After two lovely days in Nha Trang, Sam and I are heading to Dalat for a long weekend. With cool weather (in the 60s or 70s), it will be a drastic change of scenery for him, and especially for me, having grown so accostumed to the hot, humid climate.
Luckily we've had good weather since he arrived. Of course, right? My luck continues. Actually, though, we did have a couple minor hiccups: His flight was late, and one of his bags didn't come. Specifically, the bag with his clothes for the wedding didn't come. We had to scramble to throw together a wedding-worthy outfit--and luckily--we stumbled upon a great men's wear shop between the bus stop and the supermarket. He dropped about $47 dollars but got a nice pair of slacks, a nice shirt and a belt. Not bad, but at the wedding we realized he could have just worn his nice jeans and nice shirt. Hm. And then we had to make the trip back out to the airport today to get his second bag, but oh well. It's a gorgeous drive.
It has been really interesting seeing Sam's reaction to this place, and me in it. To some extent I'm used to my surroundings now, but for Sam, it's all very shocking.
The open tour bus is picking us up at our hotel tomorrow early tomorrow morning, so we'll have nearly a full two days in Dalat. This is my first time leaving Nha Trang since I arrived, and I'm feeling strangely sad about it, but of course I'm looking forward to a weekend adventure!
Posts will be short and few while Sam is here, most likely, but there's been a special request for Sam to make a "guest appearance" on here, so watch out. :)
30 October 2008
28 October 2008
My lucky day
I must have done something really good in a past life. Otherwise I don't know how to explain all my good fortune. This morning I woke up to an email from Sam, sent from Taipei airport, explaining that everything with his ticket was completely ok now and that he'd be arriving as planned. Big sigh of relief.
At the market, the sticky rice woman was out of soy milk. But she just called over to the another soy-milk lady and ordered up two glasses of soymilk for me and Katherine. She's done this before, and even remembered (without our telling her) that I take mine with sugar and Katherine takes hers without. Phenomenal. This morning, we didn't hear sticky rice woman tell the other woman about the sugar specifications. When we reminded her, she indicated that the other woman already knew. I guess from last time? Again, phenomenal. Somehow Katherine and I have found our way into the network of cross-ordering from different food vendors at the market, and they women even know what we want without our asking.
Then, when I went to do the paperwork for the car, the man told me I didn't need the papers and I could just rent the car anyway. Perfect. I met the driver (who was sitting playing chess with all the other drivers), and Lien's mother, who works in whatever office at the university rents cars to volunteer teachers from America. And when we tried to confirm the fee of 240,000 dong (about $14), they just should their hands, wiggled their hands (it means "no") and said "Khong" (which also means "no"). I didn't have to pay. I still dont understand, but somehow I'm getting a car and driver at absolutely no charge.
The luck continued. Lien stopped by my room again later in the afternoon so I could help her with some English for a presenation she was scheduled to give this afternoon. I mentioned to her that I was going into the city to look for a dress for the wedding tomorrow. We finished working on the presentation, and then she left to have lunch with her family. But 20 minutes later, she called me to ask if I'd left yet. She wanted to take me to find a dress, even though she had a presentation this afternoon. Apparently her aunt told her about some good shops. After confirming that she did not need to work anymore on her presenation, I agreed to the outting,and she came to pick me up on her motorbike.
In the city, we stopped in handful of shops where I thumbed through the racks in vain. Everything was the wrong color, the wrong cut, covered in rhinestones/sequence/fake plastic gems (you would have loved it, Mom!). And most things were too small and/or too expensive. Finally Lien took me to an unassuming shop near the market. I would have never walked into the place of my own accord, but I think I've found my go-to shop for tailoring, custom-made clothing, and ready-made clothes. They had racks of dresses, ranging from simple cotton to elegant--all made in-house--and they even had multiple sizes of the dresses. Lien helped me choose a few to try on. I liked 2 or 3 of them but eventually chose a simple, deep purple dress. It was a little big, and I didn't think they could take it in before the the wedding tomorrow evening. I asked Lien--she said "No, they'll do it now!" Ultimately they informed us that the dress wouldn't be ready until tomorrow morning because they had to take it to a tailor down the street, but Lien immediately offered to go pick up the dress for me. I can't believe how kind this girl is. When the shop keeper came back from asking the tailor how much the alterations would cost, she told us the changes would be 20,000 dong. That's about $1.20, and I was perfectly willing to pay it. But the shop keepers were upset about how much the tailor was "over charging"--they seemed bothered just out of principle, even though I said I would pay it. After a few tense phone calls, they got the price down to 10,000. About 60 cents. I paid the alteration fee, plus the 100,000 dong ($6) for the dress--a total of less than $7 for an adorable little dress and custom alterations. And I had assumed I wouldn't even be able to find a suitable dress! As we left the shop, Lien said "This is your lucky day!" With a free car to the airport, a new dress for the wedding, and Sam arriving in 2 hours, I couldn't agree more.
At the market, the sticky rice woman was out of soy milk. But she just called over to the another soy-milk lady and ordered up two glasses of soymilk for me and Katherine. She's done this before, and even remembered (without our telling her) that I take mine with sugar and Katherine takes hers without. Phenomenal. This morning, we didn't hear sticky rice woman tell the other woman about the sugar specifications. When we reminded her, she indicated that the other woman already knew. I guess from last time? Again, phenomenal. Somehow Katherine and I have found our way into the network of cross-ordering from different food vendors at the market, and they women even know what we want without our asking.
Then, when I went to do the paperwork for the car, the man told me I didn't need the papers and I could just rent the car anyway. Perfect. I met the driver (who was sitting playing chess with all the other drivers), and Lien's mother, who works in whatever office at the university rents cars to volunteer teachers from America. And when we tried to confirm the fee of 240,000 dong (about $14), they just should their hands, wiggled their hands (it means "no") and said "Khong" (which also means "no"). I didn't have to pay. I still dont understand, but somehow I'm getting a car and driver at absolutely no charge.
The luck continued. Lien stopped by my room again later in the afternoon so I could help her with some English for a presenation she was scheduled to give this afternoon. I mentioned to her that I was going into the city to look for a dress for the wedding tomorrow. We finished working on the presentation, and then she left to have lunch with her family. But 20 minutes later, she called me to ask if I'd left yet. She wanted to take me to find a dress, even though she had a presentation this afternoon. Apparently her aunt told her about some good shops. After confirming that she did not need to work anymore on her presenation, I agreed to the outting,and she came to pick me up on her motorbike.
In the city, we stopped in handful of shops where I thumbed through the racks in vain. Everything was the wrong color, the wrong cut, covered in rhinestones/sequence/fake plastic gems (you would have loved it, Mom!). And most things were too small and/or too expensive. Finally Lien took me to an unassuming shop near the market. I would have never walked into the place of my own accord, but I think I've found my go-to shop for tailoring, custom-made clothing, and ready-made clothes. They had racks of dresses, ranging from simple cotton to elegant--all made in-house--and they even had multiple sizes of the dresses. Lien helped me choose a few to try on. I liked 2 or 3 of them but eventually chose a simple, deep purple dress. It was a little big, and I didn't think they could take it in before the the wedding tomorrow evening. I asked Lien--she said "No, they'll do it now!" Ultimately they informed us that the dress wouldn't be ready until tomorrow morning because they had to take it to a tailor down the street, but Lien immediately offered to go pick up the dress for me. I can't believe how kind this girl is. When the shop keeper came back from asking the tailor how much the alterations would cost, she told us the changes would be 20,000 dong. That's about $1.20, and I was perfectly willing to pay it. But the shop keepers were upset about how much the tailor was "over charging"--they seemed bothered just out of principle, even though I said I would pay it. After a few tense phone calls, they got the price down to 10,000. About 60 cents. I paid the alteration fee, plus the 100,000 dong ($6) for the dress--a total of less than $7 for an adorable little dress and custom alterations. And I had assumed I wouldn't even be able to find a suitable dress! As we left the shop, Lien said "This is your lucky day!" With a free car to the airport, a new dress for the wedding, and Sam arriving in 2 hours, I couldn't agree more.
27 October 2008
English Club, fruit picking and preparations
After three months of a 12-hour time difference and frustrating Skype calls over a poor internet connection, Sam will be here tomorrow! It hardly seems real. The thought of having him, from my "old life", here, in my "new life" is almost incalculable. My favorite romantic comedy is this quirky story about a guy who says he's from the future, and when his girlfriend asks for proof, he says something like "I dont have any, because you can't bring any non-organic, carbon-based material from the future when you back travel!" I feel like having Sam here will be almost like that, almost anachronistic, to have such an important part of my Western life suddenly dropped down into my Vietnamese life. In some ways my two lifes seem as unrelated as the distant past and distant future, but in reality they exist simultaneously: They are parallel universes, and they are about to collide. :)
I've been running around getting stuff ready--buying some treats, cleaning, organizing, making sure the bike we're borrowing is in good shape (I still need to get air in the tires). The biggest hassle has continued to be getting to and from the airport. Luckily my friend Lien has made it her personable responsibility to make it as easy for me as possible. (She also took me to book the hotel, and today she even went to the hotel herself to make sure everything was in order!) She looked into the bus option for me, she tried to find a friend with car (unfortunately the car was in the shop), and ultimately she figured out how I could rent a car from the university to drive me there and back for a much cheaper rate than a taxi. And she has done all of this without my even asking! Right now it's looking like I'll be renting a car for 240,000 dong ($14.50), but we'll see.
The past few days, before Sam's arrival, have been moving a little slowly, despite my having a lot to do. (The aforementioned movie also makes the argument that time is an emotional phenomenon.) Sunday morning was English club, a much less stressful one that last month's, which was surprising given the circumstances: None of the teachers could be present (due to a meeting about politics or something), and all the third year English majors were running the show. I though these two conditions would make a lot more work for me. Instead, I had so little responsibility in this English club that I felt guilty. I offered to help more, and did everything I could, but other than editing scrips, writing a little skit, and getting the supplies for apple bobbing, I basically just showed up. The students took care of EVERYTHING. And what's more is that this English club, in my opinion, was better than the last English club, which was run by teachers. Even when the projector (which was a huge part of the production) wouldn't work, the students just adapted and pulled of the whole thing smashingly. In America, students would have cried and quit. But not here! They just rolled on.
Other than the serious problem with the projector, there was only one other minor glitch. The themes of the event were Halloween and Vietnamese women's day, and the club was organized like a game show. One of the questions was presented through a skit. We had done a run-though of all the skits two days before, but apparently the full theatrics had been omitted during rehearsal: One of the skits was about a woman who was executed, and during practice the performace seemed tame and even stylized. But the real deal was not. Two students in fatigues, carrying scarily real-looking fake machine guns, marched into the room behind a traditionally-dressed female student with her hands tied and her eyes blindfolded. They pushed her to the floor, even. Then they stood her up against the blackboard, and after she yelled out her infamous last words ("Long live Vietnam, Long live Uncle Ho"), the uniformed soldiers began to "shoot" her as the speakers blasted strikingly realistic machine gun sound effects. Her body writhed with gunshots and she slithered to the floor--it looked like something out of Platoon or something. The camo, the clothing, the sound of the guns (which were not in rehearsal), the way her body shook and fell. I was not prepared for it, and it caught me so off-guard, especially the sound of the guns, that I nearly panicked and started crying. I was a reflex reaction, like pulling your hand off a hot stove top. I have enough of a history with guns to elicit strong, uncontrolled reactions to them--especially if I'm not expecting an encounter, and even if the guns are fake and I'm in the middle of English club. The reactions are really just out of my control. I could hardly keep myself together, but I had to go read the question immediately after the skit was finished. I managed to collect myself but it was a close call, and I dont think my heart rate went back to normal for another hour!
I was thrilled that, otherwise, the English Club was a hit. But I was exhausted. Katherine had been invited out to visit the home of one of her student's in the countryside, and she had asked me along, too, but I was just so tired and had planned to stay home. Luckily, I changed my mind at the last minute. I just need to do everything I can here. Katherine and I stopped for lunch at a veg restaurant at Long Son Pagoda (we needed to change buses nearby, anyway), and despite a near disaster involving about 30 fried spring rolls, we had a pleasant lunch. Then we hopped on the bus for the 15 km drive out of the city. The bus attendant helped show us where to get off, and Katherine's student came on her motorbike to meet us. We all three climbed on the moto (which is actually illegal, and a bit scary anyway) and headed down a dirt path, into the brush...It was amazing. I love riding on motorbikes, and this was one of the better trips I've had despite the fact that I clinging for dear life, sitting side-saddle on the back tip of the seat with two other people on the bike. The day was beautiful, not too hot, the fields were green, the flowers were fragrant, the moutains surrounded us, and there I was, driving down a dirt road, dodging chickens, in the countryside of Vietnam. How, exactly, is this my life?
After a few moments we arrived at the student's home, an adorable little house nestled among a lush garden of fruit trees. Mango, chom chom, guava, jackfruit, durian, banana--fruit trees everywhere! The student showed us around the gardens and taught us how to harvest the chom chom fruit using a long bamboo pole with a slit at the end. As it turns out I'm not very dextrous with said fruit-harvesting tool, but I managed to pull down a fair bit of chom chom. (Pictures soon!) We sat out in the garden with the student and her mother, eating self-picked chom chom and guava, as well as some green mango and banana the student had picked earlier. This is what it's all about, I thought to myself. This is why I'm here, this is why I love Vietnam, this is why I am so happy.
And then women sent us home with probably 20 lbs of the aforementioned fruit. A perfect experience (even with the fire-ant bites, which thankfully weren't as plentiful as the time fire ants got into my and sam's bed in cinque terre).
The day only continued to improve. While we were on the bus to the countryside, Ms Khanh, who I co-teach with, called me and invited me and Katherine for dinner at her house. A student would join us. I agreed, despite being so exhausted that I felt too tired to even breathe. We went over to her house at 6pm, and she had prepared a vegetarian feast for us! Tofu, greens, cucumber, a tasty russian salad and an amazing egg dish with onions and tomatoes, all followed by yogurt and fruit. So delicious! On top of the wonderful meal was wonderful conversation. Probably the best conversation I've had with Vietnamese friends since I arrived. We talked about expectation of women, family dynamics, the difficult decision of how many children to have and when. The conversation proved to me, even more than I already knew, that any research into reproductive rights in Vietnam would require a lot of talking. I guess I better work harder at learning Vietnamese!
My studying will most likely be delayed until after Sam's gone, though. I definitely won't have time to study tomorrow: early morning trip to the market, handling all the paperwork to rent the car (with the help of Lien), doing laundry, cleaning the floors, maybe going shopping for a new dress for the wedding on Wednesday (I dont have anything suitable for a wedding, really), and finally leaving at 4:15 pm to pick up Sam. That is, assuming he gets here ok. From a habit of always using e-tickets--he flies 2-6 times a month and never has paper tickets---he forgot the paper ticket that Expedia sent him for his flights. And I'll take some responsibility as well, as I forgot to remind him about the ticket. Who uses paper tickets these days?! After a bit of panicking, and help of a woman named "Angel" who works at LAX, everything seems to be worked out now and he should arrive as scheduled. Let's hope, at least. The biggest glitch was re-issuing his ticket from Ho Chi Minh City to Nha Trang, and even that seems ok now. But, if it's not, the worst case scenario is that he's without a flight to Nha Trang from HCMC. And that's not a terrible crisis, as I can think of about 5 ways to get him here easily from there. No big deal. That's the beauty of traveling. If you miss your train, another one will come later.
Sam's arrival also means that I've been here for three months. El tiempo pasa volando. I'll be 60 soon.
