Aging in Vietnam

Birthdays, like death, are inevitable. I had one Friday. Normally, I don't like my birthday, but now that I can share it with my beloved Phuong, getting older isn't so terrible. I don't know about death yet, but I'll find out eventually. Like I tell my students, "We're all going to die. Everyone in this room will die." The students always laugh when I say this, for some reason, so it's all OK.
I returned to the USA for a few weeks and had a fine time, but the chilly weather was a little rough for me. I've been in the heat of Vietnam so long that my body is starting to change a little. Actually, I came back to Vietnam Dec. 10 and found the warmth quite enjoyable. December is a good month weather-wise here. People still cut in line and ride their bikes like knuckleheads, but I'm no longer shocked by any of this. I still say "please" and "thank you," by the way.
I saw my children and they're all doing great. Jessica let me stay at her house in Delaware, Ohio, and it's a neat place. She's doing well. So is Caroline, who has a new job and looks fantastic. Jack is busy as hell at law school and with his accounting business. Alec is wonderful, enjoying life as he always does.  Friends Ron, John, Tommy and Andy were quite gracious and hospitable. My brother Tom put me up for about a week and beat my old ass in tennis twice. I blame my glasses and poor vision, so once I get contact lenses, I'll destroy him on the courts. My ex-wife Lynda cooked a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner which I enjoyed with the kids.
I didn't like driving a car in the U.S. because of traffic, the little car I had (my fault for making a poor choice), and my vision. I went to the eye doctor and she wants to do a little work on my eyes next year. Can't wait. Otherwise, no issues. My house looks good, Yellow Springs was chill as usual, and Glen Helen was awesome as usual.
The highlight of my trip was coming back to Phuong in Vietnam. She was waiting for me at Tan Son Nhat airport in Ho Chi Minh City. We hugged and kissed in the car -- like teenagers -- the entire ride back to Bien Hoa.
I start work on Monday, and I really look forward to seeing the students again. I missed teaching, but enjoyed the time off. Needed a break. Now I'll take by jet-lagged butt to bed. It takes a week or so to adjust to the change of time and whatnot. But I'm back home with Phuong and teaching again, so life is good. Too bad we're all going to die.

Fix-it for cheap

Three times in the past month I've been wowed by the work of Vietnamese fix-it folk. I rolled over on my glasses and snapped a tiny wire that held my left lense in place. My eyes are about as good as my Vietnamese, so I had to do something. I have spare glasses, but the prescriptions are weak, and that's a guaranteed disaster on the motorbike here. But my fiance Phuong took the glasses and lense to a shop she knows and the guy was able to replace the tiny wire and secure the lense in less than an hour at a cost of 10,000 dong, which is about 50 cents U.S. Amazing. The soles were coming off my beloved sneakers that my daughter Jessica picked out for me in the U.S. (The heat is rough on shoes here.) I was ready to toss them, but fiance Phuong came to the rescue again. She knows a shoe repairman in the Bien Hoa Market area and he replaced both soles ... for about $2 U.S., or 40,000 dong. As some of my Vietnamese students like to say: "Unbelievable!" Finally, my room air conditioner wasn't giving me the big chill I wanted, but guess what? Phuong knew a cleaning service that came out to my house and spent more than a hour washing and scrubbing and adjusting the air conditioner. Now my room is an icebox and I love it. Oh, and it cost 60,000 dong or so -- $3. In my opinion, there's no such thing as too cool. All the repairmen did good work, and they were prompt and friendly. And of course, Phuong is perhaps the most wonderful human being on planet Earth. But I notice that almost everyone here likes to tinker. My students break toys I bring to class, and then they fool around with them for a short while and fix them. They're patient and clever, two attributes I'm sadly lacking as I muddle through life.
I'm in a good food rhythm here now that I've overcome food poisoning at an outdoor restaurant. And it only took me five days to get better. The chicken here is awesome, the pork is fantastic, and the clams and oyster are excellent and reasonably priced. Phuong is a great cook, so I'm blessed again. The beef here is pretty mediocre, but I'll eat it once in a while because I like meat.
There is a down side to having a beautiful and talented and wonderful fiance. A lot of Vietnamese men come on very strong to Phuong. They're a-holes of course and Phuong is very cool about it. She basically tells the guys that she's married and that they can go home to their wives, mom, or grandma. Or all three. Of course the chuckleheads do this crap in front of me, but they speak Vietnamese with smirky smiles on their smirky faces. I guess I deserve it for having such a beautiful fiance, but I don't like it. Phuong tells me to chill out, so I go to my bedroom and turn the air-conditioner down real low.
Phuong and I were playing tennis today, and the doubles teams that took the court in front of us included two guys who smoked cigarettes while they played. I should have taken a picture, but I was too busy smoking a cigarette after I thoroughly thrashed Phuong in tennis. Actually, we just volleyed and it was great fun, except for the incredible heat. I drank four bottles of tea and lemonade afterwards.
Classes are going well, even though they're quite plentiful at the moment. But I'm gearing up for my trip to the U.S. next week, so all is well. I'm very sad Phuong isn't coming with me this time, but that will make returning to Vietnam wonderful. I'll miss her so much.

A sick man, indeed

I insisted Phuong join me for dinner at a local dive where I know a couple of people. The place is a little sketchy and the food is so-so at best, but the owner and her daughter are friends of mine. So we went there last Wednesday night. The place is a sometimes hooker hangout, and the male patrons are chuckleheads to say the least. Phuong was wisely reluctant, but I sort of insisted ... so we went. The song You're in the Army Now was looping on the sound system there so we heard it about 15 to 20 times during our dinner of beef, french fries and something Phuong called kettle fish. The good news: The hooker count was low and the chuckleheads didn't hassle us. The bad news: We both got incredible cases of food poisoning. My case was a little more incredible. I'm still quite ill and it's Sunday. Phuong got better quickly. Part of the issue for me is that I'm working so much -- 30 hours of classroom time with some travel on a motorbike and in a car thrown in for good measure. Also, I've got some new children's classes and it's taking time to get them used to my way of teaching. We're slowly starting to mesh but it's been a rocky ride. Ah, that's just shop talk anyway. Who cares?
Phuong is catholic, and I want to support her the way she supports me, so I've been going to mass on Sundays. Bien Hoa has quite a few catholics because the government sent them all here after the U.S. left Vietnam in the early 1970s. At least that's what I've been told. Anyway, mass in Vietnam reminds me of mass in the U.S. about 55 years ago. No one smiles or talks in church. No one. You can't cross your legs. You kneel a lot. The service in very long -- about 70 or 75 minutes. There is a lot of singing, and the words are on TV monitors throughout the church. People still cut you off on their motorbikes when they literally race for a parking space before mass, then they solemnly march into the church. And they cut you off again when they race like heaven out of the parking lot. I mentioned the grim mood of the service to some people and they looked at me like I was out of my sacrilegious mind. "Of course no one smiles," one woman said to me. "It's a church service. We go to worship." OK. I was a catholic school castoff twice in my youth, but I'm doing my best to hang in there with mass. I truly love Phuong.
I'm getting excited about returning to the U.S. in a couple of weeks or so. Can't wait to see my children, and friends, and my house in Yellow Springs. I'm incredibly disappointed Phuong can't join me on this trip, but we'll get to the U.S. together one day. Hopefully sooner rather than later.
I'll finish with some shocking news: It's still hot as hell here, but my godawful skin rash has finally cleared up.  I'll have to bring back another souvenir when I return to the U.S.

