teacher here was wearing one of the bracelets and told me about the process, but I didn't fully realize how painful it is until I stumbled upon the bracelets in a littler store and impulsively decided to go for it. It's a bit of a commitment because once the bracelet is on, you have to break it to get it off. But the bracelets are only about 3 dollars and very Vietnamese, so I decided it was worth it. The woman in the shop, a tiny Vietnamese lady in her 60s probably (and who was wearing one of the said bracelets), went and got a bowl of soapy water and her husband to help. She squatted down on the floor, and I did the same. After splashing soap water on my hand, she folded my hand in half and started pulling the bracelet down over my hand while her husband held my fingers and pulled them the other way. It was like they were playing tug of war. But it hurt like HELL. This went on for several minutes and finally I couldn't take it anymore. The pain was excruciating, between my hand being folded in half and the bracelet scraping against my bones. I was almost crying, squeezing Katherine's hand so much that she was probably in as much pain as I was.... I was yelling at the woman to stop, and trying to pull my hand away, but she REFUSED to let my hand go. There I was, writhing in agony as my torturer tried to fit the tiny jade bracelet over my hand. Finally, after much screaming on my part and Katherine's, I escaped. The woman went to get more soap, but I politely declined and walked away. My hand was sore and bruised, but it's getting better now. I'd still really like to have one of the bracelets, but I think I just need one a tiny bit bigger. Once my hand heals I'll give it another shot. In the mean time, this was (after the fact, at least) one of the strangest and most hilarious experiences I've had here...

all fun and games...

...until it really starts to hurt.....

...and despite my physical efforts, the old woman won't let go of my hand...

victory in escaping, failure in putting on the bracelet

Sunday, Katherine and I met Inaki at Louisiane beach. There, we also ran into Maryanne and her husband, Chris. I love running into people here--in the market, in the city, at the beach. It makes me feel like such a resident! It was a gorgeous day, maybe the best since I've been here. And I managed to avoid another full-body sunburn! (I'm still peeling from the last one, actually).

On Sunday evening we went for ice cream with Tu and Duan to celebrate the latter's second-place win at the tae kwon do competition. Katherine and I insisted on paying, since we were celebrating Duan's victory. After sternly forbidding him to pay, we learned that in Vietnamese culture, it's traditional for the "winner" to pay, not the other way around, like in America. If we weren't such good friends, I would have been worried about offending him. Oh, the triumphs and tragedies of cultural exchange!


During our celebratory ice cream outing, I also had my first experience with durian. It's a foul-smelling and tasting fruit that Vietnamese people seem to love. In fact, they love it so much, they make durian ice cream. If anyone can explain to me the appeal of ice cream made from a fruit that tastes like rotten eggs, I would be eternally grateful. Durian is one of two things here that I actively dislike; the other is an herb with a strong fish flavor. Eew!

I'm trying to soak up what could be the last sunny days for a while. It seems to be hotter than ever, though, so I've been trying to get up earlier (by 7am) to take advantage of the "cool" mornings. Evening bike rides into the city are becoming a favorite activity for me, as well. It's just too hot to be out and about and midday--unless you're at the beach!

I've also just discovered the beauty of Project Gutenberg. I just finished reading "The Metamorphosis", which I somehow missed in high school and was able to download from Gutenberg. Next up is "Through the Looking Glass", and I'm still working my way through "A Room of One's Own." Vietnam is as good a place as any to catch up on American classics, right?

In closing, I can't remember the last time I had a bad day. And I really, really like that feeling.

Scratch that. No Hue, after all.

Despite all the packing, portable-dinner making, and planning, I'm still in Nha Trang and will not make it to Hue this weekend. I'm disappointed, of course, but I think this situation worked out for the best.

When I booked my bus ticket to leave Nha Trang at 7pm, Tu and Duan told me that I would arrive in Hue at 7am the next morning. The 12-hour bus ride seemed tolerable since I had booked a sleeper seat, and since it would allow me to have all of Friday in Hue. But, last night, when Tu and Duan were walking me to the bus pick-up, Duan informed me that I wouldn't arrive until noon. I was pretty frustrated. First, 17 hours on the bus sounded miserable. Second, I was losing almost half a day in Hue, and I didn't have much time to begin with. Third, the fact that the bus ride was 17 hours meant that I would have to leave Hue early Sunday morning--not Sunday afternoon/evening--to get back in time for my 7am class. I was therefore losing another half-day in Hue. I would now only have a day and a half in Hue. If I had know all this before booking the ticket, I wouldn't have booked it. I suddenly found myself more frustrated than I've ever been sincing arriving in Viet Nam. And, to make it worse, I didn't even really want to go anymore, given the new conditions of the trip.

Deciding to just suck it up and be happy about seeing my friends in Hue, I tried to revert into easy-going Viet Nam attitude. I sat down on the side walk and managed to calm myself down while I waited for the bus to arrive. It was about 6:45. I was calm until 7. I was calm until 7:05, 7:10, and even until 7:15. Duan had talked to the driver to confirm the pick-up spot, so I knew the bus was coming. And it was a beautiful night, so sitting outside with three friends didn't seem too bad. But as 7:20, and then 7:30 rolled around, I realized that my arrival time in Hue was being pushed later and later, and at this point, every minute in Hue was precious. I felt myself getting frustrated again. 7:40, 7:45 came and passed. Duan called the driver again. He was "coming". But he'd been coming for the last 45 minutes, and I my frustration level was rising. At five 'til 8, I decided that if the bus didn't come by 8:05, I wasn't going, especially if I could get my money back. By this time I wouldn't arrive in Hue until at least 1pm. The whole trip suddenly seemed so impractical--the amount of time and money I was spending, for the amount of time I would have in Hue.

At 8:20, the bus finally pulled up. We had been waiting for almost an hour and a half. I insisted to Tu that I wanted my money back, because the bus company had messed up. Tu talked to the driver and attendant to figure out how, and if, I could get my money back (although at that point I was ready to forfeit the 17 dollars just to save the other hundred dollars I would spending on the trip). The driver was a total asshole to Tu, yelling at him, impatiently trying to get the bus attendant, who had gotten off the bus to talk to Tu and help me, back on the bus so they could get back on the road. My frustration level increased. The exchanges between the driver and Tu were clearly tense, and clearly about me, but I couldn't understand a word. After a few minutes of chaotic exchanges between Tu, the driver, and the attendant, the bus pulled off without me.

I'm disappointed about not seeing Becca and Jahmila this weekend--I was really looking forward to catching up with them. But they both live really close to Hue, and Becca especially will make several trips to the city. It seemed to me, then, that this weekend was not a "now or never" situation. And, on another long weekend, perhaps when I just have one more day, I can make the trip happen.

Becca and I also talked last night about spending several weeks traveling through central Vietnam during Tet holiday. We have our midyear meeting in Danang in early December, at which point I'll already be in central Vietnam and traveling around the area will be easier. Plus, Fulbright will pay for my transportation to Danang, which reduces some of my expense.

And, I'm 98% sure I'll be able to get my money back. Tu and Duan are taking me today to the ticket counter to work it out. I really dont know what I would do without those boys! I am so thankful for them. They're graduating in December, and I will be so sad to see them go.

I have a nice weekend planned in Nha Trang, as well. Last night Katherine and I, after realizing that our favorite vegetarian sandwich stall was closed, picked up some of that corn/coconut/mung bean concoction that we have for breakfast sometimes, and ate it for dinner over glasses of che at the coffee shop across the street from our building. It was a gorgeous evening, and a relaxing "dinner" after the whole debaucle with the bus to Hue.

Today I have Vietnamese lessons, and tonight Katherine and I are getting together with Inyaki, the Spanish(Galician)-born prof who now lives in Norway with his significant other but is teaching a masters class at Nha Trang University. That, my friends, is the kind of life I want. Maybe he can give me some pointers.