Currently listening: "The Metamorphosis", from Glass: Solo Piano, by Philip Glass
I've been running around getting stuff ready--buying some treats, cleaning, organizing, making sure the bike we're borrowing is in good shape (I still need to get air in the tires). The biggest hassle has continued to be getting to and from the airport. Luckily my friend Lien has made it her personable responsibility to make it as easy for me as possible. (She also took me to book the hotel, and today she even went to the hotel herself to make sure everything was in order!) She looked into the bus option for me, she tried to find a friend with car (unfortunately the car was in the shop), and ultimately she figured out how I could rent a car from the university to drive me there and back for a much cheaper rate than a taxi. And she has done all of this without my even asking! Right now it's looking like I'll be renting a car for 240,000 dong ($14.50), but we'll see.
The past few days, before Sam's arrival, have been moving a little slowly, despite my having a lot to do. (The aforementioned movie also makes the argument that time is an emotional phenomenon.) Sunday morning was English club, a much less stressful one that last month's, which was surprising given the circumstances: None of the teachers could be present (due to a meeting about politics or something), and all the third year English majors were running the show. I though these two conditions would make a lot more work for me. Instead, I had so little responsibility in this English club that I felt guilty. I offered to help more, and did everything I could, but other than editing scrips, writing a little skit, and getting the supplies for apple bobbing, I basically just showed up. The students took care of EVERYTHING. And what's more is that this English club, in my opinion, was better than the last English club, which was run by teachers. Even when the projector (which was a huge part of the production) wouldn't work, the students just adapted and pulled of the whole thing smashingly. In America, students would have cried and quit. But not here! They just rolled on.
Other than the serious problem with the projector, there was only one other minor glitch. The themes of the event were Halloween and Vietnamese women's day, and the club was organized like a game show. One of the questions was presented through a skit. We had done a run-though of all the skits two days before, but apparently the full theatrics had been omitted during rehearsal: One of the skits was about a woman who was executed, and during practice the performace seemed tame and even stylized. But the real deal was not. Two students in fatigues, carrying scarily real-looking fake machine guns, marched into the room behind a traditionally-dressed female student with her hands tied and her eyes blindfolded. They pushed her to the floor, even. Then they stood her up against the blackboard, and after she yelled out her infamous last words ("Long live Vietnam, Long live Uncle Ho"), the uniformed soldiers began to "shoot" her as the speakers blasted strikingly realistic machine gun sound effects. Her body writhed with gunshots and she slithered to the floor--it looked like something out of Platoon or something. The camo, the clothing, the sound of the guns (which were not in rehearsal), the way her body shook and fell. I was not prepared for it, and it caught me so off-guard, especially the sound of the guns, that I nearly panicked and started crying. I was a reflex reaction, like pulling your hand off a hot stove top. I have enough of a history with guns to elicit strong, uncontrolled reactions to them--especially if I'm not expecting an encounter, and even if the guns are fake and I'm in the middle of English club. The reactions are really just out of my control. I could hardly keep myself together, but I had to go read the question immediately after the skit was finished. I managed to collect myself but it was a close call, and I dont think my heart rate went back to normal for another hour!
I was thrilled that, otherwise, the English Club was a hit. But I was exhausted. Katherine had been invited out to visit the home of one of her student's in the countryside, and she had asked me along, too, but I was just so tired and had planned to stay home. Luckily, I changed my mind at the last minute. I just need to do everything I can here. Katherine and I stopped for lunch at a veg restaurant at Long Son Pagoda (we needed to change buses nearby, anyway), and despite a near disaster involving about 30 fried spring rolls, we had a pleasant lunch. Then we hopped on the bus for the 15 km drive out of the city. The bus attendant helped show us where to get off, and Katherine's student came on her motorbike to meet us. We all three climbed on the moto (which is actually illegal, and a bit scary anyway) and headed down a dirt path, into the brush...It was amazing. I love riding on motorbikes, and this was one of the better trips I've had despite the fact that I clinging for dear life, sitting side-saddle on the back tip of the seat with two other people on the bike. The day was beautiful, not too hot, the fields were green, the flowers were fragrant, the moutains surrounded us, and there I was, driving down a dirt road, dodging chickens, in the countryside of Vietnam. How, exactly, is this my life?
After a few moments we arrived at the student's home, an adorable little house nestled among a lush garden of fruit trees. Mango, chom chom, guava, jackfruit, durian, banana--fruit trees everywhere! The student showed us around the gardens and taught us how to harvest the chom chom fruit using a long bamboo pole with a slit at the end. As it turns out I'm not very dextrous with said fruit-harvesting tool, but I managed to pull down a fair bit of chom chom. (Pictures soon!) We sat out in the garden with the student and her mother, eating self-picked chom chom and guava, as well as some green mango and banana the student had picked earlier. This is what it's all about, I thought to myself. This is why I'm here, this is why I love Vietnam, this is why I am so happy.
And then women sent us home with probably 20 lbs of the aforementioned fruit. A perfect experience (even with the fire-ant bites, which thankfully weren't as plentiful as the time fire ants got into my and sam's bed in cinque terre).
The day only continued to improve. While we were on the bus to the countryside, Ms Khanh, who I co-teach with, called me and invited me and Katherine for dinner at her house. A student would join us. I agreed, despite being so exhausted that I felt too tired to even breathe. We went over to her house at 6pm, and she had prepared a vegetarian feast for us! Tofu, greens, cucumber, a tasty russian salad and an amazing egg dish with onions and tomatoes, all followed by yogurt and fruit. So delicious! On top of the wonderful meal was wonderful conversation. Probably the best conversation I've had with Vietnamese friends since I arrived. We talked about expectation of women, family dynamics, the difficult decision of how many children to have and when. The conversation proved to me, even more than I already knew, that any research into reproductive rights in Vietnam would require a lot of talking. I guess I better work harder at learning Vietnamese!
My studying will most likely be delayed until after Sam's gone, though. I definitely won't have time to study tomorrow: early morning trip to the market, handling all the paperwork to rent the car (with the help of Lien), doing laundry, cleaning the floors, maybe going shopping for a new dress for the wedding on Wednesday (I dont have anything suitable for a wedding, really), and finally leaving at 4:15 pm to pick up Sam. That is, assuming he gets here ok. From a habit of always using e-tickets--he flies 2-6 times a month and never has paper tickets---he forgot the paper ticket that Expedia sent him for his flights. And I'll take some responsibility as well, as I forgot to remind him about the ticket. Who uses paper tickets these days?! After a bit of panicking, and help of a woman named "Angel" who works at LAX, everything seems to be worked out now and he should arrive as scheduled. Let's hope, at least. The biggest glitch was re-issuing his ticket from Ho Chi Minh City to Nha Trang, and even that seems ok now. But, if it's not, the worst case scenario is that he's without a flight to Nha Trang from HCMC. And that's not a terrible crisis, as I can think of about 5 ways to get him here easily from there. No big deal. That's the beauty of traveling. If you miss your train, another one will come later.
Sam's arrival also means that I've been here for three months. El tiempo pasa volando. I'll be 60 soon.
Currently listening: "The Metamorphosis", from Glass: Solo Piano, by Philip Glass
25 October 2008
Reproduction
Although research isn't mandated by my grant, I really want to do some investigation into sexuality and reproductive rights in Vietnam. For the past few months, I've been so overly-stimulated by all my new surroundings and responsibilities that I've barely even googled the issue. But this week, partially prompted by my recent convo with Lan Anh, I've decided to put a little more energy into some (still very informal research). Just today, in the course of 45 minutes or so, I learned the following:
I was happy to find several reports on family planning and contraception in Vietnam; now I just need to find the time to read them all. And find a lot more information. I just have so many questions. What types of contraceptive are available, and to whom? And are the contraceptives quality? What type of sex- and family planning education is provided, and to whom? What do people think about sex, sexuality, family planning (and more specifically, the various forms of contraceptives)? Apparently there's a serious stigma against condoms here, a phenomenon which is, as far as I can tell, totally unrelated to the infamously shoddy quality of the locally-made ones. (So I've been told!!!) And I'm interested in issues surrounding abortion, as well. Despite its apparent prevalence, I read that there's still a stigma against it--which leads to women getting whatever the vietnamese equivalent of a "back alley" abortion is, and thus the 1 death per week...
Clearly I need to narrow down a bit, but for the time being I'm glad to read everything I can get my hands on about the issue. But reading isn't enough, I don't think. I need to talk to people. To women. To men. To young people. To health care workers. Even to someone in the governemnt responsible for family planning and the two-child policy. I'm not sure how far I'm going to get in any of that, though. I'm busy, I don't speak Vietnamese, and I have absolutely zero contacts in the field. (Oh, actually, Lan Anh's mom is an ob-gyn, so maybe that's a start at least.)
I was also excited to find the Marie Stopes International organization in Vietnam. In university, I wrote a big term paper about Marie Stopes and women's sexual agency in 1920s Europe, so the organization sounded interesting to me anyway. But upon further reading, I realized that this organization is doing some great things. It's reaching out to poor, rural women and educating them about reproduction, family planning, and overall health, and providing them with clinical reproductive health services. It's motto is "Children by choice, not by chance." Yes, m'am.
I would love to work with this agency, or one like it. Family planning, access to sexual and reproductive information, and women's reproductive rights are issues that I can see becoming a possible career path for me. You know, since I have such an extensive background in the field. :) I'm now thinking about staying a second year in Vietnam, so maybe I'll have the opportunity to get more involved.
In the meantime, I'm just looking forward to further educating myself about the issue.
- IUD's are the most common form of birth control here, with 67 percent of married couples using modern birth control. (UNFPA)
- Vietnam has the highest abortion rate in Asia and one of the highest rates in the world. The numbers work out to an average of 2.5 abortions per woman. (Marie Stopes International)
- 44 percent of rural women still have babies at home. (MSI)
- One woman dies of unsafe abortion every week in Viet Nam. (MSI)
- There is limited access to diverse contraceptive choices. Contraceptive prevalence of modern methods is 52.6%. (MSI)
- Maternal mortality is high (at 29.9/1000), especially in the central highlands and northern mountainous regions. (MSI)
- The number of women using IUDs declined by 10% in Hanoi from this time last year. (Vietnam News)
- The two-child policy isn't as successful as planners were hoping. (Vietnam News)
- The number of births per day in HCMC has recently doubled. (Vietnam News)
I was happy to find several reports on family planning and contraception in Vietnam; now I just need to find the time to read them all. And find a lot more information. I just have so many questions. What types of contraceptive are available, and to whom? And are the contraceptives quality? What type of sex- and family planning education is provided, and to whom? What do people think about sex, sexuality, family planning (and more specifically, the various forms of contraceptives)? Apparently there's a serious stigma against condoms here, a phenomenon which is, as far as I can tell, totally unrelated to the infamously shoddy quality of the locally-made ones. (So I've been told!!!) And I'm interested in issues surrounding abortion, as well. Despite its apparent prevalence, I read that there's still a stigma against it--which leads to women getting whatever the vietnamese equivalent of a "back alley" abortion is, and thus the 1 death per week...
Clearly I need to narrow down a bit, but for the time being I'm glad to read everything I can get my hands on about the issue. But reading isn't enough, I don't think. I need to talk to people. To women. To men. To young people. To health care workers. Even to someone in the governemnt responsible for family planning and the two-child policy. I'm not sure how far I'm going to get in any of that, though. I'm busy, I don't speak Vietnamese, and I have absolutely zero contacts in the field. (Oh, actually, Lan Anh's mom is an ob-gyn, so maybe that's a start at least.)
I was also excited to find the Marie Stopes International organization in Vietnam. In university, I wrote a big term paper about Marie Stopes and women's sexual agency in 1920s Europe, so the organization sounded interesting to me anyway. But upon further reading, I realized that this organization is doing some great things. It's reaching out to poor, rural women and educating them about reproduction, family planning, and overall health, and providing them with clinical reproductive health services. It's motto is "Children by choice, not by chance." Yes, m'am.I would love to work with this agency, or one like it. Family planning, access to sexual and reproductive information, and women's reproductive rights are issues that I can see becoming a possible career path for me. You know, since I have such an extensive background in the field. :) I'm now thinking about staying a second year in Vietnam, so maybe I'll have the opportunity to get more involved.
In the meantime, I'm just looking forward to further educating myself about the issue.
24 October 2008
Changing of the seasons
I've heralded the start of monsoon season before, but I think it's for real this time. The fact has been confirmed by multiple locals, including Monsieur Banana. And it feels like a true change of season, like summer morphing into fall back in the States. And I couldn't be happier about it. I have been craving fall and winter--I miss cold seasons almost more than I miss anything else. And even though it's not cold here by any means, the variation in temperature and weather is satiating my autumnal needs.
On Wednesday morning I awoke to torrential rains. By the time I left for class, though, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. Walking to the classroom building, I was actually cold. I had chill bumps even! And everything was so beautiful....the sky was gray, the water was gray, the clouds were gray. Looking out over the sea, I couldn't even make out Hon Do Island or the surrounding mountains, as both were shrouded in a dense fog. There was only an expansive grayness, a monochrome abyss whose depth and nature seemed unknowable....Even in the rain, this place takes on an alternative beauty, so different from the appeal of beachy, sunny days.
During class, the rain started up again. The students were doing more presentations. For a second I drifted into a daydream--no, not a daydream, almost a trance, induced by the pattering of the rain and the rhythmic echo of the gong from Hon Do Island...another moment where I could barely understand my good fortune, or how my life could be so wonderful...
This change of weather is proving quite beneficial to my spirits, not that they were low. But it feels good to have something other than the intense sun, the humidity, the relentless heat. It's helping me cope with a climate that varies little over the course of the year. Even this mild drop in temperature, though--it's still in the 80s--is kicking my body into autumn/winter mode. I'm finding myself craving lattes and pumpkin bread and hot tea and barley soup. All things cold weather and cozy. So far I've replaced them with a hot bowl of pho and a fresh demi-baguette. But if/when I cave and buy the hot water maker, coffee and tea will also be possibilities!
The rain has also been beneficial for my productivity level. It's keeping me from the beach, and at my desk, working, instead. Plus, I'm always more productive in the winters--this time last year I was taking an overloaded course-schedule (for no reason other than masochism), training for a half marathon, learning French, (trying) to learn the guitar, and taking up yoga. And this week has been an especially good one to increase my output. I've been very busy with classes (including some new ones), planning the English club, studying Vietnamese, planning stuff for Sam's visit, and being the go-between for students and profs here, and the consulate in HCMC, about a scholarship opportunity for Vietnamese undergrads.
Next week, though, will be a breeze. A foreign company is coming to the University to do all these workshops for the faculty, so most (if not all) of my classes are canceled. But I'm working for it--English club prep today, an all-day workshop tomorrow, English club Sunday morning, workshop and class on Monday. Then, on Tuesday, Sam comes....
I'll kind of miss my classes though. They're so entertaining sometimes. On Tuesday, for example, in my listening class, the students were sharing with their classmates what English-language programs they'd been listening to. One student raised her hand, and when I came to her desk, she pointed at her notebook and said, "Teacher, we don't understand this news story". It said something like "Michigan man arrested for lewd behavior. So-and-so was charged with indecent exposure for trying to solicit sexual favors from a vacuum at a drive-through car wash." I laughed and tried to figure out the best way to explain this to my students who, I assume, are lacking in sexual education and/or experience. Plus, I needed to explain this to a group of 3 girls and 1 boy, and the mixed company only increased the awkwardness. I decided to just explain the details of the vacuum cleaner, and eventually the boy understood and started laughing too. I let him explain everything to the three girls.
Wednesday afternoon found me at a new nail shop with Lien, who is quickly becoming one of my better friends here. The nail shop was a bit further away (we went by motorbike! Yay!), and was owned by a friend of Lien's who apparently worked for "a famous nailshop in Ho Chi Minh City." Despite her elite nail design background, her rates were lower than the other (not as nice) nail shop we went to last time. For 15,000 dong I got a nice french manicure and some little flowers on my toes. The latter were a big hit with the other girls in my building; Hong (who lives upstairs) even took a photo of my toes with her cell phone so she could ask for the same design next time she goes to a nail shop! I didn't think it would happen, but I'm becoming a fan of the toenails with simple white flowers.
