Leaving wonderful Vietnam soon

I am winding down my time in Vietnam, visiting the usual places I go to, and trying to say goodbye to people who don't understand anything I say, including hello and goodbye. My plan is to return, but you know how plans are. Doctors and others will determine what happens next. Who knows? Who cares?
I want to single out some extra wonderful people I've met here. If I spell the names wrong, I don't care. My name gets messed up all the time, too. Here are the folk who were special to me.
-- All the students. Even the unruly ones and the ones who hated Mr. John. They made my time in Vietnam wonderful and occasionally challenging. I loved it.These guys are the future, and I'm happy about that. Some of them even learned a little English along the way. Maybe. And remember, students: Ladies first.
-- Win (Nguyen), Chin (Chinh) and the other nice staffers at VMG. They have been helpful throughout, even with my whining and complaining.
--Mr. Tu, the security guard. He watched my bike, and slept next to me after my accident. And he bummed countless cigarettes from me, which reduced my smoking. He's a quality man. Really. (And there's also Joy, who calls me Sunshine, and is really a great teacher and mentor.)
.-- Phuong Duc, the HSBC lady who keeps my money right. She's very pleasant and helpful.
-- The lady who runs the coffee shop next to VMG. Her prices are great. She accepts my tip with a smile (and deserves it) and she says THANK YOU (in Vietnamese, of course, but it's still thank you). And I've never seen her pick her nose.
-- The staff at the Khanh Dang hotel. Great folk. A rat, yes, a rat, ran across my foot at my old apartment/hot box (my fault because the front door was open due to the oppressive heat). That would never happen at the Khanh Dang (I hope). I am told that rats are pretty common, sometimes, and like to visit Americans.
-- The girls who massage my head. They're nice and they do a good job. My brainless head feels fine, especially after the massage.
-- The ladies at the little stand where I get greasy chicken and fish squares. All deep-fried, of course.
-- All the strangers who were nice to me (of course, I like them).  And the nice people at ABC bakery, where I would get a taste of home once a week.
-- If I forgot you, it's because I'm brainless, but I still want to say thanks to you and everyone.

Now for the good stuff -- the things I won't miss when I return to the United States.
-- The really quick way people say NO. Some people will say NO before you finish your request. People say no and what I want is right behind them, three feet away. The double hand-shaking by the head to say NO can be rough at first for the foreigner, who doesn't always understand it.
-- The SARS masks. It's a personal thing. I just don't like them, although they do serve a purpose. I saw a woman wearing a SARS mask inside her car with the windows rolled up.
-- Fish oil. It's everywhere and served with everything, even meat and chicken and eggs. And it smells like ... fish.
-- The beef and lack of quality sharp cheese. On the plus side, the lack of these items keeps your weight down.
-- The heat and humidity. But that's not anybody's fault. It's just geography.
-- Cell phones and talking in the movie theaters. (Wait, that happens in the U.S. all the time). 

See, that wasn't too bad. The time here has been well-spent, even with the little -- and expensive -- motorbike mishap. It turns out my skull wasn't fractured (a look at the records show), but I did have some internal bleeding. At least I think that's the case. Who knows? Who cares? I've come to understand the motorbike and how traffic works here, so that's neither good nor bad. It's just how it is.
The people here are honest and direct and very good-hearted. Those are three qualities I admire in any culture.

A great day for teachers

Teachers' day in Vietnam is a big deal. In fact, teachers are a pretty big deal here. Nov. 20 is Teachers' day, and students bring flowers, food and gifts for all the teachers. Even the ones with no brains from the United States. I was the beneficiary of this kindness Tuesday. One class, which I just started teaching, brought me three roses. My second class of the evening, which I've taught for a while, brought me a cake, statue and incredible flower arrangement. I love these guys. They said they were also celebrating my upcoming birthday. Actually, I think they were celebrating the fact I'm going back to the USA in early December. I ruined the celebration by telling the students I was coming back to Vietnam in January. Seriously, I think we genuinely like each other (or at least I like them.) They're relatively new to English but they're catching on fast. We enjoyed the cake and soda and each other's company. I think they wanted to go sing karaoke after class but I don't really like to sing.. Karaoke is hugely popular here. There are karaoke parlors on every corner and they're packed. Kind of like "clubs" and discos in the U.S. in the early 80's. All Vietnamese women believe they can sing, and they sound pretty good really -- compared to me. Fingernails on a chalkboard sound good compared to me as well. You almost have to be able to sing to speak this language -- in my opinion.
I've booked my flight to the U.S., of course, and my ex-wife told me the airline I'm flying to the U.S. is dreadful. Luckily, it's only 21-plus hours in the air. I'm very much looking forward to seeing my children. I can't wait to see friends and a couple of doctors as well.
We had a very nice Teachers' day party at VMG school with awards and food. I think I was voted the teacher with the smallest brain. Winning is everything to an American :).
The hot rainy season is slowing down, and the hot hot season is kicking in.
I left the apartment/hot box I was living in and moved to the Khanh Dang Hotel nearby. It's the hotel with dynamite air conditioning, so life is good now. I had three "minor" motorbike accidents while moving. A guy pushed his bike in front of me as I was going down the street and I took off his fender. Since it was his fault, I waived ... and took off. A guy wasn't paying attention on my side street and broad-sided me. Just a bruise, so I waived ... and took off. I nicked the side of a bike in my alley (all my fault) and the family came running outside to see what happened. Man, did I get the evil eye. But one guy was really cool, and helped load all the crap back on my bike, and then said no worries. So I waived ... and took off. My camera was taken in the move as well. I go through cameras like tissues.
As much as I can't wait to get back to the U.S. for a while, I'll really miss the students here and I'll really miss teaching. I wish I had gone into teaching earlier, like 35 years ago, but there's a whole bunch of stuff I wish I could change. So what's the point.