Other plans for the weekend include lots of reading, beaching, and class preparing.

I'm also starting to think about some other things I want to be doing while I'm here. I'm trying to find some volunteer opportunities, especially with women and children's issues. I'd like to plan some research, as well, but I have no idea how to go about doing it when I don't speak the language, don't have a translater, and dont know the appropriate avenues for investigating reproductive rights in Viet Nam. The issue could be touchy here, and I don't want to step on toes or (worse) get deported or anything.

My biggest issue these days is figuring out how I can be most useful during my time here, especially in any kind of sustainable way. Since I'll only be here for 9 months, I dont think I can start-up a new non-profit or anything. But I can help in small ways, and I think that's what I should focus on.

Weekend in Hue

I'm off for the weekend! Looking forward to spending time with old friends, and visiting some old (ancient!) imperial sites....

There's a bird nest on my moquito net!

Fortunately, the past week has been 95% sunny. Unfortunately, the pleasant weather (along with increased work responsibilities) has pushed blogging further down my list of priorities. At any moment, monsoon rains could start again, and I've been trying to take advantage of the freedom and mobility that sunny days allow.

A bit of an update, though. The Full Moon Celebration was a huge success. (All the photos are at picasaweb.google.com/malloryimlervn). I bought lots of food, Katherine helped me prepare everything, Tu and Duan took care of lanterns, kites, and sparklers. I invited the entire building, and nearly everyone came--even the family with three small children that lives down the hall! We therefore had people from America, Vietnam, Bangladesh, and Ecuador. We ate some fruit and cakes in my room before heading to the beach, where we celebrated by singing, dancing, playing games, lighting sparklers and lanterns, and attempting (ie, failing) to release some large, flying lanterns into the sky. The beach was full of people gathered in circles around candles and bonfires. Luckily the night was clear, warm with a breeze. The weather couldn't have been more perfect, and I can't remember the last time I went to the beach at night.... As I stood on the shore with my new friends, toes in the sand and watching flying lanterns being released to the full moon (by more successful beach-goers), I again found myself thinking, "How is this my life???"

Classes are going really well. My two English major classes have been canceled the past two weeks because the students are working with a visiting professor, so I've just been meeting with my three non-major English classes. Two of the classes are all boys (about 50 of them), and one class has nearly 50 boys and 5 or 6 girls. A skewed ratio, but I guess that's what I should have expected with naval architecture and IT students. After singing "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" in the first class, I thought things couldn't get any more embarrassing. But then, in my third class, the students were asking me questions in English to get to know me (and practice their english!), and one boy stood up and asked me out in front of the entire class. The fact that I had a boyfriend (he'd already covered that question) didn't seem to matter. In fact, when I turned him down, he proceeded to ask a series of questions about Sam. There was no stopping the guy!

I've managed to avoid giving out my mobile number to many students, thankfully (and despite persistent requests from the boy who asked me out). Other Fulbrighters have been bombarded with texts and calls from students, many of whom they don't know or don't even have in class. Apparently their phone numbers have just been circulated through the student body. When asked for my number in class, I just smile and say "It's a secret!" ( a great tip I got from Katherine).

Katherine and I have been doing some more exploring, as well. We visited the Po Nagar Cham Towers (pics also on picasa), which were stunning. The site is actually about 4 minutes from where I live, and I walk by it several times a week, but only got around to visiting this weekend. I can't believe I live so close to such a place. We also made it to Long Son Pagoda (a bit by accident, and only after first stumbling into a different/wrong pagoda and interrupting some monks' lunch). At Long Son, we found a great vegetarian restaurant. I was wearing a sleeveless top, though, and felt uncomfortable going into the actual pagoda, so that activity was postponed.

We've also been doing some biking, which has been nice exercise for me. Katherine gets up everymorning and goes running and swimming at 5:30 am. Not surprisingly, I don't join her.

I've befriended a visiting professor from Ho Chi Minh City, who's here for the week. He joined our Moon Celebration, and the next day, invited me to go swimming at the "sea beach" with him. I accepted, insisting that Katherine tag along. At the designated hour, we met to go to the beach, but it had started raining a bit. Intending to get wet anyway, we ignored the rain and carried on with our plan. The rain made me hesitant, but had I backed out of the plan, I would have missed another "How is this my life?" moment: We got to the beach at dusk. It had stopped raining, but the clouds--always epic here--continued to swirl above us in shades of gray, a combination of rainclouds and the impending nightfall. Hardly anyone was at the beach. I swam out, a little aways from my friends, and I lied floating on my back, arms outstretched, staring up at the sky. The water around my face eliminated my peripheral vision, so that all I could see was a patch of sky above me, the gray clouds catching the last flashes of sunlight and shifting further into darkness. And all I could hear, with my ears submerged in the sea, was the muffled sounds of the tide coming ad going, lapping against my face. My senses detected nothing but sky and water as I floated at dusk in the Pacific Ocean, and I wondered how I could have possibly come to be there, in that perfect moment. When I finally pulled myself out of the water--it was dark--I sat on the beach and enjoyed some bubble tea that we'd brought to the "sea beach" with us. The sense of awe continued.

On a lighter note, I had less perfect, but more comical, "How is this my life?" moment this morning. Last week I realized that a bird was building a nest in the fan of my AC. The fan is in the wall above my bed, and opens to the outside without a screen or anything to keep out creatures. Not wanting a bird's nest in my AC fan (for lots of reasons, bird flu and noise being two), I checked to make sure there were no eggs or babies, and when the bird was gone, I turned the fan on to prevent it from coming back. I felt bad for evicting the poor bird from its otherwise well-selected home (it was shielded from the rain and elements, as it was half-way in my room), but I'm just not that hospitable. I thought the problem was solved. But the past few days, the fan has been hitting the twigs of the half-built nest and making lots of noise. In an effort to stop the noise, last night I climbed up on my bed and began to tap the face of the fan with Katherine's mosquito zapping racket. After a few taps, the face of the fan fell off. I managed to catch it right as it started to fall, but the nest started to fall out as well. There I was, alone, stranded, standing on the headboard of my bed, using both hands to hold up the face of the fan and prevent the nest from falling entirely into my room. Finally I got the face of the fan back into place somewhat, but I could tell it was a temporary fix that I'd have to deal with again in the morning.

Morning comes. I open my eyes and see that the top of my mosquito net is littered with twigs, leaves, and bird feathers. I roll over and see that the face of the fan has fallen and is virtually in my bed, right next to my head. (Luckily, the mosquito net kept it from falling entirely into my bed.) Then, I look up to find that the rest of the nest, of course, is dangling precariously from the fan, in my room. And this is what I think, while chuckling at my unique predicament and carefully climbing out from under by mosquito net: "There's a bird's next in my room (half on my mosquito net!) and fan on my pillow. How is this my life?"

I decided that I would wait to deal with the problem for 20 minutes until Tu and Duan came to meet me and 9am, and could talk to the house manager for me. When the boys arrived, though, and I pointed out my problem, they jumped into action themselves. Duan climed up on my headboard and pulled down the remains of the bird's nest himself, using a chopstick (not just for eating and repairing sinks!) to scrape out the littlest pieces. Tu swept up the mess on the floor. Then Duan, seeing how dirty (ie, almost furry) the fan was, picked it up from my bed, took it into the bathroom and washed it 'til it shined. Afterwards, he put it back up, and moved by bed back into its proper location. What friends. (Photos of all of this will be on picasa soon :)

The reason that the boys were coming at 9 was to help me book a bus ticket to Hue. After ridding my AC fan and room of bird's nest, they walked me to a little kiosk near campus and did all the necessary talking for me to reserve a seat on the bus. I really dont' know what I would do without them. But do know that I might still have a a bird's nest on my mosquito net, and I might not have a bus ticket! They're even walking me to the bus stop tomorrow night, since I dont' know where it is.