Take a bath or go outside

We've been having incredibly hard rainfalls daily. On Thursday, I was taking a walk and it was pouring. The Vietnamese looked at me like I was walking on water, not in water. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Rain really rattles folk here. When the locals standing in their doorways saw me walking in the rain, they urged me to get inside. Almost pleaded with me. Those who could speak English said I'll get sick. I've had this argument before, but in my view illness comes from viruses and bacteria and stuff like that, not from rain. I guess you could be more vulnerable to sickness if you're wet and cold, but cold isn't a problem for me here. It is for some of my students. One girl, about 20, asked me to turn off the air conditioner in my classroom because she was cold. I saw that she had a jacket and wasn't wearing it, so I told her to put it on and be strong. She put it on and shivered the final 8 minutes of class. Maybe she got caught in the rain earlier that day. I have no clue. The other 14 students were quite content in the air-conditioned classroom, so I went with the odds. And teaching in a hot room is no fun at all.
My fiance Phuong was in a motorbike accident a week or so ago. Scared me to death. She got a nasty gash on her ankle, which swelled up to softball size, and her little toe looked like a sausage. She wouldn't get stitches, so she'll have a big scar. Otherwise, she is fine. Accidents are quite routine since people routinely ignore traffic laws. Knuckleheads run through red lights and ride on the sidewalks all the time. It's like Death Race 2000.
I'm still battling heat rash. I've been losing this battle for about six months. I'm sure the rash will come to the U.S. with me in November.  Phuong says the rash is the Vietnamese souvenir I can bring back to the states. I told Phuong that I'll show the rash to my family at Thanksgiving dinner, but she wasn't too keen on the idea.
Working quite a bit lately -- had 15 classes with a couple of new children's classes one week. One of the kids' classes was difficult until my boss came in and really helped me out. I owe her.
Can't wait to visit family and friends in November, but I'll really, really, really miss Phuong. Hell, I miss her when I go to work, so 20 days in the U.S. will seem like forever. We try not to dwell on that topic.
I didn't care much for Vietnamese food until I tasted Phuong's cooking. And her mom is even better. They make octopus, snails, oysters, all kinds of stuff that's outstanding. I still bring ABC Bakery items to the neighbors but they don't have to cook for me anymore. I take ABC pastries and pizzas to the staff at my coffee shop -- most of whom are university students -- and they're so appreciative.  Man, I like that. Giving is so much better than receiving no matter what anybody says.
One more time I want to thank teacher Joy for all her help. She's bailed me out countless times with advice or a spare worksheet. Joy rocks.

The luckiest man alive

I guess the big news, for me anyway, is that I'm engaged to be married. The divorce engagement comes later. Just kidding, Phuong. My neighbor Phuong and I became friends first. We talked and laughed about a big banana I put on her plate (trying to be nice), and we shared whatever we had with each other. I never thought I would marry again after divorcing 15 or so years ago. But I never thought I would meet someone like Phuong -- caring, smart, funny patient, and willing to compromise. And she's beautiful as well. I won't lie: I'm lucky and I know it and I will do my very best to make this wonderful woman happy.
Peru had the world's most aggressive mosquitoes. They were small, fast and nasty. In Vietnam, the ants are the nemesis. I put food on my kitchen table, walked to the living room to turn on the TV, and came back to the kitchen to find my sandwich covered with ants. They're not bad with mustard. Actually, they're everywhere -- in my bed, on my arms, in my underpants.
The gay community here is pretty much underground. No one talks about gays, other than an occasional tasteless joke. Even those are rare. But a few men have made their intentions all too clear to me. I don't care about the political views, religious views or sexual preferences of others until they try to force them on me. A few men here were quite aggressive with me, hassling me in a sauna room and at a restaurant. But I've had nothing but trouble at the outdoor restaurants here anyway. One guy followed me on his motorbike and almost caused a crash with me. I was pissed, and I considered clocking him, but then reconsidered because I don't want any police involvement. It's unfortunate when folks use aggressive tactics to satisfy whatever it is they're trying to satisfy. It's happened to me in the USA  and Peru as well. Don't like it.
Three foreign teachers have left my company, so I'm working a lot. No problem, although the young kids' classes are tiring. It's all good ... VMG treats me well. Any foreign teachers interested in applying should contact VMG in Bien Hoa ... quickly.

Buy local

I've been a good guest here for the most part in terms of purchases. I buy local unless I'm desperate or I want food that isn't hot soup, or doesn't have rice, noodles or fish oil. But some stuff doesn't last. I've gone through four sets of headphones and I've had to buy the same computer cable four times. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe the wires melt. I have no idea, but headphones and cables lose connection after about a month. I bought a squirt gun and toy organ from a street vendor and realized later that both products were made in, gasp!, China. I'm not political or very bright for that matter, but even I realize you don't buy from the neighbors to the north. The squirt gun and organ are still working, but I'll destroy them soon. If I don't destroy them, the kids who come to my house will.
Three sisters -- ages 8, 9 and 11 -- come to my house quite often. Two of them have terrible coughs. I give them fruit and orange juice every time they come, but the coughs persist. Their father, who's under 30 years old, comes to get them at night sometimes. He stands or squats outside my house, always shirtless, and screams for them while he plays with his cell phone. He doesn't look at or acknowledge me. Well, actually, he gives me a Clint Eastwood-like glare once in a while, but I get that all the time from just about all the men here. Sometimes the girls ignore him and just stay at my place until I boot them. It's all a little weird to me, but maybe I don't understand the culture. I've been told that many times. The sisters have two brothers, about 3 and 4, and they try to come into my house. They fall into the "too young" category.  I'll give them a little candy and try to send them home, but they stand outside my house and scream, and I mean scream:  "What your name, where you from?" They'll do this for 30 minutes or so while they pound on my glass doors. No point trying to explain the situation to shirtless-Clint Eastwood-dad. Even with this little bit of strangeness, I really enjoy the kids' visits. A highlight of my stay in Vietnam.
My neighbors across the street gave me dessert tonight -- a jello and custard mix -- and it was awesome.  My other neighbor made incredible spaghetti the other day for me. It had seafood and tomatoes instead of traditional sauce. Great stuff. I'm also treated to some special coffee from a really special and cool neighbor. All is fine on the food front when it comes from the neighbors or Metro supermarket.
I had yet another motorbike accident tonight, but it was very minor. A girl rode into my back tire. All is well. I only mention it to remind myself never to let my guard down on the bike. A one-second distraction, like adjusting your mirror, can be catastrophic. No one respects the rules of the road, or demonstrates any road etiquette whatsoever, unless a cop happens to be there.
Students remain fantastic and classes are going well. At least for me. I can't speak for the students. I am a little tired. I've worked six days a week for seven months with no real break. The hours aren't long, and the classes are enjoyable, but that's a long stretch.
I am quite homesick these days. Really miss family and friends. Looking forward to my trip back in November.
Some friends are pressuring me to quit smoking. I'm trying and failing at the moment.
 

