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....
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1 comment:
Ha ha ha! I can't with to hear what color you will be next week! A friend of mine some years back went to live on the western coast of central Mexico. When she returned she was orange! Her skin was orange. It wasn't tan it was orange! She attributed it to some fruit she was always eating there. Thanks for the wonderful" day in the life of...." Your writing style is nice and fun to read. Now go buy a painting from that guy!
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