The bus ticket, furthermore, is for my first weekend trip!! I'm going to Hue after class on Thursday, on the bus to meet some Fulbright friends. The trip is 12 hours, but I'm going on an overnight bus and I reserved a sleeper. I'm hoping it will be just like sleeping on a tour bus again. :) I'm excited to do some traveling, and I'm sooo excited to see Becca and Jahmila again!! Fulbright reunion, part one!

In literary news, I just finished a book called THE GIRL IN THE PICTURE, by Denise Chong, about the famous photo of the little girl running after being burned by napalm. The book chronicles the life of the girl, Kim Phuc, including information about her family, the political/war events, and even the photographers and journalists who were responsible for the photo, its fame, and, ultimately, Kim's survival. Incredible book, and an incredible story. I strongly recommend! Now I'm reading A ROOM OF ONE'S OWN, by Virgina Woolf. It's about time I read this one!

Apart from reading, planning weekend trips, nightswimming and teaching, I've been thinking a lot about two things. First is how I can be most useful and helpful here, not only to the university for this academic year, but in more sustainable ways. Second is what the hell I'm going to do with myself when I come home next July, and for the rest of my life in general. I'm focusing much more on the former, clearly, but the latter is getting some time, as well. Can't I just stay a Fulbright ETA forever?

Normal People Do It Too

Trailer for the new album and DVD....I love the kitschy flames!

You Don't Know Me

Sammy's music video debut! Official video for the single "You Don't Know Me (feat. Regina Spektor)", from the boys' upcoming album Way To Normal, which will be released on 30 September. Directed by the infamous Tim and Eric, and with a surprise celeb cameo... :)

Dry spell, sink repairs, first classes and a bike ride

The rain gods have shown some mercy! Yesterday morning and afternoon brought only light rain, although the evening was pretty soaked. And today it hasn’t rained at all! There might be hope, after all.

The lack of rain has made for a couple of busy days. Katherine (who, by the way, brought me breakfast for the second time yesterday morning—see below!) and I took advantage of the mild weather on Tuesday to take the 5 into town, go to a favorite bakery, stop at the “super”market, and get bubble tea. It started pouring at one point, but by that time we were waiting at a covered bus stop and we didn’t mind the rain. In our evening venture for dinner, at which point the rains were heavy, I began to realize that the expensive “waterproof” Northface slicker I bought back home isn’t really that waterproof. I’m considering trading it in for a full-length, heavy duty poncho.

Breakfast! Wrapped up in a banana leaf....

...with corn, peanuts, some myserterious white grain, and shredded coconut. Delicious! and only 2000 d, or 12 cents.

I did invest (about $7!) in a pair of knock-off Chaco sandals to help me survive the rainy season. They’re waterproof and have a top and back strap to make sure I don’t lose a sandal in a rush of rainwater (a real possibility, my frieds). Flip flops just slide around in the mud and flip water and dirt onto the backs of my legs. Somehow, though, the locals manage to wear them in the rains and stay squeaky clean. It’s beyond me.

This morning I had planned to sleep in, but I woke up suddenly at 7:30 and remembered that I had an 8am meeting. Lucky for me! I had totally forgotten about the meeting otherwise. While I was walking to the meeting, a teacher on a motorbike who I’d never met, but who knew my name nonetheless, stopped me. She started talking to me about books for the pronunciation class that I was team-teaching with her. But, like I said, I’d never met her, and furthermore I’d never heard a thing about this pronunciation class. She finally realized I was confused. I explained the class wasn’t on my schedule and I didn’t know anything about it, and she, now confused herself, got my email and mobile number and said she’d get back to me.

I went on to my meeting, with Ms. Lan Anh, one of the teachers I’m team-teaching with. We reviewed the lesson plan for tomorrow’s class, which was strangely exciting for me. She’s young—only 24—but just from the meeting today it seems that’s she’s a very good teacher. And, luckily for me, she gets the concept of “team teaching”. She’s giving me responsibilities but isn’t abandoning me to teach the course. As a Fulbright ETA, I’m not allowed to teach classes by myself but only work as a TA. Despite this rule, several other Fulbrighters have been thrown into a full course of load of classes that they’re expected to teach alone. I’m feeling fortunate that everyone at my university understands what my role is. I thus avoid the awkward situation of having to contact Fulbright, have them remedy the situation, and in doing so probably step on the toes of several of my university higher-ups.

As I was leaving the rather successful meeting with Lan Anh, Ms. Hong, my boss, flagged me down. I’m team teaching a listening class with her, and we talked about that for a while. I also asked her about this mysterious pronunciation class I’d just heard about. “Oh! Yes, I forgot!” was her primary response. Such is life here, and I’m totally fine with it so far. She wasn’t sure if there would be enough students for the class, which is why she didn’t talk to me about it before. Now, though, it’s looking like this class will happen after all. I was happy to take on another class-that’s what I’m here for—but I was a little disappointed that it met Mondays and the last two periods on Friday afternoons. I was looking forward to having Friday afternoons off to travel, and, after October 18th when my Friday class ends, taking long weekends to travel. Feeling bad for increasing my work load, and at the last minute, Ms. Hong said it was ok if I missed some Friday classes as long as I went to the Monday sessions. Plus, the new class stops meeting on October 29th, which would still leave all of November for long weekends. Sounds just fine to me! And I think Ms. Hong was really pleased that I agreed to take on another class. It’s just not a big deal to me—I’m here to help.

Given the “dry spell”, I decided to go out to find lunch (as opposed to eating whatever fruit, carrots, and crackers I had lying around). While I was walking, the French-speaking, banana treat-selling man intercepted me. Warmly greeting me in French and shaking my hand as usual, he decided that I needed to sit down and talk to him for a while. He grabbed my wrist, pulled me over to a little plastic stool, sat me down, and gave me a banana treat on the house, and quizzed me in French about all my biographical information that I’d told him multiple times before. This man continues to be a highlight in my days here. He’s missing most of this teeth, hard to understand in all of the three languages we use (English, French, and Vietnamese), but he’s so genuine and generous. He’s always sincerely happy to see Katherine and me—we patronize him nearly every evening—and he’s taken to giving us free bananas. The things cost 6 cents, so they’re pratically free anyway, but to him that 6 cents is a big deal.

After lunch, our friend Tu stopped by. I realized that I should have him help me with the sink problem I’m having—my sink was falling out of the wall, and I was terrified that it was going to fall and crush my feet one morning while I was sleepily brushing my teeth. There was no way I could communicate this to the house manager, so I got Tu translate for me. I figured getting the sink fixed would take days, or weeks—especially since I’ve mentioned the problem to International Relations director, and even pointed out the dangling sink to the house manager once before. To my astonishment, though, the house manager was actually doing repairs in another room on the floor and had the tools—and several guys to help—on hand.

The method of repair, though, was not what I expected. First, Tu and the house manager took the sink of the wall and pulled out the flimsy brackets. I assumed that they would just drill new holes and rehang the brackets, but I was hoping they’d fill the old holes to prevent ants coming in. Then, when Tu indicated that the house manager needed to break up some chopsticks of mine, I thought he was using them to just fill the holes. He rammed the chopsticks into the holes, hammered them firmly, and then broke off the remaining wood. To my surprise, though, he then re-fastened the brackets into the old holes, which were now stuffed with wood. He had merely used the chopsticks to create more firm braces for the sink brackets. I questioned the structural integrity of this plan at first, but now the sink seems steady. Pretty damned creative and resourceful, if you ask me. The only problem now is that the sink sticks out too far and the bathroom door gets stuck when I try to shut it. So goes life in Vietnam. :)

Tu and the house manager fixing my sink....