Quality of life

I'm finally getting the visiting children situation under control. The entrance way in my house, where I park my bike, is now the kids' zone. There are puzzles, crayons, a game or two, and clay. To enter, you have be 7 or older. And kids can't come past the couch into my kitchen or beyond without special written consent. A couple of real little guys were wandering in, and it made me uncomfortable. They're banned. The visitors are wonderful. They cheered when I rather quickly cut a carrot down to size for stew. The only parent I have met is Huong's mom, a nice lady who suggested English lessons for Huong. I tried to tell mom that Huong comes over to play with the toys and watch some TV, and that she wasn't interested in having English lessons. Huong, who's 7, is remarkably well-behaved and fun-loving. She's one of the awesome neighbors I have. Clearly, along with the students, my neighbors are one of the highlights of living in Bien Hoa. They give me food and drinks, and they're always willing to help. Phuong and her family have improved my quality of life, although I do spend lots of money at their store. It's worth it.
Actually, many people want English lessons from the White Monkey.  Or they want a freebie now and then. I don't mind chatting with the "now and then" crowd if we have a coffee or something, but I don't give formal lessons. With my job, I don't think I can. I don't want to anyway. The job is great and it keeps me pretty busy. Best of all, VMG has been good to me.
I'm glad I found my supermarket, which carries tons of food I recognize. It's a taste of home. I'll be honest: I'm not enamored with the local cuisine. The street food in Peru was much better. But to be fair, I'm still learning my way around here, and I've had a few fantastic local dishes lately -- the neighbors made some great pho and passion fruit juice. My problem: I don't care for rice and I don't like real chewy seafood.
The mix of cars and motorbikes here isn't a good one. People drive cars like they're on a motorbike. They rarely signal, cut you off in a heartbeat, and pull out on you like you're not there. It adds a whole new dimension to defensive driving. No wonder I'm so happy in the classroom.
Booked a flight back to the U.S. and I'll be there over Thanksgiving. Really looking forward to seeing my family, especially my children -- Jessica, Caroline, Jack and Alec. Can't wait to see some old friends as well. 

You dirty rat

 The White Monkey loves all of God's creatures, but that doesn't mean he will give them a free place to stay and eat. So imagine my surprise when I finally got around to cleaning my house and found a rat living under my couch. My new best friend Huong, 7, was in my house playing with clay and looking in my refrigerator when I saw the rat while I was cleaning. The rat wouldn't come out from under the couch, so I dragged the couch to my front door (with Huong sitting on it laughing), and pushed the rat outside with a broom. The rat acted a little dopey, like maybe it was dying, but I'm glad I spotted it. I always wondered who was watching TV when I was upstairs late at night. My neighbor across the street used two leaves and picked up the rat by its tail and moved it so I could get a better picture. Thoughtful neighbor. Inconsiderate rat. My house is clean again and all (or most) of God's creatures are living outside. By the way, the rat was much quieter than the kids who come visit.
I've had better weeks at work. A boy in a kids class imitated and mimicked everything I said in a Donald Duck voice. I tolerated it at first, but asked him to stop. After the 33rd time he did it, I sent him out of class for a minute to cool off. He was OK but his buddy in class decided to act up. Ugh. Once everybody settled down, class was over. Since these guys have no English, class rules don't mean much. I act the rules out and I think they get it, but they can always claim they didn't understand me.  Regardless, no one leaves the room unless they ask. If they just walk out, which they tried to do, the White Monkey turns red and beats his chest. Later, when I was complaining about having to wait nearly 30 minutes for a ride, one girl who I won't identify, tells me I should go back to the U.S. I later explained in a somewhat agitated manner that in the USA, in my culture, it's rude to make someone wait when you tell them a time to be somewhere. The girl, who I still won't identify, tells me: "This isn't your culture. You're in our culture, Vietnamese culture."  OK, but why have schedules then? I know the students expect me to be on time. They can be late because they pay, but I can't be late because I'm getting paid.  Whatever. The kids are still great, the classes and students are still great, and my neighborhood and neighbors are great. I'm sure locals think I'm a whiner, which I am sometimes (it must be my culture), but I'm a whiner who shows up on time.
My spending spree continues.  After I bought the iPod, I purchased an iPad (Apple notebook-type thingy) from my neighbor Phuong. She's been very helpful, assisting me in transferring data from my laptops to the iPad.  She's not quite super cool yet, but she's getting there. Phuong's mom made me some wonderful coffee, so mom is close to super cool.
I love the numbers song, and so do my students. Well, most of them. It's the song where they sing all the numbers to 100, then go up to 1 trillion. The reason I mention this is because I'm about to hit a milestone -- 10,000 page views for my blog. I know my blog kinda sucks, but some people like to keep in touch or they're curious about the White Monkey. I've had hits from countless countries, including Sweden, Norway,  Peru, Russia, Germany, Egypt, Algeria. Everywhere, really. The Vietnamese are the most loyal readers these days, and the USA has provided the most page views overall. I thank each and every person who has clicked on my blog and read my boring, self-centered, poorly worded, inconsequential drivel. THANK YOU ONE AND ALL!!!

Cool

I bought an iPod and it's changed my life. No longer do I hear "What your name? How are you? Where you from?"  I understand that most of these folks want to be friendly to the White Monkey, but sometimes I just want to take a walk or have coffee or have dinner without providing an impromptu English lesson or engage in very basic conversation. I'm thinking of getting cards printed: John. Fine, thank you. USA.
Really, walking is the best way to get around and see the city, where there are countless coffee shops and Karaoke bars. Since I have the music on and I'm wearing pretty big headphones, fewer people shout at me.  Some guys scream and try to break through my sound barrier, but it ain't happening. The town has some hidden gems, like a well-stocked jewelry store, pastry shops, nurseries, bookstores, and food everywhere. The prices are reasonable. Do I miss the sounds of the city with music cranked up? Hell no. I enjoy not listening to the buzz of motorbikes. The sights and dirty air are enough for me at this time.
My neighbor Phuong went from cool to way cool when she gave me an iPod cover (photo on right). She was cool when she got rid of a virus/bug on my computer. The iPod cover -- way cool. Her mom made me lunch today, and it was great. Noodles with beef, garlic, onion and tomato. I've said it before several times, but really, my neighbors are super people. I feel very lucky, except when the local kids come and hassle me. But they're fun, I like them, and they leave when I tell them to in my pathetic Vietnamese.
My new kids class went from quiet and really reserved to, well, a kids class. And that's great news. They're fun, silly, a little noisier, and a joy to teach. Seriously, I was a little worried about them at first. Once, I told them they could do some puzzles or work with clay, and they just sat there. So I emptied the bags I brought onto the floor. The clay and puzzles spilled out, and the kids timidly got up and eventually settled in with the stuff.  It took a little time, but we're buddies now. Seeing a positive change in kids makes teaching the best job I've ever had. I had one little girl who seemed a little angry and didn't do much work. With a little extra attention and encouragement, we've bonded and she's become one of my top students. That's why I love my job, whether it's here, Peru or the USA.
Speaking of the USA, I've been homesick lately. When I go home in November, that'll cure me. Really miss seeing my kids, although I realize they're incredibly busy. Yet another shout-out to Ron for keeping my cat alive. Actually, for keeping HIS cat alive. After my family, Ron is one of the reasons I miss the USA.
Rainy season is hot and heavy these days. There are daily downpours, followed by beautiful heat and humidity.  I love the rain. The locals hate it and complain about being cold when it rains. I guess it's what you're used to.
I stopped getting massages. Too complicated.