Thursday also involved an exciting outing. I was supposed to have class at 2:40, but when Lan Anh (who I co-teach with) came to pick me up for class, she said "I have an idea! Why don't we cut the class and go to the institute to get your vaccine?" A little backstory: I had asked my boss, Ms Hong, how I could get a Japanese Encephalitis vaccine. I didn't get it in the states, for several reasons, and Sam has been freaking out about the possibility of me catching the disease. He might be overly-concerned but he's at least right that I need to get the vaccine. Ms. Hong had delegated the task of helping me get the vaccine to Lan Anh, and apparently she decided that Thursday during classtime would be the best opportunity since the Institute (the Pasteur Institute) wouldn't be as busy. So, after informing the class that today's lesson would be cancelled, we drove off on her motorbike to the Pasteur Institute.
When we arrived, and went into the lobby to ask about my getting the vaccine, the man informed us that I couldn't get the vaccine since I'm 22. He explained that they only vaccinate children under 15, because over that age it's uncommon to be infected with Japanese Encephalitis. I tried to explain to him (through Lan Anh, who was translating) that the CDC said otherwise, that my 24 year-old friend got the vaccine in Hanoi two months ago, and that I needed the shot. He was polite, but didn't seem interested in helping us come up with any creative solutions for my problem. The situation seemed bleak. We decided to ask another female clerk if there was anywhere else in the city where I could get the vaccine. Thankfully, this woman was much more helpful. She simply got up and went and talked to the doctor about my situation. Problem solved. I just needed to go talk to the doctor and answer a few questions about my medical history. I was even rushed to the front of the line (at least 50 people were waiting). I asked Lan Anh why I was getting to go before all these people who had been waiting. She explained that they just give priority to foreigners. This made me feel a little uncomfortable, a little guilty--it seemed a little unfair that I, an outsider, especially an American, would get better treatment. It's definitely not the first time I've received special treatment here, but it's making me increasingly uncomfortable sometimes. Lan Anh assured me not to worry, that as a culture the Vietnamese are just very hospital.
When I went into the doctor's office, another Vietnamese woman came in with me. So much for doctor-patient confidentiality. Of course, the other woman didn't speak English, so it wasn't a big deal. And I wouldn't have cared anyway. I was just a little thrown off by the different medical protocol. The doctor spoke good English, which I wasn't expecting. Lan Anh didn't have to translate a single word. He asked me if I had any problems with vaccines in the past, if I was healthy, etc. He said that in Vietnam they only immunize children, but since I "come from Europe" I "must be vaccinated". I still dont exactly understand--maybe Vietnamese people are less resistant to the Japanese Encephalitis or something? Either way, he approved me to get the vaccine and I off I went to pay, back to the desk with the same man who had earlier refused me. I had brought over 1,000,000 dong with me, because I didn't know how much the vaccine would cost. I was shocked when the woman told me how much to pay, though--40,000 dong. I thought I heard her wrong, and asked Lan Anh to be sure. I was right. 40,000 dong. That's $2.42. In America the same shot was going to cost me $180. And in Hanoi, at the western Family Medical Practice, it would have cost me $45. I realized I should have waited to get all my vaccines here!
After paying, I went into the room where I would get the shot. I found three young female nurses just hanging out--much like the young women I saw hanging out in the nailshop when I had gone the day before. I suddenly felt very nervous. The women looked young. Had they received proper training? Any training? Would they give me the correct vaccine? My body began to tense up, my heart quickened. As I'm aging I'm finding myself getting worse about things like shots, anyway, and at an Institute in Vietnam, where I couldn't read anything, couldn't ask questions on my own, I felt especially uneasy. I tried to calm down--I didn't want to pass out after the shot or anything. I attempted to monitor everything--I watched to make sure the nurse took the vaccine out of a properly working fridge, I made sure she opened a new needle. Everything seemed fine, even though I seem to recall that the woman didn't wear gloves. And the shot barely hurt! The least painful vaccine I've ever gotten, in fact. And today my arm isn't even sore! But the whole ordeal made me realize that I absolutely do not want to end up in a Vietnamese hospital.
Even with the initial complication, the whole vaccine ordeal took less than half an hour. I think they should have had me stay 15 minutes after the shot to make sure I didn't go into seizures--the vaccine itself can have some nasty side effects--but clearly I survived without ill effect. Lan Anh then took me to the figure out how to take the bus to the airport on Tuesday to pick up Sammy. It will be a bit complicated but at 40,000 dong I can't complain--the only other alternative is a taxi at 180,000 dong. It's times like these when I remember that I'm in a developing country with rather undeveloped infrastructure. I easily got to many airports, in many European cities, even ones that I'd never been to before, or ones where I didn't speak the language, using the bus or the metro. It's not quite as simple or easy here... I have to somehow get to the old airport, which is in the city, then wait to catch a bus to the new airport, ride 45 minutes to said airport, wait an hour for Sam to arrive (assuming his flight is on time, which is a questionable assumption), then wait for another bus to take us back to the old airport, then finally take a taxi to the hotel. Not the biggest deal in the world but a little labor-intensive.
The old airport, by the way, is intensely shady. There are all these military people, guards, prohibited areas...and then there's this really nice restaurant where, apparently, people have weddings. The place has got to be a front for something! And if it's not, it would make a great place to shoot a film.
After the market Lan Anh offered to take me to the Dam market, a famous market in the city that I've yet to visit. We first stopped by her house so she could change out of her work clothes. Turns out she lives, literally, right around the corner from one of our favorite vegetarian places. I met her younger brother and saw photos of her parents (her father is a retired cop, her mom in OB-GYN) before we headed off again. I love going to people's homes here--it feels so good to be back in a proper home...
While riding to the market, asking Lan Anh about her mother's work and listening to her explain why her family only had 2 children (to differentiate white collar families from laboring families, apparently), I stepped out on a limb and started to ask Lan Anh about birth control in Vietnam. I'm really interested in sexuality and reproductive rights here, but I still dont know what's appropriate to ask, and what isn't. She explained to me that birth control pills are very common among "white collar" families, but that blue collar families don't have education about these sorts of things. (And/or the access to these things, I assume.) I asked her about cost, as well, since that could prevent many women from using the pill, but she said that it is pretty cheap. "Everything is cheap here!" she added. In addition to my own sheer curiosity about this stuff, it's good practical information as well. Especially if I stay another year and can't get my own ob-gyn to secretly slide me another year's worth of free sample pills!
The market was full of overpriced stuff, souvenirs, and tourists. Not my fav, although I did eye some nice pearls from a guy who quoted me normal, reasonable prices. Lan Anh treated me to some delicious rice cakes with egg, dipped in a sauce of onions and chives, and a smoothie before we headed back home. I had borrowed another teacher's motorbike helmet and the woman needed it to drive home, so we had to rush back....But it was such a serendipitously wonderful afternoon, and a productive one, as well. And I'm so happy to be making good friendships with some Vietnamese girls. It's hard to develop strong friendships here--I mean the ones where you can sit and talk for hours, the ones where you bond over shared ideas and discussion--because of the language barrier, but it would be a tragedy for me to leave this place without having made some wonderful friendships.
Later in the evening, while Katherine and I were drinking bubble tea at our favorite bubble tea joint, Cactus, we saw a female dog nursing a kitten. Talk about peaceful coexistence!
Today has been super rainy. I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of heavy rain. I love waking up to that sound. Unforunately when I woke up again at 8, to go the market, I heard the same sound. No market for us today. I think this might be the beginning of the Monsoon Diet, a new fad that's all the rage in Southeast Asia! When it's raining so much I just don't even want to go out for food sometimes. I ate a mango for breakfast and luckily, around 11:30, it stopped raining enough for us to go get some pho at our new favorite noodle place on the corrner. At 5,000 dong a bowl, it's the cheapest meal around. And with the onslaught of the rainy season, which I am calling "winter" to satisify my own seasonal needs, it's cool enough outside to tolerate--and even want!--a steaming bowl of soup.
It rained all afternoon, though, even through our 3 and a half hour English club meeting/rehearsal. We had to wear our heavy-duty ponchos while we biked into town tonight, as well. We met Lene and Maiken for one last dinner before they fly back to Tromso tomorrow. Another goodbye. I'm really sad to see them go. I loved spending time with them. And as much I as love being the lone white girl, it's nice to have the company of more English speakers with whom you can just have a normal conversation. They invited us to Norway, an offer I'd love to take advantage of but I dont see it happening any time soon, unfortunately. I do hope I see them again, though. It's really not a total impossibility. I'll be in Europe again and they'll probably be in America again at some point. Lene might even be back teaching here next year, and there's an even greater chance I'll still be here again next year. You just never know. The universe works in such mysterious ways.
Tomorrow will start with a workshop on lesson planning at 7:30 am. Not my ideal way to spend a saturday but I can't imagine it will be too bad. Even if it's miserably dull I can entertain myself in my head. :) There's plenty of stuff to daydream about: the leaves changing, roasted pumpkin seeds, Thanksgiving with my grandfather, cozy oversized sweaters, a warm fireplace, my favorite restaurants, going out dancing on 80s night at the dame, the concerts of one of my favorite bands, who I learned today will be playing in Lexington, Louisville and Nashville (of course they wait to play so close until I'm in Asia!). Even the worst stuff here, in my experience, isn't intolerable. And if it approach such a level, I can always just look out the window, to the sea, and everything instantly becomes so much better.
Currently (still) listening: Changing of the Seasons, by Ane Brun, which I haven't turned off since buying.
On Wednesday morning I awoke to torrential rains. By the time I left for class, though, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. Walking to the classroom building, I was actually cold. I had chill bumps even! And everything was so beautiful....the sky was gray, the water was gray, the clouds were gray. Looking out over the sea, I couldn't even make out Hon Do Island or the surrounding mountains, as both were shrouded in a dense fog. There was only an expansive grayness, a monochrome abyss whose depth and nature seemed unknowable....Even in the rain, this place takes on an alternative beauty, so different from the appeal of beachy, sunny days.
During class, the rain started up again. The students were doing more presentations. For a second I drifted into a daydream--no, not a daydream, almost a trance, induced by the pattering of the rain and the rhythmic echo of the gong from Hon Do Island...another moment where I could barely understand my good fortune, or how my life could be so wonderful...
This change of weather is proving quite beneficial to my spirits, not that they were low. But it feels good to have something other than the intense sun, the humidity, the relentless heat. It's helping me cope with a climate that varies little over the course of the year. Even this mild drop in temperature, though--it's still in the 80s--is kicking my body into autumn/winter mode. I'm finding myself craving lattes and pumpkin bread and hot tea and barley soup. All things cold weather and cozy. So far I've replaced them with a hot bowl of pho and a fresh demi-baguette. But if/when I cave and buy the hot water maker, coffee and tea will also be possibilities!
The rain has also been beneficial for my productivity level. It's keeping me from the beach, and at my desk, working, instead. Plus, I'm always more productive in the winters--this time last year I was taking an overloaded course-schedule (for no reason other than masochism), training for a half marathon, learning French, (trying) to learn the guitar, and taking up yoga. And this week has been an especially good one to increase my output. I've been very busy with classes (including some new ones), planning the English club, studying Vietnamese, planning stuff for Sam's visit, and being the go-between for students and profs here, and the consulate in HCMC, about a scholarship opportunity for Vietnamese undergrads.
Next week, though, will be a breeze. A foreign company is coming to the University to do all these workshops for the faculty, so most (if not all) of my classes are canceled. But I'm working for it--English club prep today, an all-day workshop tomorrow, English club Sunday morning, workshop and class on Monday. Then, on Tuesday, Sam comes....
I'll kind of miss my classes though. They're so entertaining sometimes. On Tuesday, for example, in my listening class, the students were sharing with their classmates what English-language programs they'd been listening to. One student raised her hand, and when I came to her desk, she pointed at her notebook and said, "Teacher, we don't understand this news story". It said something like "Michigan man arrested for lewd behavior. So-and-so was charged with indecent exposure for trying to solicit sexual favors from a vacuum at a drive-through car wash." I laughed and tried to figure out the best way to explain this to my students who, I assume, are lacking in sexual education and/or experience. Plus, I needed to explain this to a group of 3 girls and 1 boy, and the mixed company only increased the awkwardness. I decided to just explain the details of the vacuum cleaner, and eventually the boy understood and started laughing too. I let him explain everything to the three girls.
Wednesday afternoon found me at a new nail shop with Lien, who is quickly becoming one of my better friends here. The nail shop was a bit further away (we went by motorbike! Yay!), and was owned by a friend of Lien's who apparently worked for "a famous nailshop in Ho Chi Minh City." Despite her elite nail design background, her rates were lower than the other (not as nice) nail shop we went to last time. For 15,000 dong I got a nice french manicure and some little flowers on my toes. The latter were a big hit with the other girls in my building; Hong (who lives upstairs) even took a photo of my toes with her cell phone so she could ask for the same design next time she goes to a nail shop! I didn't think it would happen, but I'm becoming a fan of the toenails with simple white flowers.
Thursday also involved an exciting outing. I was supposed to have class at 2:40, but when Lan Anh (who I co-teach with) came to pick me up for class, she said "I have an idea! Why don't we cut the class and go to the institute to get your vaccine?" A little backstory: I had asked my boss, Ms Hong, how I could get a Japanese Encephalitis vaccine. I didn't get it in the states, for several reasons, and Sam has been freaking out about the possibility of me catching the disease. He might be overly-concerned but he's at least right that I need to get the vaccine. Ms. Hong had delegated the task of helping me get the vaccine to Lan Anh, and apparently she decided that Thursday during classtime would be the best opportunity since the Institute (the Pasteur Institute) wouldn't be as busy. So, after informing the class that today's lesson would be cancelled, we drove off on her motorbike to the Pasteur Institute.
When we arrived, and went into the lobby to ask about my getting the vaccine, the man informed us that I couldn't get the vaccine since I'm 22. He explained that they only vaccinate children under 15, because over that age it's uncommon to be infected with Japanese Encephalitis. I tried to explain to him (through Lan Anh, who was translating) that the CDC said otherwise, that my 24 year-old friend got the vaccine in Hanoi two months ago, and that I needed the shot. He was polite, but didn't seem interested in helping us come up with any creative solutions for my problem. The situation seemed bleak. We decided to ask another female clerk if there was anywhere else in the city where I could get the vaccine. Thankfully, this woman was much more helpful. She simply got up and went and talked to the doctor about my situation. Problem solved. I just needed to go talk to the doctor and answer a few questions about my medical history. I was even rushed to the front of the line (at least 50 people were waiting). I asked Lan Anh why I was getting to go before all these people who had been waiting. She explained that they just give priority to foreigners. This made me feel a little uncomfortable, a little guilty--it seemed a little unfair that I, an outsider, especially an American, would get better treatment. It's definitely not the first time I've received special treatment here, but it's making me increasingly uncomfortable sometimes. Lan Anh assured me not to worry, that as a culture the Vietnamese are just very hospital.
When I went into the doctor's office, another Vietnamese woman came in with me. So much for doctor-patient confidentiality. Of course, the other woman didn't speak English, so it wasn't a big deal. And I wouldn't have cared anyway. I was just a little thrown off by the different medical protocol. The doctor spoke good English, which I wasn't expecting. Lan Anh didn't have to translate a single word. He asked me if I had any problems with vaccines in the past, if I was healthy, etc. He said that in Vietnam they only immunize children, but since I "come from Europe" I "must be vaccinated". I still dont exactly understand--maybe Vietnamese people are less resistant to the Japanese Encephalitis or something? Either way, he approved me to get the vaccine and I off I went to pay, back to the desk with the same man who had earlier refused me. I had brought over 1,000,000 dong with me, because I didn't know how much the vaccine would cost. I was shocked when the woman told me how much to pay, though--40,000 dong. I thought I heard her wrong, and asked Lan Anh to be sure. I was right. 40,000 dong. That's $2.42. In America the same shot was going to cost me $180. And in Hanoi, at the western Family Medical Practice, it would have cost me $45. I realized I should have waited to get all my vaccines here!