The house manager using chopsticks to re-hang my sink.

The sink was fixed just in time for me to leave for my first class this afternoon! Miss Ha, also at the ripe age of 24, picked me up on her motorbike to take me to the classroom building, the location of which I didn’t know. She had warned me that the class was all boys who were “very excited” to meet me, and she was right. I walked into a room with 51 boys—some a bit older than me—who were giddy at my arrival. I even caught some of them taking pictures of me with their mobiles. Miss Ha, who seems to pride herself on her laid-back classroom atmosphere, stood me in front of the 51 young men and opened up the floor for questions. She didn’t introduce me but forced the students to generate questions for me in English. A great idea, in theory. The questions, though, quickly degenerated into whether or not I was married—this is a standard question here in Vietnam, but it took on an especially awkward feeling in this setting. The very worst though—and I should have expected this—was a request from one student for me to sing a song. Also a standard question in this country. I quickly flashed back to Dien Bien Phu, where all the Fulbrighters were asked to sing a song on the spot for an audience of students, teachers, administrators, and even a comrade who had basically been sent to “police” us. We had pulled off a rendition of “Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes”, and, today, while standing in front of a room of my male peers/pupils, it was this children’s song that I fell back on. I sang it once, entirely mortified, and then made them sing along. I seemed to make up for my musical (in)ability, though, by spitting out a couple sentences in Vietnamese, which earned me an uproarious applause. All said, the class went really well, I think. Miss Lan Anh dismissed my boss’s suggestion that I just observe for the first day, and we kind of winged my participation in the day’s lesson.

While we had a break during the class, Lan Anh took me to the teacher’s room. From the window of the room, I saw a beautiful, old, stone building, draped in ivy and vines and nestled into a lush hillside. I asked Lan Anh what it was, and she told me it was the teacher dormitory, and that she, in fact, lived there. I then noticed a cross on the top of the building, and it all made sense—the building was part of the old French convent that was later converted into the university (back in the 70s when the government confiscated all church property). The building is absolutely beautiful—it looks like something from the 18th century. I hear it lacks basic amenities like running water, so I think the comparison actually extends further than the exterior appearance. The locals don’t seem to appreciate the aesthetics of the building, though: It’s made of stone and, traditionally, the only Vietnamese buildings made of stone are prisons.
Satifisfied with my first class, I embarked on my next adventure for the day—a bike ride into town with Katherine to have dinner at a vegetarian restaurant. Yes, a bike ride! Today was overcast, but it didn’t rain all day and the clouds hovered in dramatic hues over the tips the surrounding mountains. Absolutely stunning. And it was such a beautiful evening, not hot at all with the clouds and a light breeze. Additionally, the ride into town is really quite pleasant—the road runs right along the beach. I was so happy to finally get some use out of my bike (other than as a drying rack)!

the view from the bridge while biking into town...

the lit-up structure in the middle there is the Po Nagar Cham tower

on the main street in in the city

We easily found the vegetarian place, and for under 2 dollars combined, we enjoyed a small feast. We each had a large plate of rice, vegetables, varieties of tofu and spring rolls, a small bowl of vegetable soup for each of us, and we split a larger bowl of vermicelli soup. Cold green tea was included. Impressive, right? The food was incredible—Sam, I can’t wait to take you here!—and the ride down there was equally amazing.

inside Au Lac vegetarian restaurant

a feast for two!

After dinner we decided to stop at pharmacy. Katherine has developed a strange rash on her face and she wanted to have it looked at. We rode our bikes down the street to a pharmacy we knew, and I watched the bikes as she went to the counter to get medicine. Here’s how it went down:

(We pull up to the pharmacy. Katherine gets off her bike.)
K: So, do you know how to say “itchy rash” in Vietnamese?
M: Hm…no, sorry.
(She goes to the counter anyway. 5 minutes later, she comes back to the bikes, having purchased some cream.)
M: Did you get some medicine for it?
K: Yeah. They gave me a cream for eczema or skin lesions or something.
M: Great!
K: Yeah, I thought this would be better than the genital herpes medicine they offered me.
(We both laugh so hard that we can’t pedal our bikes and have to stop.)

We’ll see how the cream works, I guess!

We also stopped at Maximark so that I could buy an extension cord. When I came home from my class today, I’d found that Steve had bought a lamp for me. It was hanging on my door knob in plastic bag (just like my breakfast was yesterday!). He and I were both looking for a non-florescent lamp for our rooms, and I guess he found them. He is really so generous—I’m currently using his bike helmet, as well, since I don’t have one yet and he generally rides his motorbike.


After a quick stop at the bakery, Katherine and I mounted our bikes for the trip home. While I was pedaling down the street, a man drove by on his motorbike and yelled to me in stunningly good English, “Hello! Welcome to my city!”. He smiled, and the two little girls on the back of the back waved. He slowed down so that I caught up with him, and proceeded to start a conversation with me. There I was, riding a bike in traffic for the first time, dodging vans, cars, and motorbikes, and trying to maintain a conversation with this guy. Only in Vietnam! Luckily his English was nearly perfect, and he understood everything I said despite the traffic noise around us. It turns out he’s a tour guide in the city, and that he lives right by the university. When it came time to part ways, he said that he hoped he’d meet me again. And, knowing the magic of Vietnam, he probably will.

Back home, Katherine and I took our bikes back up to our rooms and headed out for a banana treat. I decided to take a present for the man, and opted for one of the several hats I got from the owner of the bike shop. Just passing along the generosity. That's one thing I'm really noticing changing in myself--an increased impulse to be generous. Everyone here is just sooo disproportionately generous, considering what they have, and I dont see how anyone could be here for long without feeling themselves more compelled to give, as well. So I gave the hat. And I'm doing other things, as well, that I'm keeping as my own little secrets.

I like how I am here. Happy, rested, informed, multilingual, flexible, patient, open, calmer, more tolerant of insects, reading more, increasingly generous and decreasingly dependent on the excess energy I consume as an American. What scares me about returning to my "American life" is the possibility of losing all this....

The Stopping Power of Water

Monsoon season is here, and it's not fucking around. It has literally rained for two nights and days without stop, and will continue to do so for the next three months or so. Maybe a day of sun here and there. I can't exactly get my head around it. And I definitely didn't bring proper shoes for it.

I stayed in for most of the day, but I finally mustered the courage to leave the building when Katherine invited me to get che across the street. I walked down the road, but ultimately refused to go into the cafe because there was a river of several inches of standing water in front of it and I didn't want to completely ruin my shoes. This, John Mearsheimer, is the stopping power of water, a phenomenon that applies to more than just great power politics.

Luckily Katherine got the che to go. Che is a pretty broad term for a variety of drink-like treats. In Hanoi I had one with lots of fruit and grass jelly in a sweet juice of some sort. Today, it had black beans, white beans, tapioca, plantain bananas and coconut milk with ice. So tasty, and healthy too! It was worth trudging out in the rain, and definitely worth the 4000 dong (about 25 cents).

Other than trekking out for dinner in the pouring rain--Katherine and I were starving, and Steve needed dinner too--I've been inside all day. I guess I'm just going to have to get used to being damp for the next few months.

I did manage to do some laundry today (there's a washer downstairs) and discovered that while I won't be riding my new bike much during the rainy season, it will still get some use as a drying rack.