Head-on collision

I was leaving work last week at 6 p.m. or so because my next class wasn't until 7:30. So I had to cross the very busy street in front of our school. Traffic laws in Vietnam are like marriage vows. Everyone knows them and everyone ignores them, except lawyers, cops and ex-wives. So I'm working my way across the street through a steady stream of traffic. It's standard practice here. The bikes swerve around you and eventually you'll merge into your targeted lane, which is another thrilling adventure. This time, however, as I rode into the oncoming traffic, a bike swerved around me but a tailgater didn't see me and we banged into each other head-on.  Our bikes went down, but both of us were standing. His bike's front fender was shattered into little pieces all over the road. My bike was fine. He stood glaring for a moment, but I simply motioned to the sidewalk and said  "over there." We pushed our bikes through the traffic to the sidewalk. After a 30-second inspection of our bikes, we shrugged and went our merry ways. He refused my offer of money for his fender. What a cool guy. No injuries, no problem.
A couple of former students went to dinner with me last week. I had on white pants and a white shirt with blue stripes. When I met one of the students, Valentine, near the restaurant, she looked at my outfit and said: "You really are a white monkey."  Funny kid.
I had a young kids class today. When I first taught them a few weeks ago, they were eerily quiet and well-behaved for 8 and 9 year olds. Children of the corn? A few weeks with me and that's all changed. We had to have a short class meeting today about asking for permission to leave the room and using our "inside voices".   Regardless, these kids speak good English when they want to and they leave the room immaculate after playing with clay and anything else. One of the kids gave me her ruler as a gift. She is now my favorite student :).  Great class.
I'm happy here, but I do get irritated when I have to wait for people when I'm told to be somewhere at a certain time. I'm there, but the other party isn't. I'm waiting in the heat -- it's about 94 or so everyday with 85 percent humidity.  Then when the other person arrives late, they ask me why I'm sweating. Or they say I appear to be in a bad mood. Then they tell me to hurry up because WE'RE late. When you're old like me, you realize life is shorter and waiting doesn't figure into the schedule. OK, I'm done whining now, but I'm still sweating.
I bought an ipod but don't have a clue how to use it. My neighbor Phuong, who sold me the thing, has been very helpful. But like any good tech person, she does stuff really fast and seems confused I'm not following along well.
The staff is going on a 3-day holiday to the beach next week. I'm staying in Bien Hoa, so they scheduled me to work a full week, I guess.  Keep the White Monkey busy. Khong sao.

Embarrassing day

I do not like to write too much but I have to mention some embarrassing things that happened to me yesterday before I forget them.  Not likely, but possible.
First, I was in the bathroom upstairs, doing what all of us do in a bathroom. While I'm sitting on the throne and checking phone messages, the bathroom door opens and one of the neighborhood boys, about 6, is standing there talking to me in Vietnamese. I asked him to hand me the toilet paper, but he ignored me and kept talking. I told him to di di di. He di-ed and I finished my business. Later, another boy, about 9, came into my bedroom as I sat naked on my bed applying lotion to my many rashes. I chased him out as well. Later, I gathered all the neighborhood kids to my living room, and acted out that it's OK to come into my house and living room, but tre em (children) DO NOT COME UPSTAIRS. I still won't lock my front door, and I think the kids understood my message. They're great kids ... downstairs.
Later that night, I taught a bunch of 20-year-olds. With my zipper down most of the class. This class is awesome, and I think they like me. I don't know now. Maybe they like me more, but I doubt it. I asked why they didn't say something to me, and they said they couldn't remember the word for zipper.
Earlier, an administrator sent me a text telling me what pages to teach in the nearby town of Long Thanh.  But she didn't send the message to me. She sent it to someone else. The someone else took offense, for some odd reason, and wrote back: BAD WORD-You. The administrator thought I wrote the nasty reply and began asking folk what was wrong with John. The White Monkey is usually so gentle, so she was confused. It all got straightened out, eventually, so I went to the bathroom and pulled my zipper up.
All in a day.

Coke for a wedding gift?

Coca-Cola has a nifty promotion here, They put Vietnamese names, like Phuong or Thao, on the cans and plastic. They make for an inexpensive gift, but that comes with a risk. I gave a can to the girl who gives me a massage, and now she's planning the wedding. Another lady was planning our wedding, but no worries. I'm pretty sure she has a boyfriend, and she doesn't show up for our dates. Relationships are a trip here. The language barrier contributes to the misunderstandings, I'm sure, I've written about love and like before, and some of the girls don't know the difference ... or care. The White Monkey is much wiser these days.
The neighborhood kids are pretty comfortable with the White Monkey and his athletic equipment. I'll give the girls some papers to color, and I need to get some crayons for them. If they are coloring or playing sports, they're not teasing the White Monkey. But the kids are great. They'll just walk into my house and start poking around. They take the balls out to play, but they always return them. Good kids. One boy came up to my bedroom while I was getting ready for work. I chased him out, but I still don't lock my door when I'm home. I know I'm inviting trouble, but I don't care. If I have to live behind locked doors in the day, why live? I could do something really fun or stupid, go to prison, and live behind locked doors the rest of my life. I'm not ready for that ... yet.
Speaking of comfortable, two women go through the neighborhood and collect plastic. I guess they take it somewhere for money. The women sit on my front step and wait for me, ask for food, drink, and money ... and plastic.  I give them plastic and drinks, but no food or money. I guess I could spare some bread or something, but I don't want them there all the time,  so... no food or money. The younger girl in the plastic pair has started acting flirty with me, like that's going to change my mind. It's not working. I'm such a wise White Monkey.
Rainy season is really rainy right now. Every day there's a downpour, so I put on the raincoat and ride the bike. I still get wet, but when it rains, it's usually much cooler (85-90 degrees). I like the rain, but the Vietnamese seem to believe it brings bad luck and illness. I disagree, but this ain't my country. I still say Please, Excuse me, Thank You and You're welcome. What the hell do I know?
My skin continues to give me difficulties from the heat and sweating when I teach in hot classrooms. Without too much gruesome detail, let me just say that I'm a walking rash. Everywhere. I use salt when I shower, and that seems to be helping somewhat.  That's my late dad's idea. Too bad he's not alive. I could thank him.
Classes are good, and the coffee shop is good. I've begun taking walks around the neighborhood, and other than the silly HELLO, HOW ARE YOU? it's quite enjoyable. Afterwards, I soak in salt.
I'll keep working on my skin and relationships until I leave this place. I have a target date to quit smoking, but I've never let that stop me before. I hate quitters.

