an open channel

Birthday wish for my little sister on her quince.....

2009-05-09T23:59:00.002+07:00

"By hook or by crook, I hope that you will possess of yourself enough money to travel and to idle, to contemplate the future or the past of the world, to dream over books and loiter at street corners and let the line of thought dip deep into the stream."

-Virgina Woolf, A Room of One's Own

(I just read this book during my last--and third--lovely trip to Hoi An. What an anthem for women! And what a perfect time for me to read this book....)

What I learned from a visiting fisheries economics professor from Taiwan

2009-05-09T21:31:00.003+07:00

The sea refuses no water; vastness thus flows.

Note from grandfather.

2009-05-04T09:29:00.002+07:00

I won't even address the fact that it's been about a billion years since I put anything on this silly blog. I'm keeping records elsewhere. But as my departure draws near I'm feeling inclined to pick this up again. So, to start, here's an email I just received from my dear grandfather, my favorite person in the world despite his rather conservative bent. I emailed him several weeks ago to tell him to tell him when I would return and ask him if he would come visit me. This was his response. I guess his humor is the same as it was when I left!

Hi Mal -

Sorry for taking so long to reply. Get sidetracked easily. We will of course be there to see you. Very anxious.

Do you still look the same? Any VISABLE tattoos? Have you aged much? Are you wiser? No need to answer now. I'll judge for myself.

Lots to catch up on. Still love you.

GD

Yikes.

2009-03-19T08:32:00.001+07:00

I bet the Pope would say that condoms are increasing the problem of teen pregnancy, too.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/03/19/health/19birth.html

New Place

2009-03-11T11:06:00.009+07:00

When I move back to the US I'll also be moving into a new place! Sam just bought a condo in Nashville, and after weeks of transcontinental decorating, here's what he has so far. I think it looks fabulous.

Vintage formica table with original top, 6 chairs with original vinyl, and a leaf for hosting dinner parties :) 75 dollars. What a steal! And the TV is sitting on a vintage coffee table, obtained for a measly 50 dollars. Lovely! I hear the table might eventually be liberated to serve its true purpose, as Sam's dad is rumored to be building a TV cabinet of some sort.

New couch and chair (the latter of which might be relocated to the other side of the couch). Also got a crazy deal on these. Originally he described them over the phone as "teal and terry cloth"--thankfully that seems to be quite an inaccurate description :)

Relaxing after moving all that heavy furniture :)

afternoon light through the big window (corner unit = lots of light!)

new bed! night stands and dresser on the way.

These days I have such terribly mixed feelings about going back (in just over 2 months. yikes). Regardless of how sad I am about leaving--and I'm pretty damn sad--I'm still so excited about this! I've been so impressed with Sam in all of this, his style and his super bargain hunting skills that I didn't even know about! And many thanks to Dan Smith for supplying a truck and muscle power, and to Judi for all of her assistance and input :)

Ok.

2009-02-21T22:28:00.007+07:00

It's been a hard week. I'm ready to go back here.

(And I didn't even photograph the phosphorescent plankton.
I did photograph other things, though. )

Robbery #2

2009-02-13T09:34:00.004+07:00

While I was getting ready for work this morning, there was a knock on my door around 6:45 am. I opened up to find the house manager and another girl in my building who speaks excellent English. She's become the house translator, for the most part. "I have some bad news," she started to explain. The somber look on her face indicated that something serious had happened. My first thought was that someone had died or that Katherine had an accident while out on her morning run (she wasn't home yet). Ironically, then, I was somewhat relieved to hear that my bicycle had been stolen. Along with Katherine's and Bron's (the new Aussie girl who's staying in the building until she finds a house to rent). Not the best way to start my morning.

I ran upstairs to inform Bron, and told Katherine when she got back from her run. Of course, none of us were pleased. Katherine and Bron are on tighter budgets than I am, and replacing a bike is an expensive undertaking. Not that I'm thrilled about dropping another $100 on a new bike. Between this robbery and having my bag snatched in Saigon, I've lost well over $500 dollars in stolen cash and goods, and then replacing what I lost. And I loved my old bike!

When I finally made it to class this morning (I had to wait for the police, which took ages, and was probably all in vain since I know I'll never see that bike again), one of my students reminded me that today is Friday the 13th, and asked me what I thought about the day. I told her than in the past I didn't believe it was unlucky, but now I'm not so sure. All of the computers in the classroom (we were in the high-tech lab) were mysteriously not working, too. My boss, who I was co-teaching with, agreed that all of our misfortune could be contributed to this unlucky day.

My boss also informed me that clearly 2009 is an unlucky year for me. They're really into luck here. Despite my initial skepticism, I'm starting to wonder about it. Just hours into the new year I was robbed, losing a hell of a lot of cash, my phone, camera, and lots of sentimental things. And now, just over a month later, I lose my precious green bicycle.

On top of all this, I'm staring unemployment in the face. And cant seem to find my calling in life, other than opening up a bungalow-bar on the beach. Of course this is a much bigger problem than the loss of my bicycle, but one bit of bad luck seems to remind you of all the other obstacles you face...

Bye, bye bicycle! I hope your new owner loves you as much as I did.

FURTHERMORE, this is the second robbery in the building in the past week. A few days ago, some guys climbed up a tree in front of the building, hopped onto one of the balconies, and stole two laptops from a room. Apparently the two girls that lived in the room were there at the time--it was in the middle of the night, I think--and I heard that the guys had a knife or something. That part might not be true, though. I also heard recently that my father works at the US Embassy here, a laughable proposition since I dont actively have a father, and he'd never be able to work at the Embassy anyway. Knife or no knife, though, I'm beginning to doubt the security of the building. If I'm going to get locked out of my own building at 11pm, it might as well be for a damn good reason. Clearly, locking the front door isn't preventing theft (the bike theives came in through a window and climbed over a door), and I'm afraid to leave any valuables in my room when I go out.

I keep telling myself that a little bad luck can be good luck. Now I just have to wait for the bad luck to run out and the good luck to kick in. Vomit.

Books and Movies and a big "Oops"

2009-02-12T12:50:00.004+07:00

Over my 2 month break, I found the time to indulge in some literature and film. Unfortunately not a whole lot of either, but enough to satiate me for the time being.

A billion years ago, back in Hanoi, I discovered a fantastic English-language bookshop called Bookworm. Offering new and used books, guidebooks, history and culture books, and even some movies, all under the ownership of a friendly young Vietnamese man, the shop is truly a gem. I spent hours there, despite the relatively small size of the shop. I quickly skipped over the western fictions, John Grisham and the like, and eventually settled into a corner of the store that housed books about Vietnam and novels by contemporary Vietnamese authors. It was such a jackpot, as I had already finished a couple of the books I brought with me. Finally I settled on a stack of books that included THE GIRL IN THE PICTURE, THE SORROW OF WAR, DUMB LUCK (a novel), and BEYOND ILLUSIONS, another novel. All of the books were photocopied, but the pricetag on each explained the breakdown of the cost and how much of the profit would go directly to the author or the cost of photocopying. As legit as it could be for not being legit at all. Having read THE GIRL IN THE PICTURE, which was enlightening to say the least, and DUMB LUCK, and fabulous and hilarious novel about 1950s Vietnam, I recently picked up BEYOND ILLUSIONS. I was drawn to this book because of its female author and the fact that, on the back cover, it explained how the book was banned in Vietnam. And there I was, buying it in Hanoi.

A book about corruption, expectations, love, lust, morals and independence, BEYOND ILLUSIONS quickly revealed not only why it is banned in Vietnam, but also the courageousness of its author, Duong Thu Huong. The female protagonist in the story, Linh, faces losing everything or, in her opinion, standing for nothing. Her nuanced character, human and flawed, leads a page-turning story with an ultimately unsuspected but satisfying ending. A remarkably written novel with an excellent translation to boot. And now my copy has Cambodia sand in its seams, which I just love.

I must thank Samuel for his unintended donation of two copies of LIFE OF PI to my library. Realizing at LAX airport that he left his copy in Nashville, he picked up another to read on the plane and while traveling here in Vietnam and Cambodia. Then, in Cambodia, he realized he left his new copy in Vietnam, and thus purchased a bootleg copy from a street vendor. Finally, meaning to leave one copy with me when he went back to America, he accidentally left both copies. At least I have one to trade at a book exchange now.

I've been hearing about this book for years and I was anxious to know what all the buzz was about. Sam seemed to have some trouble getting into it, and Katherine said the same was true for her when she tried to read the book. Not so for me. I picked it up one night before bed and read over half the book in that first sitting. I finished it the next night. In a literally fantastic tale, spirituality and survival become intertwined in a most bizarre of circumstances, hinted at by the image on the cover. I'm not a religious person, and the story didn't make me believe in God (as the tagline suggests), but the protagonist's earnest endeavor "just to love God", in all of "his" (urgh--there's one reason I'm not religious!) manifestations reminds us that maybe all this religious conflict in the world isn't inevitable. I can see this one becoming a modern and enduring classic.

One of my favorite movies in years, I've already watched my bootleg copy of VICKY CRISTINA BARCELONA twice. I was predisposed to love it: Javier Bardem, Penelope Cruz, Scarlett Johansson, Barcelona, and Woody Allen (although I'm a little disgusted at him, having recently learned about his affair with and later marriage to his more-or-less adopted step-daughter of Mia Farrow, who he was involved with when the affair begain). Missing this movie was one thing I was super bummed about when I left the States for Vietnam. I was so looking forward to seeing and thought I'd have to wait until next summer. Not true, thanks to Vietnam's blatant lack of copyrights and intellectual property rights! For 12,000 dong, or 70 cents, a properly functioning copy of Allen's new flick was happily spinning around in my computer for my viewing pleasure. I mean, do I want my money going to his semi-incestuous ass? (In a day or two I'll be more capable of separating the man from his art. Just give me time.)

Title characters Vicky and Cristina are best friends who find themselves in Barcelona for the summer. The former is practical and rooted and engaged to be married, the latter is free-spirited and passionate and sexually explorative. The summer presents unexpected romantic situations for both women, who ultimately must (attempt to) decide what they're really looking for in life and in love. Coming from the brain of Woody Allen, the movie is of course quirky and subtly funny, but I nevertheless found much to identify with in both of the characters, especially Cristina, and the events of their summer. You know, minus the threesome with a Spanish painter and his homicidal/suicidal ex-wife.

At a coffee shop in Saigon, I was fortunate enough to see Sean Penn play Harvey Milk, the first openly gay man to be elected to public office in California. Much more "out" than the controversial but sexually repressed BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN, MILK is probably avoided by those with homophobic inclinations. This, in my opinon, is a great tragedy, as this movie is, at its heart, about a fight for equality and civil rights. Cheers to Gus Van Sant for illuminating the story, continuing Harvey Milk's fight and making one of my favorite movies of the year.

I also caught, either in Saigon or on dvd, CHE, DOUBT, W, and DAN IN REAL LIFE. CHE--I only got to see the first half, unfortunately--blew my mind and increased my lust for Benicio del Toro. DOUBT was really good, W was disappointing (though not as mucha s the man himself), and DAN IN REAL LIFE was a light, refreshing romantic comedy. All worth seeing, but some more than others.

Also on the subject of film, next week is the first of what I hope will be many movie nights for students, starting with the third year English majors. I'm glad to have this project off the ground.

In totally unrelated news, I made a serious fuck up today. My class for this afternoon was moved to the morning, which I was told in passing on Monday morning while I was in the middle of chaotic meeting of which I unexpectedly found myself in charge. I jotted down the change in a notebook without thinking about it, and the news just went in one ear and out the other. I was all ready to go to class this afternoon until my co-teacher called and asked if I'd forgotten about class today. "No," I told her. "I'm still coming this afternoon." Even when she explained that she'd told me on Monday about the rescheduling, I still didn't remember. I was so busy when she told me on Monday that it didn't even register. The worst of it was that I was responsible for bringing the pre-test for the students. I'm mortified by my irresponsiblity and lack of professionalism, even though the teacher was perfectly friendly about it and even apologized for not reminding me. This is my most serious infraction since I've been working here, and although there will be no formal reprecussion, I feel terrible. It's absolutely unacceptable. Yikes. I'm definitely more motivated to be especially on-the-ball after this mess up.

Loved Ones

2009-02-11T12:02:00.005+07:00

My precious little sister was passing through Nashville to watch a friend's older brother play hockey. Sam stopped by to see her and to take her some bubble tea (I've gotten her hooked too!). They sent me this photo.

Two of my very favorite people in the entire world. When Sam told me was going to get to see her, I unexpectedly broke down crying. I miss her so much. And from her emails and messages, I can tell that she is growing up and maturing a lot. It's sad for me to be missing her grow up, but I hope in some way I'm at least setting a good example by venturing out into the world. In any case, I'm really looking forward to having her come stay with Sam and me this summer.

Update Part One: Christmas and New Year

2009-02-07T23:24:00.003+07:00

I'm finally back after two months travel, during which time I clearly abandoned my blog. Yikes. In the past two months I've been to Danang, Hoi An, Dong Hoi, Nha Trang, Ho Chi Minh City, Phnom Penh, Siem Reap, and Sihanoukville (the latter three in Cambodia). Eight cities and two countries might not sound like a lot in two months, but I prefer slow travel. And I did some backtracking. And I took two short breaks at home in Nha Trang. But, now that I'm back in Nha Trang for good, I should get back to regularly updating this thing. So, without further ado, here's the first installment of an update of my past month and half.

Christmas in Da Lat
Key Words: Da Lat wine, Christmas miracles, and Ms Dung

Most of the other Fulbrighters and I met in Dalat to celebrate. We stayed at Dreams Hotel, which continues to hold the title of my favorite hotel in Vietnam (and now Cambodia). At $20 dollars a night for a double room and breakfast, the price is higher than average, but definitely worth the indulgence. The two locations of the hotel, located on the same street, are owned by the lovely and sweet Ms. Dung, who treats all of her guests like family. Breakfast is even served family-style in the kitchen. And breakfast is something you do not want to miss--eggs to order, fresh baguettes, butter, cheese, peanut butter, Da Lat strawberry jam, vegemite and marmite (yuck), piles and piles of fresh fruit, delicious coffee and homemade passionfruit juice, plus cold cuts for the carnivorously inclined. It's a true feast! On top of this, the rooms are lovely, the beds are comfortable, there's a sauna and steam room, and the showers are divine, with a million jet settings and even jets that come out of the wall. The second location of hotel has...wait for it...jacuzzi tubs.

We opted for the first location, though, so that we could stay at the hotel that Ms Dung herself staffs. She's one of the hotel's best features. On Christmas Eve, she held a big party for all of the guests, offering heaps of food and numerous bottles of wine. Perhaps out of a little homesickness, I offered to help prepare for the party; I wanted to feel like party of the family, getting everything ready for a big Christmas dinner. I ended up rolling a gillion spring rolls (that included pork. yuck!) down in the kitchen while Ms Dung's family and staff prepared the kebabs that would be grilled later. I didn't understand nearly any of the conversation but it felt so comforting to be in a kitchen, helping to prepare a meal.

The party was a huge success, and Ms Dung even ordered in special vegetarian food for me and the two other vegetarians in our group. By the end of the evening, my friends and I were all stuffed and significantly buzzed/slightly drunk. Attendant pictures are up on Picasa . We all retired to one of our hotel rooms, piled onto the beds, and played "Never Have I Ever." It was the most enlightening and bizarre Christmas Eve of my life. Definitely a far cry from my usual gnocchi-and-movie tradition with my mother!

On Christmas morning we all lingered at breakfast for a couple hours before going out into the city. Feeling like I needed some time to myself, I branched off from the group, found some taro bubble tea and wandered around alone for a couple hours. Maybe I needed a little reflection. To be honest, the week before Christmas was harder for me than any time since I've been here. I missed my family and friends, I missed Sam, I missed the cold weather and Christmas music and fires in the fire place and lights on houses. I missed all the little Christmas traditions that I had taken for granted. I'm not as rootless as I thought.