I finally met some of the other residents of the building, too! I ran into a few today while I was taking out the trash. There are some Vietnamese, some Chinese, a couple guys from Bangladesh. Then, tonight, night there was a knock on my door. I answered to find a guy that I'd never met before. Without introducing himself or anything, he asked me if I was free and if I could come upstairs to talk with him and his friends. He said that the atmosphere of the building was "boring" because everyone was just in their rooms closed doors. And without further information, Katherine and I were swept upstairs and suddenly found ourselves sitting in some girls' room, eating sesame candy and chum chum, and chatting with two Vietnamese girls, a few vietnamese guys and the two guys from Bangladesh. A little strange at first, but ultimately fun and informative. I'm excited about new friends, and I like this multiculturalism! At one point we were comparing the status of unwed mothers in our respective countries. In America, it's not a big deal. In Vietnam, it's still kind of shameful but much less so than in the past. In Bangladesh, the woman is beaten by her family.

The best news of the day is that I will be hosting a Full Moon Celebration in my room on Sunday! My friend Duan asked me tonight if he could organize the celebration in my room, and although I was hesitant at first, I came to senses and agreed. OF COURSE I will host a Full Moon Celebration! Apparently it will be Sunday night, and it will involve flying lanterns, games, and lots of new friends. Horray for full moons in Viet Nam!


Currently listening: Nick Drake, Pink Moon

To market, to market

This morning, Katherine, Tu, Duan and I met for coffee at 8:30, and then we all walked down to the market near campus . Katherine and I needed supplies to make fresh spring rolls, and the boys tagged along and took these photos. Thanks, boys! (For more photos, see Tu's picasa here.)

drinking coffee at a little shop nearby (katherine, tu, and me)

Duan reading my palm and drawing flowers on my fingertips (long story)

Walking to the market, we found this little ceramic dog for sale at a flower shop.

at the market.....

buying veggies (so inexpensive here!!!!)

and buying fresh tofu...

and fresh vermicelli...

finishing up by buying fruit...

...and finally back at home!

In the afternoon, Katherine and I went for a walk to explore a part of the neighborhood we'd never visited. We found another market, where I bought this little rug for 7000 dong, or about 45 cents. Hopefully it will prevent the floor outside my bathroom from getting completely wet when I shower.

Finally, Katherine and I attempted to make fresh spring rolls from the rice paper, veggies, and tofu we bought at the market. We checked out the kitchen in the building, but it was....terrifying. We opted to borrow Steve's hot water maker to make water to soften the rice paper. All said, the spring rolls proved to be quite tasty: tofu, cucumber, lettuce, basil, mint, bean sprouts, soy sauce and vegetarian fish sauce. Given that we had no kitchen and only 2 bowls and a plate, I think we did pretty damn well! (Note: We clean all of our fruits and veggies with special baby bottle/veggie/fruit cleanser!)

ingredients

Aaaand....here's my new bike!! Steve has loaned me a great bicycle helmet (he has a spare, and he drives a motorbike anyway) until I buy my own.


In other news, I was supposed to start classes tomorrow, but my Monday classes have been canceled. I'm a little disappointed but it's moderated by the fact that now I don't have to get up at 6am (my first class on Mondays is at 7!).

Also, it has started raining. I was right. Last night and tonight have brought torrential rains. It seems to be only be raining at night and in the morning right now, and the days are still sunny. I can handle this, but I assume monsoon season only gets more intense. And just as my sunburn is starting to go away!

Back in the real world, Sam is having an exciting day. He's playing a Folds show with the Nashville Symphony tonight! (Read more here.) At this moment, in fact, he's probably heading to rehearsal. I'm so proud of him. As happy as I am here, and as little as I want to go back, there are a few things I'm sad to miss. This is one of them. Hopefully I'll be able to do some youtube stalking tomorrow...

Golden Girl Magically Becomes RED Girl!

Remember a couple months ago when I was making fun of the Fulbright manual for explaining that the "sun is hot and can burn you quickly"? I realize now that instead of being a smart ass, I should have been using that time to buy more sunscreen. After getting sucked into a book while lying on the beach on Friday, I am suffering from a nearly full-body sunburn. Legs, arms, back, shoulders, chest. The worst is my....well, my ass. I can't sit, stand, or lie down without pain. Almost as miserable are my upper arms and shoulders, which are so burnt that I can barely lift my arms or put on a shirt. I know this is my fault. But I did check myself intermittently to make sure I wasn't burning....and I didn't think I was. I guess the sun here really is just a lot more intense than I imagined. And I'm starting to question the integrity of that overpriced sunscreen, as well.

The good news is that I read nearly all of Dumb Luck while I was cooking myself. I have just a few pages left! And apart from getting one of the worst sunburns of my life, it really was a nice day. Alone, on a gorgeous beach, swimming, resting, reading, trying to determine the origins of all the tourists around me...I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to live in a land-locked locale again!

After leaving the beach, I stopped for a banana smoothie at a little italian place near the beach. There was another lone female foriegner in the restaurant. She looked about my age, in fact. As I as sipping my smoothie and she was eating her lunch, we both noticed a cockroach scurrying across the floor. We looked at each other and laughed, both at the cockroach and at the fact that neither of us were particularly bothered by its presence. This is Viet Nam. It's a tropical climate. There are bugs. Lots of them. There's nothing you can do about it. So you just accept them, and go on drinking your banana smoothie.

Later in the evening I met Katherine for dinner at our favorite vegetarian sandwich street vendor at one of the pagodas near campus, and a smoothie at the little joint down the road. Of course, we topped off the evening with banana treats from the french-speaking vietnamese man. Every night, as he sees us coming up to him, he stands up, says good evening in French, shakes our hands, and asks us (still in french) if we've eaten dinner yet. It's one of the highlights of my day. I feel that the 1000 dong I pay him isn't quite enough, and I keep meaning to take him little treats, like a Hershey kiss or something.

Sleeping with this horrific sunburn didn't go very well, but I was up early nonetheless for an 8am meeting with the English department. Yep, 8am meeting on Saturday morning. (They actually have class on weekends but I'm not teaching any of them, luckily). Vietnamese people just get up so ridiculously early. Early as in 5:30. Everyone gets up around this time, just naturally and for pleasure. My friend Tu was telling me that although he normally gets up at 5:30,n sometimes he sleeps "late", until 6 or 6:30 am. When I told him I sleep until 8am (which was a lie--I can sleep much later!), he laughed! He said though, that he didn't think I was lazy and that my late sleeping was just a matter of habit.

After the meeting, one of the English teachers took me to buy a bike! We rode her motorbike to the bike shop. (By the way, I've become a pro at riding side saddle, since I almost always wear skirts here.) The owner of the bike shop was a jovial 40-something guy who, through the translations of the English teacher, flirted with me in a completely non-threatening way. He offered to lower of the price of one of the bikes I was looking at, and when I ended up buying a different bike instead, he halved the price of the bike lock I wanted and gave me four free hats. I ended up taking a pale green bike with a basket and a bell. As I rode off, the shop owner yelled "Bye Mallory!"

Riding home on my new bike was magical. The main road in the city runs right along the shore, and I just pedaled on home, by coast, over the bridge, past all the blue fishing boats...

Katherine had invited me to go to the Lousiane beach with her and Mary Anne, another volunteer teacher in the city. She's British, in her 50s, and works at a teacher training college near the university. She's specifically training special-ed teachers. So after coming home from my (sweaty) first bike ride, I rinsed off, cooled down, and then hopped on the 5 bus back into the city centre. I decided, since I was so sunburned, to treat myself to a nice lunch before joining them at the beach. Not the strongest justification in the world, but I also haven't had a western meal in a week. I strolled through the streets, browsing menus until I came upon "Ristorante da Fernando." As I was reading the menu, a western man walked out and started talking to me, asking me where I was from, etc. When I asked where he was from originally--his english was perfect but he had an accent--he said, "Italy of course! I am Fernando!" And with the discovery that I was talking to the Fernando, owner of the restaurant that makes its own pasta, I decided that I found my lunch spot for the day. It was a bit more expensive than I wanted, but all anyone needs to do to get me to buy something is tell me that he or she made it themselves....