Police and a bed

The intersections here are a bit of a free-for-all. And the way the traffic is structured, there may be as many as six or eight different lights at an intersection. The locals, of course, understand the system and road structure even though they sometimes ignore both. The White Monkey, however, can get a little confused. I was surrounded by bikes the other night, and one of the lights where I was waiting turned green. All the traffic moves and I follow, like a good monkey. But the bikes all turn right and I'm going straight. So ... I go straight, and apparently run through one of the five or six red lights I ignored. Of course, there are two cops waiting for me as I run through the red. As soon as I pull over, one of the cops shines his flashlight on me and starts yelling. My Vietnamese is only a little better than it was 16 months ago, but I did understand him when he screamed red. He was the "bad cop". I ignored him and turned my attention to the "good cop". I explained in crystal clear English that I saw one of the lights turn green and got confused. He stared at me for a few seconds, then waved me on with a disgusted look on his face. Now that's a good cop.  Once again, following the crowd gets me in trouble. I know people complain about cops, but these guys did OK by me.
 One aspect of life here has changed for the better -- I bought a real bed. Spending money is a joyous occasion. I love it, and I love my new bed. I do my work on the bed, sometimes I sleep there, and best of all, I don't have to climb to my feet from a mattress on the floor to get something in my room. I can just stand up. White monkeys do that from time to time.
Yesterday, I was in my living room counting money in my wallet because I needed to buy some printer ink. I look up and see my neighbor -- in his living room across the street -- watching me count money. He gives me a thumbs-up and a whoops loud enough for me to hear through two sets of closed glass doors. Amazing.
Speaking of printer ink (always a hot topic at the coffee shops), I had to go to five stores yesterday before I found my brand -- the very obscure brand name of Canon. The store where I got the printer doesn't carry the ink anymore. Ugh!
My coffee shop is still rockin' and classes are very good. I'm off today, so I'm just going to lie (I don't think it's lay) on my bed and stare at the mirror on the ceiling. I don't have a mirror on my ceiling.

Politics and keeping it cool

Our province, Dong Nai, made international news last week because of the protests over China's oil drilling near the disputed Paracel Islands. Vietnam and China both claim the islands, and therein lies the dispute. Nationalist fervor is running quite high in Vietnam. I'm not a political person, although I do think Obama is a great president. The Vietnamese clamped down on the protests because of violence and vandalism. All is calm now. I was given a couple of Vietnamese flags to display, but since I want to stay out of the public eye, I hung them in my room, not out of my window. Of course, I support Vietnam. I live here and they pay me, and lately, folks have been rather nice to me. The White Monkey is on their side. Vietnam may take China to international court over the disputed islands.
There's a rat that freely roams our neighborhood day and night. It's a big rascal, so I consider it a community pet rather than a scary nuisance. It ran under my legs as I was sitting on the front steps of my house. And I mean under my legs. It wasn't scared, either. It got into my kitchen once when I left the back door open. I petted it a little and sent it on its way. Good rat. 
The heat has been, well, hot lately. Right now it's 97 degrees fahrenheit and "feels like" 109. Humidity is 47 percent, and usually runs a bit higher. I sweat constantly, but since I've been drinking lots of cokes and stuff, my weight is increasing. I'm bloated like a hippo, but it's so dang hot, I don't care. The heat has mildly affected the students, who seem a little sluggish even though the Vietnamese are clearly better adapted to these conditions than the White Monkey. Understandable that they're uncomfortable, but classes are going well. Kids classes are awesome.
I went to see the 3-D movie Godzilla with my F3A3 class at the local cinema -- or as I call it,  the internet/chat room at CinePlex. The F3A3 kids got tickets as a prize for their outstanding efforts in the Go Green competition. I had to pay for my ticket. Before the movie, I got the kids some drinks: they had Red Bull, Sting, soda and coffee. They're 10, 11, and 12 years old. We had a blast! We walked to the cinema, and hung out, and did the usual kids' stuff before and after the movie. I felt young again -- not a day over 58. That was the first 3-D I've ever seen, and it was very cool. The subtitles hung in mid-air. Wow!
Riding the bike is no longer an adventure. It's a pain in the ass, just like driving a car in the U.S. I even answered my cell phone while riding the other day. What a jerk I am! I can smoke and ride, also. Aren't you going to congratulate me?
I need to buy some furniture because sleeping and lesson planning on a foam mattress on the floor isn't working. I "talked" to a local shop owner, and I agreed to buy a desk, but the chair didn't work out. Maybe next time.
I love my coffee shop -- with servers Nguyen and Nguyen -- because they know what I want and the customers leave me alone, which is the big plus. I don't want to teach English after I finish teaching English. I do hear lots of sad stories from the young girls here, who all love me. But even if the stories aren't true, it's sad the girls would make something like that up. The decisions these girls make to earn money can be distressing, to say the very least.
But my focus is teaching and the students, and that's what keeps me smiling. No sob story here. At least not today.

Sleep forever

I was reviewing a little vocabulary the other day with a mid-level class and I asked them: "What is death?" It was in one of our stories, so don't think I'm morbid or weird. I'm both, but you don't have to think it. I was wondering how I would answer when one of the students blurted out: "It's when you sleep forever." That's one of the reasons why I love teaching. What a great answer. Now, our class joke is: "I'm going home and going to sleep .... forever."
My Bien Hoa neighbors are almost too nice, if that's possible. I said almost because I always accept what they offer, from bananas and local exotic fruits,  to wedding anniversary soup and French bread and iced coffee. Delivery is free. I've never had neighbors this nice anywhere in the world. The traffic comes by and the riders still stare and say silly "Hello's" and "How are you's?" to me, and now the neighbors smile, as if they understand the perils of being a white monkey. The massage girl loves the white monkey moniker because of my body hair, but I don't like when she tries to pluck my body hair out. It's not nice to tease the white monkey. The Vietnamese are just about hairless, and a good wind could blow the whiskers off the guys' faces.
We had our Go Green competition at our school, with the finals at the VMG Cambridge ceremony. Honestly, I'm glad it's over. It became something of an obsession, with winning being very, very, very, very important. Understand ? (hieu?). My F3A2 class -- kids from 10 -12 years old -- came in second. I think we were the youngest group. I really don't care how we finished because these students understand Ladies First and Clean Up Your Mess. We had pizza to celebrate the fact they learned the important lessons. Great kids, one and all. And they get it.
After more than a year here, I've learned the flow and some important lessons. I'm too big to park my motorbike where everyone else does, because I can never get it out without knocking over other bikes. Kind of like Pee Wee Herman in that one funny movie he made. Don't carry much money. People love to look in your wallet, so I fill my wallet with rubber bands. Don't stare back at the gawkers. It only encourages a longer stare. The head-down nod seems to work best.  Don't tip like you are in the USA. People, especially the young girls, will think you have money, and they'll bother you and ask for your phone number.  They don't actually like the white monkey, but they love the white money. Of course, this is not everyone. But it exists and it's reality. The white monkey doesn't lie, or tip like he used to. The kids here can fix anything. When something breaks in class, I ask the students to deal with it because I'll just screw it up. Don't drink the tap water. Best of all, the folks here don't hold a grudge -- at least 99 percent don't. You can have "a moment" with someone in a store or at work, and the next time you see them it's like it never happened. I love that.