We all went out for a really nice Christmas dinner at Cafe de la Poste, a French restaurant associated with a five-star hotel in the city. A bit of a splurge, it was one of the best meals I've had here. And it was Christmas, so the splurge was excused.

My first Christmas away from home was thus as home-y as it could have been, with my friends and the gestures of Ms Dung at Dreams hotel. I was glad to have the holiday behind me, though, and get on with the festivities for New Year.

New Year/The Craziness That Went Down in HCMC
Key words: Beverages, balcony, dancing, beverages, robbery, dancing, Estonians, up-til-dawn, dancing

My time in HCMC was absolute madness in so many ways. After separating for a few days, most of the group met up again in HCMC for New Year. We started the party a little early, though. December 30th was Jahmila's birthday, which involved sushi, an Irish Pub, Go2 Bar, and further festivities on the balcony of our hotel. We met some Estonian guys who were staying across the hall from us, a new friendship that would turn out be be central to our New Year's experience in the big city.

Depsite our long night on Jahmila's birthday (some of us, myself included, were still up when the sun rose--this would be a common occurrence), we hit it hard again on New Year's Eve, of course. Our group and the Estonians gathered on the balcony, shared lots of toasts, and a little after 11 we transferred the party to a nearby park where there was a huge concert and celebration. Completely oblivious to the events on the stage, my new and old friends and I danced like crazy. Alone, with each other, with both the willing and reluctant Vietnamese spectators who were now watching us more than the concert. Danced danced danced. Karl, one of our new friends, spun me around like a pro while a circle of onlookers circled around us. Tom, another new friend, danced in a puddle. Apparently there was a video of this on my camera but...well....more on the camera later.

At midnight, Tom and Tom (there were two Estonians by the same name) opened bottles of champagne and sprayed them everywhere while I danced around the impromptu fountain and made sure to kiss all my new and old friends firmly on the lips. I get kissy after a couple drinks.

Getting us all to a club after the party on the park turned out to be nearly as difficult as creating peace in the Middle East. As soon as half of us would gather, the other half would disappear into the crowd again. Among other things, Jahmila realized she'd lost an earring and seemed willing to give her life to find it again. It took some harsh talking to to get her abandon the earring, as the girl gets, well, let's say determined when she drinks. Two taxis, a xe om, and probably an hour later, we all somehow managed to get to the club where, once again, I danced danced danced danced.

Walking home, though, I experienced a quite unfortunate event. I was robbed. A guy on a motorbike whizzed by and ripped my purse off my arm. Karl, my new dancing partner who was walking me home, tried to run after the guy but it was pointless. The thief was on a motorbike! At first, maybe from the shock, I adopted a rather Zen attitude about incident, yelling to Karl while he ran after the thief that it didn't matter, the bag was gone and there was nothing to do about it. My acceptance of the event yielded almost immediately, though, to a deep sense of loss. Perhaps this was once I realized exactly what I'd just lost: over $250 dollars in cash, my debit card, my camera (and all of the faaaabulous pictures from New Year's and Jahmila's birthday), my phone, the little ice cream cone cell phone charm that my sister gave me, my favorite wallet that I bought at the dollar store, all of the sentimental mementos I kept in my wallet, and the purse itself, which was new (but only $5). I thus sat down on the sidewalk and cried like a baby, while Karl put his arm around me and tried to shoo away the crowd of Vietnamese people who had gathered around to stare. (To be fair, some of them donated some napkins for me to blow my nose.)

Luckily I had stuffed a 50,000 dong note in my bra in case of an emergency (not to add to my cleavage). Some part of me seemed to know that I was going to be robbed. After he somehow managed to stop my crying, Karl hailed a cab and we returned to the hotel. I tried to pay for the cab with the last 50,000 dong to my name, but Karl, gentleman that he is, insisted on paying for the cab. He even let me use his mobile phone to call Sam in America, to ask him to cancel my bank cards. These kind gestures were in addition to the fact that his sandals broke while running after the thief. Yikes. Now shoe-less Karl wasn't the only great friend around. Becca loaned me 3 million dong so that I could, you know, eat. And get back to Nha Trang where I had a credit card that I could draw money on.

I stayed a few more days in HCMC and indulged in a few more nights out, including another night out at the whore-iffic Apocalypse Now Club (where we went for New Years). Becca, Jahmila and I had our own private dance party in the middle of the club, apparently. David said at one point he looked at us from across the room and we were just in the middle of the dance floor, our hands all up in the air dancing together with the biggest smiles on our faces. The Estonians left the following morning, and I woke (at 1 pm) to find flowers from Karl, who hoped to revive my spirits after the robbery. Mission accomplished.

I myself left soon, as well. After all the craziness, alcohol, poor eating and very little sleep, (not to mention loss of money), I needed a brief respite in Nha Trang before Sam would arrive in less than a week....

Coming Soon
Update Part Two: Sam's Visit and the Kingdom of Wonder

Dong Hoi

2008-12-19T11:59:00.004+07:00

I'm writing from a comfy chair, in my room at a four-star beach resort, overlooking the sea, on an island off the coast of Dong Hoi. And, through a strange twist of events, I'm staying here for free. Jahmila and I are in Dong Hoi, visiting Becca and helping her pack all of her stuff since she's being relocated to Hue University. Last night we went to a small, basic hotel in the city, since Becca's room is too small for the three of us, and is furthermore so mold invested that I'm actually a little sick now. After dropping off our stuff at the hotel, we went to a little cafe down the street. There, we met "Alex" (aka Hoang Anh), a young man who studied in the US and whose family owns the Sun Spa Resort. He invited us for a complimentary stay at the resort, and after some hesitation, we accepted the offer. We piled into his BMW, picked up our stuff from the other hotel, and drove across the bridge to the island and its Sun Spa Resort. We have two great rooms that overlook the sea, yummy breakfast, access to the gym and suana.... How is this my life?

This resort is the first of its kind in Dong Hoi, a quaint coastal town that, for the most part, remains in its natural state. In other words, it has yet to become an overexploited, unsustainable tourist destination. The beach is pristine, unscarred my tacky hotels and water sport kiosks. In ten years, though, this place will be another Nha Trang, for better or worse.

Becca, however, has had quite a challenging time at her uni here, and Fulbright is thus relocating her. She's spending the weekend packing, tying up loose ends, spending time with students. Yesterday some of her students took the three of us to the Outdoor War Museum, which is run by the aunt and uncle of one of her students. The musuem is several kilometers outside of the city, and is actually a well-preserved system of undergound houses, schools, tunnels, and even a "hospital" and nursery that were used by the Vietnamese during the war. The land is pocked with bomb craters, some evolved into ponds, others morphed into small valleys, overgrown with shrubs and wildflowers. While the grounds are well-kept by the aunt and uncle of the student, nothing is marked in Vietnamese or English, so having the students with us to explain everything made the experience especially memorable. Other students have cooked meals for us, taken us to the beach....They've all been so hospitable, which isn't surprising.

I'll be in Dong Hoi for another day or so. We might go to Phong Nha Caves, near Dong Hoi tomorrow. When I leave Dong Hoi, the first stop will be the DMZ in Dong Ha. We're having a good time in Dong Hoi, though, especially now that we're vegging at this luxuuuurious hotel. I'm anxious to travel more, but a little relaxation can't hurt....

Hue

2008-12-15T17:54:00.003+07:00

I'm currently in Hue, Vietnam, the city that was most destroyed during the Tet Offensive. Apart from that trivia, this town also houses the ancient capital city, which I visited today. It was eerie. The citadel, the old city, and the "forbidden city" (the ancient imperial city) were heavily destroyed during the war and Tet Offensive. Although it was named a World Heritage Site fifteen years ago, the ancient city is still largely in ruins. Some of the buildings have been well restored, but other remain mere heaps of crumbled stone and rotting wood, overtaken by foliage. And on a misty, overcast day like today, when no one seemed to be around, wandering around the old imperial capital felt like discovering an ancient civilization for the first time, or wandering into a Asian "secret garden". I kept getting lost, and I even got a bit scared at times, walking alone in ancient temples or wandering among the bombed out remains of once royal edifices. Occasionally I'd catch a glimpse of another human being, maybe a lone tourist or a guard or repair man, but for the most part it was just me in the labrynth of the citadel. I saw most of the landmark, but after a few hours I had to get out of there. Just too eerie. And it had started raining.

With my poncho draped over me, I wandered down to the market, haggled for some mandarin oranges, which are my new favorite food. Not the canned kind, of course. The real, fresh kind. Mmmh! And today I got them down to 15,000 vnd/kilo. That's about 80 cents for 2 lbs. I'm finally getting better about this bargaining business.

I also found a great little restaurant, where I had the best roll-you-own spring rolls I've had in Vietnam. And they were only 15,000. At the restaurant I met a British man who's traveling in Asia. He has two daughters about my age and, as it turned out, is actually staying in my hotel. It was nice to have some conversation. The best and worst part of traveling alone is the silence that it often entails.

Tonight I'm having dinner with Toni, an American woman I met at the Fulbright Seminars who's working at Hue University as an English Language Fellow. She's taking me to a veg place she knows. Tomorrow I'm hoping to hire a motorbike and driver to take me to some of the imperial tombs around the city.

Hue is lovely but it's hard to beat Hoi An, which has become my favorite city in Vietnam. If I stay another year, I'd really like to live there, but there seem to be even fewer work opportunities there than in Nha Trang. I'm actually thinking about going back to Hoi An in a couple days, since plans to visit Becca in Dong Hoi might be canceled due to some probs with her uni.

Becoming a tourist in this country is a bit of adjustment for me, as I've started to consider myself a resident of Nha Trang. People's attitudes change, though, as soon as they learn that I live in Nha Trang and work there. They stop heckling me, they smile more, they lower the price.

Being a tourist does have its funny moments, though. Like this one from Hoi An. Becca, Jahmila, Keith and I shared one room with two big beds. Keith and I shared. One night, I woke up to find him propped up on one elbow, staring at me. I took out my earplugs--it was a noisy hotel--and had the following exchange:

Me: Are you trying to say something to me?
Keith: No, but I think the ghost of christmas past is outside.

I heard chains rattling indeed, and laughed at Keith's nocturnal wit before passing out again. At least that's how I remember it. Apparently, though, I woke Keith up because I was making a lot of noise. I think I was having a nightmare. Oops! The next morning, though, "the ghost of christmas past" comment seemed even funnier, especially when I realized my memory of the night's events were a bit skewed. I apologized for waking him, but assured him it could have been worse. It could have been one of those nightmares from which I wake up screaming and in tears. After hearing that, I'm surprised he didn't ask for his own room.

I'm still trying to think of a way to set up camp in Hoi An for a while. If anyone would like to finance the opening of a bar or restaurant or hostel, please contact me . :)

Hoi An

2008-12-14T06:43:00.002+07:00

After a few days in Danang with the Fulbright gang, I came to Hoi An with Keith, Becca and Jahmila. I've been here for two and a half days, and I'm feeling like I could stay forever. This town is magical, with clear Chinese, Japanese and French influences. A river runs through the city, and old men and women in conical hats attempt to hawk boat rides to passing tourists. At night, the water is dotted with the glow of romantic street lights. The "Old Town" area is mainly pedestrian, offering a welcomed break from motorcycles and their attendant honking. Somehow, Hoi An has struck a balance between preservation and tourism, the latter of which has no doubt funded some of the preservation. The town is a UN World Heritage Site. Old villas along the river house patisseries, restaurants, quaint bars and modern ones. The outlying beach has yet to be overcome with resorts. But they're on their way. In a few years, this city will most likely be another sprawling tourist metropolis. I guess that means I should move here before that happens? :)

Our three days here have been some of my best in this country. Wandering around the Old Town, eating delicious food (western and vietnamese), and yesterday renting bikes and riding a few miles out the beach, exploring the countryside, hopping over to an island off the coast....

I think I can get here from Nha Trang on an overnight bus for just a few dollars, so I'm already planning my next visit.

In the mean time, I'm heading back to Danang with everyone. Keith is catching a flight to HCMC, Jahmila lives in Danang, and Becca and I will take a train northbound. I'll hop off at Hue, and she'll go home to Dong Hoi, where I'll meet her in a few days.

So far my trip has been better than expected, and judging by the rest of of my time here, I bet that trend will continue.

Another update from the next city.

Currently listening: the sounds of Hoi An at 6am.

Furama Resort, Danang

2008-12-09T21:34:00.003+07:00

I'm currently sitting at a candle-lit table in a cozy cafe at the five-star Furama resort, beside a lovely christmas tree, listening to a jazz piano player and sipping a decaf cappuccino. How is this my life?

The sea is treacherous but beautiful here. The weather is nearly cold. The hotel is incredible, and tactfully decorated for the holidays. So cozy! And all the Christmas trimmings are making me so happy.....Seeing the Fulbrighters has been so much fun. The conference is going spendidly as well.

I'll be here at the hotel for two more nights, and then I'm not sure what my plan is...and I like it that way.

More soon....

Leaving

2008-12-07T21:11:00.007+07:00

I've finished grading all the students' tests, I've cleaned my room, packed my bag, checked and rechecked my to-do list. In the morning my taxi will arrive at 5:45 am to drive me to the airport, and I won't be back to Nha Trang until the end of December at the earliest. Leaving this place, even for a few weeks, feels strange.

I'm prepared, though, in part because I'm a chronic overpacker. I dont pack obviously extraneous stuff, but I just like to be overly prepared. And it often comes in handy. I overpacked for my and Sam's tirp to Da Lat, which turned out to be a good thing as ended up taking a 3 day trek through the mountains.

I've also stocked up on some new music, from a place called "Groove Shack" in the tourist area. You can buy digital versions of albums for 20,000 dong, a little over 1 dollar, and they'll put the music on your iPod or flash drive. I opted for the former, so that I could the actual files on my computer. Here's what I bought:

Thomas Dybdal, "One Day You'll Dance for Me New York City"
The Ting Tings, "We Started Nothing:
The Radio Dept, "Pet Grief"
Stars, "In Our Bedroom After the War"
Sigur Ros, "Agaetis Byrjun"
Portishead, "Third"
Patsy Cline, "20 Golden Hits"
Chet Baker, "Let's Get Lost--The Best Of" (which, due to a misprint in the shop's listings, I didn't realize I already had. Huge bummer.)
Chet Baker, "A Jazz Hour with Chet Baker"
Ane Brun, "A Temporary Dive"

I'm disappointed about only ending up with one new Chet Baker album--he's almost all I'm listening to these days. Oh well. I'll have to drop another 20 Grand for a replacement...And I was happy to see that they had the full catalog of Ben Folds, including this last album that came out a few months ago.

Today I also...got my hair cut again! I wasn't totally satisfied with the last cut--it was awkwardly long in the back. They have this thing against cutting off too my length here. So I texted Lien today to see if she wanted to go to the nail shop with me, which turned into me and Katherine going over to her house for lunch with family and then going to the nailshop. I was a bit stressed about time--I had a lot to do today--but it ended up being fabulous. Both the company and the food.

Finally at the nail shop, I enjoyed a relaxing hair wash/massage before getting my haircut. The girl that cut my hair last time wasn't there. Instead, a young man (I've never seen a guy working there before) had overtaken her role. Lien informed me that he was a "famous" hair dresser in Nha Trang, which was a comforting fact. At least before I noticed his terrible mullet and too-short bangs. It was worse than Spanish mullets. "He might be a great hair dresser, but he's clearly not doing his own hair," I thought.

He started cutting my hair, finished, and proceeded to dry it....straight. In a fifty-year-old-woman stye. It looked awful. And it was still too long in the back. I hated to have him do it again, but I did. In fact, it took about 4 tries to get it close to being right. He seemed good-natured about it. In any case, now I have certifiably short hair. I'm missing my long hair--apparently I look older with short hair. In fact, someone thought I was 28 the other day. A fine number in itself, but I dont want to already look six years older than I am! But I'll enjoy the short hair while it lasts....

I also got little snowflakes painted on my toes. 'Tis the season!!!