What's the difference?

Anyone from the West planning to visit or teach English in Vietnam really should be aware of the cultural differences. The thing is: The differences are ever-shifting. Workers (that's what employed people call themselves here) at some coffee shops or chicken stands view a tip as an insult. In fact, they won't accept extra money. But moments earlier, they reached into your wallet to make sure you paid the proper amount. If your tip is accepted, which it is sometimes, a handful of workers then expect a tip all the time from you and become indignant when you don't tip. And I'm a regular at these places.
Money is something of an obsession here, which is understandable in a country where there isn't a lot of money floating around. When I've met people, they've asked on quite a few occasions: ''How are you? Where do you live? How much is the rent? Where do you teach? How much do you make? I like your haircut; how much did you pay for it?" I guarantee you'll get these questions. But the people here are very nice, and incredibly helpful and generous. So I dance around the tough questions and change the subject. "Sure is hot today," I'll say. Weather is usually free. After a short game of dodge ball, they'll get the idea that I'm not talking money. These are wonderful, decent people.
Expect brutal honesty here. I'll bring my beloved students a treat, and they'll complain it's not chocolate, or that they wanted something salty, not sweet.  Usually I can wear them down and they'll take it, but some students stick to their principles and refuse my offer. I try to use this as a teaching moment, and tell the students that when someone offers them a treat, they should say thanks, take it, and then give it away or toss it if they don't like it. I don't know, maybe the students are right.
I'm doing my best to introduce "ladies first" -- something my mom drilled into me -- and I've actually had some success. I make sure girls get the first pick of crayons, and that they get to leave the classroom first. It wasn't easy because line-cutting is a way of life here. No one has ever really yielded to me, or given me the right of way, on the motorbike. It's dog eat dog (and people really do eat dog here).
At one time, I planned to leave Vietnam and quit my job at VMG. But that's not going to happen ... I hope. VMG has been very good to me and Vietnam kind of gets under your skin in a good way. And the students are absolutely awesome. Really. The kids learn lightning-fast, the teens are, well, cool teens, the university students are extraordinarily bright, and the adult students are very serious about improving their English. There's going to be cultural bumps along the way. After all, I'm a pasty-white, stubborn American. But I'm learning the culture here better. I hope the students are learning some English.
I'm returning to the U.S. for much of December and January to see family and friends. Then I'll return to Vietnam and VMG to hopefully resume teaching. Sounds like a plan.

Making headway

It's been a while since I've blogged. This is more from general laziness and being busy than anything else. I am just about completely recovered from my motorbike wreck other than a good-sized bump on the back of my head and an occasional headache. I go to a massage parlor twice a week and get a head massage. It's awesome. The girl spends close to an hour shampooing my head and rubbing my temples of doom, slapping my face, and twisting my neck. All for under $3 U.S. Since I want nothing but my head rubbed, the girls are very attentive and appreciative. It's the proverbial "win-win."
Classes have returned to normal, and I have wonderful, wonderful classes and students. One student named Jack tells me I'm boring, and I tell him that my son, who is also named Jack, also thinks I'm boring. So student Jack and I get along fine. I taught a couple of classes at a local high school. I can't believe how respectful and well-behaved the students were. Give 'em a few more classes with me and that'll fade. Actually, I don't think so. The students here seem to really respect teachers. I'm OK with that. I really respect the students, who work hard and enjoy themselves at the same time. Some of the older students try to do the cell-phone thing (which I don't allow in class). Welcome to the 21st century.
Language remains the big issue for me. I tried to buy shoelaces and the girl working in the store sent me to bra section. So I bought a bra. It's a little tight.
I got new glasses. That was a struggle as well. People here, when they want your attention, yell (and I mean yell) HEY YOU!!!. There's no "excuse me" or Vietnamese equivalent. It's HEY YOU -- take it or leave it. I see lots of younger people (and older people, for that matter), picking their noses. I don't really care, except when one of those people brings me my coffee. Also, the air here reminds me of Bakersfield air.
I haven't touched alcohol -- beer or anything -- since the accident. Doctors said it would be a bad idea to drink after a head injury like I had (and I only had 2 beers with dinner the night of the wreck). I still smoke cigarettes, but that'll stop one of these days. I'm back on the motorbike with an improved helmet. No brain.
I know I'm OK physically because I started sweating again like crazy. Right after the wreck I wasn't sweating, and I know that's not right. So I'm back to 2-3 showers a day, and hating the heat here. And this is rainy season. In Vietnam, locals say there are two seasons -- wet and dry. I say there are two as well -- hot wet and hot dry.
I miss the crisp autumn weather in the states, but most of all I miss my children -- Jessica, Caroline, Jack and Alec. I'll be looking to do some couch surfing this March.