I love you, I love you, I love you

Yeu va tien. Life here requires an open mind ... and heart ... and wallet. I've already had three girls tell me they love me. Well, of course they do. At least they waited a week or so before they made this dramatic proclamation. I'm not sure these women understand the full impact of this statement. Or maybe it's a language thing. Really, I just don't know. I think "thich" means like, but it has stronger implications, according to some of my students, who I really thich. Anyway, I've had about 15 "I love you's" in a little more than a year. That's more than I got in 15 or so years of marriage ... just kidding, sort of. My marriage ended in divorce because I was a turd. But I digress. The thing you learn as an old fart is that something as strong as love takes time. I draw a graph for the students, showing how affection develops and grows over time. I know there's love at first sight and things like that, but that works best in books and movies. But it's tricky. "I love pizza." But not as a life-long partner to share my life and bed. However, I do wonder what the kids would look like?  Language and feelings are so difficult to express sometimes.
Ah, but everyone understands tien ... money.  We love money, don't we? I get it. Being poor sucks, sucks, sucks. But when money motivates "love", I have a bad feeling in my heart and wallet. I had a job making good money in the USA and I was very unhappy. I worked at a nature center for quite a bit less money and I was very happy. But that's me. Money comes and money goes, whether it's a lot or a little. There isn't much money here for a lot of the people, so I understand. Life can be very difficult for these folks and they make tough decisions. Sometimes, it makes me sad.
Speaking of money, I want to quit cigarettes but they're so damn cheap here. Look at the picture and caption. Not many people speak English here, so I am alone a lot, in a manner of speaking. But I'm not completely alone since I have 555 to keep me company. Is it worth dying for?  Co the ... maybe. We all die anyway.
Sorry for the weird blog. See what happens when you're alone a lot? But really, I love you guys. 

It all adds up

The woman who runs the little general store next to my wonderful new house is impressed with my math. I always could do basic moron math pretty quickly in my head, so I can give her the cost and the change I'm due in an instant. (Money is king here, so that's a good skill to have.) That doesn't stop her from bringing out a small calculator to double-check my head math, and I'm always right except when she gets the English incorrect and tells me the tea cost 80,000 instead of 8,000. But I give this woman credit. She puts the correct numbers in the calculator even if she can't say them, and the totals match my head math. I can say all the Vietnamese numbers but no one understands me. I understand them however, and that's what really matters. The couple than runs a little shop next to our school encourage my Vietnamese and we work on numbers and adding together. They're great. My neighbor across our busy street is wonderful and brought me iced coffee tonight after I ate my dinner on the front step. I always eat on the front step because there's always a breeze off the Dong Nai river near my 'hood. Wonderful, even when the passers-by give me the ungodly white monkey stare when they ride by me. A couple of guys almost got into head-on collisions with oncoming traffic because they kept looking back at the white monkey as they rode down the road. The breeze is appreciated because it has been in the 90s every day with oppressive humidity. Lovely. The heat has even been bothering the Vietnamese, but they still wear hoodies and sweatshirts. Go figure.
I met a female and as soon as we had a couple of "dates" she made her move. She thought I liked her so she started asking via text for money. And jewelry. And money. How sad. And I thought she actually liked me. How sad.
One reassuring thing here is that kids are kids everywhere (as my mentor teacher Laurie Dewey wrote on one of my facebook pictures). There's attitude and all the other good stuff that comes with being 12 to 18 years old.  Gotta love it. The kids are great, and really I encourage the attitude with a little bit of a free-wheeling style of teaching. I don't like being a disciplinarian but I'll do what's necessary to keep order in the classroom. I found a new massage parlor -- the workers laughed at me at my old parlor when I got dizzy and almost fell over a box they left next to my feet. The new parlor is fine, but more expensive.
I'm more comfortable on the motorbike and know to expect the unexpected. But I never relax. Anywhere.

Life in the 'hood

Living in a Bien Hoa "neighborhood" is such an improvement over a hotel or ex-pat housing (white monkey cage). Once the neighbors get over the initial shock of seeing a white monkey coming and going at odd hours (because of my odd schedule hours), they're really great. When I first moved in, I gave everyone living near me pastries from ABC, and they acted a little confused. No smiles, nothing. What does the white monkey want? Nothing, really. Then I broke my automatic door by being stupid, and everyone came out to watch me struggle to get back into my house. They tried to help, but when you do something stupid you don't really want people climbing over you to help. The door is fixed, but I'm still stupid. Anyway, time seems to make things better. The staring stopped, and it was replaced by smiles and nods. The neighbors across the street gave me bananas and traditional Vietnamese food -- meat and mashed beans wrapped in rice that was green, probably from the beans. The whole thing, about the size of a sub, was wrapped in paper that was tied with string. Sorry, no picture because I ate it right away. I returned the favor with more pastries and this time there were thank-you's and smiles all around. It really makes a difference being part of a community, and I realized (with help from my sage friend Tom E.) that this is certainly  a more communal society than the U.S., or even Peru. People live close to each other here, and they do what they have to do to make it work. I get it.
Of course, this doesn't change the wretched motorbike riding, where what seems to work is "I get ahead, I get mine, and screw you." Same philosophy seems to hold true in certain stores, especially in line. The other day at the electronics store I frequent, however, a gentleman realized I had been waiting and he REFUSED to cut in front of me and told me to go ahead. First time in a year that's happened.  I wept openly.
But when you think about it, which is difficult for me sometimes, I recall drivers in the U.S. and Peru  being chuckleheads, and butting their butts in line or whatever.
I still don't go out much for fear of hassle I don't need or want, but I've developed a circle of stores and coffee shops that I trust. And they treat me well enough. I think every white person should go somewhere where they're really the minority (and not just a wealthy tourist) and feel the vibe others have to feel. There I go, thinking again.
Sad news: Three really nice staffers are leaving VMG. I will especially miss the beautiful Le Chinh :) and not only because she's beautiful. She was always very cheerful and helpful, even when I irritated her, which was every day.  Dorothy and Van are also leaving, and they're both very good people.  Later, guys.
It's been really hot here. In the 90s every day and guess what? It's humid. It makes me think of Arequipa, Peru, weather .... the best weather in the world. 

Happy days are here again

The great thing about the stock market is that it usually goes up after it hits rock bottom. This was true even after the Great Depression, like the one I had in Bien Hoa this past week. The rebound is in full force. First, my neighbors stopped staring at me. They, like everyone else in the world, probably realized I'm not much to look at. I've avoided the hot spots where people don't like me because, well, because I'm there and they don't like my face for whatever reason. I've minimized contact with people who seem irritated by my presence. Really, the nice people in Vietnam are some of the nicest people I've ever met anywhere in the world. (Knuckleheads are knuckleheads everywhere as well.) The guy at the nursery hooked me up with awesome plants and trees, then tied the stuff to my bike, which he then turned in the proper direction for me. The girls at the coffee shop actually know what I order and begin preparing it when my bike pulls up. I don't have to order. And they tease me about my Vietnamese in the most pleasant way. I'm drinking lots of coffee these days. A lady at Metro -- my new supermarket -- walked the entire store with me to help me find some items I needed for class. She must share my fondness for students. And my students are the greatest. I teach lots of different classes, and every class is a real pleasure. I honest-to-god look forward to teaching.  Since I understand grammar now, I do my best to make it simple, clear, and as much fun as grammar can be. Grammar isn't much fun, and games seem to cloud the issue, so I use my stellar personality to deliver the information. OK, so the grammar lessons are still a challenge.
Riding the motorbike everywhere is becoming like driving a car in the USA. Kids, and everyone else, drive like lunatics everywhere ... the USA, Peru, Vietnam. Crazy drivers are a universal truth. I may have been one myself, having totaled a car or two in my day. The point is, I was pissed off at this place for a while. When people scream at you when you try to help, or curse at you for no reason when you eat dinner, or stare at you like you're something less than human (white monkey) in 95-degree heat, then maybe you have a right to be pissed off. It doesn't change things, but it helps keep you sane in an insane world. Since I do not yell back well, or think fast on my feet, I use this blog to defend myself.  I can calmly think and say the things I should have said when I was unjustly confronted.  So to the folks who think I'm whiny, or a complainer, or a negative person, I want to say one thing: the best revenge is to live well and be happy.