After paying, I went into the room where I would get the shot. I found three young female nurses just hanging out--much like the young women I saw hanging out in the nailshop when I had gone the day before. I suddenly felt very nervous. The women looked young. Had they received proper training? Any training? Would they give me the correct vaccine? My body began to tense up, my heart quickened. As I'm aging I'm finding myself getting worse about things like shots, anyway, and at an Institute in Vietnam, where I couldn't read anything, couldn't ask questions on my own, I felt especially uneasy. I tried to calm down--I didn't want to pass out after the shot or anything. I attempted to monitor everything--I watched to make sure the nurse took the vaccine out of a properly working fridge, I made sure she opened a new needle. Everything seemed fine, even though I seem to recall that the woman didn't wear gloves. And the shot barely hurt! The least painful vaccine I've ever gotten, in fact. And today my arm isn't even sore! But the whole ordeal made me realize that I absolutely do not want to end up in a Vietnamese hospital.
Even with the initial complication, the whole vaccine ordeal took less than half an hour. I think they should have had me stay 15 minutes after the shot to make sure I didn't go into seizures--the vaccine itself can have some nasty side effects--but clearly I survived without ill effect. Lan Anh then took me to the figure out how to take the bus to the airport on Tuesday to pick up Sammy. It will be a bit complicated but at 40,000 dong I can't complain--the only other alternative is a taxi at 180,000 dong. It's times like these when I remember that I'm in a developing country with rather undeveloped infrastructure. I easily got to many airports, in many European cities, even ones that I'd never been to before, or ones where I didn't speak the language, using the bus or the metro. It's not quite as simple or easy here... I have to somehow get to the old airport, which is in the city, then wait to catch a bus to the new airport, ride 45 minutes to said airport, wait an hour for Sam to arrive (assuming his flight is on time, which is a questionable assumption), then wait for another bus to take us back to the old airport, then finally take a taxi to the hotel. Not the biggest deal in the world but a little labor-intensive.
The old airport, by the way, is intensely shady. There are all these military people, guards, prohibited areas...and then there's this really nice restaurant where, apparently, people have weddings. The place has got to be a front for something! And if it's not, it would make a great place to shoot a film.
After the market Lan Anh offered to take me to the Dam market, a famous market in the city that I've yet to visit. We first stopped by her house so she could change out of her work clothes. Turns out she lives, literally, right around the corner from one of our favorite vegetarian places. I met her younger brother and saw photos of her parents (her father is a retired cop, her mom in OB-GYN) before we headed off again. I love going to people's homes here--it feels so good to be back in a proper home...
While riding to the market, asking Lan Anh about her mother's work and listening to her explain why her family only had 2 children (to differentiate white collar families from laboring families, apparently), I stepped out on a limb and started to ask Lan Anh about birth control in Vietnam. I'm really interested in sexuality and reproductive rights here, but I still dont know what's appropriate to ask, and what isn't. She explained to me that birth control pills are very common among "white collar" families, but that blue collar families don't have education about these sorts of things. (And/or the access to these things, I assume.) I asked her about cost, as well, since that could prevent many women from using the pill, but she said that it is pretty cheap. "Everything is cheap here!" she added. In addition to my own sheer curiosity about this stuff, it's good practical information as well. Especially if I stay another year and can't get my own ob-gyn to secretly slide me another year's worth of free sample pills!
The market was full of overpriced stuff, souvenirs, and tourists. Not my fav, although I did eye some nice pearls from a guy who quoted me normal, reasonable prices. Lan Anh treated me to some delicious rice cakes with egg, dipped in a sauce of onions and chives, and a smoothie before we headed back home. I had borrowed another teacher's motorbike helmet and the woman needed it to drive home, so we had to rush back....But it was such a serendipitously wonderful afternoon, and a productive one, as well. And I'm so happy to be making good friendships with some Vietnamese girls. It's hard to develop strong friendships here--I mean the ones where you can sit and talk for hours, the ones where you bond over shared ideas and discussion--because of the language barrier, but it would be a tragedy for me to leave this place without having made some wonderful friendships.
Later in the evening, while Katherine and I were drinking bubble tea at our favorite bubble tea joint, Cactus, we saw a female dog nursing a kitten. Talk about peaceful coexistence!
Today has been super rainy. I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of heavy rain. I love waking up to that sound. Unforunately when I woke up again at 8, to go the market, I heard the same sound. No market for us today. I think this might be the beginning of the Monsoon Diet, a new fad that's all the rage in Southeast Asia! When it's raining so much I just don't even want to go out for food sometimes. I ate a mango for breakfast and luckily, around 11:30, it stopped raining enough for us to go get some pho at our new favorite noodle place on the corrner. At 5,000 dong a bowl, it's the cheapest meal around. And with the onslaught of the rainy season, which I am calling "winter" to satisify my own seasonal needs, it's cool enough outside to tolerate--and even want!--a steaming bowl of soup.
It rained all afternoon, though, even through our 3 and a half hour English club meeting/rehearsal. We had to wear our heavy-duty ponchos while we biked into town tonight, as well. We met Lene and Maiken for one last dinner before they fly back to Tromso tomorrow. Another goodbye. I'm really sad to see them go. I loved spending time with them. And as much I as love being the lone white girl, it's nice to have the company of more English speakers with whom you can just have a normal conversation. They invited us to Norway, an offer I'd love to take advantage of but I dont see it happening any time soon, unfortunately. I do hope I see them again, though. It's really not a total impossibility. I'll be in Europe again and they'll probably be in America again at some point. Lene might even be back teaching here next year, and there's an even greater chance I'll still be here again next year. You just never know. The universe works in such mysterious ways.
Tomorrow will start with a workshop on lesson planning at 7:30 am. Not my ideal way to spend a saturday but I can't imagine it will be too bad. Even if it's miserably dull I can entertain myself in my head. :) There's plenty of stuff to daydream about: the leaves changing, roasted pumpkin seeds, Thanksgiving with my grandfather, cozy oversized sweaters, a warm fireplace, my favorite restaurants, going out dancing on 80s night at the dame, the concerts of one of my favorite bands, who I learned today will be playing in Lexington, Louisville and Nashville (of course they wait to play so close until I'm in Asia!). Even the worst stuff here, in my experience, isn't intolerable. And if it approach such a level, I can always just look out the window, to the sea, and everything instantly becomes so much better.
Currently (still) listening: Changing of the Seasons, by Ane Brun, which I haven't turned off since buying.
21 October 2008
Not what I want to read.
I can't sleep, and just found this headline: "Obama lead shrinks in national poll".
Those numbers are just too close for comfort. Now I definitely won't be able to sleep.
Those numbers are just too close for comfort. Now I definitely won't be able to sleep.
20 October 2008
Vietnamese Women's Day, take two
Although the university celebrated Vietnamese Women's Day on Friday (see previous post), the actual holiday is today, 20 October. Apparently all the women were too busy on Mondays to hold an event today. Go figure.
At any rate, today has been absolutely lovely. I woke up a few minutes early to make sure I had time for my sticky-rice-and-soy-milk routine before teaching at 7am. Not only have I become more a morning person, but I've also become more of a breakfast person since arriving in Nha Trang. (Although I guess the two developments are related!) And I'm becoming quite adept at communicating what I want to the sticky rice (xoi) vendor. Of course, it's usually some variation of the following: one sticky rice to go, two soy milks to go, one with ice (for immediate consumption) and one without ice (to be refrigerated for a pre-bed snack). While the rest of my vietnamese still sucks, I have my sticky rice lingo down!
In class, some students were doing a presentation on Angkor Wat. I remembered watching a Discovery Channel special on Angkor Wat when I was young, probably in primary school or middle school, and thinking I would never get to see the place in my lifetime. And now here I am, a plane-ride away from Siem Reap and with the Angkor temples at the top of my to-visit list, if for no other reason to prove my pre-teen self wrong. But of course that's not the only reason.
And after thanking whatever twist of fate brought me this close to Angkor, after all, I found receiving a bouquet of flowers from my students, who wished me health, happiness, and "to become even more beautiful". Extemporaneous speaking skills, take two. I again issued thanks for being welcomed at the university, explained how much I love this place and how happy I am to be here, and how excited I am to be a part of Women's Day. And I made another statement--albeit less bland, this time--about the importance of this holiday and of recognizing women's achievements and working for their further progress in society. Ok, I admit--still a little tame, but I need to watch what I say here.
On top of all of this, the view from my classroom at 7am is spectacular. How is this my life?
Class was followed by some lesson planning with my co-teacher, Khanh. Afterwards, Katherine and I were escorted to the Language Center office to discuss some more teaching opportunities, and to receive even more women's day gifts--another thing of flowers and....a mysterious wrapped giftbox. As we walked home, we tried to list all the possible contents of the box.
We open our boxes to find that we had each received....a boat. Made out of seashells. And with questionable craftsmanship, as glue was visible all over the place. There was nothing to do but laugh. I had been told that I would receive money for Women's Day, so the boat was a little surprising. And definitely more comical, if not at at all practical!
I set the boat on my desk beside my collection of flowers (although my desk will not be its permanent home!), and set to cleaning my room, preparing lessons, eating lunch, talking to Sam about how and where we're going to watch the election results while he's here, reading the news (cheers to colin powell, google's new "mail googles" feature, nancy spero at the reina sofia, and angelina jolie being hotter and more incredible than ever; jeers to madonna getting divored and mccain-palin being embarrassing). I'm feeling a renewed sense of productivity today and I worked right through naptime. Soon enough it was time for teaching again, and I plodded off to G2, dreading the three periods in an un-airconditioned classroom. But it was a fabulous class, in the end. The building is right over the sea so there's a nice breeze, exploited with open windows and doors, and fans. And I really like this class of kids. They're first year English majors, attentive, easy-going, active. And there are some really spunky ones: A girl who chose "Bean" as her English name (re-christening them was not my idea, might I add); a guy who's my age and has long hair and blue-tinted glasses; an outspoken girl with great pronunciation; and I even noticed today that a new student chose "Carrot" has her name. I pointed out the latter development to my co-teacher, who was immediately concerned about the legitimacy of the girl's pseudonym. I explained to her that I thought the name was fine--people in America have all kinds of nontraditional names. Apple, Phinneus, Pilot Inspektor, Moon Unit. And if we're going to make these kids pick new names, we should at least let them choose whatever the hell they want, as long as it's in English. The girl, totally unaware that her new name was potentially endangered, got to keep Carrot.
And of course, the students of this class, too, offered me some flowers and well wishes for Women's Day. Repeat twice previous "Thanks and here's to the progress of Women" statement, which at this point is no longer extemporaneous but nearly memorized by heart.
I really need to take pictures of the view from my classroom at 5pm--the sea, the mountains, the evening sun glowing over the pagoda on Hon Do Island. I can't get over what a beautiful place I live in. Really, it's just mindblowing most days. Even during class today, I would catch a glimpse out the window and would just be struck by how gorgeous it is here. I would have to keep myself from audibly saying "Oh my god..." Again, how is this my life?
For dinner this evening we met Lene and Maiken (visiting Norwegian prof and her daughter, respectively) for dinner at Thien Y, our favorite low-budg vegetarian joint. Lene treated us to dinner since we helped her edit an article she submitted to a journal. It was really my pleasure helping though, if for no other reason than that the article was quite interesting. It was about gendered research into entrepreneurial networks--just my thing! Dinner, of course, was followed my smoothies at Tra, our favorite smoothie place. Katherine and I do try to mix it up sometimes but we're really starting to wear a path.
Back at home, I settled in to do some work but was interrupted by three visitors. The first was Duan, one of our two best guy friends here, who brought me a wonderful gift--a potted cactus that flowers! Yes, a cactus flower! (I think only one reader will get this reference but the rest should be assured that cactus flowers do have some significance to me :). ) The gift was really perfect, and the boys are so sweet to give me such a generous gift.
The second knock on my door came from Kamrul, who came to wish me a happy women's day, of course, and to ask if I was feeling better. I was a little less than 100% this weekend; in fact, I was a little worried I was getting shingles. But I took it especially easy on Sunday (hard to do when most of my days, even busy ones, aren't particularly taxing) and curled up in bed and watched one of my favorite rom-coms, KISSING JESSICA STEIN. I thanked him for the warm wishes and assured him I'm feeling a bit better.
My final visitor was Steve. I opened the door and he said with a smile, "I'm about to really screw you over." Confused, I noticed two big black bags in his arms. He opened one and extended it to me, to reveal....a fishbowl and goldfish! He explained that he thought I probably had enough Women's Day flowers, so he got me these instead. I was ECSTATIC. I squealed and jumped up and down and threw my arms around him. And kept jumping. (I also jumped about the cactus, I might add.) I had fish in the States that I loved, and I'm just so happy to have some little friends in my room! (Other than the lizards.) Steve had picked out a lovely fishbowl with shell-shaped feet, and had even prepared water for the bowl and bought fish food. The man thinks ahead. I continued to bounce around until he had finished helping me set up the whole thing, and hugged him one more time for good measure.
(I'd like to add this this incredibly kind gesture from Steve is on top of his recent generosity in letting Sam borrow his bicycle while he's here. Steve's been going out of his way to make sure the bike is a), still here [it was in the university parking service, which had "lost" it for a while] and b), in perfect working order. So, so kind.)
final women's day bounty
new friends, Trac and Nhi, named after the Trung Sisters, who I thought deserved some mention on Vietnamese Women's Day.
It's hard to beat 2006's "Dia della Donna" (spent wandering around the Uffizi on lovely morning in Florence and, later in the evening, in Vernazza, Cinque Terre, Italy, enjoying home-made pesto gnocchi and Cinque Terre wine with Sam) but today was a close second.
I was dragging a tiny bit this weekend, but today I'm feeling rejuvenated for no particular reason. I'm feeling more motivated. I'm back to my almost disgustingly-happy self. So, so, so happy. Today in my second class I realized I was walking around with this goofy smile on my face that I could barely control. And it wasn't just about women's day. In fact, it was almost entirely unrelated to women's day. It's just a general, overall, seemingly intrinsic happiness that I've discovered within myself. Like discovering a little "eternal flame" inside. Or like looking out at the ocean from my classroom and thinking that maybe, just maybe, the water could go on forever...
Currently listening: Changing of the Seasons, by Ane Brun (which I just bought from iTunes as a Women's Day present to myself, especially since I haven't spent hardly any money lately!)
At any rate, today has been absolutely lovely. I woke up a few minutes early to make sure I had time for my sticky-rice-and-soy-milk routine before teaching at 7am. Not only have I become more a morning person, but I've also become more of a breakfast person since arriving in Nha Trang. (Although I guess the two developments are related!) And I'm becoming quite adept at communicating what I want to the sticky rice (xoi) vendor. Of course, it's usually some variation of the following: one sticky rice to go, two soy milks to go, one with ice (for immediate consumption) and one without ice (to be refrigerated for a pre-bed snack). While the rest of my vietnamese still sucks, I have my sticky rice lingo down!
In class, some students were doing a presentation on Angkor Wat. I remembered watching a Discovery Channel special on Angkor Wat when I was young, probably in primary school or middle school, and thinking I would never get to see the place in my lifetime. And now here I am, a plane-ride away from Siem Reap and with the Angkor temples at the top of my to-visit list, if for no other reason to prove my pre-teen self wrong. But of course that's not the only reason.
And after thanking whatever twist of fate brought me this close to Angkor, after all, I found receiving a bouquet of flowers from my students, who wished me health, happiness, and "to become even more beautiful". Extemporaneous speaking skills, take two. I again issued thanks for being welcomed at the university, explained how much I love this place and how happy I am to be here, and how excited I am to be a part of Women's Day. And I made another statement--albeit less bland, this time--about the importance of this holiday and of recognizing women's achievements and working for their further progress in society. Ok, I admit--still a little tame, but I need to watch what I say here.