I'm feeling more sore today from the accident last night but still just relieved that no one was seriously hurt....Unfortunately, though, my student (who was with me) had another accident on her way home. She was hit by a drunk driver. She's more or less fine but pretty banged up. I feel terrible for causing one of her two accidents in one evening. Again, though, just happy everyone is alive.

Alright, I have to be up in less than five hours. Yikes. The off to Danang, then who knows what until Christmas in Dalat! And I'm sooo excited to see all the Fulbrighters!!!!!!!!!!! Blogs will be few and far between I'm afraid but I'll try to at least update about my whereabouts.

Just for fun, a pic from last night, before the accident and second haircut, but after I bought my crazy new Che Guevara shirt!

Currently listening: "In Our Bedroom After the War," by Stars.

End of Semester and other activities

2008-12-06T17:49:00.003+07:00

Let me say first that I just noticed a little lizard on my mosquito net. I tried to catch him with a cup--I'm running my own lizard relocation program over here--but I just scared him into my bed and now I can't find him. Hopefully he'll relocate himself from my bed, but either way, the little guy is probably doomed: Every lizard that has come into my room (at least that I know about) I've later found dead. One in my doorway, one in my bathroom, I even found one in my fridge once (frozen to death), and all the way in Da Lat there was another dead lizard in my hotel room. Maybe lizards are to this journey what ants were to my time in Europe.

Not that I don't have my fair share of ants, too. I've been finding a surprising number of ants on my computer lately. I'm starting to wonder if they're living inside of it.

Soon, though, I wont care about ants and lizards in my room, as I'm leaving at 5:45 Monday morning for Conference in Danang, followed by several weeks of travel. I'll go up to Dong Hoi with Becca for a few days, then we'll work our way back down to Da Lat for christmas with the group. We had plans to all meet in HCMC for New Year, but I just got an email from my boss informing me that oral examinations will be held from 31 December to 4 January. Blah. I didn't even know about these oral exams. I told her I had made plans to travel and already had a hotel room (which is true)--since I was told when I arrived in Nha Trang that I would be free during that time--but I have a feeling I'll just have to come back for the exams. It's my job. And even though my boss excused me from the responsibility since I'd already made travel plans, I'm not sure I can really justify skirting this responsibility. It's why I'm here, after all. And I want to be useful here. I'm just a little disappointed that I wont be able to spend New Year with friends. New Year is a big holiday for me and Sam, and it would be easier to be away if I were celebrating in HCM with the Fulbright gang.

Even though exams aren't for several more weeks, my last class of the semester was yesterday. Classes here don't all run on the same schedule, which takes a bit of getting used to. In any case, the term FLEW by!

The week has been pretty busy, though. Last classes, giving exams, marking exams, preparing a report and presentation for conference, getting ready to leave for a month or so (or less if I come back for exams). Aaaand...I learned to drive a MOTORBIKE! One of my students took me on Thursday to talk to the private English schools here, and then to show me how fish sauce is made (let me tell you--very smelly process). As we were driving she asked if I wanted to learn to drive. I said yes, of course, expecting that after I came back from traveling she'd take me to an empty parking lot one day and walk alongside the motorbike as I wobbled along. You know, something between learning to ride a bike and learning to drive a car. Oh, no no. As usual, my expectations were wrong. She stopped right on the street, got off the bike, explained the gas, the breaks, how to shift gears (it wasn't automatic)...and then she hopped back on the bike, behind me. And off we went! I was shocked by how easy it is to drive a motorbike. It really feels just like riding a bicycle. I drove the rest of the way out to the port and to the fish sauce "factory"-- a shed behind someone's home--and then all the way home. I wish I'd learned sooner how to drive a bike. And in a surprising turn of events, one of the english teachers that I'm closest to has offered to let me use her husband's motorbike while he's doing his post-doc in France for the next year. It looks like I'll have a moto to use when I want to!

Of course, I'll still keep my trusty bicycle. It's perfect for nights like Thursday, when the weather is gorgeous and I've had too much to drink. Katherine and I befriended the American who owns the Texas restaurant in the city (he's actually from Buffalo and lived in CA, not TX). On Thursday I stopped in to Texas to say hello (Katherine was sick), and Charles opened up a bottle of wine, which we finished with ease. We then migrated down the street to the Sailing Club, a bar/beach joint, where I had a few (weak) vodka tonics and enjoyed the music and watched tourists dance. Suddenly it was 2am and I decided to go home. But the weather was sooo nice....so I biked around the city a bit before heading back towards the university. At one point I passed this backpacker bar and heard one of my favorite albums, Oracular Spectacular by MGMT, blasting. I immediately turned my bike around with the intention to go into this bar. Luckily I realized that walking alone into a bar at 2am just screams "Take me home with you!", and decided that I could just listen to the album at home. Plus, it had started raining.

As I started to make my way home, a guy on a motorbike pulled up beside my bike. I think he was a xe om driver, but clearly I didn't need a ride--I was on my own bike! We started chatting, though; I was shaking his hand while we were both driving along (the joys of Vietnam's traffic!). He was super friendly, 25 years old, and seemed well-intentioned. Suddenly, though, I felt my body accelerate, compelled forward at an unnatural speed. "Am I drunk enough to be imagining this?" I thought at first. No, no, I hadn't had that much to drink. I maintained the sudden increase in velocity for a few moments before I realized the source of the magic. My new friend had put his foot on my bike rack and was pushing me home! There I was, a little drunk, biking home in the rain (sounds familiar), in the middle of the night, being pushed along by a mysterious and benevolent xe om driver. I was overjoyed, having really one of the most incredible and unexpected experiences of my life. The warm night air, the light rain, the crash of waves, the speed....I wanted to throw my arms out and yell "I'm king of the world!", but alas I had to hold on to the handle bars. So I just laughed the whole way home, instead. No, I squealed the whole way home, as the xe om driver alternatively gave me a boost and then let me pedal. He escorted me all the way back to the donkey path, where he bid me goodnight and drove off into the darkness. The next morning I half wondered if he was an angel or something--I dont even believe in angels, but he came out of no where, disappeared back into nowhere, and gave me one of the most thrilling experiences I've had in the country.

Back at my building though, found myself locked out. Damn the 11pm curfew. I still hold that they should just give everyone a key to the building. Wouldn't that make more sense? And then I wouldn't have to wake up someone to let me in. This time it wasn't the house manager, but some other unfortunate soul who heard me rattling the door and graciously pulled himself out of bed.

------
I wrote the previous information this evening before my students took me out to karaoke, to celebrate the end of the semester and to say goodbye to me (for a few weeks at least). I drove Chau's motorbike to pick up some food, and then on to the karaoke place. I even....gulp...I even SANG! Katherine and I suffered through a few songs together--YMCA, Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, something else I cant remember. And then I drove Carrot's bike home, with her on the back of course.....And I wrecked it. I had my first motorbike accident. It really was just a tiny little accident, but I kind of hit a garbage man, and the bike fell over with me under it (and kind of in a pile of trash)....poor Carrot and the garbage man lifted it off me. Luckily everyone is 100% fine. The garbage man is fine, Carrot is fine, I'm fine apart from some minor scratches on my hands and stomach. The bike is fine. After we made sure everyone was ok, we just laughed about it, but it was a bit frightening! I had slowed down to change gears, but had come to a near stop as we were on a hill and my foot was slow in finding the gear pedal. I put the bike back into second, which is a bit stronger than third, and gave it some gas but I lost control--it was raining, and we were on a hill, and the bike was heavier than the one I learned to drive on....Ah, I'm just thankful everyone is OK. Especially Carrot and that poor man (I really barely hit him and I was going very slow). I can just hear it now..."How did that one Fulbright lose her grant?" "Well, she wrecked a student's motorbike and injured the student and a garbage man." Eek. Jesus, I can't believe I had an accident while driving my STUDENT! At least we were wearing helmets. I almost didn't wear a helmet because they students were short one, but I'm very glad now that I insisted we find a helmet for me. Otherwise this story could have ended quite differently. Phew. Maybe this motorbike business isn't as easy as I thought.

It's funny--This afternoon I went to the pharmacy to get a de-worming tablet--as a precautionary measure, and because I've been having some strange stomach pain lately. Clearly I should have gone to buy a helmet instead!!

Another reason to eat less meat.

2008-12-04T18:56:00.005+07:00

True, when I stopped eating meat about 11 years ago, I wasn't thinking about the environment. I was thinking that meat was pretty gross. Who wants to eat dead animal? Ew. Furthermore, I didn't want to think about animal slaughtering. Blegh.

Now, though, environmental concerns constitute the heart of my vegetarianism. It seems that as years pass I've become a bit more militant about my vegetarianism, as well, and as soon as I can ween myself off cheese I'll become a vegan. In the mean time, it's increasingly clear that one of the biggest ways that individuals can reduce their carbon footprint is to eat less meat (and in my case, less dairy). Meat production generates 18% of greenhouse gasses--more than cars, buses and airplanes.

The head of the United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change has suggested that people eat less meat in an effort to curb greenhouse gas emissions and climate change. This is a call, then, to skip that hamburger, steak, pork chop or chicken salad a couple times a week. I promise--it's easy!

Read more here. I could go on and on about this but I'll let the New York Times do it for me. :)

Currently listening: Chet Baker

Stop that thief!

2008-12-03T00:57:00.006+07:00

Katherine and I spent several hours biking around the city today, stopping intermittently to browse in a store, get bubble tea, buy a bootleg Mariah Carey Christmas Cd. We stopped in a dress shop at one point, having noticed some cute items in the window, but left when we realized that the prices were quite high. We had parked our bikes outside of the shop, locked together, and wandered across the street to another shop. Finding nothing in the second shop, either, we started to leave, at which point Katherine started screaming "HEY! HEY! STOP!" I looked across the street to see a man lifting both our bikes. She and I did our best to sprint across the street--one of the bigger ones in the city--but it was damn game of Frogger, with all the the motorbikes. And we were both, by now, yelling at the man (who clearly didn't speak English) to STOP!. Finally, and still screaming, we made it to the other side of the street, where I was confused to find a shop attendant calmly watching the man struggle to lift both our bikes. And that's when we realized it. The man was not a thief. He was the security guard of the shop. And he was just trying to move our bikes so that he could sit in his chair, which our bikes were blocking.

I was mortified. I apologized over and over in Vietnamese, making little bows, holding my hands up in guilt. This, of course, was in between bouts of gut-wrenching laughter and burying my embarrassed face in my hands. The poor man, who we'd nearly attacked, seemed unaffected by the whole debacle, sat down in his newly liberated chair and lit a cigarette.

First of December

2008-12-01T23:34:00.005+07:00

It doesn't feel like December. In absolutely no way does it feel like December. It's warm. I'm wearing t-shirts. I make sure I have a poncho, not mittens, when I leave the house. And didn't I just leave the States, like, last week? Actually, it was July when I left America. July. I remember very clearly watching my mom and Sam disappear as I went up the escalator at the airport...and then falling apart and crying while waiting at the gate. Yes, I remember that clearly, but in a way it seems like another lifetime altogether. I've been here for over fourth months now, which I can barely believe.

The installment of Christmas decorations around town helps to remind me that this is the last month of 2008. Maximark is donning tinsel and wreathes. The Yasaka, in its ever tackiness, is glitzed out with flashing lights and giant santas. Next door, the posh Sunrise Resort displays more sophistication in its use of lights and garlands, which are hung tastefully in the arched doorways behind a classic christmas tree. And "Asianized" Christmas carols provide a musical backdrop in many stores already. 'Tis the season, even in Vietnam.

I'm really loving all the Christmas stuff, though. I used to hate Christmas, but in the past few years I come to love the holiday season. And even though I'm bummed about being away for Christmas, and even though Christmas in Vietnam will never be the same, I'm finding comfort and excitement in all the lights and tinsel and jingle bells.

I'm also excited about finding THREE new vegetarian places this week! One was decent, and not exactly new, as we had stumbled upon it in my first week here but had never been able to find it again. The second place was incredible--maybe the best "plate of rice and stuff" I've had! And by far the cheapest, at 7000 dong (about 41 cents). The place was full of locals, which is always a good sign. Katherine found a third place today that we'll hopefully try sometime this week.

Our favorite, more up-scale veg place is also offering new appeal, as it's moved from it's tiny, 8-table location to a three-room joint further down the same street. Hopefully it's upgrade won't bring a jump in prices!

In other news, last night Katherine and I ventured into a "fair" we'd heard about in the city. It was a bit outside of town, towards the airport, but it was a lovely night for a long bike ride. We paid 8000 dong to get in and thus witness what, exactly, constitutes a Vietnamese "fair". Apparently it's a two dinky kid rides, a handfull of "games", free samples of wine and tea, clothes vendors and lots of mops for sale. Yes, mops. A disproportionate number of mops. It was all a bit strange and underwhelming, apart for the earsplitting volume of the music blasting through the place. Some guy gave us free bottles of tea, which we decided compensated for the 8000 we paid for ticekts, and we shelled over a few thousand for real ice cream cones. We were, after all, at a fair, and it was the only "fair'' food that appealed to me. (No funnel cakes in sight. Only fried meat on sticks. Ew.

This morning I got another sweet treat. I finally managed to get some office hours set up, since I was sick last week and re-scheduled them. One student, one of the girls who had come to visit me while I was sick, showed up. She took a few years off before starting uni so she's actually only a year younger than me, and she speaks great English. I helped her with a few sounds she was having trouble with, and then we just chatted for nearly an hour. Before we left she handed me a plastic bag with a metal container inside--she had brought me home-made che!!! Her mother had made it--creamy tapioca with stewed plantain bananas. One of my favorites!

And if that gesture weren't enough, she offered to take me on Thursday to check out the private English school in the city. And then to take me to see how fish sauce is made. I'm kind of dreading the olfactory experience involved, but I'm sure it will be interesting!

Due to a killer headache I took a long nap today. I feel great otherwise, no stomach pain, but I'm still just so tired.

I also got my first piece of unopened mail today! Granted, it took nearly a month to get here, but I can't complain about that when the mail had clearly maintainted its integrity through the Vietnamese postal system. A true feat! It was a mailer from Judi, Sam's mother, decorate with autumn leaves on the outside. On the inside I found 9 cartoonish illustrations of some of my experiences here--getting my jade bracelet, singing and biking in the rain, performing "Head Shoulders Knees and Toes" for my students (really one of my brightest moments in life...), watching Obama win the presidency with Sam, from a cozy bed in Asia Paradise Hotel. It was really just so "Judi", the whole concept and aesthetic, which I miss. The package made my day, and luckily I have another mailer to look forward to as I hear she sent a Christmas one too!

I have only a week left in Nha Trang before I head to Da Nang for conference, where we will be staying at a five-star beach resort. American tax dollars hard at work, I tell ya! I'll travel for at least a month, I think, before coming back to Nha Trang. I'm feeling a bit sad about being gone that long. For being such a nomad I sure get attached to places quickly. It's a bad quality for a wandering soul to have! At any rate, I'm looking forward to it, though, and luckily I found a (knock off) North Face backpacking pack at Maximark for $24 dollars.

In the mean time I still have a splitting headache (vomit). Time for bed. :) I've been having crazy dreams lately--last night I met George Clooney on a bench here in Vietnam--so I'm looking forward to some unconscious, nocturnal adventures....

Bye, bye hair.

2008-11-30T21:50:00.005+07:00

I didn't wait for votes about the hair. After I posted the blog, Lien called and asked if I wanted to run some errands with her and go to the nail shop. I interpreted this as the universe telling me to go ahead and cut my hair since I'd already be at the salon to have my nails done. Actually, I tried to ignore the "sign" to cut my hair, and told the girl to just to take off a little....but she ended up cutting it really short. And I love it! In fact I think might want it a little shorter. Not a problem since it costs about $1.65 to get a haircut around here. I swear, the thought of paying western prices for things just makes my stomach hurt lately. Anyway, here's the outcome. I haven't had short hair in about ten years, and this time last year my hair was past my boobs! (They won't tell you but most girls measure their hair in relation to their breasts. :)

Wellness, Thanksgiving, New Friends...