If I only had a brain

Do you need a brain to write a blog? Right here is proof you don't. I had a thunderous motorcycle crash a couple of weeks ago, and fractured my skull in three places. Internal bleeding. Unconscious for some time. The whole package. A guy named Al pulled me off the street. Since then, several other people have claimed responsibility for my rescue, but Al is the real deal. I was out for a couple of days and went from Bien Hoa, to Ho Chi Minh, and finally to Bangkok, where they woke me up every couple of hours to make sure I went No. 1 and No. 2. There was no operation, most likely because they couldn't find a brain to be damaged. I was dizzy and had a headache and body ache for a few days, but I quickly returned to Bien Hoa and resumed teaching a mere 10 days or so after the crash. You do need a brain to teach, unfortunately, so that's been a little bit of struggle for me, but I'm happy to be back in the classroom. The students are awesome.
I want to first and foremost thank my ex-wife Lynda, who flew to Bangkok with my son Alec to be at my bedside and listen to my jibberish.  I whined about no cigarettes and coffee, and didn't get any, but Lynda and Alec stayed with me. The ex- in ex-wife Lynda stands for excellent. And Alec is the man, even if he made off with my camera. I recovered so quickly and so well because of their visit. I know it.
I want to thank VMG for rushing to my side as well. They've been great through the whole process and were more than happy to put me back to work. Thanks, ladies and gentlemen. And Mr. Tu slept alongside me to make sure I remained among the living. Here's to you, Mr. Tu, and your fantastic snoring. Sometimes it takes something disastrous, like a bike wreck and head injury, to make you realize how wonderful people can truly be. And how much you truly love your family.
And let me say another thing. Hospitals aren't good places. They do good things, but they're, well, not good places. They're full of sick and hurt people, for one thing, they wake you up a lot, for another, and the food really is wretched. I don't think I really ate for a week or so, which means I look like a normal person now. Co-worker Joy is trying to fatten me up with lasagna and duck and chicken and ham and cheese and other goodies. I think it's working.
Fatigue seems to be the only side-effect so far, but I'm always tired anyway. No brain, no problems (except in the classroom). Obviously, it hasn't affected the blog any.
Thanks to all of my other friends as well for their support. I'll pay you guys the money I owe you as soon as I get it. Later.

Happy days

My son Jack came to visit, and it was the best nine days I've had in Vietnam. We didn't do a whole lot -- ate seafood, drank a few beers, ate some more seafood, ate some beef, drank a few more beers. We checked out some of the local Bien Hoa markets and sang a little karaoke.We talked a lot. Like I said, it was a great visit. While visiting, Jack got accepted into NYU law school. It was kind of a last-minute thing because he was set to attend Georgetown. I was there when it all went down with New York University and I was pretty excited. Not as excited as Jack, of course, but when you're an old fart, you want the good things to happen to your children and you don't care so much about yourself. Given my lifestyle, I guess I've never really cared about myself.
I'm street legal now. I have a motorbike license and three accidents to my credit. The accidents were pretty minor, and they serve as a great reminder that there are plenty of morons on the road, including a big, dopey white guy. But only one of the mishaps was really my fault, and everyone just continued on their way anyway.
Jack and I found an interesting coffee shop where the service is extra special. The coffee isn't bad, either, so we did some time there. But we only sampled the coffee.
The line cutting drives me crazy. People do it in the stores, on their bikes, in wheelchairs. It doesn't matter how long you've been waiting. No one cares. The locals are worse with each other than they are with me -- almost. I was sitting on my bike today and a guy behind me rode over my foot while I waited for a parking space to clear. Then he took the parking space. It was all I could do not to clock him, but I realized this is just business as usual here. People just bang into you when you're walking in a market or store. Just like Peru. Now that I think about it, the line cutting was awful in Peru as well. I guess I really miss the line etiquette in the U.S.
The rain has been pretty relentless lately. Yesterday, there was a two-hour downpour followed by three hours of steady rain. It's raining now. The Vietnamese get really worked up about the rain. They scurry and ride their bikes like crazy so they don't get wet. It rains nearly every day, so you'd think they'd be used to it. Not so.
My skin problems continue, but like cutting in line, I think it's just a fact of life here for me because of the heat and my penchant for sweating. Bummer.
Classes are going very well, and I'm getting to know the students. The younger students, ages 6 to 12, are fantastic. And their English is better than most of the adults. We have a good time in class as well. The older students are wonderful too, so there are no complaints about the job part of life here.
Life is good, even with the line cutting.
I'm picking up a tiny bit of Vietnamese, and I just ignore the locals when they laugh at my pronunciation. Ha ha ha. Ban dep.