Why am I still here?

The ups and downs of an ex-pat white monkey clearly hit the downside this past week or so. People raised their voices at me unexpectedly when I was actually trying to do the right thing. People came up to me at a local restaurant and said f%$ y$# while I was trying to mind my own business and eat. I no longer frequent that restaurant, or any outdoor-style restaurant where the white monkey seems to be a target for ridicule from morons looking to impress their "girlfriends" or just plain morons in general. I parked my motorbike at a store and a girl and guy on a bike drove up, bumped my leg as I was locking up my helmet (I've had a few stolen already), and the guy yells in adequate English: "Why don't you move?" By the way, the parking lot was virtually empty at the time. I was eating dinner in my living room the other day and watching TV, then looked out my front door and saw five people watching me eat and watch TV. I guess the white monkey is great entertainment. My neighbors, who really are nice people, came over to my motorbike when I got home from the grocery store and started looking through my groceries. They're probably doing their doctorate thesis on shopping habits of the white monkey. I think I'm forgetting most of the uncomfortable stuff that's happened to me in Bien Hoa, but I think you get the idea. I've been hassled in other countries a little, with the emphasis on "ä little". We all have slumps.
As I've said before, the white monkey is pretty much a gentle creature. I responded rather meekly -- usually with silence -- to these affronts. I don't want a scene in a foreign country where I would be at fault no matter who's at fault. I did walk toward the guy on the motorbike who yelled at me (the girl was driving and laying on the horn apparently trying to get me to "move"). But I thought better of it, shrugged, cursed a little and left without incident or what I went there for in the first place. People do ask me "What's you name?" and "How are you?" and "Am I pretty?" quite a bit, so it's not all hostile.
  When I contact people in the USA and tell my tales of woe, they tell me to leave. That's certainly an option. If it weren't for the students, I would certainly consider that option real, real hard. But the students, especially the younger ones, are the reasons the white monkey endures the brutal heat and abuse outside the classroom. The students now understand key phrases like "please," "thank you," "ladies first," "clean up your work area," and "share," and I've noticed their English and pronunciation have improved significantly along with manners, understanding and behavior. If butt clowns want to be butt clowns, I can't really change that, but I can make a little difference in the classroom. I guess that's why I'm still here.

Great staffers, students and neighbors

Man, am I in a good place right now. The house that the VMG staff found for me is like living in a little piece of heaven. The neighbors are incredible. They keep an eye on me to be sure, but in a good way.  I bought food from a guy who comes down our street with a cart, and my neighbors came out to make sure the price was fair and I got what I wanted. It was good food, by the way -- chicken, corn, sausage, and stuff I didn't recognize. The neighbors always point to show me I've left an upstairs light on, or that I forgot my motorcycle helmet (no brain). The people here seem to really care about you.
My house is so cool that I've been using the air conditioning for only a couple hours a day.
The staffers at VMG are just as cool. First, they found my house for me. But if I have trouble at work, like the copy machine jams or I need teaching materials, they do everything they can to help. Thien, Thu, Nguyen, Le Chinh, Nuhn (I'm sure I'm spelling the names wrong), accounting, Long Thanh and everyone in-between, do their best to make my experience here very positive. And they're very busy now because our school is expanding. So I thank these guys for putting up with the White Monkey, who makes lousy jokes, whines too much, and is a general pain in the ass.
The students here continue to shine.The younger students get it so fast with good pronunciation. The older students work hard. I understand how difficult it is to learn a language when you're older. I sympathize. The students can be a little chatty. As my wonderful mentor Laurie Dewey used to say to me: Welcome to teaching, Mr. Millman.
If I drank alcohol, I would have a toast to all of these guys. Instead, I'll have a nuoc mia.
Since I'm a slow learner, it has taken a little while for me to adjust to life here. Now I know it's been worth it.
The kids on bicycles are amazing here. They ride right in the middle of the wild traffic and don't flinch. When there's two kids on one bike, which is quite often, both kids will have their feet on the pedals so they work together and go faster. I rarely saw that in the U.S. (just about everyone was in a car). The motorbike is an easy adjustment for the young people here.
My school, VMG, is doing a Go Green campaign now. That's a great idea since litter and pollution are problems here. Well, they're problems everywhere. Teaching young people about these issues is one of the best ways to foster change. The students in my classes know they have to clean the room at the end of our lesson, and it's always "ladies first."  I'm trying to do my small part to help foster positive change.
I miss my children and hope to have a couple of them come visit. Otherwise, all is well except my Vietnamese language skills and lack of brain.
 

Happy birthday Le Chinh

I promised one of the young VMG staffers (the beautiful Le Chinh) a cake, and when I bought it I asked the ABC Bakery "worker" to write her name on it. I gave the "worker" a piece of paper with Le Chinh's name on it. So the girl writes "Happy Birthday Le Chinh" on the little cake. That was so nice, except that it's not Chinh's birthday. I have no idea when Chinh's birthday is, but I don't have to get her anything now. And I have no idea how to say or write happy birthday in Vietnamese.
I have returned to teaching full-time and I'm very happy about that. The students are always cool here. Some are more serious than others, but there's not a stinker in the bunch. Of course they're serious ... they're paying. That's why I feel obligated to do my best to make sure they have a positive experience and learn English. Good times for all, especially me. I taught students from Laos the other day and it was thoroughly enjoyable. What a nice bunch. The locals are entertaining as well. And everyone in an IC7 class laughed and gave me curious looks when I when I tried to speak Vietnamese for a sentence or two. I gave that up after that one class. I have enough trouble with English. But I'm starting to recognize words when the Vietnamese are talking. They keep saying something about a white monkey. The tones are impossibly difficult and trying to emulate them is nothing short of futile for me. But I'm not giving up.
I am in the process of moving into a new apartment. It's nice and I love the location, location, location  (a realtor once said that to me and my ex-wife). The drive to work is a little longer but a lot more reasonable in terms of traffic. The neighbors seem to be awesome. They smile and wave while keeping the staring to minimum. The only downside is that I'm near a cut-through street, and sometimes I get the feeling I'm being sized up for a future assault and robbery by the passers-by. It could be paranoia, but I've learned to keep my eyes open very wide, even though I don't see well. Luckily, I don't have much money, but hooligans don't know that. The Khanh Dang Hotel has been acceptable and I'll miss the employees there. They won't miss me because I've broken every glass object in the room.
I had yet another motorcycle bump the other day. A bike cut in front of me and didn't get out of the way fast enough. I sure as hell didn't slow down and waved as I continued on my way. Riding the bike and crossing traffic has become exhilarating for me. I almost look forward to making turns so I can cut someone off and scare the daylights out of oncoming traffic. I kind of get it now. If only speaking Vietnamese was this exhilarating.