2008-11-30T12:40:00.003+07:00

Firstly, I'm feeling much better and I'm absolutely thrilled about it. I'm hoping the problem doesn't recur.

Unfortunately I wasn't back to normal by Thanksgiving. Maryanne, a British volunteer at another college, and at whose house we were holding Thanksgiving dinner, was also a bit unwell, so our menu was modified a bit. We skipped the caramelized tofu, bought some green beans from a restaurant nearby, and only made pumpkin soup, mashed potatoes and some sauteed veggies. The soup was delicious--kudos to Chef Katherine--and really hit the spot. Katherine thus continued to supply nearly my entire diet. She's brought me soup, noodles, drinks, breakfast, all found hanging on my doorknob when I wake up. Being sick without her would be much more miserable!

It was a quiet meal among four friends--Steve, Maryanne, Katherine and myself--and didn't feel a damn thing like Thanksgiving. That's probably for the best, though. The fact that nothing here feels like the "holiday season"--even with the installment of christmas decorations at hotels and playing of christmas music in stores--makes being away much easier for me. My annual trip to my grandfather's home for Thanksgiving is one of my favorite things in life, and I was sad to miss it.

By Friday I felt much better, though, and went to class (pronunciation for first years) on Friday afternoon. Several students for this class had come to visit me while I was sick, and had called, texted and emailed all the time to check on me, offer to bring me food, take me to the doctor. Needless to say I'm getting quite attached to this class. :) And the session on Friday went especially well and felt especially rewarding. I like teaching pronunciation.

I was feeling so well after class that I decided to bike into town with Katherine for dinner at a veg place. We remembered that Charles, the owner of Texas restaurant, had planned to serve pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving, and after dinner we decided to swing by to see if had any left. (My own plan to make "bakeless pumpkin pie" was abandoned due to illness.) To my joy, he still had some pie! After offering to heat the pie and serve it with icecream (yes to both, please!), Charles introduced Katherine and me to two young men who were also dining. The boy--twins, actually--have lived here in Nha Trang for three years and own a furniture exporting company here. We accepted their invitation to eat with them. It turns out they're American-Philipino, went to Berkeley and Columbia for undergrad, and dont fit the normal "expat" stereotype, which was quite a relief. Katherine and I enjoyed out desserts, they enjoyed their dinners, we chatted, Charles sat down with us to talk every now and then....It felt a bit strange to be talking with all Americans, in a very Western style restaurant...but the pumpkin pie was sublime. That's all I really wanted out of Thanksgiving, and somehow, in Nha Trang, Vietnam, half way around the world, I got it.

After dinner we went for a drink at Guava bar, a chill little place in the tourist district run by a Canadian guy. Had some wine, met some other expats (all men of course), talked, went home. Really a nice evening--just talking and a glass of wine. Lately I've wanted to find a place to just go have a drink and relax. Not a club, not a disco. It seems that I've found it! And I'm hoping I've found some new friends, as well. It would be quite nice to have some more young American friends.

I couldn't get to sleep Friday night--I was up til nearly 3am--but I woke up early on Saturday nonetheless and decided to join Katherine for breakfast with the manager of the Asia Paradise hotel. She'd talked about him a lot and I had been looking forward to meeting him. He's an older gentleman with a kind smile and obvious wisdom. He and a friend drank tea and talked to us about Vietnam while Katherine and I enjoyed breakfast. He also offered to look into NGOs in Nha Trang, since both Katherine and I would ideally like to stay in Nha Trang but we'd like to find some other work to get involved in, as well.

After breakfast we stopped in at Maximark. I've been wanting to have some dresses made, so I decided to look at the upstairs (clothes) section to get some ideas for what kind of dresses I'd like. I ended up buying 3 shirts (including a cool Che Guevara one and a left-over Banana Republic one) and a dress. Oops :) It was just so cheap, and in my sickness I haven't been spending any money lately, and I'm living so far under my budget anyway....Ok, I'm trying to justify, I know. I'm especially fond of the dress--a short brown eyelit smock to be worn with black tights. Lately I've REALLY been missing wearing winter dresses with tights and boots--my favorite fashion invention ever. Summer dresses and smocks with tights and flats will have to suffice until I relocate to colder climates. (Sam is in London now and said all the English girls--maybe even Anna Peacock? jeje :) -- are running around in dresses, tights, boots, and coats....sigh.)

While trying on clothes at Maximark--let me assure you that their dressing rooms are nicer than their WC--a Vietnamese lady kept opening Katherine's curtain. And then, while Katherine and I were outside of our little curtains, looking in the mirror and contemplating our prospective purchases, the woman stole Katherine's clothes that she was trying on and took them into her own curtain. Clearly there's some Vietnamese dressing room etiquette that I'm missing.

On our way home we spent a good hour on New Bridge watching a movie or something be filmed on the shore of the fishing village. We nearly had to run from the police, who came to clear out all the motorbikes that were parked along the street, but luckily another onlooker communicated to us that we, only bicycles, were fine. Phew! After watching nothing happen on the set for a while, we became more invested in the little children who were pulling around a crab that they'd tied to a string. Who needs Tonka when you have twine and crustaceans? We eventually came to the conclusion that the views from the top of New Bridge are some of the best in the city. We lingered for quite a while, watching, looking, absorbing all the activity and enjoying the strikingly pleasant weather....

The weather has been quite lovely lately--relatively dry, cool, breezy. Perfect temperature during the day and even a bit crisp at night if you're just in short sleeves. My students, however, all bundle up in furry jackets and scarves. Everything's relative, I guess.

One last hooray for feeling better! :)

And, finally, I'm heavily considering chopping most of my hair off. I can't make a decision about next year, so I'm making this decision instead. Maybe. I'm taking votes, so cast yours! :)

Currently listening: Words and Music, by Aqualung

Still sick.

2008-11-26T22:10:00.002+07:00

I'm doing a lot better than yesterday but still nowhere near 100%. But today wasn't without its positive moments. A group of students came to check on me twice today. I had told my students that I would hold office hours (a pretty foreign concept here) this week, in case they needed extra help for upcoming exams. I arranged to be in the office at 9am, but since I was sick yesterday, I set my alarm for 7am this morning to see how I was feeling. Still shitty, it turned out. I thus called my boss to ask her to let my students know I would re-schedule. I didn't even know if anyone would show up since it was my first morning of self-arranged "office hours". For some reason, though, my students who did show up didn't get the message that needed to reschedule. They did find out, though, through the grapevine, that I was sick, and thus came banging on my door around 9:30 to make sure I was ok. I was slow to get up and answer the door as I was sleeping, and when I answered the door, I found three students who looks like they'd just seen ghosts. When I hadn't answered the door at first they assumed I had collapsed in my room. I assured them it wasn't that serious, thanked them for visiting, and they sent me back to bed with their own gambit of medical advice.

Their knocking on my door, though, lead me to find that Katherine had brought me from the market two of my favorite things: vegetarian soup from xoi bap (corn sticky rice) woman, who sells this delicious soup only on the first and fifteenth of the lunar month; and vegetarian noodles and tofu from "vegetarian lady" who's only at the market on those two lunar events, as well. I took my charcoal pills and ate what I could of the soup for brunch, and it totally hit the spot. The noodles were good for dinner, as well, and I nibbled on some bread in between.... I'm trying to eat even though I dont have an appetite, because last time this happened I didn't really eat for a few days and I think that made everything worse. Today, then, I owe my entire nurtrional intake to Katherine, who brought me such tasty food without my even asking! I dont know what I'd do without her.

Lien also stopped by and kept me company for a while. I was supposed to go to lunch with her and her boyfriend yesterday, but obviously those plans were canceled.

Around six pm I found four more students at my door, including two--Carrot and Mia, from my class of first year students--who had also come this morning. Between her two visits Carrot had texted me saying that she'd heard that yesterday I had continued teaching even though I was "seriously ill". Again, I'm really not as bad off as the rumor mill would have it. She had brought back two more of her classmates, Rachel and John (these are the English names they chose). These kids are really outstanding students in the classroom, and, as it turns out, outside of the classroom as well! They stayed with me for a couple of hours, chatting, telling stories, looking at pictures of my friends and family. It was nice to have some company! After they left, Rachel (whose real name is Chau) emailed me, wishing me well and suggesting that I go to the doctor/hospital tomorrow.

It seems that some students already think I'm already there, as I student friend of ours asked Katherine today about how I was doing in the hospital. Everyone must think I'm worse off than I am!

And, best of all, I unexpectedly got to talk to my mom and my sister tonight! Mom called my mobile and we talked for quite a while. I haven't talked to her in weeks. Then I caught my sister on gchat, and I haven't talked to her really in so long...I miss her so, so much. In the past couple of years she's gone from just my "kid sister" to a dear friend, and I'm increasingly sad that I'm missing her first, and maybe her second, year of high school. And I feel almost a parental connection to her, given our family's past. We dont' get to talk much these days but I'm finding myself thinking about her all the time.

I'm a bit sad about missing Thanksgiving with my family--my mom, my sister this year (sometimes she's at her dad's house), my grandfather and his wife, usually Sam--at my grandfather's home in Ohio. It's one of my favorite events of the year, to be surrounded by some of my favorite people in the world. And I always see my lovely cousin Molly on the day after Thanksgiving--we go to this shopping area in Columbus called Easton, walk around for hours, catch up, and inevitably leave without buying a single damn thing. Being away for the holidays is a bit harder than I thought it would be. I think it would be even harder if the seasons here corresponded to what I associate with "holiday season" at home...

But, if I wake up feeling ok tomorrow, we're going to do our best to recreate thanksgiving here in Vietnam: caramelized tofu, green beans, mashed potatoes, corn, bread, pumpkin soup, salad. If I wake up with even the slightest bit of pain, I'm going to the doctor. Here's hoping to the former!!

Rain + Stomach Ache + Internet =....

2008-11-25T21:09:00.006+07:00

It equals "stuck inside with minimal connection to the outside world." The stomach problems that I had last week (and while Sam was here, and once before Sam was here) returned this morning with a vengeance. I woke up around 7:40, feeling ok and ready for my 8:40 class....but while I was walking to class I began to feel terrible. And by the time I got to class, I could hardly stand up. My torso felt like it was being shredded from the indside. My boss, who I was co-teaching with, could tell something was wrong but I tried to push through it. Which absolutely backfired. A few minutes later I was puking in a trashcan (which I'm pretty sure had algae growing in it) outside of the classroom, in full view of most of my students and definitely my boss. I did my best to be dainty about it--holding back my own hair and cream-colored, lace scarf--but let's be honest. It's gross.

Of course, my boss sent me home, assuring me that it was "serious" and that she'd bring me some medicine later. I'd already descibed my symptoms to her, before I vomited for everyone's entertainment. Walking home, though, I thought I was going to pass out. And I'm not the type of person that passes out. Thankfully I made it back to room, rushed to the toilet, and then just absolutely collapsed. I was shaking, freezing but covered in sweat, could barely stand, and, worst of all, doubled over in pain. I wanted to sleep but the pain kept me wide awake, so for several hours I just dozed in between waves of pain.

As promised, my boss, Ms. Hong, hand delivered a batch of meds to my door. She had told me earlier that she had a "great chemist" that always fixed her stomach problems. After a couple hours in the fetal position, I had texted my boss to skip the chemist and just take me to a doctor (after all, this is the fourth--and worst--time this has happened in a little over a month), but she'd left her mobile at home. When she arrived, I agreed to take the medicine for two days and see if the situation improved. She kept saying that the pills would help my "destiny", while rubbing her stomach. I'm assuming "destiny" in this case means "digestion", but if they help my destiny, I'm ok with that too.

One goodbad thing about Vietnam is that I can walk up to a counter and get medicine here that, in the states, I could only get with a prescription or a gun to someone's head. For example, I easily and cheaply bought some antivirals here that are expensive and hard to get in the states. Another difference is that, here, you dont buy a whole package of medicine, but you just buy the number of pills you need. The pharmacist just cuts up the blister pack and gives you x number of pills for x number of days' treatment. Great, right? Well, kinda. It's great when you know what kind of medicine you need and how much of it to take, like with those antivirals that I've been taking since the first time I got shingles when I was 12 years old. But when your boss is buying your drugs, and the drugs aren't sold in the packages but just in the little blister packs, without the information pamphlet, medicinal consumption becomes a bit more scary. I didn't know what exactly I was taking or how it would react with any other medicine I take. I tried to google the names on the backs of the blister packs, but that plan met only partial success since on of the blister packs didn't have the full name on it (it had been cut off).

I learned, to my relief, that 2 of the 3 drugs Ms. Hong brought me were of French manufacture--always a good sign with medicine here. One was just activated charcoal, and I was told to take two of those pills before I ate. The second turned out to be a French variety of a drug called Metronidazole, which is used to treat, among many other things, protozoal and anarobic bacterial infections, including those from heliobacter pylori (which, thanks to my senior year bio class, I know causes ulcers). Two of those pills after I ate. The third pill, one of which to be taken after eating, has yet to be idenitified, but the first two seem legit so I'm not too worried.

(Edit: Since writing this blog, further investigation has revealed that the mysterious "third pill" is most likely Pancrecarb, a medication that contains digestive enzymes to help break down and digest fats, starch, and proteins in food. Seems harmless enough)

The bottom line is that I'm starting to feel better. Some of the pain has subsided and the frequency of bathroom trips has been reduced. Since the last time these stomach problems occured, they lasted for days, I'm willing to give some of the credit to the drugs. Last time I just self medicated with hot water and mashed up ginger. I hate taking a lot of medicine though, especially without knowing the cause of the problem, and 10 pills a day is really not my thing. Hopefully this round of meds will permanently get rid of whatever is causing my problems.

In addition to the fact that I hate being relegated to my room and curled up in the fetal position for days at a time, the stomach problems are getting in the way of my work. I missed a couple classes last week, and today I left my morning class early and canceled my evening class. The semester is nearly over--in fact, today was the last day of my morning class before the exam--and it's not an optimal time to play hookie.

My dear students are so sweet, though. Three of them brought me my umbrella, which I'd forgotten as I stumbled out of class this morning, and sent me back to bed with their own gambit of medical advice.

Aaaand, one of those three students just got an interview for a scholarship I told her about. I'm SO excited for her! If she gets it, she'll be able to study in the states for 6 months, which, for many students here, is a dream that will probably never become a reality.

Another student, Carrot, the girl whose English name I so defended, has changed her name to Holly. All my efforts were for naught. Yesterday I received an urgent-sounding text message, followed by an even more frantic email, from her, saying the following:

This afternoon I heard you saying something like, "I'll leave on the 8th"..... You aren't going to leave us, are you? Please answer me as soon as possible ( T___T )

Carrot

She seems to be continuing with 'carrot' as her pen name, at least. I assured her that I was only going to Danang on the 8th and that I would be back, much to her joy ("ohhhhhhhh....... thanks !!!! I was in a very bad mood since the afternoon. I didn't want to know that you will leave us that SOON :):):) thanks a lot, Miss :):):)" ). She continued to ask me if I was "really a vegetarian", and when I explained that i was, she said she was surprised since most vegetarians are pale and weak but I always have so much energy in her class. She added that I needed more sleep, though, since I yawn sometimes. :) It turns out that Carrot was also the artiste who made the hand-made teacher's day card that I received from her class. You know, the one that had 'We love you so much!" written on it about a billion times, in addition to "Please stay with us as long as possible!" beside a sad face. I bet this girl is a master of peer pressure.

Even with the care of my boss, Katherine, my students, a mysterious person who just texted me to ask about my health since she "saw [my] face turn pale today"--I swear, the walls here have eyes--being sick on the other side of the world isn't my favorite thing. And the chronic nature of this problem is just frustrating. I'm vagina-crossing my fingers that a little charcoal, metronidazole and mystery drug clear it all up before rainy season ends and beach season starts again. :)

Around town.