Code of the road

Riding a motorbike in Vietnam is quite the experience. Like going to the dentist. Or a proctologist. But after a few weeks of navigating the rocky and crowded roads of Bien Hoa, I realize there is a method to the madness. Here are some of the rules of the road:
-- Right or wrong, cars have right of way. And believe me, they take it. Be prepared.
-- You are responsible for what's in front of you. Riders stop for no apparent reason. They swerve unexpectedly to the left or right. They text while riding. If any of this happens in front of you, it's your responsibility. Be prepared.
-- The far right lane is a free-for-all. Bikes come from both directions. Bikes enter from side streets and they don't yield, care or look for oncoming traffic. Bikes come toward you in this lane as well. They're probably trying to cross the street, or they've just crossed the street from the other side. Be prepared.
-- Bikes will pass you on the left and right. Some chuckleheads will fly past you at high rates of speed and come within inches of you. I look quickly into my side mirrors quite a bit, but I don't linger because anything can happen in front of you. Be prepared.
-- If you stop at a light and leave seven inches between your bike and the bike in front of you, I guarantee some other biker will push his tire between you and the bike ahead of you so he or she can can move ahead of you. There's no real etiquette. Of course, it's the same thing at the market. There's no shame here in cutting in line. Be prepared.
-- Crossing the road takes raw courage. You edge into the oncoming traffic and hope the bikes swerve around you. You do this bit by bit until you've reached the other side. Be really, really prepared.
-- Driving a little faster than the rest of traffic is actually safer than taking your time and going with the flow. The idea is to create space.

I had a bad reaction to something I ate, and I've broken out in welts. Luckily, they're not on my face. I've  just about gotten rid of my face fungus. I'll adapt, eventually, but the process is excruciating.
My son Jack is coming in less than a week, and I'm really excited about that. I'll be able to talk English with someone. I've learned a teeny weeny bit of Vietnamese, but it's a slow process. Kind of like getting rid of my skin ailments.
I've lost power in my apartment a couple of times. Forget the lights; the real issue is no fans or air conditioning. The roaches sensed the power outage and invaded en masse. I swept seven dead roaches off the floor after a sleepless night of sweating, and then taught three classes.
Rain has been very heavy lately, but I don't mind. It's cooler, and I'm usually already wet from sweating.
Food is still amazing, students are still great and other than a few complaints, I don't really have any complaints. Huh? 

A non-verbal knucklehead learns

In the past week or so, I realized I was misreading some of the non-verbal cues from the fine folk of Bien Hoa. The easy one: The peace sign means hello; westerners wave their hand to say hi. Next, when the Vietnamese shake their hand quickly back and forth (with no arm movement), that means "no" or "we don't have what you want." I thought it meant "maybe" or "don't know." This misunderstanding caused me more than a little grief and confusion. Finally, when the middle-aged males gave me the stare, I thought it was alpha-male, machismo, smack-down time. Wrong again. When I got the stare a couple times this past week, I politely bowed my head and smiled, and they responded in kind. I wish I figured this out earlier. They just wanted to see how the visitor treats others. Got it.
I've developed a hideous rash on my face from a motorbike helmet chinstrap. I've got medicine, but the heat and my sweating keeps the rash thriving. It features blisters and swelling welts. Lovely. Welcome to the tropics. I'm growing a beard to cover it.
Also got a stomach thing. It's not as bad as the ones I got in Peru, but it's got my attention. Oddly, with a frightful face and grinding gut, I had a wonderful week of classes.  Students were great (and probably intimidated by my Frankenface) and the lessons went really well. Go figure.
My apartment is a little like Animal Planet, which I watch every night on the apartment's wonderful flat-screen TV. I've seen  a couple generations of geckos come and go. I watch them mature from little babies to full-fledged lizards. They play in my trash, run all over the walls, and hide behind the pictures on the walls and under the throw rugs. They keep the roaches and mosquitoes at bay. Nature is so beautiful.
Finally, I broke my vow and bought a motorbike Thursday. I got tired of walking everywhere and arriving a sweaty mess, and I needed some freedom of movement. My two favorite coffee/smoothie spots near my house are gone. One closed and moved. The other one burned down. Now I've got mobility to find a new coffee spot where I can sit and watch the motorbikes go by. The traffic is wild and comes at you from every direction, and you trade paint with the bikes alongside you. But if you take it slow and are really careful .... you'll probably still get smashed. Screw it.