On top of all of this, the view from my classroom at 7am is spectacular. How is this my life?
Class was followed by some lesson planning with my co-teacher, Khanh. Afterwards, Katherine and I were escorted to the Language Center office to discuss some more teaching opportunities, and to receive even more women's day gifts--another thing of flowers and....a mysterious wrapped giftbox. As we walked home, we tried to list all the possible contents of the box.
Katherine: Maybe it's a book. (Shakes the box.) It feels book-like.
Me: Hm...I dont know...(shakes box). I don't think so.
Katherine: Maybe it's a bag?
Me: (shakes box). That would be nice. I've been looking for a new bag for months.
Katherine: (still shaking box). It sounds like there's a bell on it or something.
Me: (Shakes to hear bell sound). I dont hear a bell in mine. Maybe it's a box set of shampoo? Or some other toiletry product? That would be useful.
Katherine: How many kinds of toiletry products are there?
Me: I don't know. Lots. (Shakes box). Oooh! Maybe it's pearls! [Katherine got pearls from the English Department for her birthday.)
Katherine: Nah. Too heavy.
(back in my room, opening the boxes.)
Katherine: If they're bags, do you think we got the same one?
Me: I dont know...Oh...wait...this is definitely not a bag....
We open our boxes to find that we had each received....a boat. Made out of seashells. And with questionable craftsmanship, as glue was visible all over the place. There was nothing to do but laugh. I had been told that I would receive money for Women's Day, so the boat was a little surprising. And definitely more comical, if not at at all practical!
I set the boat on my desk beside my collection of flowers (although my desk will not be its permanent home!), and set to cleaning my room, preparing lessons, eating lunch, talking to Sam about how and where we're going to watch the election results while he's here, reading the news (cheers to colin powell, google's new "mail googles" feature, nancy spero at the reina sofia, and angelina jolie being hotter and more incredible than ever; jeers to madonna getting divored and mccain-palin being embarrassing). I'm feeling a renewed sense of productivity today and I worked right through naptime. Soon enough it was time for teaching again, and I plodded off to G2, dreading the three periods in an un-airconditioned classroom. But it was a fabulous class, in the end. The building is right over the sea so there's a nice breeze, exploited with open windows and doors, and fans. And I really like this class of kids. They're first year English majors, attentive, easy-going, active. And there are some really spunky ones: A girl who chose "Bean" as her English name (re-christening them was not my idea, might I add); a guy who's my age and has long hair and blue-tinted glasses; an outspoken girl with great pronunciation; and I even noticed today that a new student chose "Carrot" has her name. I pointed out the latter development to my co-teacher, who was immediately concerned about the legitimacy of the girl's pseudonym. I explained to her that I thought the name was fine--people in America have all kinds of nontraditional names. Apple, Phinneus, Pilot Inspektor, Moon Unit. And if we're going to make these kids pick new names, we should at least let them choose whatever the hell they want, as long as it's in English. The girl, totally unaware that her new name was potentially endangered, got to keep Carrot.
And of course, the students of this class, too, offered me some flowers and well wishes for Women's Day. Repeat twice previous "Thanks and here's to the progress of Women" statement, which at this point is no longer extemporaneous but nearly memorized by heart.
I really need to take pictures of the view from my classroom at 5pm--the sea, the mountains, the evening sun glowing over the pagoda on Hon Do Island. I can't get over what a beautiful place I live in. Really, it's just mindblowing most days. Even during class today, I would catch a glimpse out the window and would just be struck by how gorgeous it is here. I would have to keep myself from audibly saying "Oh my god..." Again, how is this my life?
For dinner this evening we met Lene and Maiken (visiting Norwegian prof and her daughter, respectively) for dinner at Thien Y, our favorite low-budg vegetarian joint. Lene treated us to dinner since we helped her edit an article she submitted to a journal. It was really my pleasure helping though, if for no other reason than that the article was quite interesting. It was about gendered research into entrepreneurial networks--just my thing! Dinner, of course, was followed my smoothies at Tra, our favorite smoothie place. Katherine and I do try to mix it up sometimes but we're really starting to wear a path.
Back at home, I settled in to do some work but was interrupted by three visitors. The first was Duan, one of our two best guy friends here, who brought me a wonderful gift--a potted cactus that flowers! Yes, a cactus flower! (I think only one reader will get this reference but the rest should be assured that cactus flowers do have some significance to me :). ) The gift was really perfect, and the boys are so sweet to give me such a generous gift.
The second knock on my door came from Kamrul, who came to wish me a happy women's day, of course, and to ask if I was feeling better. I was a little less than 100% this weekend; in fact, I was a little worried I was getting shingles. But I took it especially easy on Sunday (hard to do when most of my days, even busy ones, aren't particularly taxing) and curled up in bed and watched one of my favorite rom-coms, KISSING JESSICA STEIN. I thanked him for the warm wishes and assured him I'm feeling a bit better.
My final visitor was Steve. I opened the door and he said with a smile, "I'm about to really screw you over." Confused, I noticed two big black bags in his arms. He opened one and extended it to me, to reveal....a fishbowl and goldfish! He explained that he thought I probably had enough Women's Day flowers, so he got me these instead. I was ECSTATIC. I squealed and jumped up and down and threw my arms around him. And kept jumping. (I also jumped about the cactus, I might add.) I had fish in the States that I loved, and I'm just so happy to have some little friends in my room! (Other than the lizards.) Steve had picked out a lovely fishbowl with shell-shaped feet, and had even prepared water for the bowl and bought fish food. The man thinks ahead. I continued to bounce around until he had finished helping me set up the whole thing, and hugged him one more time for good measure.
(I'd like to add this this incredibly kind gesture from Steve is on top of his recent generosity in letting Sam borrow his bicycle while he's here. Steve's been going out of his way to make sure the bike is a), still here [it was in the university parking service, which had "lost" it for a while] and b), in perfect working order. So, so kind.)
final women's day bountynew friends, Trac and Nhi, named after the Trung Sisters, who I thought deserved some mention on Vietnamese Women's Day. It's hard to beat 2006's "Dia della Donna" (spent wandering around the Uffizi on lovely morning in Florence and, later in the evening, in Vernazza, Cinque Terre, Italy, enjoying home-made pesto gnocchi and Cinque Terre wine with Sam) but today was a close second.
I was dragging a tiny bit this weekend, but today I'm feeling rejuvenated for no particular reason. I'm feeling more motivated. I'm back to my almost disgustingly-happy self. So, so, so happy. Today in my second class I realized I was walking around with this goofy smile on my face that I could barely control. And it wasn't just about women's day. In fact, it was almost entirely unrelated to women's day. It's just a general, overall, seemingly intrinsic happiness that I've discovered within myself. Like discovering a little "eternal flame" inside. Or like looking out at the ocean from my classroom and thinking that maybe, just maybe, the water could go on forever...
Currently listening: Changing of the Seasons, by Ane Brun (which I just bought from iTunes as a Women's Day present to myself, especially since I haven't spent hardly any money lately!)
18 October 2008
Women's Day, anniversary, and further proof that this world is quite small.
I would like to preface all of this by saying that I was trying to nap but there is some godforsaken noise--hammering? jack hammering? tap dancing?--that's determined to keep me awake. The noise, whatever the hell it is, seems to start right as I drift off, and then quit when I'm wide awake again. For being such a napping culture, it sure is hard to nap here sometimes. Perhaps by the time I'm finished with this blog the noise will be gone? I have found that the best time time to nap is between 12 and 1, so I'm an hour early....
Anyway, yesterday the university celebrated Vietnam's Women's Day, which is technically on Monday. Katherine and I were invited to attend a meeting/celebration at 3pm, followed by some food at 5. We assumed it would be something rather casual, but, as usual, we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. When we arrived, we were ushered to special seats in the front row, and in the opening speech, we were individually thanked by name for...well, I'm not sure what were thanked for since my Vietnamese is terrible still. After a few more speeches (most of which were by men), we were treated to a dance performance. One of the teachers I co-teach with, Lan Anh, was performing and I was excited to see what they'd prepared. She had told me the day before that it was dance in honor of Ho Chi Minh--and even she noted the irony of performing a dance to honor a man on Women's Day. Ho Chi Minh, the....mother?...of us all? The dance seemed to have nothing to do with good Uncle Ho until they whipped out a big portrait of him. One girl held up his framed likeness while all the others danced around him with flowers and eventually got on their knees on the floor and just fawned over him. Of course, all this occured while a larger-than-life-bust of the same man oversaw everything from the stage. At this point, I was a little confused about the theme of the event. This was supposed to be a women's day celebration, right?
Lan Anh, my co-teacher, is bottom right. So pretty!
Lest I be confused, the next main event was all about women. There was a large flowering, tropical plant in the center of the stage. It boasted beautiful purple flowers, but their appeal was overshadowed by all the Christmas decorations--tinsel, ornaments, etc--strung on the tree. Additionally there were little rolled up pieces of paper tied to the branches. One of the teachers, Ms. Oanh, who was translating for us, informed me and Katherine that the papers were questions that women would answer in front of the entire audience. Then she asked if we wouldn't like to go up and answer some questions, too? We kindly, but persistently, refused her generous offer, explaining that we were happy to just listen. Katherine and I both assumed the questions would be trivia about important women in Vietnam's history or something, but we were wrong. Of course we were wrong. But at least we were right to refust to answer, which we quickly realized... it was a damn good thing we didn't agree to answer any questions...
the purple-flowered, christmas-decorated, question-bearing plant, with Uncle Ho approvingly looking on...
The event was some kind of game, quite complicated, with judges, and with three women from every faculty and office each answering a question. Three women from the first faculty got up to take their turn picking a rolled-up question from the tree. After the first question it became quite clear that my expectations about the nature of the inquiries was wrong: The first woman was asked to explain what to do when a nearly one-year-old child won't take the bottle and just wants to be breastfed. Katherine and I just looked at each other, shocked, amused, confused... I found it especially ironic and funny, since the other day I had a dream (during a more successful nap) that I had a baby and was breastfeeding it, and I just hated the baby, absolutely loathed its existence. (No judgment, please! I'm only 23 and really do hate the thought of having a baby right now :) I made some joke about melamine milk (I still can't buy baby formula here, damnit!) to Katherine and waited to hear the next question...
And here are some examples of other questions:
These questions went on and on. For hours. I'm not kidding. And for better or worse, the answering process was intermittently punctuated with more songs from other women, students, and even one man. Finally they let us have a break around 5, to eat some food they'd prepared for us. As is usual, Katherine and I were force-fed fruit and given an armful each of bananas and soursops to take home. We tried to escape before the ceremeony reconvened, but our boss informed us we needed to stay a little longer so that the university could give us a gift. I immediately felt bad for trying to leave and happily returned to a seat in the meeting hall. After a couple more rounds of questions, the head of the Womens' Union interrupted the activities to call Katherine and me up to the front. I had no idea what she was saying, as she was speaking in Vietnamese, but we timidly left our chairs and headed to the front of the meeting hall where some man (maybe the Vice Dean?) gave us each a bouquet of pink roses and lilies. Everyone clapped. The head of the Women's Union extended a mic to us. Katherine took it and promptly handed it to me. Go, go gadget extemporaneous speaking skills! No one told me I'd be making a speech. I thanked everyone (about 40% of the original crowd, as the rest had escaped during the break) for welcoming us to their beautiful university, for inviting us to this lovely celebration and honoring us with flowers. And I made a bland statement about the importance of this holiday and recognizing women's achievements (in weening their children? in convincing their husbands to care for the kids a couple hours a week?). When I concluded, a young teacher (who Katherine and I had dubbed "Sexy Secretary because of her outfit) started chanting "Sing! Sing! Sing! Dance! Dance Dance!" She had been trying to get us to sing or dance all evening, and she just wasnt' giving up! I politely refused by giving the mic back to the head of the Women's Union and returning to my chair.
Back in my seat, though, listening to some speech about the typical life experience of a typical vietnamese woman, I had a flash of what I should have done when Sexy Secretary asked me to sing. I should have burst into rendition, complete with motions, of "Doooooo your ears hang low, do they wobble to a fro, can you tie them in a knot, can you tie them ina bow? Can you throw them over your shoulder like a continental solider? Do your ears, hang, low?" It would have been no worse than "Head Shoulders Knees Toes" or "Yankee Doodle"! I whispered to Katherine the comic possibility occuring in my head, and we started giggling and humming the song and doing mini-hand motions. At that point, we were desperate to entertain ourselves. And we were still confused about this whole women's day thing. Just about babies and husbands? I thought there'd be some mention of the Trung Sisters, at least!
And by that point, it was nearly 6pm. Most of the women had left, because, while they were occupied answering questions about their double-day, they actually had a double-day to tend to--children to pick up, houses to clean, dinners to prepare, husbands to care for, lessons to plan, french classes to attend. Oh, the irony. Katherine and I finally slipped out to go meet her program supervisor who was in town. I really needed a drink after that evening, but I settled for an orange-and-yogurt smoothie instead. And we found a vegetarian sandwich (banh mi chay) stall, to boot!
On the way home from smoothies in the city (which is, by the way, a posisble the title for the upcoming HBO series about my life in Vietnam), some guy on his motorbike drove up beside me (as I was biking) and started talking to me. This happens so often, I really don't like it too much. It makes me nervous, biking with a motorbike 3 inches away while both drivers are distracted trying to make small talk in the guy's inevitably broken English over the noise of the traffic. And the last time this happened, Katherine biked ahead and left me stranded, talking to the guy by myself! I was thankful that she stuck around this time. The guy, who had a girl with him, maybe his girlfriend?, asked me where I was from, if I was married, how long I was here. The standard rotation. I informed him that I lived here and I'm a teacher at the univeristy. He was excited at the news, and started to explain that he had a friend who worked at the university--a foreigner who taught economics here for three weeks. I was so surprised. He was talking about Inaki! Katherine and I laughed in astonishment. Turned out that the guy worked at the hotel where Inaki stayed and had met him there. What a small, small world. Or at least what a small city. We pulled over on the side of the road and exchanged names and numbers so we could meet for coffee sometime. This is the magic of Vietnam--meeting someone, with whom you share a mutual friend, while biking home over the bridge.
Back at home, I answered a knock at my door to find Kamrul holding two red roses. One for Katherine, for women's day. And one for me, not only for women's day but also for my four-year anniversary with Sam, which was yesterday. I was so thankful for his thoughtful gesture and happily added the rose to the vase of flowers I'd received earlier in the evening. My room smells so lovely now, like lilies, which are my favorite....
my flowers, in a lovely vase I bought in Bat Trang pottery village outside of Hanoi
This morning Katherine and I went to the market to get some breakfast and some basil for the bruschetta we're going to make for lunch--we're all about assembled food since we don't have a proper kitchen. But the best part of the market trip this morning was the soundtrack: We arrived at the market and walked towards one of our favorite breakfast stalls and immediately heard....The Backstreet Boys! A total fixture from my childhood. I was in love with each of them, individually, on a rotating basis. We sat down to enjoy a bowl of bun chay--vegetarian noodles, which were delicious--and started singing along to "The Shape of Your Heart." Really? Singing along to the Backstreet Boys at an open-air market in Vietnam at barely 8am? How, exactly, is this my life? The guy who was playing the music, at the stand right next to our noodle lady, apparently didn't like our singing and replaced BSB with some Vietnamese pop. We had no other choice but to nurse our disappointment with the yummy noodles..
I love the market but the meat stuff is bothering me more and more. This morning, as I was buying tofu from my favorite tofu lady, a woman was hacking up an animal skull about 1 foot from me, blood flying, bones breaking. Urgh. Every morning at the market I see the same woman--young, pretty--chopping through animal parts and bones with her big cleaver knife. It's an image of such juxtaposition, in my mind. I think about that woman, going home later, caring for her children, carressing her husband with the same hands that earlier chopped a pig's head and skull into bits.
Enough of that mental image. Time to go make bruschetta with Katherine. No nap today, I guess.