2008-11-22T20:37:00.005+07:00

With no obligations today (other than an English Club rehearsal that we found out about after the fact), Katherine and I spent a lovely day biking around the city. We've been so busy lately that we haven't really been into the city in over a week. And we've become quite accustomed to our normal "path" in the city: Dinner at one of our favorite veg places, followed by bubble tea or smoothies. Normally we're on a bit of at time crunch, as well, since normally one of us teaches until 5:15 pm, which means that we can't leave the uni until 5:30 or so, and we'd like to get home at a reasonable hour. But today, we biked around with little or no objective, and it was lovely. We discovered new streets and areas of town, explored an appliance store (I saw the first ovens and vacuum cleaners I've seen since coming to Vietnam four months ago!), tried to get my necklace chain repaired, looked for a backpacking pack for me. The latter two goals were not achieved but I wasn't particularly invested in either.

While biking through the tourist area (in hopes of finding a backpack) we passed the Texas restaurant. Yes, there's a Texas restaurant here. We decided to see if they had macaroni and cheese--I've been craving it lately. As we approached the menu that was sitting on the podium outside the restaurant, and middle-aged man in the restaurant said, "If you like American food, you'll love this place. We import everything." He was clearly American himself, and I informed him that we were, too. We chatted for a few minutes--him on the stoop of the restaurant, Katherine and I on the sidewalk with our bikes. Turns out he's from California, not Texas. After a couple moments it started to rain, so he invited Katherine and me in for drinks on the house.

He didn't have macaroni and cheese, but he did offer a couple hours of conversation. Katherine and I sipped our tea and talked with our new friend Charles, comparing experiences here, etc. He's been in Vietnam on and off since 2006, was in HCMC for the past year and just moved to Nha Trang three months ago. And he plans to die here, apparently. He seems like a really nice guy, and he treats his staff really well, which I appreciate. It seems like that isn't the case with some foreigners in this town, who are condescending and rude to their employees. After a while, another middle-aged man joined us. I think his name was Larry but I'm not sure. An American as well, he's been on holiday here for 3 weeks but is planning to move here. We learned that he's a member of the screen actors' guild and used to be on The Bold and the Beautiful. Between our actor friend and Charles, whose wife (19 years his junior) divorced him a coulp years ago, Katherine and I made some interesting new acquaintances today. I was pretty dismissive of the expat community here, but these men seem genuine, generous, and not exclusively here to find women. Charles demanded that we "don't be strangers" and offered to take us out sometime. And between the vegetarian dishes he's promised to work up, and the pancakes with maple syrup he has on his menu, I'm sure I'll be back!

After leaving Texas and grabbing dinner, Katherine and I tried the second of two new bubble tea places we've discovered. Our drinks weren't phenomenal but I did manage to have a legitimate conversation in Vietnamese: How old I am, where I'm from, what I do, how long I've been here and how long I'll stay. Unfortunately that's about the extent of my vietnamese, apart from "No meat", "I'm a vegetarian", "One sticky rice and 2 soy milks, one without ice and one with," and "2 che, one with taro ice cream." and "What are you doing?" I'm embarrassed by how little work I've done learning Vietnamese....

While I had a lovely day biking in the city and making new friends, the highlight of my day occured back on this side of the bridge. Recently Katherine and I noticed that, in the building in front of which Monsieur Banana sits and sells his bananas, a new microbrewery has been erected. Yep, a full-on microbrewery with huge copper vats and pipes and such. And tonight, when we stopped for our nightly bananas, Monsier was sitting with a few other men and several huge cups of beer. He picked up his glass and offered it to me, saying "C'est superior!" And I thus shared a glass of beer with Monsieur Banana. I don't even like beer, but it sure made my day.

Our last English Club of the semester is tomorrow, and I can't say I'm sad about it. 7am on a Sunday morning just isn't an optimal time for me to be singing and dancing around. And I know that no one who participates really enjoys it--the students think it's boring and the teachers are sad to lose their one day off a week. I tried to talk to some students about how to improve the age-old tradition, but they unenthusiastically explained that there just aren't enough resources or money. I'm going to try to think of somethings, though, to improve on next semester, when apparently I will have more autonomy in planning it.

Before that happens, though, I'm looking forward to some traveling adventures. On 8 December the Embassy is flying me (and the other Fulbrighters) to Da Nang to do some seminars and such. I'm so excited to see the gang again! After Da Nang I'm heading up to Dong Hoi with Becca. I'll spend a few days there with her while she finishes up teaching, and then she and I will leisurely work our way back down the coast to Da Lat, where we'll meet up with everyone again for Christmas. Dong Hoi should be quiet and very "authentic", but there are some caves and other things to see. And the best part is that Becca and I are going to rent a motorbike and go exploring!!

Becca, it turns out, is also thinking about staying another year here, which excites me. "You, me, and some wine need to sit down and talk about this," she said. I couldn't agree more. Just another reason to look forward to conference in Danang.

Currently listening: Lost Songs, by David Gray

Adult Decisions

2008-11-21T09:40:00.008+07:00

As the semester draws to a close, and I realize that soon I'll have only six months left as a Fulbrighter, I'm feeling pressured to figure out what I'll do after my grant ends next summer. I'm pretty sure--but not decided--that I would like to stay abroad for a second year. I'm leaning towards a developing country but I'm really open to any that isn't currently war-torn. Much deliberation has reduced my options to the four following ones. (I'm thinking that maybe writing all this down will help me sort it out.)

1. Stay in Nha Trang teaching at the university, but without sponsorship from the Fulbright Program, whose grants are only one year.
Pros:

I'm already settled here, with a network of friends, reliable vendors at the market, favorite restaurants, etc. It's taken me three months to really get a hold here, and I'm not sure I want to take another three months to set-up again in another city.
I love the city, looooove the beach. I'm so happy here. And I have a theory that to really even start to know a place, you need to live there two years. The first year as a "practise run"--figuing things out--the second year with everything under your belt. I'm a nomad, it's true, but I like having a good understanding of a place where I've lived.
THE BEACH. Did I mention the beach? Did you know that there's a gorgeous beach about five minutes from where I live? Did I mention the calming effect that the ocean has on me?

Cons:

I'd be making basically no money, and would actually be losing money by staying here. The university I think would pay me about $63 dollars a month, an amount that would have to be supplemented by me, of course.
Teaching EFL, as it turns out, is not my passion. I love what I'm doing but I don't want to do it forever. Maybe I should move on to something more career-oriented.
There aren't many, if any, other work options for me in Nha Tang other than teaching English.
A second year of teaching here would be a lot more work for, and a lot less money. I'm not sure that's an equation I want when I'm not heart-and-soul invested in what I'm doing.

2. Stay in Vietnam, but move to another city where I could find a more "career related" job, or at least a teaching job that pays.
Pros:

I'd love to stay in Vietnam. See above "two year" theory. Plus, I like this place, and I'd like to have a second year to learn the language. (Since it's going so slowly this year!)
I could possibly find a more career related job.
I could possibly find another job that actually pays me.

Cons:

Finding another job that is both career related and pays a living wage could be challenging, if not impossible. And I'm not sure I want to teach another year.
I would have to relocate to another city just when I'm finally getting the hang of this one.

3. Go to another country to find a more "career related" job.
Pros:

I'd get to live in another country for a year--chalk one up to life experiences!
Theoretically I'd have a job I like.

Cons:

I'd have to move to another country and totally readjust. I'm just getting adjusted here!
Finding a job in another country would be much more difficult than finding another job here, where I have a network and where I can be on-the-ground for interviews, etc.
I'd have to say goodbye to any chance of proficiency in Vietnamese.

4. Go back to the US and find a job.
Pros:

I could see family and friends and eat at those restaurants I've been missing.
I'm saving quite a bit of money here. Maybe I should get out while I'm ahead.

Cons:

The economy, if you haven't noticed, sucks. I'm not optimistic about finding a decent job, since I only have a Bachelors degree, very little experience, and no tangible skill to offer.
In addition to not having a job I don't really have a place to live, although that could be worked out.
I also dont have a great idea of what I want to do, anyway.
If I want to do any kind of international work, especially development work, I need at least a couple years' experience abroad.

Ideally I could find a job in Nha Trang, but I just dont know if that's a realistic possibility. If I came back to the US for the summer to work, or got a job at a language school in Vietnam that paid me, I could support myself for a second year. Plus I'm saving a lot of money right now to live on in case I decide to stay.

I think it boils down to this: I want to stay in Nha Trang, but I'm not sure if I want to continue this job making about 6% of what I'm making right now.

Two other factors to consider are that I need to do the Camino de Santiago, a pilgrimage in Spain, before I'm too old or too bogged down in the real world; and that I would like some semblance of financial security, including, perhaps, owning property, in the next 5-8 years.

I would also like to add that while this decision feels a bit intimidating at times, I'm approaching it calmly and logically. I'm not panicking about it like I would have a year or so ago. Maybe I just need to go sit on the shore, be quiet for a while, reflect, and let the answers work themselves out instead of trying to force them. The way I see it, I'm ultimately choosing between 4 pretty good options, and I feel like there are so many possibilities. And, most importantly, I am thankful for the luxury of choice. More and more, I understand what a luxury it really is. More on that later.

In the meantime, dear readers, I would love some advice. What do you think?

(Edit: Since posting this I received a card from my students, in honor of Teachers' Day, which was yesterday, asking me to stay here with them as long as possible. Beside that request was sad face, even with tears! Talk about emotional exploitation! )

Currently listening: Don't Let the Stars Keep Us Tangled Up, by Cortney Tidwell

Rain + Stomach Ache - Internet = ....

2008-11-17T15:55:00.008+07:00

It equals "stuck inside without connection to the outside world." The rains have continued to be heavy, and I've had this blasted stomach ache that I can't shake. It seems to be entirely unrelated to food, and I've had it 3 times in the past month or so. It brings sharp, intermittent pains that feel like something is trying to claw its way out of my stomach. It's not the worst pain, but it lasts for several days, keeps me awake at night and keeps me near the WC/curled up in bed during the day. Really, more annoying than anything. And what I think was a case of mild dehydration (from not being able to retain any fluids, if you know what I mean) brought about the worst charlie horse I've ever had. I woke up from a nap yesterday with nearly unbearable pain in my left leg--my calf muscle had seized up and wouldn't release itself for several minutes. I've had plenty of such cramps but this one was on a whole new level...When it finally went away, I passed out back into sleep again, exhausted. A very strange day of internal maladies!

On top of this is a now 5-day run without internet in the building. My boss keeps saying it will be working again "maybe tomorrow", but I think she says that just to placate me.

This probably sounds like complaining, but even with the stomach ache and without the internet, I'm completely happy. Not much gets me down these days. Plus, I've had plenty to do when I'm not napping (I'm also super low energy). I've been reading, watching movies (Good Night and Good Luck, and some old Lost re-runs I found on my computer), studying Vietnamese, editing a PhD thesis about shared fisheries in the South China Sea.

I'm feeling slightly better today, due my friend Lien's emergency delivery, once she learned that I stomach ache, of fresh ginger and a pestle. She showed me how to make a strong ginger drink that should settle my stomach. It's still hurting but perhaps the ginger concoction takes a while to work? She left me with some extra ginger and the pestle so I'll try some more self-medicating later this evening.

With all the rains, the city is flooding some. The uni is up on a hill so the flooding is minimal--although the streets do still flood some--but in the rest of the city I've heard that people are having to use boats to get around. And, very sadly, three students from another college drowned in sea last week. The water is really rough this time of year, with strong currents and big waves. After a couple days, two of the bodies had been found, near where they died, but the third body was still missing. By Thursday, it was starting to rain again, which would soon make it nearly impossible to find the body. In desperation, the family of the boy consulted a fortune teller, who apparently asked the spirit of the boy where his body was. The boy's spirit informed the fortune teller that his body was in Cam Ranh Bay, out by the airport--a 40-minute drive from where the boys drowned. Later that day, around midnight, before the rains became heavy again, the boy's body was found in Cam Ranh Bay. The magic of this place continues to amaze me.

The rain seems like it will stick around for a while, but Lien told me today that after the 23 of October (in the lunar calendar) the rains subside significantly. Today is the 20th of October, so we'll see.

a flooded street and a fruit vendor

On the 20th of November (by the regular calendar), which means Thursday, is Teacher's Day here in Vietnam. This seems to be a pretty big holiday--classes are canceled, dinners are held, songs and dances (no doubt in honor of Uncle Ho) are performed. I have my first such dinner tonight. I'm struggling to eat even crackers or soup, so I'm a little nervous about eating a "real meal" in a restaurant where the facilities might be questionable!

I've been happy, though, to catch Sam's Kimmel performances on youtube. The first is "You Don't Know Me" feat Regina Spektor, a single from the album, and the second is "Nobody does it Better", feat. Inara George of the band The Bird and The Bee, from the new James Bond movie.

More pictures and stories from our journey through the central highlands will come soon, I promise! Back in the States, Sam has fortunately recovered most of a memory card, that we thought had been corrupted, full of photos from the trip. For better or worse, though, most of the photos from one of the minority villages we visited were lost. He and I both had reservations about taking photos there, even though our drivers assured it was ok, so we're feeling peaceful about losing them. And as he said, it was something we'll never, never forget, so the pictures aren't even necessary. But here are some more photos that he's already posted online--my picasa updates will follow soon!

we stopped to walk in a little town, and a woman insisted that I hold her child. He was adorable, so I agreed :)
(By the way, if I could be assured that my child would look like a vietnamese baby, I'd definitely have one!!)

the little kitten we found, after I found him stuck in a jasmine tree in the rain

a run-down school in a minority area in the central highlands

one of many overturned trucks we saw on the drive

Our drivers and us, just before getting back into Nha Trang

at a waterfall in the mountains, climbing out of the rabbit hole

view from a petrol station somewhere in the middle of Vietnam

on a rainy stretch of drive....

Currently listening: "Heart" and "Set Yourself on Fire", by Stars

A not-so-brief, and incomplete, update.

2008-11-12T22:32:00.005+07:00

Finally, a long overdue post. So much has happened in the past two weeks! But the last thing I wanted to do when Sam was here was sit in front of my computer screen, and since he’s left I’ve been busier than ever. But today, with my morning class canceled and the electricity off for the day (luckily I have some battery power in my laptop!), I’m at last finding myself with the opportunity to write a little.

I probably don’t even need to say it, but Sam’s visit was wonderful. Beyond wonderful. It had been three months since we’d seen each other, and even though we’ve been doing this long distance thing for four years, it was the longest stretch we’d done. And with his his busy tour schedule, the 12-hour time difference and our common lack of reliable internet, it was our most challenging stretch, as well. We needed some time together!

from our balcony on the first morning.

And for me, it was such a relief to just have my best friend here. Someone who really knows me, someone I’m so close to, someone who finishes my sentences or understands what I’m thinking without my saying a single word. I have many friends here, yes, and some that I’m getting quite close to, but really developing a deep friendship like I have with Sam takes lots of time (four years, in fact!) and lots of in-depth conversation.

On top of that, it was good to have someone here who really loves me. :)

Our first couple of days in Nha Trang were quite busy, with a wedding, retrieving his suitcase that arrived a day late, showing him some of my usual haunts and introducing him to my new friends. We really only had Wednesday and Thursday here before we left for Da Lat. It was so interesting for me to see and hear his reactions to everything. His first evening—he arrived around dinner time on Tuesday—I took him to a little pho/noodle joint down the street from my building. The place is really just the front half of someone’s house, which is a common business arrangement here, and the seating is just little plastic stools. It’s not very clean and you drink your tea out of communal cups (which aren’t very clean, either). All of this is totally standard for me at this point, but Sam’s eyes were wide during the entire meal. Of course, he had been traveling for an entire day so any situation would have seemed surreal to him, but I think he was definitely experiencing a little culture shock! Luckily he enjoyed his meal—round noodles (like spaghetti made from rice, called bun)—and he was equally shocked by the price. 12,000 dong, or 72 cents, for two big bowls of noodles and a demi-baguette.