Did you see that?

I'm still not used to being stared at everywhere I go. I don't mean simply an extended casual glance. I'm talking fixated starting, with nary a blink. Kids, adults, the elderly, plants and animals. I'm being watched. People watch me eat to see if I can handle chopsticks. They watch me drink coffee. They try to peek in my grocery bags to see what kind of food I'm buying at the Coop Mart. I remember the first time I saw Dave Chappelle in Yellow Springs. OK, I stared a little. But Chappelle is an honest-to-god celebrity who has tremendous talent. All I have is white skin and a 6-foot frame. I'm told by the few locals I know that people in Bien Hoa don't see many folk that look like me. They should count their blessings.
Most of the reaction I get from the onlookers is positive. There will be a smile or nod. A couple of times, however, the interaction has been uncomfortable. A guy came and sat next to me while I was having dinner and demanded I buy him a beer because "You're a rich American. You pay. You got money." I ignored him and he yelled, "Look at me. Look at me." I gave him a cigarette and he finally went away. Nothing good would come from a confrontation, although it was getting close to that point.  Another time, two creepy guys sat  on either side of me telling me how much they really liked me. "But we don't know each other," I said. Unfortunately, these encounters happened at what has become my former favorite restaurant. I found another place to eat, but even there four guys insisted I chug beers with them. Bottoms up. Man, I just wanted dinner. I didn't feel like performing, so I got my check and left. Overall, the people are wonderful here, but sometimes a little attention can go a very long way. Guess I've got to adjust somehow.
Classes are going well. I'm teaching kids and teenagers, and they're fun. They're rambunctious, but  when they start to bug me, I just remember what a chucklehead I was at their age. I teach at a factory sort-of place, Taekwon, and the class is awesome.So are the classes with the vocational teachers. Good people. When I have challenging classes, I just try to come up with better material for them. It keeps me on task. I don't hit a home run every time, but I have more time to lesson plan now because I'm limiting my public appearances.
I saw a couple of rough motorbike accidents last week. In one, a little girl was bounced off the bike and ended up sitting in the street. She got up and walked to the sidewalk, where she stood kind of shellshocked. The two drivers regrouped and picked up the broken parts of their bikes. No one spoke and traffic swerved around them. In the other accident, a motorbike hit a bicyclist. No one spoke and traffic swerved around them.
I've seen about six accidents since I've been here, and I'm surprised I haven't seen more -- people text-message while riding their bikes in absolutely crazy rush-hour traffic. Gutsy stuff. My plans to get a motorbike are still on hold, and will probably stay that way as long as I'm here.

Rain and roommates

The rainy season has started here, and I, for one, like it. The rain means it cools off for about an hour or two a day. Even better, there's a cool breeze right before the storm hits. The locals feel the breeze, then scurry to cover everything up and weigh all their stuff down. It gets windy, and there's lots of thunder and lightning. Good stuff. The storms often come mid-afternoon, but they can hit any time, really. Oddly, I haven't been caught in the rain yet. Since I just wrote that, I'm really going to get soaked next time out. After the rain, it can be either nasty hot and humid, or quite nice. Thumbs-up to the rainy season.
I think I'm actually adapting to the heat a little. My shirts are only three-quarters soaked with sweat rather than completely drenched when I teach. I've got my persistent heat rash under control with copious amounts of Lamisil. I'm sure I'll suffer in the cold when I return to the U.S.
Everyone still says hi to me on the streets, and children come up and look at me like I've got three eyes on my second head. But once they get used to my odd appearance, they're friendly and engaging. It's all quite enjoyable. And so are the classes and students. I might even have a favorite class (ha ha). They're UNBELIEVABLE, as one of the students says. Actually, all the classes are excellent ... none better than the other.
I've discovered another universal truth in addition to the petulance of big box electronic store employees: unacceptable movie theater behavior. I went to see Star Trek 2 last night (it's in English with Vietnamese subtitles) and you're assigned a seat. Mine was J7. Behind me was a family of 5 who were discussing who knows what, maybe their summer holiday plans, as the movie got under way. In front of me was a couple; the girl was looking at photos on her smart-ass phone. Five young girls came in about 10 minutes into the movie and marched up and down the aisles and went in and out of the theater throughout the film. Their assigned seats were next to me. All other seats in the theater were empty, so I did what any sane human being would have done and moved. Then the usher came in and gestured that I had to return to my assigned seat. I used sign language to plead my case, gesturing that there was chaos all around me in an otherwise empty theater. He got it and I enjoyed the movie, which was very good by the way.
Every few days I sweep up the dead roaches from my apartment floors. And they're not even paying rent. Ah, life in the tropics.