Currently listening: The Milk-eyed Mender, by Joanna Newsom
Anyway, yesterday the university celebrated Vietnam's Women's Day, which is technically on Monday. Katherine and I were invited to attend a meeting/celebration at 3pm, followed by some food at 5. We assumed it would be something rather casual, but, as usual, we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. When we arrived, we were ushered to special seats in the front row, and in the opening speech, we were individually thanked by name for...well, I'm not sure what were thanked for since my Vietnamese is terrible still. After a few more speeches (most of which were by men), we were treated to a dance performance. One of the teachers I co-teach with, Lan Anh, was performing and I was excited to see what they'd prepared. She had told me the day before that it was dance in honor of Ho Chi Minh--and even she noted the irony of performing a dance to honor a man on Women's Day. Ho Chi Minh, the....mother?...of us all? The dance seemed to have nothing to do with good Uncle Ho until they whipped out a big portrait of him. One girl held up his framed likeness while all the others danced around him with flowers and eventually got on their knees on the floor and just fawned over him. Of course, all this occured while a larger-than-life-bust of the same man oversaw everything from the stage. At this point, I was a little confused about the theme of the event. This was supposed to be a women's day celebration, right?
Lan Anh, my co-teacher, is bottom right. So pretty!Lest I be confused, the next main event was all about women. There was a large flowering, tropical plant in the center of the stage. It boasted beautiful purple flowers, but their appeal was overshadowed by all the Christmas decorations--tinsel, ornaments, etc--strung on the tree. Additionally there were little rolled up pieces of paper tied to the branches. One of the teachers, Ms. Oanh, who was translating for us, informed me and Katherine that the papers were questions that women would answer in front of the entire audience. Then she asked if we wouldn't like to go up and answer some questions, too? We kindly, but persistently, refused her generous offer, explaining that we were happy to just listen. Katherine and I both assumed the questions would be trivia about important women in Vietnam's history or something, but we were wrong. Of course we were wrong. But at least we were right to refust to answer, which we quickly realized... it was a damn good thing we didn't agree to answer any questions...
the purple-flowered, christmas-decorated, question-bearing plant, with Uncle Ho approvingly looking on...The event was some kind of game, quite complicated, with judges, and with three women from every faculty and office each answering a question. Three women from the first faculty got up to take their turn picking a rolled-up question from the tree. After the first question it became quite clear that my expectations about the nature of the inquiries was wrong: The first woman was asked to explain what to do when a nearly one-year-old child won't take the bottle and just wants to be breastfed. Katherine and I just looked at each other, shocked, amused, confused... I found it especially ironic and funny, since the other day I had a dream (during a more successful nap) that I had a baby and was breastfeeding it, and I just hated the baby, absolutely loathed its existence. (No judgment, please! I'm only 23 and really do hate the thought of having a baby right now :) I made some joke about melamine milk (I still can't buy baby formula here, damnit!) to Katherine and waited to hear the next question...
And here are some examples of other questions:
- Your husband drinks and smokes all the time, and you want him to stop. What should you do?
- In order to work at the university, you need to learn English by going to night classes a couple times a week, but your husband refuses to care for the children. What should you do?
- (For unmarried women), Is it better to marry a man you love or a man who loves you?
- How can you be a good woman with a full time job and a family? / How do you manage a job and family?
- How do you stay fit and beautiful in middle age? (This question was asked to a young teacher who was probably about 25 but looked all of 16.)
- Your boyfriend is always late every time you plan to meet. What should you do?
These questions went on and on. For hours. I'm not kidding. And for better or worse, the answering process was intermittently punctuated with more songs from other women, students, and even one man. Finally they let us have a break around 5, to eat some food they'd prepared for us. As is usual, Katherine and I were force-fed fruit and given an armful each of bananas and soursops to take home. We tried to escape before the ceremeony reconvened, but our boss informed us we needed to stay a little longer so that the university could give us a gift. I immediately felt bad for trying to leave and happily returned to a seat in the meeting hall. After a couple more rounds of questions, the head of the Womens' Union interrupted the activities to call Katherine and me up to the front. I had no idea what she was saying, as she was speaking in Vietnamese, but we timidly left our chairs and headed to the front of the meeting hall where some man (maybe the Vice Dean?) gave us each a bouquet of pink roses and lilies. Everyone clapped. The head of the Women's Union extended a mic to us. Katherine took it and promptly handed it to me. Go, go gadget extemporaneous speaking skills! No one told me I'd be making a speech. I thanked everyone (about 40% of the original crowd, as the rest had escaped during the break) for welcoming us to their beautiful university, for inviting us to this lovely celebration and honoring us with flowers. And I made a bland statement about the importance of this holiday and recognizing women's achievements (in weening their children? in convincing their husbands to care for the kids a couple hours a week?). When I concluded, a young teacher (who Katherine and I had dubbed "Sexy Secretary because of her outfit) started chanting "Sing! Sing! Sing! Dance! Dance Dance!" She had been trying to get us to sing or dance all evening, and she just wasnt' giving up! I politely refused by giving the mic back to the head of the Women's Union and returning to my chair.
Back in my seat, though, listening to some speech about the typical life experience of a typical vietnamese woman, I had a flash of what I should have done when Sexy Secretary asked me to sing. I should have burst into rendition, complete with motions, of "Doooooo your ears hang low, do they wobble to a fro, can you tie them in a knot, can you tie them ina bow? Can you throw them over your shoulder like a continental solider? Do your ears, hang, low?" It would have been no worse than "Head Shoulders Knees Toes" or "Yankee Doodle"! I whispered to Katherine the comic possibility occuring in my head, and we started giggling and humming the song and doing mini-hand motions. At that point, we were desperate to entertain ourselves. And we were still confused about this whole women's day thing. Just about babies and husbands? I thought there'd be some mention of the Trung Sisters, at least!
And by that point, it was nearly 6pm. Most of the women had left, because, while they were occupied answering questions about their double-day, they actually had a double-day to tend to--children to pick up, houses to clean, dinners to prepare, husbands to care for, lessons to plan, french classes to attend. Oh, the irony. Katherine and I finally slipped out to go meet her program supervisor who was in town. I really needed a drink after that evening, but I settled for an orange-and-yogurt smoothie instead. And we found a vegetarian sandwich (banh mi chay) stall, to boot!
On the way home from smoothies in the city (which is, by the way, a posisble the title for the upcoming HBO series about my life in Vietnam), some guy on his motorbike drove up beside me (as I was biking) and started talking to me. This happens so often, I really don't like it too much. It makes me nervous, biking with a motorbike 3 inches away while both drivers are distracted trying to make small talk in the guy's inevitably broken English over the noise of the traffic. And the last time this happened, Katherine biked ahead and left me stranded, talking to the guy by myself! I was thankful that she stuck around this time. The guy, who had a girl with him, maybe his girlfriend?, asked me where I was from, if I was married, how long I was here. The standard rotation. I informed him that I lived here and I'm a teacher at the univeristy. He was excited at the news, and started to explain that he had a friend who worked at the university--a foreigner who taught economics here for three weeks. I was so surprised. He was talking about Inaki! Katherine and I laughed in astonishment. Turned out that the guy worked at the hotel where Inaki stayed and had met him there. What a small, small world. Or at least what a small city. We pulled over on the side of the road and exchanged names and numbers so we could meet for coffee sometime. This is the magic of Vietnam--meeting someone, with whom you share a mutual friend, while biking home over the bridge.
Back at home, I answered a knock at my door to find Kamrul holding two red roses. One for Katherine, for women's day. And one for me, not only for women's day but also for my four-year anniversary with Sam, which was yesterday. I was so thankful for his thoughtful gesture and happily added the rose to the vase of flowers I'd received earlier in the evening. My room smells so lovely now, like lilies, which are my favorite....
my flowers, in a lovely vase I bought in Bat Trang pottery village outside of HanoiThis morning Katherine and I went to the market to get some breakfast and some basil for the bruschetta we're going to make for lunch--we're all about assembled food since we don't have a proper kitchen. But the best part of the market trip this morning was the soundtrack: We arrived at the market and walked towards one of our favorite breakfast stalls and immediately heard....The Backstreet Boys! A total fixture from my childhood. I was in love with each of them, individually, on a rotating basis. We sat down to enjoy a bowl of bun chay--vegetarian noodles, which were delicious--and started singing along to "The Shape of Your Heart." Really? Singing along to the Backstreet Boys at an open-air market in Vietnam at barely 8am? How, exactly, is this my life? The guy who was playing the music, at the stand right next to our noodle lady, apparently didn't like our singing and replaced BSB with some Vietnamese pop. We had no other choice but to nurse our disappointment with the yummy noodles..
I love the market but the meat stuff is bothering me more and more. This morning, as I was buying tofu from my favorite tofu lady, a woman was hacking up an animal skull about 1 foot from me, blood flying, bones breaking. Urgh. Every morning at the market I see the same woman--young, pretty--chopping through animal parts and bones with her big cleaver knife. It's an image of such juxtaposition, in my mind. I think about that woman, going home later, caring for her children, carressing her husband with the same hands that earlier chopped a pig's head and skull into bits.
Enough of that mental image. Time to go make bruschetta with Katherine. No nap today, I guess.
Currently listening: The Milk-eyed Mender, by Joanna Newsom
16 October 2008
Hotel? Check.
In preparation for Sam's upcoming visit to Nha Trang, I went tonight to find a hotel for us. I'm just not sure how appropriate it would be for him to stay with me in my building--I mean, this isn't Transy! And even though I'm feeling more and more like it would be OK, especially since I was never told otherwise, I'm going to err on the side of caution and just find a hotel for us. I doubt I'd lose my job but I'd like to maintain some respectability around here. (Read: I dont want to be the the American teacher who wears shorts and who has her boyfriend sleep over.) Plus, a little privacy would be nice.
My friend Lien, a Masters student here, took me (on her motorbike!) to find a good place. She assured me I would get a better price if she accompanied me and was so generous in offering her assistance. Her mom had even put in a call to a friend of hers who owns a hotel, but unfortunately it was pretty far away.
I'd been eyeing a hotel called GMC, just a 3 or 4 minute walk down the hill from my building. In addition to its proximity, which is especially important since it's rainy season, the hotel looked clean and modern and has a nice restaurant/cafe attached to it. After checking out Lien's family friend's hotel (which was quite nice, despite its distance), we stopped in to GMC to check it out. The young guy at the reception took us upstairs to show us a room, and it was so lovely! It's not the Hotel de Rome, where we stayed in Berlin, and the curtains were a bit tacky, but the room was spacious, with a big wooden bed, a wardrobe, refrigerator, TV (maybe a DVD player), a nice big bathroom with a real shower and bathtub (!), hot water (not always a given here), and even wifi. And the room has a big balcony that overlooks the sea and Hon Chong Promontory. After seeing all this, I was afraid to hear the cost, but to my pleasant surprise, the room was only 150,000 dong ($9) a night! A total steal, in my opinion. The place is just adorable, and so close, and has the sea view and the restaurant right there...I can't imagine anything more perfect.
the promontory
With the hotel in order, my only other responsibilities to prepare for Sam's arrival are to plan all of our activities (including a possible trip to Hanoi!) and to figure out how to get to and from the airport. The latter chore is proving most challenging, but I really can't complain. Sam, on the other hand, has been frantically preparing for the trip. He's been touring so much lately and had only a couple days in Nashville this week (out of the past month or so) to pack, get everything ready, and get his shots and such. He's really freaking out about the prospect of catching some tropical disease. I've tried to tell him that his biggest health risk is just crossing the street, but as of right now he's still insisting that he wont even eat the ice. I wanted to put money how long he'd go without ice here--I dont think he gets just how hot it is--but he refused my bet. Just for the record, though, I'm guessing he won't make it a full day. :) He's also having a heart attack a day over the fact that I dont have my Japanese Encephalitis vaccine yet. Just yesterday he was lecturing me about it, and I was just laughing and laughing, because he was being so serious. Finally he said "Mallory, this is really starting to piss me off.", which of course only made me laugh more because he is never that stern or harsh to me.
By the time he gets here, I will have been in Vietnam for three months. I can't believe how quickly the time is passing. And I can't believe that it will have been three months since Sam and I last saw each other. We're used to long distance, of course, but the longest we've gone is 6 weeks or so. It's been surprisingly easy, though, these past three months. I guess just because we have our own adventures right now--I have Vietnam, he has the album, the touring. We're both following our bliss, and that's the most important thing for now. It will be so nice to have him here, though. The hardest part about being out here, more or less by by yourself, is not having someone around who really loves you, or who even really, really knows you. It doesn't create a feeling of loneliness--I'm not lonely at all--but maybe just a hint of emotional isolation? I can't yet articulate it, exactly, the feeling...but it does feel like something is lacking, just a little. What's coming to mind is that it feels like a vitamin deficiency whose effects won't be clear until much time has passed....
I'm still 100% happy here, nearly every moment of every day, but I am starting to miss some things a little more than I have been. I'm mainly missing people and the things I used to do with them. This is manifesting itself in my increased efforts to keep in contact with people--I used to be a pretty incompetent penpal but I'm trying to turn that around. And I'm finding myself missing random things or phases from my past. Lately I've really been missing the time I lived with my friends Celia and Suzie in house in Lexington--I remember scraping the ice off my car in the morning, driving to and from school, working late at the writing center in the evenings, stopping at the grocery on the way home, walking the dog (Hamlet), having pasta nights with the girls, watching Smallville with the girls, taking in a male stray cat that I mistook for a female one, making coffee in the mornings and salads in the evenings, hearing the clicking of the water pipes in the winter, getting drunk by myself one night while blasting Justin Timberlake and having my first (and last) experiment with nude feminist body painting... (As Jess says, if alcohol makes us more of who we are then I'm a pop-music-loving, nude, feminist body painter! Among other things at least :)
I'm also missing fall and winter. Despite my current residence in a tropical country, I am, at heart, a winter person. ("Winter" by Kentucky and Tennessee standards, at least!) I love the smell of cold, crisp, winter air, and the smell of a warm, heated building. I love rosy cheeks after being out in the cold. I love winter clothes--I miss sweaters, my favorite brown riding boots, my long wool gray coat, scarves, gloves, winter dresses with tights. I love curling up with a cup of tea and being so cozy while I know how cold it is outside, or finding refuge over a latte in a dimly lit coffee shop... And snow! Don't even get me started on snow!
At the same time, though, I'm starting to feel comfortable with the heat here, and imagining a snowy day almost seems unnatural...
But there's no point going on about things I miss. I've said before that I'm happier than ever here, and that fact remains true. If anything, I'm glad to be missing things from my "old life", because I was so critical about that life and being away is making me more appreciative of little things I had and took for granted.
Meanwhile I have so many things to be happy about here. I'm especially happy about starting to celebrate Vietnam's Women's Days tomorrow! Technically the holiday is on Monday but, for some reason, the festivities are going down tomorrow. From what I gather, there's a meeting/presentation/performance at 3pm, followed by some food...but I never really know what's going on here so I'll just have to wait and see. It will increase my excitement if nothing else. :) I have been told, however, to expect lots of flowers from my students--a nice gesture but I hate the thought of them spending money on me when I know they have so little. I'm really looking forward to Women's Day, though. I have extremely fond memories of an International Women's Day when I was in Italy with Sam, so I'm projecting good things on to this women's day as well.
I'm also happy that my internet has been strong enough for some youtube stalking of Sam:
And in weather news, today was overcast and cooler, it's starting to sprinkle more and more, fewer vendors are out on the street at night, and Monsieur Banana keeps telling me "Peut-être it rains ce soir". One can only guess, Monsieur Banana, one can only guess.
Currently listening: "Way To Normal" by Ben Folds
My friend Lien, a Masters student here, took me (on her motorbike!) to find a good place. She assured me I would get a better price if she accompanied me and was so generous in offering her assistance. Her mom had even put in a call to a friend of hers who owns a hotel, but unfortunately it was pretty far away.