Hopefully Sam will still be able to make a guest appearance at my blog, so I won’t talk too much more about his thoughts and reflections…

I wanted Sam to see at least one other city in Viet Nam on his first visit, so we planned a trip. After considering a few options, we decided to go to Da Lat. I’d never heard a bad thing about the city—it’s where the French built all their vacation villas, so I knew it couldn’t be too bad. We left on Friday morning around 6:30, but when we got to the bus station there were a few problems with our tickets. After finally getting all of that worked out, we encountered a much more serious problem. We had both forgotten our passports. I couldn’t believe it. We were already sitting in the mini-bus, ready to pull out of the bus station. After a few tense moments of heatedly trying to figure out what to do (during which I was little rude to poor Sam, very sorry dear!), we decided to get off the bus and go back for our passports. Actually, I thought we should just go on without our passports, but Sam insisted that we needed them. Of course, he was right in the end. We couldn’t go without our passports! What was I thinking?! But that made us even for a similar tense situation we had a couple of years ago at the train station in La Spezia when I insisted we needed to buy our tickets before we got on the train, and he thought we could buy them on the train, and we had to decide instantly because the train was leaving—and I was right. :)

But I digress. We decided to get off the bus. Luckily one of the bus drivers spoke pretty good English. He had helped us with the ticket problem and I recruited his assistance again for this crisis. I’m sure he thought I was a total idiot—a fair assumption since I had made such a stupid mistake—but he helped me nonetheless. Another bus was leaving in half an hour, and the guy threw me on the back of his friend’s motorbike, snapped his own helmet on my head, and instructed his friend to race across town so I could pick up our passports. All of this happened in about 45 seconds, and before I knew it I was speeding off on a motorbike with a stranger who spoke no English, leaving Sam behind at the bus station and yelling to him as I drove away, “Where’s the keyyyyy?!”

We literally had to get all the way across town and back, during rush hour, in half an hour. And we had to make two stops—one at the hotel to get Sam’s passport, and one at the university (just down the street from the hotel) to get mine. But at the hotel, the receptionist didn’t have the key to the safe where the passports were kept and had to call to get someone to bring her the keys, which took about ten minutes. I couldn’t believe it. Soon it was clear we would be late getting back to the bus station, but my impromptu chauffer had been making calls on his mobile so I assumed he was telling my bus to wait 5 extra minutes. When Sam’s passport was finally liberated from the GMC hotel safe, it was back on the motorbike for another speed-demon trip across the city….

But when we pulled into the bus station, a guy yelled something at my motorbike driver and we pulled out of the station again without even stopping. Basically just did a u-turn! I had no idea if Sam was still at the bus station, waiting in the lobby, or if the bus had left already and I was going to meet it somewhere. I figured everything was ok, though. The men at the bus station knew that Sam and I were traveling together and they had helped us out so much already. I trusted them. As expected, five minutes later we pulled up to the bus, stopped on the side of the rode. Sam was standing on the sidewalk looking distressed, trying to talk to the driver who spoke no English but was gesturing for Sam to get back into the bus. He was visibly relieved when he saw me. I had assumed what was going on and trusted the bus drivers to reconnect us—I’ve had plenty of experience with such magic of Vietnam—but Sam, having only been here for two days, was panicked to be on a bus, on the way to Da Lat, without any idea where I was. He seemed like he was about to cry. But after a few minutes were settled into our seats on the mini-bus (think fancy 15 passenger van), snug between an emotional 20-something girl and a monk. Ok, so maybe we won’t win the Amazing Race anytime soon, but if nothing else we solved our passport problem with creativity and speed, and started out trip only 30 minutes late but with lots of energy!

the monk at the window

About 30 minutes into the drive, the girl beside us yelled to the driver to stop. She climbed out of the bus—we were in the middle of the countryside at this point—and just walked away, down the barely paved road. The other passengers were visibly concerned, and we waited a while to make sure she was ok. But it looked like she was crying. Eventually we drove off, leaving the girl behind. There were plenty of houses around, and she had a cell phone she had been talking on, so I assumed she would be ok, but I thought about her a lot during the trip and hoped everything worked out for her.

The drive to Da Lat, which is in the mountains, was breathtaking, if at times a little scary. We took the “new road”, which only takes 3 hours, instead of six hours on the old road, and with the unfortunate departure of my young female seatmate, we actually had enough room to be comfortable and look out the window. Despite the bumpy ride, I even fell asleep on Sam’s shoulder for 20 minutes or so, during what Sam said was actually the bumpiest part of the entire trip. It was a perfect power nap, and by the time I woke up, we were already driving in Da Lat city, past the flower farms that the town is known for.

a favorite photo I snapped during the drive, a boy walking on piles of bricks

The city is amazing, a blend of European charm, with its French villas, winding streets, and even a couple cathedrals, and Asian flare, with its bonsai trees, Vietnamese aesthetic and school children wearing red sashes and high school girls in white ao dai. Absolutely lovely, and the weather is fabulous! We checked into our hotel, Dreams, which has two locations on the same street and is run by very maternal woman named Ms. Dung (pronounced “yung”) who speaks great English and treats all her guests like family. In fact, there’s a family style breakfast every morning, with eggs to order, fresh coffee, home-made passionfruit juice, piles of fruit, fresh bread, cheese, Da Lat strawberry preserves and even crunchy peanut butter. And all this is included in the price! Our room, which itself was very nice, even had a Jacuzzi tub. All of this for 20 dollars a night.

After a delicious lunch at one of two veg restaurant conveniently located down the street from the hotel (another plus), we started our sight seeing. A pagoda nearby to start, followed by a pretty epic journey to a still-active convent where all the nuns reportedly spoke French. It took us a while, but we found it eventually—and it was well worth the time and effort. The place was beautiful, with a combination of French and Vietnamese influences, a surprisingly pleasant pink color and flowers everywhere on the well-groomed premises. As we arrived, it started raining heavily, so we sat on a bench near the courtyard, which was also full of flowers, and watched the rain. I felt like I was in Europe!

buying a rosary from a sweet old nun

evening in Da Lat, where hot soymilk is popular and delicious!

We poked around for a bit before I stopped in a little room where an old Vietnamese nun, in her 60s or 70s, was overseeing a small cabinet of pins, postcards and rosaries to sell. As predicted, she spoke French, and as I was looking at the rosaries to buy (I kind of collect them, strangely enough since I’m not religious), I asked her in my increasingly broken French if she had lived at the convent her whole life. She explained that, no, she had come only 30 or so years ago and had joined the convent because she loved to serve the poor. She was so sweet and gentle. I wanted to talk to her more, but I’m realizing how quickly I’m losing my French. It’s all just coming out in Spanish! I paid the woman for the rosary, necklace, pin and card (all together, less than 2 dollars), and then we went to buy some of the rumored ginger candy that the nuns make…
After exploring more, it was time for dinner, but all the electricity was out in our area of the city. We eventually wandered into to one of several restaurants called Peace Café, and we were seated at a table lit by two red candled in empty 333 beer cans. A man, wearing the jacket of the local motorbike tour guides who always approach tourists, came up to his. We quickly explained that we had already talked to someone about a tour (which was true, and we had even planned to take a motorbike tour of the countryside the next day), but the man responded that he just wanted to talk, not sell us a tour. I felt like an ass. We invited him to sit down, but I was even reluctant to do that as I was looking forward to a quiet dinner conversation with Sam, and not an effortful conversation with a stranger. But by the end of dinner, I felt like an ass for that sentiment, too. We ended up having one of the best conversations I’ve had since coming to Vietnam, as Thai, our new friend, waxed philosophic about the meaning of life and how different cultures need to share with each other because “people everywhere not the same each other, except for circle of life”. Sam and I wished we could take the motorbike tour with him, but we’d already committed to other people.

leaving our room at 6am for our day-tour of the countryside around Da Lat

The next morning, though, different drivers showed up at our hotel. One was the father of the young driver we’d met and committed to the day before, and the second was a friend of the father. We agreed to go anyway, feeling a little disappointed. But I think we ended up with a better deal than we had originally. The men, who work with a group called Easy Rider, had been giving tours of the area around Da Lat, and in fact the entire country, for well over 20 years combined. We spent an incredible day visiting pagodas, coffee plantations, silk warm farms and a traditional silk factory (where I ate a boiled silk worm—eek!) flower farms, mushroom farms, waterfalls. At one point, early in the day, the men stopped their bikes (Sam and I were each on one), and told us to get off the bikes. One driver, Peter (he’s Catholic), said pointed to a very large hill/small mountain beside us. “Go up to the top, and then turn left and come back down so that you make a treetangle. We’ll meet you.”. And they drove away. Sam and I looked at each other, a little confused—there was nothing to do but climb to the top, turn left and make a treetangle. So we climbed. And climbed. At one point I just stopped and laughed our situation, hiking up this seemingly 90 degree hillside, in the middle of Vietnam, with no other instruction than to “turn left” at the top.

But when we got to the top, all the climbing proved well worth it. Standing on this mountain, with hardly any sound but the wind, looking out over the mountains and valleys and houses and farms and all the people, who we couldn’t see, living their lives as best they could….Everything seemed in balance. Sometimes I have these moments where I’m so happy, and at peace, and satisfied, and everything seems to make so much sense that I feel like I could just melt into my surroundings, morph into whatever grass or trees or stones or water or buildings are around and become part of it all. Not die, just…melt. All the atoms of my body would just rearrange and merge with the atoms of everything around me. And on top of that mountain, in the cool silence, I had one of those moments.

(I told my friend Jess about these “moments” once, and she said that if I turned into a palm tree she would keep me in her room and water me every day. What a friend ☺ )

We lingered on the mountain for a while before “turning left” and making a “treetangle” to walk back down the mountain, return to our motorbikes and continue our adventure….
Sam, throughout the day’s adventure, kept telling me that this was the most incredible thing he had ever done. He was a rather easy sell, then, when Peter started talking about the possibility of us ditching our bus home and taking a three-day trip by motorcycle into the central highlands and then back down to Nha Trang. I wasn’t fond of the idea at first. It was expensive and time-consuming. But the more Peter talked about it—what we would see and do and eat—the more interested I became. And if Sam is good at nothing else, he’s exceptionally good at encouraging me to take once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. (He was the one that got me to eat the silk worm, in fact.) He reminded me that I would most likely never again have the chance to take a three-day motorcycle trip with him through the mountains and minority villages of Viet Nam. The outcome of the story is probably pretty clear: I agreed to the trip. The day tour with Peter and Tam (the other driver) had been absolutely fantastic—majestic waterfalls, coffee trees, a snack of silk worms and a delicious lunch (sans insects). I had some money put aside for travel and, as Sam had said, I would never have this opportunity again, to take such a trip with him.

And, as with the passports, Sam was exactly right about the trip. It was the journey of a lifetime. (At least so far!) This post is exceedingly long already, so I’ll save the details of our epic adventure for the next post…

elephant falls

at a flower farm

Back in Nha Trang, though, we had a few more days together. The weather wasn’t great most of the time, so we spent a lot of time just relaxing and talking and catching up, going to the market, eating delicious food. We even rescued a kitten. We found him screaming under some souvenir stands near the Po Nagar towers, and we brought him back to my building where we left him outside with some fish and rice before going to get dinner for ourselves. It was hard to just to leave him out in the “wild”—he was pretty tiny, and I was already pretty attached, but I just can’t have a cat right now as much as I love them. When we came back from dinner, it was raining and I wanted to check to see if the kitten was still in the garden. When I went to see, I could hear it meowing, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. I stayed out in the rain for 20 minutes or so looking for the kitten. Eventually, with the help of an onlooker, I found the cat perched at the top of a jasmine tree, stuck, and soaking wet. The kitten thus secured itself a dry home for the night as there was no way I could leave it out in the rains of monsoon season. I brought it in, washed it off with warm water, dried it, played with it, and eventually got it to go to sleep. I put it in the bathroom for the night, but I slept lightly as I seemed to be constantly listening to see if the kitten was crying. I felt like I had a baby or something, hoping to god it would sleep through the night. Around 6:15 am, though, the cat woke up and started screaming again. I went out to buy it some tune and frantically started texting anyone in my phonebook who I thought might want a cat. Luckily, an English teacher agreed to take it—everyone else said they didn’t like cats. She said she’d come get it at 11:30. Around 10:30, though, the kitten fell asleep in my lap, and since it was sleeping I decided I should sleep too. As I said, it was like I had a kid! So the three of us took a nap. But we were startled awake by the arrival of the English teacher, who took the cat away in what seemed like a very sudden, swift retrieval. After the cat was gone, Sam and I really missed it. I’m just happy it has a dry, safe home, though.

Sam and I even had one day of sunshine, which we spent lounging on the beach at the Louisiane Brewhouse. It was his last day here and was a perfect way to spend it.

Of course, I was a big teary mess when he left (much like I was when he arrived, in fact). But I snapped back into my routine pretty quickly. His being here, though, made me miss things more than I had missed them. I’m still sorting through all the effects of his visit…

More news about my 3-day motorbike adventure, and pictures, coming soon. I’m busier than ever—more classes, more social activities, and I’ve just agreed to help a student who’s getting his PhD in Tromso edit his thesis—and the internet has been poor lately (in addition to the fact that we’ve been without electricity and running water for 3 days this week) but I’m determined to document all of this! I've had to start a new picasa account for my pictures, because I'm out of space on the other one. New photos can be found at picasaweb.google.com/malloryimler2 . It's a work in progress, though.

And, last but definitely not least, OBAMA!!!!!!!!!!!!! Another instance in the past two weeks when I was a big teary mess (out of joy, of course!). More on that soon, too. ☺

Currently listening: Missiles, by The Dears

Out of Office

2008-10-30T20:56:00.002+07:00

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. :)

My lucky day

2008-10-28T15:06:00.002+07:00

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.

English Club, fruit picking and preparations

2008-10-27T22:40:00.005+07:00

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

Reproduction

2008-10-25T21:59:00.003+07:00

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:

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.

Changing of the seasons

2008-10-24T23:16:00.003+07:00

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.

Not what I want to read.

2008-10-21T00:36:00.004+07:00

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.

Vietnamese Women's Day, take two

2008-10-20T20:51:00.015+07:00

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.

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 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!)

Women's Day, anniversary, and further proof that this world is quite small.

2008-10-18T11:09:00.006+07:00

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:

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 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

Hotel? Check.

2008-10-16T19:58:00.016+07:00

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:

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

New Friends and a New 'Do

2008-10-12T16:34:00.014+07:00

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

The Pilgrimage

2008-10-10T09:12:00.004+07:00

A lovely passage from The Pilgrimage, by Paulo Coelho....

" 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....

Painfully honest

2008-10-08T21:36:00.003+07:00

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.

Girls Night Out and a new scarf

2008-10-07T19:41:00.009+07:00

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....

For the holidays, you can't be home sweet home

2008-10-06T19:20:00.005+07:00

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.

Assimilation and other new things

2008-10-05T22:02:00.003+07:00

Lately I've found myself participating in a number of typical, if at times risky, Vietnamese behaviors: drinking tap water (the night after the snake alcohol, when I was out of bottled water); drinking sketchy home-made rice alochol, in the first place; swimming in fresh water (apparently you can catch a variety of parasites in fresh water); biking the wrong way down one-way streets or down the wrong side of the road; texting while biking; forgetting my bike helmet; waking up at 6am every day and napping at noon; developing a morning dependency on sticky rice and fresh soy milk; using the communal water cups at restaurants. I'm feeling a bit more assimilated these days. Well, as assimilated as an American girl can feel after two months in Viet Nam--it's a nice feeling nonetheless. The rhythm of life here has yet to take up residence in me, but I'm starting to catch a beat here and there.

At the same time, I've discarded the taboo against shorts. After two months of sweating in pants and skirts, I broke down and finally wore a pair of shorts out of my room. The Vietnamese girls might be able to tolerate scarves, hats, socks, and gloves up to their armpits, but that's just not how I choose to deal with the heat. I imagine some people chatting as I walked by, white legs switching back and forth, and I imagine someone saying "There goes that foreign teacher in her trashy shorts!", and another responds "Yes, those Americans...." The pretend dialogue that I give to onlookers amuses me--it's become a common source of internal entertainment.