No mo' hotel

I will miss the Khanh Dang Hotel, where I lived for a couple of months. The receptionists were nice, they did my laundry (for a fee), cleaned my room most days, and the room air conditioner felt like it was nuclear powered. But I decided to move and to have more room, a kitchen and stuff like that. The new apartment is a little further from work, but not enough to matter. I sweat as soon as I step outside anyway. Only one room has AC in the apartment, but the fans actually do an OK (not great, but OK) job of keeping the place slightly cooler than a steam room. I live right on the railroad tracks, but the passing trains don't bother me. I've always liked the sound of trains.
School is good and the bosses are fine. Classes have been real good lately. Students like fun and games, and Taylor Swift. Grammar, not so much. But they get it, and I'm impressed with what they absorb, even when they don't seem to pay attention. Bright folk.
I'm blocked from Facebook at my new place for whatever reason.
My boss and another teacher took me to a local park, Buu Long/Dragonland. Other than being an extra hot day, it was real nice. The pictures are on facebook (back when I could access facebook). Blogspot is balky when it comes to posting pictures and it took forever to figure out how to make them a little bigger. Sometimes they shrink when I add other pictures. Not exactly user friendly, but functional. It won't let me rearrange pictures now, so apartment pictures are out of order. Sorry.
I've had a number of people mention how "fat" I am. They say that's why I sweat so much. The people here are quite direct. They all think I'm much younger than I am, which is nice, but when I tell them I'm 58, they now think I'm "old" and "fat".
Not much progress on the language. I just get laughter when I try to speak Vietnamese.
The food rocks. Had some really good pho (a soup pronounced fa, but I'm sure I'm wrong again) and great shrimp. So it's not my fault. All the good food is making me "fat".
Forgot to mention that most of the beer is served warm, and you get a big block of ice in your glass. When the ice melts, the "workers" replace your ice with a new block. However, the old ice goes back in the new ice bucket, meaning you're probably sucking down some other guy's spit. That might explain the lung ailment I had last week. Lots of people hack -- and smoke -- here. Motorbike air, cigarettes and shared ice.

Food for thought

The food here is a real highlight. A U.S. quarter will get you four good-sized chicken wings -- it could be dinner. Shrimp and fish are absurdly cheap. You get a whole fish, noddles, cucumber, pineapple, iceberg and leaf lettuce, rice paper, and other stuff I can't identify for $4.50. For $3.50, there's an all-you-can eat breakfast buffet across the street at  a nice hotel. Most of it is pretty healthy as well. The white noodles go really well with just about everything. I'm better with chopsticks, but the other night one of my chopsticks flew out of my hand and almost lanced some guy sitting near me. He didn't smile.
It's also nice you're not super-sized with sodas ... they're 10 oz., not 12 or 20. I drink the coffee here only as a treat since I brought a one-cup plastic filter holder from the U.S. (along with three pounds of Dunkin Donuts coffee) so I can have some drip coffee.
Still no luck with the language. Usually, when I try to say a word, the locals either laugh at me very loudly or chastise me with "No, no no." I'm on the verge of giving up. However, in one of my classes while teaching vocabulary, I said the Vietnamese word for keys and the students applauded. That's the kind of reinforcement I'll need to continue learning Vietnamese.
The classes are going well and the students, for the most part, are pretty engaged. Just like in Peru, certain sounds like "th" and "sh" are challenging for them, but they catch on pretty quick -- quicker than I'm catching on to Vietnamese.  I was teaching adjectives Friday night and asked the class to describe me. First word they said was "fat." The second might have been "old" but I had moved on to adverbs at that point. And I swear that's true. In the same class, I asked a girl if I could help her with a word she didn't understand in the reading, and she responded, "Whatever," and refused my help. "Young" people. Go figure.
Some behavior is universal, in my view. The big electronic stores here have the same vibe as the ones in Peru and the U.S. There's three or four employees standing around using their smartphones or "whatever," or they're talking, and you stand there like a moron waiting for service. They look at you, then go back to their phones or their critically important conversations. I'll bet it's the same in Botswana. So, I ended up at a smaller retailer here and got good service and the product I needed, even with the language barrier. Lesson learned.
Some random observations: Folk here seem more fascinated with Europe, especially the UK, than the USA. Given the events of history, that's quite understandable. Lots of Manchester United hoodies and shirts here. Yes, people wear hoodies in this ungodly heat, especially girls on motorbikes. Energy drinks like Red Bull are very popular. Some of the corporate classes I have always bring a couple of Red Bulls and a couple of waters for me. Haven't found a pharmacy yet near me, but it's very high on my list of things to do.