I'd been eyeing a hotel called GMC, just a 3 or 4 minute walk down the hill from my building. In addition to its proximity, which is especially important since it's rainy season, the hotel looked clean and modern and has a nice restaurant/cafe attached to it. After checking out Lien's family friend's hotel (which was quite nice, despite its distance), we stopped in to GMC to check it out. The young guy at the reception took us upstairs to show us a room, and it was so lovely! It's not the Hotel de Rome, where we stayed in Berlin, and the curtains were a bit tacky, but the room was spacious, with a big wooden bed, a wardrobe, refrigerator, TV (maybe a DVD player), a nice big bathroom with a real shower and bathtub (!), hot water (not always a given here), and even wifi. And the room has a big balcony that overlooks the sea and Hon Chong Promontory. After seeing all this, I was afraid to hear the cost, but to my pleasant surprise, the room was only 150,000 dong ($9) a night! A total steal, in my opinion. The place is just adorable, and so close, and has the sea view and the restaurant right there...I can't imagine anything more perfect.
the promontoryWith the hotel in order, my only other responsibilities to prepare for Sam's arrival are to plan all of our activities (including a possible trip to Hanoi!) and to figure out how to get to and from the airport. The latter chore is proving most challenging, but I really can't complain. Sam, on the other hand, has been frantically preparing for the trip. He's been touring so much lately and had only a couple days in Nashville this week (out of the past month or so) to pack, get everything ready, and get his shots and such. He's really freaking out about the prospect of catching some tropical disease. I've tried to tell him that his biggest health risk is just crossing the street, but as of right now he's still insisting that he wont even eat the ice. I wanted to put money how long he'd go without ice here--I dont think he gets just how hot it is--but he refused my bet. Just for the record, though, I'm guessing he won't make it a full day. :) He's also having a heart attack a day over the fact that I dont have my Japanese Encephalitis vaccine yet. Just yesterday he was lecturing me about it, and I was just laughing and laughing, because he was being so serious. Finally he said "Mallory, this is really starting to piss me off.", which of course only made me laugh more because he is never that stern or harsh to me.
By the time he gets here, I will have been in Vietnam for three months. I can't believe how quickly the time is passing. And I can't believe that it will have been three months since Sam and I last saw each other. We're used to long distance, of course, but the longest we've gone is 6 weeks or so. It's been surprisingly easy, though, these past three months. I guess just because we have our own adventures right now--I have Vietnam, he has the album, the touring. We're both following our bliss, and that's the most important thing for now. It will be so nice to have him here, though. The hardest part about being out here, more or less by by yourself, is not having someone around who really loves you, or who even really, really knows you. It doesn't create a feeling of loneliness--I'm not lonely at all--but maybe just a hint of emotional isolation? I can't yet articulate it, exactly, the feeling...but it does feel like something is lacking, just a little. What's coming to mind is that it feels like a vitamin deficiency whose effects won't be clear until much time has passed....
I'm still 100% happy here, nearly every moment of every day, but I am starting to miss some things a little more than I have been. I'm mainly missing people and the things I used to do with them. This is manifesting itself in my increased efforts to keep in contact with people--I used to be a pretty incompetent penpal but I'm trying to turn that around. And I'm finding myself missing random things or phases from my past. Lately I've really been missing the time I lived with my friends Celia and Suzie in house in Lexington--I remember scraping the ice off my car in the morning, driving to and from school, working late at the writing center in the evenings, stopping at the grocery on the way home, walking the dog (Hamlet), having pasta nights with the girls, watching Smallville with the girls, taking in a male stray cat that I mistook for a female one, making coffee in the mornings and salads in the evenings, hearing the clicking of the water pipes in the winter, getting drunk by myself one night while blasting Justin Timberlake and having my first (and last) experiment with nude feminist body painting... (As Jess says, if alcohol makes us more of who we are then I'm a pop-music-loving, nude, feminist body painter! Among other things at least :)
I'm also missing fall and winter. Despite my current residence in a tropical country, I am, at heart, a winter person. ("Winter" by Kentucky and Tennessee standards, at least!) I love the smell of cold, crisp, winter air, and the smell of a warm, heated building. I love rosy cheeks after being out in the cold. I love winter clothes--I miss sweaters, my favorite brown riding boots, my long wool gray coat, scarves, gloves, winter dresses with tights. I love curling up with a cup of tea and being so cozy while I know how cold it is outside, or finding refuge over a latte in a dimly lit coffee shop... And snow! Don't even get me started on snow!
At the same time, though, I'm starting to feel comfortable with the heat here, and imagining a snowy day almost seems unnatural...
But there's no point going on about things I miss. I've said before that I'm happier than ever here, and that fact remains true. If anything, I'm glad to be missing things from my "old life", because I was so critical about that life and being away is making me more appreciative of little things I had and took for granted.
Meanwhile I have so many things to be happy about here. I'm especially happy about starting to celebrate Vietnam's Women's Days tomorrow! Technically the holiday is on Monday but, for some reason, the festivities are going down tomorrow. From what I gather, there's a meeting/presentation/performance at 3pm, followed by some food...but I never really know what's going on here so I'll just have to wait and see. It will increase my excitement if nothing else. :) I have been told, however, to expect lots of flowers from my students--a nice gesture but I hate the thought of them spending money on me when I know they have so little. I'm really looking forward to Women's Day, though. I have extremely fond memories of an International Women's Day when I was in Italy with Sam, so I'm projecting good things on to this women's day as well.
I'm also happy that my internet has been strong enough for some youtube stalking of Sam:
an old one from the Fuji Rock Festival in Japan back in July...so beautiful!
And in weather news, today was overcast and cooler, it's starting to sprinkle more and more, fewer vendors are out on the street at night, and Monsieur Banana keeps telling me "Peut-être it rains ce soir". One can only guess, Monsieur Banana, one can only guess.
Currently listening: "Way To Normal" by Ben Folds
12 October 2008
New Friends and a New 'Do
I never would have guessed that there'd be a steady stream of Norwegian profs at Nha Trang University, but it sure has been a pleasant surprise. Now that Inaki has gone, there's a Norwegian woman named Lene and her 19-year-old daughter Maiken. Katherine and I spent Saturday with our two new friends, and it was such a lovely day--morning and afternoon at the beach, dinner at one of my two favorite vegetarian places in town. Lene and Maiken spent two years in Chapel Hill, speak nearly perfect English, and are tons of fun to hang out with. We're getting dinner with them tomorrow, as well, and I'm really looking forward to spending more time wtih them. At least until they go back to the arctic circle in two weeks! It does feel a bit strange to be making all these new friends that I might not ever see again.
In contrast, today has been a day of local friends. We joined the boys for coffee at 8, a ritual that inevitably turns into English/Vietnamese lessons. For lunch we went to the home of Ms. Lam, one of the English teachers here. She prepared a delicious vegetarian meal for a couple of other teachers, Katherine and me; it's almost that time of the lunar month when everyone goes veg for a day or two, so Katherine and I are eating well! Never in my life have I been so in tune with the lunar cycle, but I like the feeling of incorporating another natural phenomenon into my routine. And luckily my planner has the new and full moons listed. :)
Ms. Lam's house seemed nearly perfect to me. Small--but I like small houses. An open living room, a kitchen (a very nice one by Vietnamese standards), a bathroom, and two bedrooms. Ideal for three people (her, her husband and son). And it was just so open, easy, light, airy, with all the doors and windows open, simple furniture and decor, no clutter, tile floors, high ceilings and light colors... So different from homes in America! But exactly the kind of space I would want someday...I'm finding that my time here is changing my aesthetic preferences. I've always prefered simple, clean, no-clutter spaces and design, but I'm finding myself more drawn to "tropical" colors, whereas in the past I've always been an earth-tone girl. At this point, though, I'd rather paint my walls a pale, tropical blue, yellow or purple than beige. And I quite like this change in myself.
While at lunch, we asked our colleagues (it was all women at the lunch) to recommend a good place to get our hair cut. I haven't cut mine, apart from my own trimming with paper scissors over my bathroom sink, in nearly three months. Coincidentally, the women all used the same salon, a place called Queen, which was actually on our way home. The two teachers who were driving Katherine and me home on their motorbikes (an added bonus to any outing!) pointed out the salon as we drove by, but then stopped and asked if we just wanted to get hair cuts right then. I had planned to take a photo of my preferred hairstyle when I went to my first Vietnamese haircut, and I didn't feel quite prepared for the possible butchering of my locks....but I just went with it. I'm trying to do that more these days. The teachers went in with us to translate what we wanted, and then left us in the hands of the four women working at the salon.
One of the women immediately set to cutting my hair, which took her all of about 10 minutes. I was feeling a bit discouraged by her speedy scissor work, but comforted myself by remembering that a) hair grows back, and b) my three colleagues have nice haircuts from the same woman. When she was finished, she led me back (without letting my check her craftsmanship!) to the hair-washing tables. In the States, they stick you in those chairs, and you bend your head back and hold your neck on the edge of a hard sink. But not here. Oh, no. Here, you lie down on a cushioned table (think masseuse table) and lie your head on a slighty-slanted plastic board that goes down into the sink. Perfectly comfortable.
But what comes next is even better: A looong hair washing with a head and neck massage. And then an equally long face washing and massage. The woman washed my hair three times, and I think conditioned it on top of all that, before starting on my face. I was so happy, lying there, the cold water running over my face, the hot hair like a blanket tucked around me, the buzz of motorbikes and the easy hum of the fan...Another "How is this my life?" moment. This indulgence went on for probably about 40 minutes, and I was so relaxed by the end that I could hardly stand up. I'm such a sucker for a massage :)
Back in front of a mirror I realized that I loved my haircut. I was so happy with it that I decided to take a bit of a risk. I asked the woman to cut a little more hair off the front and give me some little bangs...At first I thought she'd cut too much, but now I'm quite pleased with it. In all, one of my favorite haircuts ever! And at only 35,000 dong ($2.10) for the whole experience--washing and massage included!--there is nothing to complain about whatsoever. I felt bad for a while, while lying there having my hair washed, for paying for such an indulgence. It's definitely not necessary, but even the locals go to have their hair washed often. A Vietnamese friend of mine (the one who took me to get my nails painted) said she and her mother and sister go twice a week even. It's just so cheap. Even with my attempt to live on 100,000 dong a day, I can afford the expenditure and still eat three full meals and treat myself to a smoothie or che or something.
I call this photograph "New 'Do with Mosquito Net"
and I call this one "Self-Portrait with iPhoto" :)
And I can especially afford it on days like today, when I not only was treated to a yummy vegetarian lunch by my Vietnamese colleagues, but I was also treated to an equally delicious vegetarian Bangladeshi meal by my Bengali friends. Kamrul and Habib, two masters students who live upstairs, prepared a veritable feast, sans meat, for Katherine, me, and themselves. Rice, a vegetable stew, a cabbage dish, three dishes of different kinds of greens, grapes, mangoes...I'm so full right now that I probably wont be hungry until dinner tomorrow. I love vietnamese food, but a good, home-cooked Bangladeshi meal was a good break from my routine. The boys are incredible cooks, and it was so generous of them to prepare such a nice meal for us. They put so much time and thought into it. They really outdid themselves!
the spread--complete with table settings and two already-opened bottles of water for me and katherine
Habib eating. We insisted that we all eat together on the floor.
in the end, we were completely unable to eat all the food--despite the boys practically force feeding us more and more and more...(and might I add that I was being force-fed by the guy that recently called me "a little fat now")
Katherine and me so stuffed we can hardly sit up straight
I also learned today that I can take a semester for French classes for less than $10 at the Foreign Language Institute in the city. I'm going to a class on Wednesday night with Miss Trang, another English teacher here, to see how I like it. At this rate, I'm studying a lot more Spanish and French than Vietnamese! The French class would meet Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings, but I'm only going to let myself do it if I also drastically increase the amount of time I spend studying Vietnamese. So we'll see.
I'm looking forward to a fairly busy week with teaching, possibly starting my new French class, studying Vietnamese like a fiend (hopefully!), starting to plan the next English club and stuffing myself with vegetarian food during this wonderful time of the lunar month. And I'm greatly enjoying my new nightly ritual of getting into bed, drinking a "juicebox" of sesame soymilk, reading the news and listening to music. In fact, it's time for that right now...
Currently listening: "The Creek Drank the Cradle" by Iron and Wine
In contrast, today has been a day of local friends. We joined the boys for coffee at 8, a ritual that inevitably turns into English/Vietnamese lessons. For lunch we went to the home of Ms. Lam, one of the English teachers here. She prepared a delicious vegetarian meal for a couple of other teachers, Katherine and me; it's almost that time of the lunar month when everyone goes veg for a day or two, so Katherine and I are eating well! Never in my life have I been so in tune with the lunar cycle, but I like the feeling of incorporating another natural phenomenon into my routine. And luckily my planner has the new and full moons listed. :)
Ms. Lam's house seemed nearly perfect to me. Small--but I like small houses. An open living room, a kitchen (a very nice one by Vietnamese standards), a bathroom, and two bedrooms. Ideal for three people (her, her husband and son). And it was just so open, easy, light, airy, with all the doors and windows open, simple furniture and decor, no clutter, tile floors, high ceilings and light colors... So different from homes in America! But exactly the kind of space I would want someday...I'm finding that my time here is changing my aesthetic preferences. I've always prefered simple, clean, no-clutter spaces and design, but I'm finding myself more drawn to "tropical" colors, whereas in the past I've always been an earth-tone girl. At this point, though, I'd rather paint my walls a pale, tropical blue, yellow or purple than beige. And I quite like this change in myself.
While at lunch, we asked our colleagues (it was all women at the lunch) to recommend a good place to get our hair cut. I haven't cut mine, apart from my own trimming with paper scissors over my bathroom sink, in nearly three months. Coincidentally, the women all used the same salon, a place called Queen, which was actually on our way home. The two teachers who were driving Katherine and me home on their motorbikes (an added bonus to any outing!) pointed out the salon as we drove by, but then stopped and asked if we just wanted to get hair cuts right then. I had planned to take a photo of my preferred hairstyle when I went to my first Vietnamese haircut, and I didn't feel quite prepared for the possible butchering of my locks....but I just went with it. I'm trying to do that more these days. The teachers went in with us to translate what we wanted, and then left us in the hands of the four women working at the salon.
One of the women immediately set to cutting my hair, which took her all of about 10 minutes. I was feeling a bit discouraged by her speedy scissor work, but comforted myself by remembering that a) hair grows back, and b) my three colleagues have nice haircuts from the same woman. When she was finished, she led me back (without letting my check her craftsmanship!) to the hair-washing tables. In the States, they stick you in those chairs, and you bend your head back and hold your neck on the edge of a hard sink. But not here. Oh, no. Here, you lie down on a cushioned table (think masseuse table) and lie your head on a slighty-slanted plastic board that goes down into the sink. Perfectly comfortable.
But what comes next is even better: A looong hair washing with a head and neck massage. And then an equally long face washing and massage. The woman washed my hair three times, and I think conditioned it on top of all that, before starting on my face. I was so happy, lying there, the cold water running over my face, the hot hair like a blanket tucked around me, the buzz of motorbikes and the easy hum of the fan...Another "How is this my life?" moment. This indulgence went on for probably about 40 minutes, and I was so relaxed by the end that I could hardly stand up. I'm such a sucker for a massage :)
Back in front of a mirror I realized that I loved my haircut. I was so happy with it that I decided to take a bit of a risk. I asked the woman to cut a little more hair off the front and give me some little bangs...At first I thought she'd cut too much, but now I'm quite pleased with it. In all, one of my favorite haircuts ever! And at only 35,000 dong ($2.10) for the whole experience--washing and massage included!--there is nothing to complain about whatsoever. I felt bad for a while, while lying there having my hair washed, for paying for such an indulgence. It's definitely not necessary, but even the locals go to have their hair washed often. A Vietnamese friend of mine (the one who took me to get my nails painted) said she and her mother and sister go twice a week even. It's just so cheap. Even with my attempt to live on 100,000 dong a day, I can afford the expenditure and still eat three full meals and treat myself to a smoothie or che or something.