I've also acquired a few new things that I'm quite excited about. Lately I've been going out of my way to avoid buy things--I just want simplicity. I've been vacillating for weeks about buying a hot water maker, for example, usually coming to the conclusion that even this simple appliance will just complicate my life and take up space. The main qualifying question for a purchase is this: Will this greatly improve the quality of my life? I also consider whether or not the purchase will enhance my experience here in some way. And, of course, art and travel expenses have their own criteria.... Anyway, my biggest purchase was a jade bracelet, very typical here--remember the "vietnamese bracelet torture" story from an earlier blog? I decided to give it another go, this time with a bigger bracelet. My friend Ha, who I teach with, called me randomly on Saturday evening and offered to take me to get one. I was especially appreciative, as I was kind of dragging that night and needed the company and the outting. She took me on her motorbike--it helped to ride a motorbike, wind in my hair, blah blah :) --to a vendor she knows in a big market in the city. I chose my jade bracelet, and paid 200,000 dong for it. It was quite an expensive purchase for me, as I'm trying to live on about $6 USD, or about 100,000 dong, a day. I think of everything lately in terms of that budget, so the bracelet cost me about 2 days worth of living expenses. I'm justifying the purchase by reminding myself that a) it's a very typical Vietnamese thing and thus enhances my "authentic" experience here, and b) it's a good jade bracelet that should last forever (literally), and, furthermore, should remain quite some time on my wrist as getting off will be painful! Anyway I'm quite pleased with the purchase--I was swimming in the sea today and color of the jade in the clear, green water was so lovely and satisfying...

the woman (who was wearing one of the bracelets herself!) trying to force the thing over my hand

finally, success!

I also bought a new drinking glass today. I only had one, a small plastic one, and I really missed pouring myself a tall glass of water in a sturdy, solid glass. The purchase met my "must improve quality of life" criteria, and it was only 13,000 dong--a reasonable investment, I thought, as I'm going to be here for at least a year. The glass has clean lines and it feels very civilized to me to have this one nice drinking glass. It's funny to me to think that three months ago I had a whole cabinet full of drinking glasses, even when I lived alone, and now I contemplate for days before I buy a single glass for less than a dollar. I'm quite enjoying the drastic decrease in my consumption habits.

A new, heavy-duty poncho was my final purchase. Even beyond the "improving my life" classification, this poncho falls into the "absolutely necessary" category. I think monsoon season is nearly upon us; every afternoon the skies have been darkening and grumbling, as if forewarning me...

My other two new items were inherited from Inaki upon his return to Norway: a novel, Girl Meets Boy, by Ali Smith (which he gave me to because he didn't like). I'm always excited to get a new book here, as reading materials are a bit limited for me and I don't love reading books online. (As a side note, I also bought The Pilgrimage, by Paulo Coelho, from a street vendor recently. It's about Coelho's experience walking the Camino de Santiago, the pilgrimage in Spain which will probably be my next adventure. I also learned that Inaki's father is affiliated with overseeing part of the pilgrimage!)

A small Norwegian coin, worth one krone, was the second half of my inheritance from my new friend. I loved the coin--it has a beautiful bird on one side--so he let me have it. I've since turned it into a necklace, as the coin has a hole in the center. It was perfect timing, really. The chain of my locket just broke and I was hoping to come across a new, simple necklace.

Even with my new possessions, my life seems to be drifting back to normal, slowing down like a swing after a child leaves it in mid-motion, losing its fervent momentum. English club, waterfalls, alcohol, university ceremonies and meetings, lessons, Katherine's birthday, Inaki's farewell dinner--the past two weeks have been a whirlwind of activity and very little sleep. But, yes, it seems that I'm back on the way to normal. And recuperation, to some degree: last night I fell asleep at 10pm (while watching Volver) and slept until 8:20 this morning. And then almost fell asleep while I was reading on the beach this afternoon. I'm missing some of the things that filled up my time recently, but I have a list of other things to occupy myself with: lots of Vietnamese studying, starting a Movie Night at the university, finding some volunteer work, spending time with some new female Vietnamese friends including Miss Ha (I only had male friends until recently!), attempting to improve my French and maintain my Spanish (the other day I realized I couldn't remember the word for "cesspool), and trying to do some research on reproductive rights. If I can do nothing else well in this world, I can keep myself busy--and I'm setting myself to it.

Currently listening: Joanna Newsom, "The Milk-Eyed Mender"

Set your DVRs!

2008-10-02T13:33:00.003+07:00

Sam will be on Conan tonight!

He's also now in stores everywhere, including the Virgin Megastore in New York. That's him holding the umbrella :) And I guess the deluxe edition beside the normal one? I'm not sure, since the last time I saw the album it was an industry promo copy only...how time flies!

Wired

2008-10-01T13:37:00.008+07:00

After exactly one month of spotty wireless internet, I'm happy to announce that I now have a fully-wired internet connection that will (hopefully) be more reliable. The downside of the arrangement is that there's a new hole over my door, and an ugly cable lying tangled across my floor. Further proof that everything is give-and-take. At least now I'll be able to work at my desk--I was having to sit in the far corner of my bed, because it was the only place I got a decent wifi signal!

I'm also glad to report that everything is still marvelous for me. Absolutely wonderful, as always. I'm happier now than I have been in my entire life. Maybe because I live more simply? Have less stuff? Or maybe because I am choosing to be happier, or because I have somewhat of a clean slate here in Vietnam? It's hard to say, I guess, other than to acknowledge that the true cause of my happiness is probably a combination of these and other factors. The most important thing is that I soak up this happiness, allow it expand exponentially, nurture it and help it grow, make it a permanent fixture of myself, like my eyes or hair. Because I don't want to lose it--and that's what scares me most about leaving this place. No, it's what scares me about going back to my old life and old patterns....

But enough waxing philosophic. Back to the gritty details of my life! It's Wednesday here, and today is Katherine's birthday! We're going out to dinner with Steve, Inaki, Maryanne and another volunteer, and then we're all going to the beach with some friends in our building. Vegetarian food, fruit, beach, stars, friends--should be a lovely evening.

Yesterday (Tuesday) was the release of Sam's album with Ben Folds, WAY TO NORMAL. Exciting day for him, and I was a bit sad to miss all the action in NYC, but that's his adventure, and I have mine. The album is doing well, I think. It's currently at number 6 on iTunes. (Although that ranking isn't exactly accurante because there are two versions of the album; one is at 6 and the other is at 18, so the combined ranking would be a bit higher I imagine.)

Further in the past, this weekend was amazing, even if a little to heavy on the alcohol. Friday evening found me out for drinks with Inaki and Katherine, and I made my debut appearance at some of the city's various bars. It felt strange to me, to be around so many westerners, hardly a Vietnamese in sight, music blasting, spending money on alcohol. That hasn't been my life for a while, and returning to it felt like having deja vu from an old dream or something.

Of course, it was still a fun night though. I drank a little too much, stayed up until 2 or so, and then I had to be in a van at 6:30 am to go to Yang Bay with some masters students in my building. Yang Bay is rural park about 40 km from the city, with beautiful waterfalls surround by jungles and mountains. Not surprisingly, the place was beautiful. After hiking off the remains of my hangover in the Vietnamese jungle (we hiked aimlessly for a couple of hours!), I went swimming in the pool at the base of one of the waterfalls. It started raining after a bit, which made the experience even more magical. There I was, sitting in a waterfall, in the rain, in a jungle in Vietnam, surrounded by mountains..... Again, how is this my life? (More pictures at my picasa!)

lounging on a sandbar

climbing up to a waterfall

falling in the strong current

swimming in the waterfall

Recently recovered from Friday evening's activities, I decided that a little more alchohol couldn't hurt. I shared in the beer that everyone was drinking while swimming at the waterfall in the rain. Harmless enough, I guess, especially since I hate beer and only finished half. But then our friend Mr. Tum brought out the home-made snake wine, which, it turns out, I don't hate at all. A few hours and god knows how many shots later, I was speaking Spanish and chiding my friend Habib about why he didn't have a girlfriend since he was such a handsome guy. Then I conked out in the van. Then I fell asleep for a few hours on the bathroom floor of Inaki's hotel room. Not one of my shining moments in life, but I'm putting some of the blame on peer pressure :) And besides--it was a damn good day, no one died, and I was sober by 6:00am the next morning for English Club.

so begin the shots of snake wine

at the house of a friend's sister for dinneractually, it was this guy's sister. and he was nice enough to let me pass out on his shoulder on the way home.

Oh, English Club. Given the total (but tame) debauchery of the rest of my weekend, I'm quite proud of myself for getting up at 6am Sunday morning for English Club. (Not that I had a choice--technically I'm running the whole thing). But here are a couple images for you, my dear readers: Me, with a headache, at 8am on a Sunday morning, wearing a yellow ribbon tied around my head, singing Yankee Doodle in front of 150 Vietnamese students. Me, three hours later, still wearing said ribbon, doing the electric slide in front of said students outside of G6 classroom building. If I had any unhealthy pride before this event, it's gone now. The singing and dancing were bad enough, but did they have to tie that damn yellow ribbon around my head? They said it was to distinguish me as an "English Club Organizer". But I don't there was any risk of mistaking my role--I was the only white girl holding a microphone, singing Yankee Doodle, doing the electric slide, and/or running around frantically trying to make sure the event went smoothly. I think my role was pretty clear without the ribbon!

Not even these slightly humiliating moments can get me down, though. Life is better than ever for me. I've been getting up early, around 6 or so everyday, and one more I even woke up for the sunrise. Absolutely breathtaking. And I'm having so many ideas of things I want to research--but again there's the problem of me having no idea how to do original research in a country where I don't speak the language, don't have a good interpreter, and dont have access to many of my prefereds subject which are considered taboo here--sexuality, reproductive rights, domestic violence. I'm even having some ideas for screenplays. Unfortunately not many ideas for books or poetry--but maybe those will come in time.

Meanwhile, I have go with Tu and Duan to pick out a birthday cake for Katherine! The festivities begin....

It's Electric!

2008-09-26T10:53:00.003+07:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

2008-09-25T00:09:00.002+07:00

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

http://vietnam.usembassy.gov/

Mark your calendars!

2008-09-24T15:25:00.002+07:00

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

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

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

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

How far is that from Smallville?

2008-09-23T12:49:00.009+07:00

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

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

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

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

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

Duan in his uniform

Duan kicking butt!

Duan getting pointers from his coach in between rounds

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

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

all fun and games...

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

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

victory in escaping, failure in putting on the bracelet

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scratch that. No Hue, after all.

2008-09-19T10:13:00.002+07:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Weekend in Hue

2008-09-18T17:38:00.002+07:00

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

There's a bird nest on my moquito net!

2008-09-17T22:10:00.008+07:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Normal People Do It Too

2008-09-11T20:32:00.002+07:00

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

You Don't Know Me

2008-09-11T10:55:00.004+07:00

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

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

2008-09-10T21:41:00.008+07:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

on the main street in in the city

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

inside Au Lac vegetarian restaurant

a feast for two!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Stopping Power of Water

2008-09-08T21:24:00.008+07:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Currently listening: Nick Drake, Pink Moon

To market, to market

2008-09-07T20:21:00.010+07:00

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

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

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

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

at the market.....

buying veggies (so inexpensive here!!!!)

and buying fresh tofu...

and fresh vermicelli...

finishing up by buying fruit...

...and finally back at home!

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

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

ingredients

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

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

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

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

Golden Girl Magically Becomes RED Girl!

2008-09-06T21:54:00.005+07:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One absentee ballot, please.

2008-09-04T21:54:00.004+07:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Golden Girl and the Urban Slums

2008-09-03T21:27:00.009+07:00

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

Have I mentioned yet that I love this place?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Introducing Sarah Palin

2008-09-02T17:08:00.008+07:00

I've been shocked and confused by Sarah Palin's recent appointment as McCain's running mate, but I continue to read about it. It's like watching a train wreck: I want to stop looking, but I just can't turn away.

I know this isn't directly related to my time in Viet Nam, but I'm reading about all of this everyday and it's on my mind a lot....so that counts, right?

Really, though. What's McCain doing?! He's not my favorite person in the world, but I thought he would at least be a little better with this decision making process.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/09/02/us/politics/02vetting.html?hp

**Note: I removed the "picture" (yes, I know it was photoshopped) of Palin for several reasons. First, it didn't correspond with the type of "blog" I want to run here. Secondly, after poking around on the Perez Hilton site--I had never read anything from his blog--I realized how cruel and base his commentaries are. And I don't want to support that at all.

Finally, Nha Trang.

2008-09-01T21:31:00.023+07:00

I'm so behind on posting on here that I hardly know where to start. For now, I'll start at the end: I'm safely in Nha Trang, and I love it. Beaches, palm trees, mountains. I just arrived lastnight and I already feel at home.

But let me go back a bit, since it's been a week since I last wrote. The weekend in Dien Bien Phu was....life changing. Cliche, I know. We visited a minority boarding school, an event that ultimately brought me to tears as I reluctantly climbed back into the van to leave as hundreds of children smiled and waved goodbye to us. The children at the school come from multiple ethnic minorities. Most of them leave their families behind (some 100 km away) in order to come to school, and most don't speak Vietnamese when they arrive. They live in overcrowded "dorms", with 10-15 in a room. And they are so happy and generous and friendly. They sang for us when we arrived, both Vietnamese songs and songs in minority languages. A couple of the teachers sang, too. After all of that singing in our honor, we were informed that it was now our turn to sing. This request, I've learned, is common here. I was sick that weekend--and I'm a terrible singer anyway--so I let a few other Fulbrighters take the fall. Kevin got up and sang "Row Row Row Your Boat", and we all joined in. David and Keith sang "Take Me Out to the Ball Game", Andrew sang an Irish drinking song, and Meredith did an impressive rendition of "Amazing Grace".

We visited a couple classrooms, and each time we were honored with yet another song. In the first class room, a young boy asked to sing an ethnic song for us. He walked to the front of the classroom and issued one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard. I started crying but somehow managed to keep it together for the most part, which was a good thing since we then stood up and sang "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" for the class. (It's all we could throw together in about 30 seconds!)

I wanted to stay at that school for the rest of the year. It was small, in the middle of rice paddies, and had few resources, but it was making such a big difference in the lives of these children. And Fulbright had been working for months to get approval for us to go.

After visiting the school, we went to a Thai minority village. We got to see two private homes, of the house-on-stilts variety. The first belonged to a poorer family, and there were ducks and chickens and water buffalo wandering around under the house. The second house belonged to a wealthy family (by Vietnamese standards), and even had a computer. The wife of the house insisted that we all sit down (on tiny woven stools) and take shots of rice alcohol (like vodka) with her and the Party Chairman of the village, who had stopped in. She poured us all little shots, and put two empty glasses in the middle. We were told to pour a few drops of our shots into the empty glasses for the ancestors and spirits. I was glad to do so, since even smelling the alcohol made my eyes burn. But I drank it. Then, however, I was shocked to learn that I was expected to take another shot--it's tradition, apparently, to take two shots because we all have two feet. I'm glad that traditions doesn't revolve around the number of fingers, because two shots almost killed me. The woman wanted us to do more, but we all politely declined. Dr. Thao couldn't carry us all out of that house-on-stilts.

Later, at dinner at the hotel, the hotel owner treated us all to yet another round of shots. Then she proceeded to challenge us individually to take more shots. All of this was after she'd been doing numerous shots at her own family's dinner table. One thing is for sure, at least: The women in Dien Bien Phu could drink most American men under the table.

On Sunday we visited A1 Hill, where the French were defeated in the decisive battle. Some of the trenches are even still there, and some bunkers, as well. And the view from the hill is unbelievably gorgeous. That morning was misty and rainy, draping the surrounding mountains in a thin veil of fog. It was much cooler in Dien Bien Phu, as well, which was a relief after the heat of Ha Noi.