Adjusting, learning, and a little whining

The positives far outweigh the negatives here, but I wouldn't be a thorough blogger if I didn't report some of the ... well ... challenges.
First, the weather. I know weather whining is trite, but imagine the hottest, most humid July afternoon in Ohio or Delaware. Now ratchet that up a notch and you're almost in Bien Hoa. When I got back from the U.S., my internal clock was upside down and the heat was extra brutal, even for Vietnam. I was a mess and my bosses were asking what was wrong with me. Standing there on two hours sleep, pouring sweat (I'm the only person who sweats in this country), I said, "Nothing." It took me a couple of weeks to adjust time-wise, and I'm still a little off. Old age, I guess.
The people are very nice, but their willingness to help can be startling, for lack of a better word.. If you're doing something like putting on a motorbike helmet, and you miss the snap once, they're right there trying to snap it for you. Don't open doors for the ladies here .... they insist (INSIST) on opening them for me. When you're paying for something, and you take a moment to count through the piles of bills you have due to the currency, folks gets itchy and reach into your wallet to grab the correct bills. I realize I'm the guest here and have many cultural lessons to learn, but I put my foot down on this one: Don't grab my wallet. I intentionally leave off the please so they know I'm serious. Of course that leads to many apologies and I feel bad. But, you know, reaching into a stranger's (or even a friend's) wallet ....
In Peru, everyone was in a huge hurry, cutting in line and stuff, and then they were always late. In Vietnam, people are late, then they're in a hurry and they expect the same from you even though you were the one waiting. It's kind of cute.
All whining aside, the people in Vietnam are wonderful, the kindest and most helpful I've encountered in my limited travels.  And they're positive even though it's hot and crowded, two conditions that make Americans irritable at best. The food is great and inexpensive. The beer is mediocre and inexpensive. Taxis are air-conditioned and inexpensive. Like I said, the positives far outweigh the challenges.
I'm used to the traffic and have learned to cross the street fairly safely, although I was hit once in a parking lot and once on the road. On the road, the guy who clipped me went down in heap, but bounced up and thanked me for helping him. The lady who hit me in the parking lot didn't do any damage, and she was as shocked as I was. No harm, no foul.
Teaching is going fine. Students are students no matter where. Some days they're enthusiastic, other days they're sluggish, probably because they're tired from working so much. I like them all and we're getting along quite well. I hope my sweating doesn't creep them out.

Mourning, then returning

My dad died March 22. I rushed back from Vietnam but didn't quite make it in time. I arrived about 10 hours after he passed. Even though I knew I had missed him, I was driving on adrenalin and got from Dulles to Wilmington, Del., in about 1 hour, 50 minutes. My brother told my dad I was on my way, but I think my dad had already decided it was time to move on. Ninety-eight is a long life. The viewing, mass, funeral, all went well .... as well as those kinds of things go. Saw all my kids and a lot of family, and that was good.
Moving on ....
I guess Vietnam is just about halfway around the world, because I've flown there twice and have gone two routes -- across the Pacific, and across the Atlantic. Either way, it's 23 hours or so in the air. Taking the east to west route I stopped in Doha, Qatar, and enjoyed the airport for a seven-hour layover. No alcohol, but there is a smoking room. The smoking room was like the bar scene in Star Wars -- I sat between an Italian and a really tall, blonde Russian girl. There were Filippinos, Vietnamese, Brits, Germans and everyone in-between. Ah, smoking ... the universal language. The smoking room was extra unhealthy because there were no fans or vents operating, and it was so smoke-filled you literally had trouble seeing across the 12-foot room. If that room doesn't turn you off to smoking, nothing will. I've only had one cigarette since I've been in there. I'm still trying to decompress.
It's great to be back in Vietnam, even if it was close to 100 and unbearably humid on Sunday. (It was cold and it snowed when I was back in Delaware.) But in Bien Hoa, the hotel ladies gave me a warm welcome, the smoothie youngsters were clearly happy to see me, and my boss gave me my schedule. Back to work tomorrow, which is a good thing. Teaching these students, just like the students in Peru, isn't like work at all. This is fun, so I'll enjoy it while I can.