Thus, I found myself enjoying homemade pumpkin and cheese ravioli with a butter sage sauce and talking to this Italian man about his life and travels. The meal was delicious, the company was great, and I decided that the experience itself was worth the extra dollar or two that I was spending.

Feeling just full enough, I wandered down to Lousiane, where I met Katherine and Mary Anne. Mary Anne is sweet, charming, and intelligent. It was great to meet a new friend! I pulled up a chair in the shade of the tiki umbrella and chatted for an hour or so. Mary Anne has been here for 9 months now, and I think was here for a year back in 2005. At that time, she was here alone, and her husband remained in the UK. This time, though, he's accompanied her. He took a job in Ho Chi Minh City, so he's there for 4 nights a week. But they're making it work. And they both love it here. I think what they're doing is pretty incredible. With their kids grown, they decided to have an adventure and reinvent their lives in Viet Nam. Mary Anne said it was so hard going back West, and I can already feel it myself....

Her husband, Chris, was actually coming in from HCMC at 6pm, and she invited Katherine and me to have dinner with them. She took us to a place called "Andy's Chopsticks", run by none other than a guy named Andy. He's actually Vietnamese, and was apparently one of the first friends they made when they moved here. His father owns a book exchange shop, called "Andy's", just nearby, and I had actually stopped in the bookstore before meeting them at the beach. The restaurant was cozy, with a clean, contemporary vietnamese feel to it. We sat in the garden, with a view of the kitchen where they were preparing our meals. Andy talked with us for a long time. His English is superb, and he is so generous and friendly. When I told him I was a vegetarian, he recommended a grilled vegetable plate from the menu, along with pumpkin soup. I figured the chef's recommendation was the way to go, so I took his suggestions. First, the soup was incredible. And I learned that, here, pumpkin is green. It was a little shocking when the bowl of green soup was placed in front of me! The veggies were delicious, as well. Broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, sweet potato (like the pumpkin, totally different here), green beans, and something that looked like beets grilled and drizzled with a light mustard sauce over lettuce....mmmh! Plus, since Andy is friends with Mary Anne and Chris, and was happy to meet two new volunteer teachers, he brought us a big plate of seaweed salad, on the house. Also delicious, not surprisingly. And it was wonderful to spend the evening with Chris and Mary Anne, who are both truly inspiring. Having them here feels a bit like having an aunt and uncle nearby.

We shared a cab home after stopping in A-Mart, another "supermarket" in the city, and one that caters to westerners. I tried to help pay for the cab but Chris and Mary Anne insisted otherwise, which was quite generous.

I've realized more today that people really value having volunteer teachers here. While I was at the beach, a guy came around selling paintings. I've seen him on the beach before, selling his wares. He's a nice guy with good English. Today when he approached us, Katherine and Mary Anne explained to him that they were volunteer teachers and didn't have much money (which is true, because their programs really dont pay much). I got lumped into the volunteer teacher group as well. I guess technically I am a volunteer teacher, but I'm getting quite a generous stipend by Vietnamese standards. The painter, though, was thrilled to hear that we were volunteer teachers, and explained that he himself had learned English from an American volunteer teacher many years ago. He said that we had very good hearts. I asked him if he had painted all the works himself, and he responded by handing me several laminated news articles about him and a gallery he used to run here in Nha Trang. Like I said, all anyone has to do to get me to buy something is tell me that he or she made it, painted it, carved it, etc. I'm a total sucker. And the paintings were quite good. When I asked him how much they were, he said something about me not having much money but having a good heart, so the price would be "very little". This was a very generous offer--I mean, this guy lost his gallery because of rent inflation and is now selling his paintings on the beach--and I felt guilty because I'm making much more than a volunteer teacher salary. But he felt so indebted and grateful to volunteer teachers... I promised him I would buy a painting soon. In fact, I'll probably buy several.

Later, talking with Andy at his restaurant, he too expressed gratitude towards volunteer teachers because he had learned english from one, as well. Hence, the free salad and his generous (and sincere) offer to help us with anything we ever needed.

I don't meant to be self-gratifying here. But I'm happy to know that people aren't offended by my presence here, and actually welcome it. I worried that I would be perceived as this American teacher who was sent to teach her "superior" language or something, or that my presence would be unwanted or resented as something almost colonial or imperialistic. So far, that doesn't seem to be the case, which is a great relief. The Vietnamese are truly some of the most wonderful, pragmatic, genuine people in the world.

Off to sleep after yet another perfect day. Going for coffee and to the market with Katherine, Tu, and Duan at 8:30 in the morning. Early for me, but I really had to fight for 8:30 instead of 7:30! I'm wondering, too, if the rains will start soon. The sea is starting to get rougher....

One absentee ballot, please.

All of this McCain-Palin stuff has me bummed and, well, scared. If they win, I won't live in America for another four to eight years. I mean it. I think they could be worse than Bush.

I'd like to be able to return to the states for a while at least, in between adventures, so I just donated to the Obama campaign. And I also figured out everything I need to do to vote from overseas. (It turns out that Fedex will mail my ballot overnight for free!) Sam pointed out to me recently that he will be here in Nha Trang visiting me during the election, and that we'll probably be watching the results on some TV in a random bar (I'd add probably an expat bar). I'm foreseeing either a very wonderful or a very sorrowful day.

I know donating and voting isn't doing a lot, but it's a start, right? I'm brainstorming what else I can do from over here to help....

All of this comes after another lovely day in Nha Trang. Here, at times it's easy for me to lie on a beach and not think about the rest of the world. Slums are out of sight, and I could excuse myself from watching the convention since I don't have at TV. But as soon as I leave that beach, reality hits hard. I walk home past the slums, read the NY Times online, and watch Palin's speech on youtube.

I actually didn't get to the beach today, though. I had a meeting with my boss and two English teachers (both 24-year-old girls) at 9am. I got my teaching schedule! I have two or three classes every day. There are 10 class periods a day here--more like an American high school schedule than an American university schedule. Some days I teach the first two or three periods (starting at 7am--ouch!), other days I teach the last two or three and one day I think I teach the middle three periods.... Unfortunately I don't have Monday or Friday off right now, but my Friday classes only run until the middle of October so I should be able to take some long traveling weekends after that. Next week I'll start going to the classes, just to observe, and the week after that I'll start team teaching all the classes.

(As a side note, on my way to the meeting a group of three Vietnamese students yelled "Katherine" to me. I turned to them, assuming they actually intended to talk to me since I was the only American within, oh, a few miles at least. I clarified that I wasn't Katherine, and when I told them my name, they said, "Oh, you're our listening teacher!" I didn't even know yet that I was teaching a listening class, but somehow they knew already. The three students were really nice and excited to meet me, and it made me even more excited to start working.

Also, one of the English teachers I met told me that her class--which is a non-english major class--is comprised entirely of male students who are "very excited" to meet me.)

After the meeting I came home and talked on skype to Corey about her challenges at City Year in Seattle. Then I shared lunch with Katherine--a yummy salad of tomato, basil, cucumber, carrots, olive oil, salt, a little rice vinegar, and some raw tofu. (Normally I hate raw tofu, but it's really good here. Probably because it was made fresh this morning. It takes the place of cheese in the salad, at least.) She seems to make this salad frequently, I think I will be doing the same. We also brainstormed how to make a mean italian meal--her father is Italian. We decided that we could make a mean bruschetta and some great pesto sauce, given the wild abundance of fresh basil here. I love having vegetarian friends!