Back in Ha Noi for our last week of orientation, we were all very busy. We each had to micro-teach a mock lesson, which took quite a bit of preparation. We also had to (collectively) do a big presentation at the Embassy about life at American universities. Also lots of preparation. And we had the reception at the Ambassador's house, which didn't require too much prep but was intimidating to think about. Ultimately, though, it proved to be an extremely calm, relaxing evening, drinking wine and chatting about the expat life with Americans in the foreign service or Fulbright program. And the Ambassador (who we'd met the first day of orientation) is amazing. He's this jolly man who's unexpectedly laid back and cool. When I walked into his house (which, by the way, is a 19th century French villa and as beautiful as it sounds), I was standing in the foyer, not sure where to go after he greeted me. He said "Go on in! Don't just stand there. Everyone just stands there and clogs up the whole damn thing."

Even with our crammed schedules, the last week in Hanoi was nearly perfect. The weather was the best it had been all month. A bit cooler (read: 95 degrees), especially at night, and there was even a mild breeze at times. One night, David, Keith, Jahmila, Meghan and I even ate outside on the top of a boat on Truc Bac lake--the air was perfect, cool, and breezy, and it was one of the best nights of my life. Another "I cant believe this is really my life" moment.

Then there was Friday night, with moments where I wondered "I can't believe I'm doing this." I let myself be talked into going to the infamous snake village outside of Hanoi. I'm trying to step out of my comfort zone, I guess. At the snake village, the typical routine is this: You pick out a snake. It's killed in front of you. It's heart, still beating, in put on a place on the table. It's blood is drained and mixed with rice alcohol, as is some other bodily fluid (helps with digestion and kind of green--bile I guess?). Someone drops the heart into their shot of blood-and-liquor, and everyone throws back the concoction. Yes, that means one person eats the still-beating heart. Then everyone does the shot of bile and rice liquor. Then all parts of the snake, cooked in a variety of ways, are served to you. Did I mention I'm trying to step out of my comfort zone? Did I mention that I haven't eaten meat in about 12 years? For better or worse, I'll now have to add "except for that one night at the snake village" to any future explanation of my vegetarianism. I went to the snake village with Becca, Meredith, Jenette, Kevin, and Becca's Vietnamese friend Hue. They brought out a snake. We approved their selection. They slit it open, pulled out the heart, put it on our table (yes, still beating), served us up shots of blood and bile mixed with rice alcohol. Becca dropped the tiny heart into her shot-o-blood, we counted to three, and we all drank up. Yes, I drank snake blood. Then I drank snake bile. Or something. Still not sure. THEN I ate snake soup, followed by seasoned, ground snake bones, followed by fried snake skin (apparently it tastes like pork rinds but I wouldn't know since I've never had a pork rind), followed by stirfried snake meat and veggies, followed by snake spring rolls, followed by more snake soup. In the words of my little sister, OMG. And I couldn't agree more. I didn't eat much of any of the above dishes--although the spring rolls were pretty good. Just a couple bites of everything. Just to say I did it. And to honor the spirit of the snake who died so we could have a meal and tell the tale. They really do use every part of the snake, though, which makes me feel a bit better. Even its poor little head gets thrown into a bottle of rice alcohol. Speaking of, we were also brought three bottles of rice alcohol--one with nothing in it (although it probably came from a larger jar with snakes in it), one with bees in it, and one with an unidentifiable snake or lizard of some sort. And I did (small) shots of all of them. Again, OMG.

The restaurant was actually really nice. Beautiful, with intricate wood working, a canopy of flowering trees and vines. And it was pretty expensive. But with all the food we got, and the free bottled water and free alcohol included in the price, PLUS splitting it six ways, it was only about 6 dollars a piece. I just hope no one reading has suddenly started to hate me :)

On Saturday Dr. Thao had us all over to his flat for brunch. I was looking forward to a "normal" meal after my adventure in snake village. We met first at a cafe near his house before going to eat. His wife had prepared what was possibly the best meal I've had in Vietnam. Fresh cucumbers, two types of vegetarian dumplings that are traditional in Hue (where he and his wife are from), and an amazing stew/soup of potatoes, onions, baby corn (and some meat balls that I didn't eat of course). There was fresh french bread and rice cracker stuff (we dont have it in the states) that she had made by hand. She served bananas for dessert. I was more full after that meal than I've been at any time since I got here!

Saturday night was the last night with the Fulbright group and some other friends we made. Saying goodbye to everyone was both sad and exciting. I'll see all the Fulbrights again--at least at the mid-year meeting in December and at the final meeting before we leave--but I'm not sure when or if I will see some other new friends again. There is a chance I might not see Hiep, the son of the hotel owners and a dear friend and tour guide to us, every again, sadly. As a parting gift, we got Hiep several books to read as he's learning English: The Giver, it's companion book, Holes, and The Outsiders. He seemed to love them. And Thuy--dear Thuy!--our enchanting Vietnamese teacher who became a sister to all of us...it was especially hard to say goodbye to her. She will always hold a special place in my heart, and I dont think I will ever meet anyone else like her. She has done so much for us in our month here. To thank her, we got her flowers on our last day of class. And on Saturday we took her out to dinner (Hiep too) and gave her a gift certificate to really nice spa in Ha Noi. We all pitched in, so it was a pretty substantial amount. She was so touched and happy, and said it was the best gift she had ever received. Dinner that night was great, too. The place we wanted to go to was closed down or something, and we ended up finding this great place called the Green Mango. It was beautiful, pretty western, expensive by Vietnamese standards but still cheap for us, and even had rose petals scattered all over the floor, stairs, bathrooms. And the glasses each had a fresh flower on them! My meal was delicious--real gnocchi with real pesto. And with a drink, it was still about $6 USD.

On my last morning in Ha Noi, I got up early, finished packing, showered, and went for one last bowl of pho at my favorite pho place in all of Hanoi. Actually, it was the same place where I had my very first meal in Vietnam, and even without nostalgic bias, it really is the best pho I've had here. And the cheapest, at 5,000 VND, or about 30 cents. The guy there is uber friendly, speaks some English, the meal is served hot and fast and giant fans keep you (moderately) cool....Jahmila, David, Becca, and Hiep joined me on Sunday morning. It was a meal I won't forget. Leaving Hanoi after a month there felt like leaving Spain after a semester...

Jahmila and I shared a taxi to the airport since our flights were around the same time. On my way to the airport, it struck me that some things feels the same no matter where you are in the world: gathering your things, shoving them into a taxi, and traveling to the airport, or away from it, alone, and into a new place you've never seen . It's the same rush of excitement, the same worry that you've forgotten something, the same acceptance of the unknown and whatever wonders or disasters it could bring. Or sitting at an airport boarding gate, alone, either coming or going, finding or leaving, looking forward or backward, going back to work or to a needed respite, greeting a lover or saying goodbye... All the same. Paris, Madrid, Berlin, La Spezia, Florence, Pisa, London, Berlin, NYC, Boulder, Seattle, a random airport somewhere in Kansas or a private one in the San Juan Islands, and now here in Vietnam. Everywhere the same. The feeling has become a comfortable one, consistent despite time or geography, an old friend that joins me at such pivotal and dynamic times.....

At the check in desk at the airport, I had too much luggage (Vietnamese flight restrictions are much different), but I haggled with the airport clerk to only make me pay overage for about half of the excess weight. (Dr. Thao suggested that tactic.)Despite a small flight delay of half an hour, the transit from Ha Noi to Nha Trang was seemless. Oh--they did take my carry on (because it was "too big"--but it clearly would have fit) and valeted it for the flight. After I got out my computer and valuables, I forgot to zip it back and everything fell out on the tarmac (sp?) when I picked it up. Two Vietnamese girls helped me through everything back in, though. Normally--by which I mean, back in the real world in the US--I would have been really frustrated. But these days, here, nothing seems to frustrate me. Maybe it's because I have different standards and expectations when I'm traveling, especially in a developing country. Maybe I just expect more minor complications, discomforts, inconveniences. But I dont really feel uncomfortable or inconvenienced, or that anything is too complicated. I think something inside me is just shifting. I'm calmer. It's true that I have fewer worries here, but that's not the only thing that's different. And I like it.

in the air

Now, finally to Nha Trang: I arrived in Nha Trang late and unsure if anyone would be at the airport to pick me up. I was told someone would be there, but since I was late, I wasn't sure if the plan would still hold up. This is where my no worrying helps: if no one was there, I would just find a cab, take it to the university, and figure it all out from there. Worst case scenario, I call Dr. Thao for help, and/or stay in a hotel for the night. No big deal. But, there were two people waiting with a sign that said "Mallory Powell - Fulbright". They were both English teachers from the school. They helped me with my bags and walked me to a big van full, to my surprise, with five Taiwanese professors. Apparently they were doing some conference here. I climbed in the van and rode into town, in awe of the beauty of Nha Trang, and silently chuckling to myself about my current situation: There I was, in a van, with three Vietnamese people, five friendly Taiwanese men, lots of languages in the air (Chinese, English, Vietnamese, and even French once the Vietnamese girl learned that I spoke French too), driving along mountains and beaches in Nha Trang, Vietnam. One more time: How is this my life????

off the plane at Cam Ranh Airport in Nha Trang

Driving into the city

Oanh, the friendly Vietnamese English teacher (and French speaker) who had picked me up at the airport, showed me to my room when we arrived at the university. The building is really beautiful on the outside and seems pretty new. I'm on the second floor, right beside two other American volunteer teachers. Katherine, who's 23, and Steven, who's 43. They arrived two weeks ago, and they're both vegetarians actually. (Well, Steven just doesn't eat mammals.) Katherine has been super helpful--taking me to the market to get supplies for my room, inviting me to dinner with her and her new friends, and (most importantly) telling me how to get to the beach. I can walk to the beach from my room. Yep, walk. I can even see the ocean from campus, which is a hill overlooking the sea.... Steven seems really nice, also, but I haven't spent much time with him.

After Oanh left me alone in my room, I felt a brief rush of sadness. I missed my room in Hanoi. I missed having my friends so close. I missed knowing where to buy water or get something to eat. I missed feeling at home. I guess I just felt....lonely. It's not a feeling I'm used to. Even when I'm alone, I hardly ever feel lonely. And it was the first time since coming to Viet Nam that I felt it. Also, my room, which is really very nice, was a little dirty (different standards of cleanliness) and the AC wasn't working. I decided to embrace the feeling of sadness, own it, let it inhabit me for a bit. I'm on the other side of the world, alone, in a new city, where I know no one and nothing, my fridge has some mold in it and the my ac isnt' working: It's ok if I feel lonely for a little bit! But I wouldn't let it stop me. I started cleaning. I found a broom and dustpan in the hallway, a rag in the closet, and went to it. Eventually I noticed that Katherine was home and went and introduced myself. When I asked her where I could get food--it was 6 and I hadnt' eaten since 11--she offered to take me a street place nearby where she can always find some vegetarian food. I got some food to go, and for 8000 vnd (50 cents), walked away with soup, rice, and veggies.

my building

Back in my room, someone came to fix my AC, which was a huge relief. I'll admit that I'm a total spoiled american about AC. I finished my dinner, washed it down with some water I bought across the street, and decided that I just had to rearrange my room. There are two beds in here, a desk, a small fridge, two beachy-looking chairs and a small table. The set up looked like a poorly designed hotel room, and it left me very little space to walk. After an hour and some sweating, I had everything perfect. The room just felt better. I put up my mosquito net--partly just for the novelty of it--and found myself quite satisfied with life.

closet, just inside the door

bathroom

Before rearranging

after first phase of rearranging

after second phase, and after waking up Monday morning

Then Katherine came by, and we talked for an hour or so. And Sam called my cell phone. The day was suddenly wonderful--a new room that I loved (after some elbow grease), a new friend, a call from Sam. Ultimately I fell asleep, exhausted and looking forward to a day of exploring.

I discovered, though, that the beds here are pretty uncomfortable, and i didn't sleep too well. Nevertheless, this morning I was up by 9 -- continuing the transition to somewhat more of a morning person -- and went to the market with Katherine and a Vietnamese student she's befriended. We were then joined by another guy, a friend of the student. They helped me haggle at the market while I was buying some basics for my room--bowls, knife, scissors, cutting board, rags, cups, baskets, hangers (all for about $10)--and insisted on carrying everything. Even the fruit that Katherine and I bought on the way home. Further proof that Vietnamese people are possibly the nicest on the planet.

walking to the market

I was home from the market by 11:30, and after a quick lunch of pomelo and some bread with cucumber, salt, and soysauce (bought it from a street vendor right outside my building), I succeeded in unpacking everything. I feel all the way at home now.

At 3pm I had a meeting with the Vice Dean (who I met last week at the Ambassador's Reception) to go over some what work I'll be doing. It was a brief meeting--she's a busy woman--and I didn't really learn anything I didn't already know. But oh well. I'll be assisting with 4 classes--two English major classes and two non-major--as well as working the English club and with "class meetings". Still not exactly sure what the latter is, but we'll get it worked out. Hong, the Vice Dean, also helped me arrange to buy a bike. She's sending one of the English teachers to help me on Thursday. Very exciting! A big expenditure but virtually necessary here.

Having gone to the market, cleaned and unpacked, and gone to my meeting, I had only one objective left for the day: the BEACH. I put on my suit, a skirt, a tshirt, and headed down the street to the beach. It's a 5 minute walk. (How is this my life?) The beach is beautiful. The weather here is perrrrfect, especially in the mornings and evenings. I spent the late afternoon and early evening walking along the beach. I had every intent of swimming, but no girl here over the age of 12 wears a bathing suit. They all swim in their clothes, and I felt kind of awkward. Plus I only have one towel at the moment--my bath towel--and I wasn't dying to get it sandy. So I just walked. I walked allllll the way down the beach and back. It took me a couple hours, but it was gorgeous, and like I said, the weather was perfect. And, for that matter, so is the water. Absolute perfect temperature. Not cold, not hot. Perfect. Baby bear porridge.

walking to the beach

Back at my room, Katherine invited me to dinner with some friends of hers, who turned out to be two guys who are students here. They speak pretty good english and are patient with our vegetarianism. We walked for a while, but ultimately couldn't find a decent vegetarian place to eat. We decided to assemble a meal ourselves and eat in Katherine's room. We bought some rice and veggies, watermelon, chom chom fruit, and the boys bought some baguettes, some sweetened condensed milk dip it in, and some rice cracker/paper stuff. I supplied some pepsi I had in my room, and it actually ended up being a huge meal.

On the way back to the room from buying the food, Katherine pointed out an old vietnamese man sitting on the sidewalk with basically two buckets in front of him. She told me that he speaks french and sells frozen yogurt, and a frozen treat of smashed banana, sweet condensed milk and peanuts. The latter cost 1,000 VND, or about 6 cents. I would have glady paid him 2 dollars for the delicious treat. When I walked up to him, he asked me in English if I wanted "banana". I said yes and he asked me in French if I spoke French. "Oui," I replied, and he started rattling on in French. He seemed to be comprehensible but his accent was thick and he didn't have many teeth yet. I think was talking about Germans and learning french and teaching French. He asked me if I was a teacher, and if I taught French or English. I bought two banana treats from him--one for me and one for Katherine--and was overjoyed at the entire transaction. The banana treat was so damn good. And since I'll probably be buying one from him nearly every day (a habit which will run me about 50 cents a week), at least I know I wont entirely lose my french.

And now, after the banana treats and an impromptu feast with Katherine and two Vietnamese kids (both actually older than me) on Katherine's floor, I'm cocooned in the mosquito-net that hangs over my bed, enjoying the fairly stable wifi and feeling happy, at home, calm, peaceful, accepting, excited, grateful, fortunate....overwhelmed by all of these things. I'm looking forward to another wonderful day tomorrow--it's Vietnamese Independence Day, so it should be exciting.

Updates should be more regular now, and photos will be on picasa soon**...The photos seem increasingly important on this trip as the locales just get more and more beautiful. Nha Trang is so beautiful--like I said, mountains, palm trees, stretches of beach, incredible rock outcroppings, nearly perfect weather.... I'm a very lucky girl.

**Actually, I just encountered a photo problem. Apparently I'm at my "upload max" because this thing is linked to my picasa, etc etc. So I'll have to work around that. But most likely no more pics here, and the rest on my new picasa.... :(