Xin chao ... uh ... hello

I'm slowly getting settled in here. Bien Hoa is clearly off the beaten track. It's an industrial city about 20 miles from Ho Chi Ming City, but it certainly doesn't feel like HCMC. There are really no tourist attractions here. In fact, I'm probably the biggest (in every sense of the word) tourist attraction for the locals. They all stare at me when I walk the streets or eat out, but unlike other places I've been, I usually get a big smile and HELL-O. Kids follow me along the street like I'm the Pied Piper. The people are a big plus here. They're very welcoming. Everyone wants me to sit down, even if I've been sitting all day. Service is excellent, whether it's the restaurants, or coffee shops (of which there are millions), or department stores. The only time I've encountered attitude is when people are on their scooters. There are billions of scooters -- everyone has one, including teens. I thought about getting a scooter, but that would be like going on suicide watch. Crossing the street on foot is plenty dangerous because there is always heavy duty traffic. And no one slows down when they're on their scooter.
Communication is a struggle. No one speaks English here. They know numbers so you can pay them when you buy stuff, but otherwise it's charades.  American charades must be different as well, because I've had a heck of a time getting my points across. Vietnamese is a tough language. They use our letters, but don't pronounce them the same, so the written word isn't a whole lot of help. Pitch is crucial to the language, and I've never been able to pitch. I'm trying to learn, but failing so far.
The food is awesome, and very cheap. A long loaf of French bread that costs $2.25 in the U.S., goes for 6,700 dong here or about 33 cents. Packaged dinners/lunches at the super market are 18,000 dong, or about $1.50, and they include pork, noodles, and some vegetables. Good stuff. The tastes are surprising as well .... a vegetable soup has a sweet aftertaste, or there's a spicy finish to chicken, which is dirt cheap here. I've just begun to scratch the surface when it comes to the food.
Teaching is fine. The students are great. Very friendly and hard-working. I only have one day off a week, which is sort of OK, because other days I may only teach a class or two. The bosses are great, and they're determined to make sure I have a good experience here. Cheers to that.
Speaking of cheers, the Vietnamese like to go bottoms-up when drinking, which basically means you're chugging beer. Don't like that custom. Local beer is watery lagers, and there's Heineken. Bottoms up!
Coffee is a bit of a problem for me. Haven't found drip coffee yet. It's expresso with sweetened condensed milk. Cheap, to be sure, but it ain't Dunkin Donuts or Dinos. Cigarettes are super cheap as well -- about 95 cents a pack. Picked the wrong country to quit smoking, but I'll keep it on my to-do list.
 Miss family and friends in the U.S., and I miss my favorite students and other fine folk in Peru.

So here I am ...

All things considered, the trip here went pretty darn good. The snow was coming down sideways as my plane sat on the runway at O'Hare. But after a 45-minute delay, we took off. Turns out, that was the last plane to leave O'Hare before the airport was shut down by the weather. Chicago to Tokyo flight was rough: I was moved next to a little girl and her mom and dad, and the little girl puked almost the entire flight. Poor thing. Because of the delay in Chicago, I missed my connection in Tokyo (to Ho Chi Ming City), but the Tokyo airport was so well organized that they already had a new connection with boarding pass lined up for me as I got off the plane.  My flight to HCMC was awesome .... great food, big seats and half-full plane. Good thing about long flights: I watched The Master, Social Network (again), Taken 2; and Wallee. Two things struck me right away about Vietnam when I got off the plane in Ho Chi Ming City. First, the people were very tolerant of my inability to speak any Vietnamese whatsoever  -- and they got me my visa and through customs with no worries. Second, it's going to take me some time to get used to the heat and humidity here. I've been doing some serious sweating, and it's kind of embarrassing.  I spent my first night in a seedy hotel in the center of HCMC. I say seedy because it was cheap for the location, had no towels, the lights went out as soon as I entered the room, and these guys stood outside and yelled "Hey girl" at me as I carried my luggage to the room. But there was a delux Starbucks across the street, where I used the internet to connect with my school, which sent a taxi to pick me up and take me to Bien Hoa. Traffic, which is extreme, moves very slowly here, but it moves. It took almost an hour to get from HCMC to Bien Hoa and it's not a great distance -- about 15-20 miles maybe. Met  my new bosses and folks at the school. They seem very cool. Had a pretty good lunch in town with one of my bosses -- lots of hot peppers and hot sauce, fish I've never heard of, skinny green beans, weird cold pork soup, and RICE. My boss picked up the tab, but don't think it was too expensive. Lots of scooters and SARS masks here. SARS masks are used to keep out dust and sun, I was told. I'm teaching 3 classes tomorrow, so it's time to lesson plan. Miss the folks in Peru (students call the teachers "teacher" here as well), and of course I miss my family and friends in the U.S. But this place has a pretty good vibe.

Leaving ..... again

Another six months in Peru, and another departure with mixed emotions. I think I'm finally better understanding the life and rhythms here. So I guess that means it's time to move on. What I'll take away most from my stay in Peru is the generosity of the people I've met here, especially the students. Sure, thieves stole my laptop and two cameras, but crime is universal. But the students here bought me lunches, dinners, gifts, and they gave me sage advice like, "Don't leave your laptop unattended." I'll miss the students more than anything or anybody here. Next, I'll miss the weather. It's perfect everyday. You could live in shorts and a T-shirt year-round. The locals complain about the cold .... a crisp 45-55 at night, but I'm telling you, this is the best weather on the planet. I'll miss the food a little, but US food ain't shabby. I'd like to open an anticuchos stand and pisco sour bar in the US one day. Maybe when I move to Key West, Fla. I won't miss the people cutting in line, or bumping you on the street. Everyone's always in a hurry here, and they're always late. It's a cultural thing.
I'll be back in the U.S. for three weeks and then I'm flying to Vietnam to teach in Bien Hoa, which is very close to Ho Chi Ming City. I'm looking forward to the new job and challenge (my new boss seems really cool, just like my boss here), but I'm sure I'll look back more than once and realize how good I had it in Peru.