We then ventured out in search of bubble tea. (For those of you who dont' know, I developed a serious bubble tea addiction this summer while waiting to come to Vietnam.) We decided to walk to the other side of the city and then take the bus home in order to save a few cents. Not surprisingly, though, we quickly got turned around in the backstreets and wandered around for a couple hours. Luckily we wandered right into a vegetarian restaurant, which was delicious. When we asked how much the plate of food was (we split it), the man was silent for a minute, smiling to himself and thinking just how much to overcharge us. He told us 20,000, but Katherine and I both knew very well that it should only be between 7,000 to 10,000. We offered him 10,000, and he accepted, I think realizing that we knew what he was up to. As a concession, I told the man we would be back often because we both live here. He seemed to be ok with the arrangement, gave us a business card, and we went on our way.

Soon we stopped in a cell phone shop to ask for directions to bubble tea and the "super"market (it's really tiny!). Luckily the guy at the shop actually knew where we wanted to go, and how to get there. In Vietnam, if you ask for directions and the person doesn't know how to get there, he or she will just make something up and give you absolutely wrong directions, instead of just saying they dont know. But this guy at the cell phone shop even drew us a map and labeled all the streets, even the ones that were irrelevant to where wanted to go.

It was this map that finally enabled us to find bubble tea, only a couple hours and at least 5km after leaving school. We actually found two places right beside each other. Unfortunately neither was very good (we tried both places, of course!). The search for good bubble tea in Nha Trang continues.

The supermarket, called Maximark, is only two streets away from bubble tea, so we stopped in there for some things: fiber crackers (because I'm not getting any fiber here), baby bottle wash to clean veggies (who knew! the things you learn living in southeast asia), a colander, individual packets of sweetened condensed milk, an air freshener. I also discovered ant spray at Maximark, which I'm sure I'll be buying soon to manage the constant presence of ants. I might also be buying mosquito killer that sprays itself intermittently into the air--tonight I found a mosquito in my room for the first time. In fact, it was INSIDE the mosquito net around my room. The thing's supposed to keep them out, not trap them in!

We caught the bus home after a long day of walking. The number 4 bus actually stops right beside Maximark and right at the end of the "donkey path" beside our building--it's practically door to door service! We bought some banana treats from the french-speaking vietnamese man and had our daily exchange in French. It's really one the highlights of my day, exchanging a few words in French. OH! I think I'm going to start going to French class with one of the English professors who's learning French! It's less than $10 for a semester. You can't beat that. But it's a French class that will be taught in Vietnamese, so I'm not sure how useful it will be. I'll give it a test run before paying.

I guess I should also focus on Vietnamese lessons, too, though. I feel like I'm using less Vietnamese here than in Hanoi. Today, though, when asking for directions, I found myself asking questions in Vietnamese that I didn't even really know I knew.

I'm living more simply here than I'm used to, and I love it. The thought of walking into a Target right now makes me tense. I don't want McCain-Palin to win, but I can't say staying here for a few years would be such a bad thing....

Golden Girl and the Urban Slums

When the ambassador learned that I would be working in Nha Trang, he called me "golden girl." And he's proving to be prophetic. I'm already quite sunkissed (er, pink in some places) and my hair is already getting lighter.

Have I mentioned yet that I love this place?

For example, here's what I did today. I slept until 8:30 and did some Skyping (although unfortunately I missed my little sister). I caught up with Sam, who has been in NYC visiting friends and hasn't really heard anything about my new home. After borrowing some SPF 50 from Katherine (I burned my neck walking around yesterday), I left around 10:30 am to walk through campus and down what we call the "donkey path", a little dirt trail that leads from campus to the main road. I was wearing a tank top, since I was headed to the beach, and I felt uber scandalous making the 2 minute walk through campus in such naughty attire. I was just hoping my boss wouldn't see as I walked by the administration building (called "G1"). Of course, though, as I was walking by she leaned out the window and called my name. I thought she was going to scold me for my outfit, but she actually just wanted to reschedule our meeting for Thursday morning. Phew!

After leaving her office I continued on, down the donkey path, and then along the main road to the bus stop. I jumped on the 5, which heads into the city centre/"tourist area". I can walk to a beach from my building, but I wanted to see the main city beach and some other beaches in the centre. Nha Trang is one of the more popular resort and tourist destinations in Viet Nam, but I've been surprised at how quiet and slow the town is, even in the touristy area. Yes, there are lots of hotels, including some expensive 5-star resorts, and a concentration of western restaurants along a handful of streets, but I would still describe Nha Trang as a sleepy resort town. It's no Miami. And thank god for that.

I wasn't sure exactly where to get off the bus, so I just hopped off when I thought I was getting close to where I wanted to be. I actually several blocks off, but I was more than happy to walk and explore a part of the city I don't know. My ultimate destination was the Lousianne Brewhouse and it's 25,000 VND ($1.50) day rental beach chairs that rest in the shade of individual tiki umbrellas. Before getting there, I wanted explore the city centre, try to scout out some places mentioned in my Lonely Planet Guidebook, and possibly find a bathing suit. For some reason, I thought bringing one bathing suit would be enough for a year in a city like Nha Trang. What a lack of foresight!

In the couple of hours that I walked around, I found many of the places in my guidebook. They're actually all concentrated within just a few streets--the heart of the tourist area. Like I said though, it's a really quiet tourist area. Especially during the heat of midday, when I was walking around. There was hardly anyone out! I noticed later in the evening, though, as I was going home, that the are became more populated around dinner time.

One place I found was the A-Mart, where Lonely Planet recommended I could get a Western fix of items from home. I found Barilla pasta, Kraft mac-n-cheese (which I hate), peanut butter (!), lots of good cheese (gouda, brie, camembert, emmental), M&Ms, oreos, Ritz crackers, Haribo candies, several good jams and preserves. The place seemed to mainly cater to the French ex-pat community here, it was pretty expensive, and I'm really trying to let go of some western luxuries, but it's good to know that I'm never too far away from brie cheese.

I also found many of the restaurants and bars in my book. They're all inexpensive by Western standards--vegetable korma for less than $3, for example.

I eventually found a bathing suit I liked in a store, clearly catered to Westerners, called Sun Sport. Although it was a one-piece, it wasn't the most conservative one-piece around. And it was $33, a steep price for an already-cheap American who's grown used to Vietnamese prices. But I really loved it, and it fit really well, and it was interesting looking. I had the woman hold it for me until this evening, just in case I found something better or changed my mind. (In the States I would have just bought it and returned it if I changed my mind, but that won't work here.) I continued on with the bathing suit hunt, but decided to call it quits when I was thumbing through a rack of suits in a different store and a cockroach crawled out of one.

I also needed to find to find some sunscreen. I didn't bring any normal sunscreen with me--just nice facial sunscreen--because I thought I would find it in abundance here. Boy, was I wrong! Sunblock is not only hard to find, but it's crazy expensive. I'm sure the two circumstances are related, but I also assume there's very little demand for the stuff among locals who cover themselves from head to toe whenever they're outside. I'm not kidding--socks with sandals or flipflops, long pants, long-sleeved shirts or hoodies over their normal clothes, or gloves that go all the way up the arm, scarfs, face masks, and hats. Vietnamese people don't want to be tan. The inverse problem of the lack of sunscreen is an oversupply of "whitening" lotions and beauty products that basically speed up how quickly your skin regenerates and ultimately leaves you totally unable to tan. I finally found some Hawaiian Tropic SPF 30, but paid about $7 for a small bottle. I found it for about $6 a block or two down the street, so I'll know where to go next time, but $6 is still high.