I call this photograph "New 'Do with Mosquito Net"
and I call this one "Self-Portrait with iPhoto" :)And I can especially afford it on days like today, when I not only was treated to a yummy vegetarian lunch by my Vietnamese colleagues, but I was also treated to an equally delicious vegetarian Bangladeshi meal by my Bengali friends. Kamrul and Habib, two masters students who live upstairs, prepared a veritable feast, sans meat, for Katherine, me, and themselves. Rice, a vegetable stew, a cabbage dish, three dishes of different kinds of greens, grapes, mangoes...I'm so full right now that I probably wont be hungry until dinner tomorrow. I love vietnamese food, but a good, home-cooked Bangladeshi meal was a good break from my routine. The boys are incredible cooks, and it was so generous of them to prepare such a nice meal for us. They put so much time and thought into it. They really outdid themselves!
the spread--complete with table settings and two already-opened bottles of water for me and katherineHabib eating. We insisted that we all eat together on the floor.in the end, we were completely unable to eat all the food--despite the boys practically force feeding us more and more and more...(and might I add that I was being force-fed by the guy that recently called me "a little fat now")Katherine and me so stuffed we can hardly sit up straightI also learned today that I can take a semester for French classes for less than $10 at the Foreign Language Institute in the city. I'm going to a class on Wednesday night with Miss Trang, another English teacher here, to see how I like it. At this rate, I'm studying a lot more Spanish and French than Vietnamese! The French class would meet Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings, but I'm only going to let myself do it if I also drastically increase the amount of time I spend studying Vietnamese. So we'll see.
I'm looking forward to a fairly busy week with teaching, possibly starting my new French class, studying Vietnamese like a fiend (hopefully!), starting to plan the next English club and stuffing myself with vegetarian food during this wonderful time of the lunar month. And I'm greatly enjoying my new nightly ritual of getting into bed, drinking a "juicebox" of sesame soymilk, reading the news and listening to music. In fact, it's time for that right now...
Currently listening: "The Creek Drank the Cradle" by Iron and Wine
10 October 2008
The Pilgrimage
A lovely passage from The Pilgrimage, by Paulo Coelho....
This is why I love to travel, or at least why I love the unknown: seeing beauty in everything, making myself accessible, adapting myself, seeking life's generous and mysterious blessings, feeling like a child just out of the womb....maintaining a continued sense of awe and openness... It is harder to do these things in a familiar place. I guess that's the goal, then--to remain mesmerized by life, like a traveler, even through the most mundane and routine of times and places. I'm not yet able to do that, though, and until I am, I'll just have to continue to seek out new places, revel in my constructive wanderlust, pay the "cat price" for curiosity and a nomadic life....
" When you travel, you experience, in a very practical way, the act of rebirth. You confront completely new situations, the day passes more slowly, and on most journeys you don't even understand the language the people speak. So you are like a child just out of the womb. You begin to attach much importance to the things around you because your survival depends on them. You begin to be more accessible to others because they may be able to help you in difficult situations. And you accept any small favor from the gods with great delight, as if it were an episode you would remember for the rest of your life.
At the same time, since all things are new, you see only the beauty in them, and you feel happy to be alive. That's why a religious pilgrimage has always been one of the most objective ways of achieving insight. The word peccadillo, which means "a small sin", comes from pecus, which means "defective foot," a foot that is incapable of walking a road. The way to correct the peccadillo is always to walk forward, adapting oneself to new situations and receiving in turn all of the thousands of blessing that life generously offers to those who seek them."
This is why I love to travel, or at least why I love the unknown: seeing beauty in everything, making myself accessible, adapting myself, seeking life's generous and mysterious blessings, feeling like a child just out of the womb....maintaining a continued sense of awe and openness... It is harder to do these things in a familiar place. I guess that's the goal, then--to remain mesmerized by life, like a traveler, even through the most mundane and routine of times and places. I'm not yet able to do that, though, and until I am, I'll just have to continue to seek out new places, revel in my constructive wanderlust, pay the "cat price" for curiosity and a nomadic life....
08 October 2008
Painfully honest
A Bangladeshi friend who lives in the building just came to see photos of my mother and sister--he's very excited to have new American friends in the form of my family members. I pulled out the small stack of pictures I printed before I left and let him look through him, explaining that some of the photos were a couple of years old. He then compared a recent photo of me to a one from 2 years ago. After careful observation, he announced that I was cuter back then because now I'm a little fat and then I was thinner. Ouch.
The strange part is I think I weigh exactly the same now as, if not less than, I did then. But at least I know I can count on him for an honest opinion.
The strange part is I think I weigh exactly the same now as, if not less than, I did then. But at least I know I can count on him for an honest opinion.
07 October 2008
Girls Night Out and a new scarf
My friend Lien took me and Katherine to have our nails painted tonight at a little shop near school. For 52,000 dong ($3.15), I got a hair wash and head massage, a face wash and massage, a short neck massage, my nails and toe painted with little flowers, and Lien's nails painted (I paid since she offered to take me). I found myself wishing that I'd had had a hard, long day so that I could feel a bit more deserving of such indulgence.
getting my hair washed with a strange mask on my face....
toes and fingers--not exactly my style, but very vietnamese!
While today was busy, it's wasn't hard. Vietnamese lessons at 7, class from 8:40 until 11:15, lunch of che and a salad I made with Katherine. At three I went to fax my ballot request and then went to the central post office to pick up a package from Sam! The first mail I've received in Vietnam. (Apart from a letter that I received last week from the Embassy, inviting me to a reception at the Ambassador's house...that I already attended back in August!) He sent a couple books, some dark chocolate hershey kisses, card games for my students, and a beautiful silk scarf that Fleur got for me in Bali. Even in this tropical climate, I still have a weakness for scarves....
I was also invited to a wedding today! Miss Oanh, an English teacher (who picked me up from the airport, in fact) is getting married on October 29, and I'll be joining her at the reception. So, Sam, since this is the day after you arrive, it looks like one of your first adventures in Vietnam will be a wedding reception at the Yasaka Hotel. I already told her to order you vegetarian food. :)
And for the daily weather update, the storm last night barely left any mud on the ground. Today offered clear, blue skies and a decent breeze. I'm not quite understanding the weather patterns yet, but I hope tomorrow is gorgeous because it's my day off and I can always use more time to nap and read on the beach.
I'm continuing to feel so happy and fortunate....not only for my present situation, but for my past as well. Even with the worst events and moments of it...And I'm feeling hopeful about my future. I have no idea what it will be, how I'll support myself, or how I'll get health insurance, or where I'll live. But I feel like the one trajectory of my life that I can identify is one towards increasing calmness and intrinsic happiness. Moving away from home, going to Spain, and now living in Vietnam...all these events have been pulling me towards better phases of my life and better places within myself. Right now seems to be a time for me to learn how to be happy and calm--as if these are skills that I will develop and carry with me through the rest of my life, even as it gets more hectic. I feel like I'm slowly unearthing all the ways in which this experience is important for me. And I know I will have many more such discoveries to make....
getting my hair washed with a strange mask on my face....toes and fingers--not exactly my style, but very vietnamese!While today was busy, it's wasn't hard. Vietnamese lessons at 7, class from 8:40 until 11:15, lunch of che and a salad I made with Katherine. At three I went to fax my ballot request and then went to the central post office to pick up a package from Sam! The first mail I've received in Vietnam. (Apart from a letter that I received last week from the Embassy, inviting me to a reception at the Ambassador's house...that I already attended back in August!) He sent a couple books, some dark chocolate hershey kisses, card games for my students, and a beautiful silk scarf that Fleur got for me in Bali. Even in this tropical climate, I still have a weakness for scarves....
I was also invited to a wedding today! Miss Oanh, an English teacher (who picked me up from the airport, in fact) is getting married on October 29, and I'll be joining her at the reception. So, Sam, since this is the day after you arrive, it looks like one of your first adventures in Vietnam will be a wedding reception at the Yasaka Hotel. I already told her to order you vegetarian food. :)
And for the daily weather update, the storm last night barely left any mud on the ground. Today offered clear, blue skies and a decent breeze. I'm not quite understanding the weather patterns yet, but I hope tomorrow is gorgeous because it's my day off and I can always use more time to nap and read on the beach.
I'm continuing to feel so happy and fortunate....not only for my present situation, but for my past as well. Even with the worst events and moments of it...And I'm feeling hopeful about my future. I have no idea what it will be, how I'll support myself, or how I'll get health insurance, or where I'll live. But I feel like the one trajectory of my life that I can identify is one towards increasing calmness and intrinsic happiness. Moving away from home, going to Spain, and now living in Vietnam...all these events have been pulling me towards better phases of my life and better places within myself. Right now seems to be a time for me to learn how to be happy and calm--as if these are skills that I will develop and carry with me through the rest of my life, even as it gets more hectic. I feel like I'm slowly unearthing all the ways in which this experience is important for me. And I know I will have many more such discoveries to make....
06 October 2008
For the holidays, you can't be home sweet home
The other Fulbrighters and I have decided where to spend our winter holidays: Christmas in Dalat, and New Years in Ho Chi Minh City. The former should be relaxing. I'm picturing a woodsy cabin with a fire--something like my New Years in the San Juan Islands last year--but I know I'm way off with that image! I am in Vietnam, after all, and while Dalat might have a "cool" climate by local standards, I strongly doubt we'll need to build a fire. If I can't have a cozy winter Christmas, then I'm at least hoping for the singing of lots of Christmas carols and the drinking of lots of Dalat wine and the eating of lots of Dalat strawberries. I'm excited to see what Christmas in Vietnam is like; the other day I asked a fellow teacher and she told me that they all go to the cathedral to "watch the Christians." So, the impression I'm getting is that Christmas in Vietnam is a spectator sport?
Christmas will probably be calm, but New Years in HCMC, I'm guessing, will be pretty crazy. I'm mainly excited to be back with the other Fulbrighters--we're such a great group, and I miss them a lot. There's something about being dropped down together on the exact opposite other side of the globe that makes for some serious bonding! Unfortunately, one Fulbrighter won't be joining us. She went back home due to some personal reasons. I'm sad that she's gone, but I'm happy that she knew what she needed to do to take care of herself. That's the most important thing.
In other news, I started teaching a new class today. It's a pronunciation class for first-year English major students. Two of my classes ended last week so I'm glad to have another course to fill my schedule. In the first meeting of the class today, the other teacher and I both wrote ten key words about ourselves on the board and had students guess how the words related to us and our lives. I wrote these words: vegetarian [I am one], Spanish [studied it at univeristy], 2 months [how long i've been here], American [nationality], International Relations [studied it at uni], 1 year [minimum duration of my stay here], director of high schools [my mother's job], Transylvania University [my uni], Kentucky [where I was born], and Murcia, Spain [where I studied in Spain]. The students guessed the following: That I'm Spanish. That my boyfriend is Spanish. That my husband is the director of high schools. That I am the director of high schools. That I have a one-year-old child. That my mother is a vegetarian. Eventually they came up with most of the correct answers, but the wrong guesses in the meantime where quite amusing!
I'm also excited about my recent increase in female Vietnamese friends--Miss Ha took me to get my bracelet the other day, and Lien, a master's student here, just brought me some fruit from China and tomorrow she's taking me to get my nails painted. Apparently I'll also be having my hair washed? I've never had that service included in a manicure, but she tells me the whole thing will cost about 20,000 dong and I can't complain about that!
And it seems that the rain has started. The foreshadowing of thunder and lightening for the past few evenings was accurate, unless this is just a short storm. But I doubt it. Tonight, on my way home from my and Katherine's Monday night ritual of vegetarian food and bubble tea, I got caught peddling home in a very rainy thunderstorm. I was glad to have bought that poncho with the little green hearts on it! I should have bought some candles, as well--the lights have been flickering and I dont want to be stuck in the dark. In a strange way, though, I'm looking forward to the rainy season. I feel like it could be an important time of reflection and introspection, of calmness and self-discipline and patience. Of course, everything here is feeling important to me. But I think that's because everything is important right now...Already the rain is having a strange effect on me: As I peddled home over the bridge, up hill, in the dark, against the wind, in the rain, with the lightening flashing and thunder growling, I found myself....singing. I was nearly unaware that I was doing it. The song seemed to come out of my mouth of its own volition. There I was, riding along in the middle of a Vietnamese thunder storm singing a Joanna Newsom song about a sprout and a bean. I paused for a moment, shocked at myself--I'm not a singer--but then picked up the melody where I left off and continued peddling. In spite of my past aversion to singing, the whole situation felt rather natural, as if I'd been humming my way through monsoon season my whole life. Maybe this is the new me, the Vietnam me, the Nha Trang me, the monsoon-season me, the me who rides her bike in the rain and sings to herself the whole way home.
Christmas will probably be calm, but New Years in HCMC, I'm guessing, will be pretty crazy. I'm mainly excited to be back with the other Fulbrighters--we're such a great group, and I miss them a lot. There's something about being dropped down together on the exact opposite other side of the globe that makes for some serious bonding! Unfortunately, one Fulbrighter won't be joining us. She went back home due to some personal reasons. I'm sad that she's gone, but I'm happy that she knew what she needed to do to take care of herself. That's the most important thing.
In other news, I started teaching a new class today. It's a pronunciation class for first-year English major students. Two of my classes ended last week so I'm glad to have another course to fill my schedule. In the first meeting of the class today, the other teacher and I both wrote ten key words about ourselves on the board and had students guess how the words related to us and our lives. I wrote these words: vegetarian [I am one], Spanish [studied it at univeristy], 2 months [how long i've been here], American [nationality], International Relations [studied it at uni], 1 year [minimum duration of my stay here], director of high schools [my mother's job], Transylvania University [my uni], Kentucky [where I was born], and Murcia, Spain [where I studied in Spain]. The students guessed the following: That I'm Spanish. That my boyfriend is Spanish. That my husband is the director of high schools. That I am the director of high schools. That I have a one-year-old child. That my mother is a vegetarian. Eventually they came up with most of the correct answers, but the wrong guesses in the meantime where quite amusing!
I'm also excited about my recent increase in female Vietnamese friends--Miss Ha took me to get my bracelet the other day, and Lien, a master's student here, just brought me some fruit from China and tomorrow she's taking me to get my nails painted. Apparently I'll also be having my hair washed? I've never had that service included in a manicure, but she tells me the whole thing will cost about 20,000 dong and I can't complain about that!
And it seems that the rain has started. The foreshadowing of thunder and lightening for the past few evenings was accurate, unless this is just a short storm. But I doubt it. Tonight, on my way home from my and Katherine's Monday night ritual of vegetarian food and bubble tea, I got caught peddling home in a very rainy thunderstorm. I was glad to have bought that poncho with the little green hearts on it! I should have bought some candles, as well--the lights have been flickering and I dont want to be stuck in the dark. In a strange way, though, I'm looking forward to the rainy season. I feel like it could be an important time of reflection and introspection, of calmness and self-discipline and patience. Of course, everything here is feeling important to me. But I think that's because everything is important right now...Already the rain is having a strange effect on me: As I peddled home over the bridge, up hill, in the dark, against the wind, in the rain, with the lightening flashing and thunder growling, I found myself....singing. I was nearly unaware that I was doing it. The song seemed to come out of my mouth of its own volition. There I was, riding along in the middle of a Vietnamese thunder storm singing a Joanna Newsom song about a sprout and a bean. I paused for a moment, shocked at myself--I'm not a singer--but then picked up the melody where I left off and continued peddling. In spite of my past aversion to singing, the whole situation felt rather natural, as if I'd been humming my way through monsoon season my whole life. Maybe this is the new me, the Vietnam me, the Nha Trang me, the monsoon-season me, the me who rides her bike in the rain and sings to herself the whole way home.
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