With all of my other objectives met--explore, find some restaurants, the A-Mart, sunscreen and a bathing suit--I decided it was time to go lie on the beach. I strolled into the Lousiane Brewhouse, and discovered a posh restaurant and bar, a gorgeous pool, and a stretch of white sand dotted with tiki umbrellas. Of course, the patrons were entirely Western. It felt strange for me to be surrounded by all Westerners instead of all Vietnamese. For me to be back in the majority, I guess. And it felt strange to be in such a high-class place, especially all by myself.

Nevertheless, I wandered around the pool and onto the beach, found an unoccupied umbrella and chair, and paid 25,000 VND when the attendant came to collect the rental fee. Really, $1.50 USD isn't bad for an extremely comfy chair (actually better than my bed!) and a private umbrella, but the idea is that while you're there you buy food and drinks from the brewhouse. You're not supposed to bring your own food or drink in. I managed, though, to smuggle in some chum chum fruit, a few mandarin oranges, and a bottle of water, and no one seemed to mind. Plus, there are constantly Vietnamese women walking up and down the beach with their shoulder baskets offering a variety of food and drinks, from bottled water and potato chips to fresh crabs and lobster. They cook them right there on the beach--one of the shoulder baskets is often a make-shift grill. The brewhouse doesn't seem to mind this. I even saw waiters serving beer and smoothies to groups of people who were eating entire meals they'd bought from the little ladies.

After reading in the shade for a while, I decided it was time to take my first swim in Pacific Ocean. The water here is, as imagined, gorgeous. And warm. Not too warm, but just warm enough to be comfortable while still cool enough to be refreshing. And it's so clear! Even when the water was much deeper than I am tall, I could still see the bottom. I swam for about half an hour. I haven't been really swimming in the ocean in years. I was out there, in the water, with no one really around me, swimming at a breath-taking beach in Vietnam after lounging under a tiki umbrella and eating chum chum....and I just started laughing to myself. Laughing out of shock, awe, gratefulness. Laughing because I was so overwhelmed with joy and happiness. How is this my life? How am I so fortunate?

Finally I pulled myself out of the water and back onto my chair. I read some more of Dumb Luck, a translated Vietnamese novel I bought in Ha Noi. Apparently it's a "modern classic" now, but was actually banned for a time. While I was reading, Katherine showed up. I had invited her to come and take up the chair beside me, as my treat. She's volunteer teaching here and is on a pretty tight budget. We chatted for a while as evening set in. Soon, though, I realized how hungry I was. I'd only eaten a cup of yogurt, a few cashews and a few chum chums all day, with all that walking and swimming and just being in the tropical heat. Additionally, it was 5pm, and the bus stops at 6:30 or so. I still had one last errand to make, to we decided to take care of that and then get back across the bridge for dinner.

The final errand was going to buy the bathing suit. After swimming in my current bathing suit, I realized one problem with it: whenever I extend my arms to make a stroke, the top rides down. It's a one-piece with bandeau-style top, and it just doesn't stay put when I'm swimming. Luckily I was swimming alone today, so it wasn't a problem, but I could see how it could be in the future. The nice lady still had the suit on hold for me. I calmed my possibly buyer's remorse by reminding myself that I really do need a second suit if I'm swimming every day, and that the same suit in the US would cost three times that much. And I'm putting myself on a tighter budget for the next few days.

We hopped back on the 5 bus and rode back across the bridge to our side of the city. While in transit we found a street with several bubble tea places. Not only is Katherine a fellow vegetarian, but she also loves bubble tea like I do. What kindred spirits!

Back on our side of town, Katherine and I finally managed to get a meal from this vegetarian sandwich stall she's been telling me about since I got here. Every time we've gone before tonight, it's been closed. But, boy, was this one amazing sandwhich. A fresh, warm baguette, some chili sauce, fresh herbs and cucumber, marinated tofu and several kinds of "mock meat" products, probably made from wheat gluten. All of this for 6000 VND, or about 36 cents. We took our sandwiches and found an amazing little fresh fruit and smoothie place. By this I mean a woman with a table of fresh fruit/veggies, a blender and juicer in her living room, which was open to the street. (It's really common here for people to be running businesses basically out of their living rooms, which are almost all open entirely to the street.) For 10,000 VND, Katherine and I split a smoothie made from ice, fresh papaya and coconut milk. We also got some of the best iced tea I've ever had with it, for free. After she and I finished about half the smoothie, the little Vietnamese woman came and poured the leftovers from the blender into our cup, which was really quite generous of her. So there I sat, with Katherine, on little plastic stools on the sidewalk outside of someone's store/living room, eating vegetarian vietnamese sandwiches and fresh papaya smoothies which cost us about a dollar each, in total. It was, hands down, one of the five best meals of my life.


A wonderful day, no doubt about it. But today I've also found myself reflecting a lot on the severe discrepancies of wealth and standard of living even with a two-mile stretch of road. This city has two parts, each on either side of the bridge. One side is the touristy part, the city centre with lots of hotels and even a few 5-star luxury resorts that cost a few hundred dollars a night. Where tourists spend in one meal three times the amount that the average vietnamese person has to live for an entire day. The other side of the bridge, though, is the "real" Vietnam. This is where I live. Yes, my room is plenty comfortable, especially by Western standards. But outside I find dirt roads, poor plumbing and sewage, and student dorms that sleep 14 to a room with no running water, AC, or mattresses. And at the bridge itself is perhaps the most clear vision of poverty in the city--a settlement of true urban slums. Lean-to's made of sticks and plastic tarps or patchwork walls of peices of corrugated tin. In my sheltered middle-class life, I've never seen anything like it. I saw a young boy today, he was probably 12 or so, pulling a big cart of potted plants to sell. He was pulling this cart as if he were an animal. He was alone, just laboring along with his heavy cart of plants, hoping someone would buy one.

I see these things--they're hard for me to see, especially in contrast to how fortunate I feel about my own life--and I don't know what to do. Just give him money? Buy a plant? Smile and walk away? At the moment I didn't want to buy a plant--even though I want one in my room--because I knew I'd be walking around a lot and didn't want to carry it around. Now, though, writing about this experience, I find myself thinking, "Mallory! That little boy is pulling around a huge cart full of plants for god knows how many hours a day. Can't you manage to carry a small one with you for a couple hours?!" and I feel like I should have bought a plant. But I can't go around buying something from every person that seems disadvantaged, or struggling. I could quickly spend my month's salary in a day or two. So what do I do, then? How do I help? Or can I? Is there anything to be done in the short term for that little boy, or does he just have to wait until his country develops (and enacts some child labor laws) to have a better life? And where do I fit into all of this?

I might add that the slums are slated to be destroyed soon so that another resort can be built. To add to the obvious misfortune of the slums, they happen to be located on a beautiful piece of land around an inlet of water (over which the bridge crosses).

One thing is for sure. I'm going to tone down my lifestyle and spending habits. In Hanoi I ate well, ate Western a lot of the time, and didn't think too much about money. But I'm not a tourist. I'm living here, and working here, and trying to leave something positive behind. I feel almost disrespectful lounging on the beach like I did today. Katherine has already been a good influence on me--she's making barely more than Vietnamese salary and she has to live on it. I'm trying to sync myself with her habits, then.

On the other hand though, does not spending do more harm than good? Cutting back, living more simply (as do the Vietnamese) might ease some of my own guilt, but does it help ease the struggle of anyone else? If I spend money, a local person gets it, for the most part. And that helps them to some degree, I assume....

Of course, this isn't just about spending. It's about consumption, attitude, mindset, expectations. But I'm just not sure what to do, how to reconcile my good fortunate with the poverty and struggle around me; not sure how to help, if I can help at all. Even in the slightest way. Like the story of the little child throwing stranded starfish back into the water, and when his grandfather says it won't make any difference, the child replies "It makes a difference to the starfish that lives." If anyone has any helpful hints about this existential crisis of mine, please send them along....