Massage misunderstanding

 I had an awkward moment with the massage girl the other day. She was slapping my head around (which is very soothing, believe it or not) when I got a slight cramp in my back. I kind of shifted to my side a little and I believe she thought I was rolling over to my stomach, and she started emphatically saying NO NO NO!!!  I've been to this place about 20 times and they should know by now that I'm not there for anything other than a head massage to try to stimulate some brain growth. I suspect she thought I had other ideas by the way she reacted, but I shifted back into place and all was well after that. The girls do some tapping on the sides of my head, and put pressure on my temples ... that kind of stuff. It's truly wonderful and they're very nice.
I looked at a fantastic apartment today, and I really hope I get it since I may stick around here. If not, I guess it wasn't meant to be, and you can call me Mr. Khanh Dang Hotel. The hotel is fine, but I miss cooking and having some space and privacy, and I live in one of the busier (if not busiest) spots in Bien Hoa. Whatever happens will happen for the best. If not, it'll just happen anyway.
I'm no genius. In fact, the existence of my brain has come into question. Maybe that's why I've had a heck of a time learning even a little bit of Vietnamese. Listening and memorizing words are going OK, but speaking is rough, rough, rough. No matter what I say, even if I repeat it right after it's said to me, I screw it up. At least that's what I'm told ... by the locals who AREN'T SHY about pointing out my mistakes. I keep them plenty busy by making plenty of mistakes. I guess the people don't want to encourage a speaker as poor as the White Monkey. But I won't stop trying since I've decided I like it here, I really like teaching here, and I really like the students here. I publicly apologize to all the locals for the times I've been frustrated when they've actually tried to help me. That is the American way. Well, it's my way, sometimes, which is why I'm apologizing.
Speaking of students (well, I was a few sentences ago), many students here have become my facebook friends, and they AREN'T SHY about pointing out the mistakes on my facebook posts. I actually like and appreciate this, since I used to be an editor and I don't want to screw up anything about the local community or the names of the people who live here. It's dumb and it looks bad for a teacher to not know what the hell he's talking about. Even a teacher with no brain. Accuracy is everything, especially when you're writing about and posting photos of someone else's home and family.
Valentine's Day is a fairly big deal here, and everyone's in a festive mood after Tet. Me? I couldn't care less, really, but it's fun for the students and it gives me a chance to explain the difference in English between liking someone and loving someone, or disliking someone and hating someone. The students seem fairly interested. I have only taught a little this week, but the classes have been great. One class seemed a little afraid of me, but really, the White Monkey is a gentle creature when you get to know him. Just don't listen to his Vietnamese.

Say what? Can you repeat that?

My Vietnamese lessons from Donna YouTube have served me well, and annoyed a couple of local shop owners. I have a very basic understanding of the number system from 1 to 100, which is really all that you need in order to find out  what something costs. I can ask "How much?" before I pay, and I can sort of understand what the person is charging me. That knowledge killed one sale today, and forced another lady to give me the items I really wanted before I would pay. Both proprietors seemed pissed off, which is fine by me. I was polite. Vietnamese has sharp tones, so I couldn't tell if they were yelling at me or simply correcting my pronunciation. I think they were yelling at me. Most  folks are helpful when it comes to pronunciation, like coffee shop girl Hom, and hotel ladies Kimba and My Chi. A few folks seem to think that a White Monkey with knowledge is a dangerous animal. Hardly. I'm more than happy to repeat my Vietnamese until it's understood, or do without. Most times, I do without. And in fairness to the people I'm dealing with, they've got to listen to and try to understand my almost incomprehensible Vietnamese drivel that I read from a little notebook I carry. Oh well. Bien Hoa doesn't have a lot of westerners or English speakers.
Teenagers drink alcohol here. Or at least they look like teenagers. The males drink the watery beer and the girls drink Sting, an energy drink. They do the "Hai, Ba, Yo" (2-3-Yo) and chug thing, a tradition I can do without. Since I'm not drinking, it's not an issue for me other than being in the company of a lot of really drunk young people while I try to eat dinner. They seem really perplexed by my water drinking and refusal of alcohol, but that's life in the slow (and old) lane. I just point to my head when they offer to buy me a beer, which happens nearly every time I go out after 8 p.m. I've been going to bed early these days. It's killing me refusing free beer. I still don't know the names of all the foods, so I ended up with a meal of eels and tripe the other day. It was OK.
Co-teacher Joy suggested I take a motorbike ride and explore the city. So I went out and promptly got lost for nearly four hours on the other side of the Dong Nai River. And burned the hell out of my leg on the hot muffler. I was no more than 10-15 kilometers from my hotel, but when I asked the way to Bien Hoa, it was like I was speaking another language, like English. I finally found a nice coffee shop lady who pointed me in the right direction. When I got back to the hotel, my back tire was flat. I was lucky to make it. A guy fixed the flat the next day for about $1.50 USD, or 30,000 dong.
The city was really cleaned up for Tet, and most of the shops and stores are still closed. It's wonderful here, especially when you factor in the nice weather we've been having. Of course, many of the locals are "cold." I can't tell what's open or when. The supermarket shelves were pretty empty today, and then the supermarket closed before 2 p.m. While the city is pretty tidy, the canal that runs through town is pretty gnarly. Maybe that's where all the trash went. The canal smells, and it isn't pleasant. But that's always the case.
Classes start next week and I'm really happy about that. Trying to learn Vietnamese from Donna YouTube is excruciating, especially when you don't have a brain. And worst of all, the place where I get my head massage is closed this week.

Words for the wise

The misconception here among a handful of shop owners and other folk is that I´m the White Money, not the White Monkey. If they only knew. But instead of sitting by idly while a few shops overcharge me and others talk about me in Vietnamese when I´m standing in front of them, I´ve actually taken some sort of action. I´ve begun ´´learning´´ the language with YouTube tutorials (Donna is quite nice and doesn´t laugh at me when I try). It´s helped. I can count to 100, name the days of the week, and ask how you´re doing. The intonation and pronunciation are still difficult and will always be, but at least I´m in the neighborhood with some very basic Vietnamese. Just like Peru, people don´t care that you´re clueless, and they talk fast and in the local vernacular. And they´re very impatient when you don´t pick something up right away or pronounce words incorrectly (it´s not easy being a teacher, is it?). But I know charades is hopeless for whatever reason. I point to shoelaces and I´m sold a bra. Are my boobs drooping that low? So that´s why I force people here to listen to my godawful Vietnamese and correct me if they´re so inclined. Interestingly, locals don´t always agree on how to pronounce something, and they´ll argue among themselves quite adamantly about their position. Whatever. Just don´t rip me off and talk about me, unless it´s nice like Donna. I actually believe some people appreciate that I´m trying to adapt. They´re only charging me twice as much instead of three times as much. Just kidding. Some people have told me not to bother learning the language and that no one will ever understand me. Could be, but ignorance isn´t really bliss in this case, and learning words and phrases gives me something to do while I wait for classes to start again in February. Knowledge is good.
I had the wrong day for the Tet holiday, which I want to blame on traveling across the International Date Line but can´t since that doesn´t make any sense. I blame jet lag and no brain. Two days after arriving here, I thought I´d take a nap at 4 in the afternoon and woke up the next day -- 16 hours later. Tet is Friday, I think. I´ve been warned to stay off the roads tonight as people celebrate. Just like New Year´s, when too many people get drunk and drive -- and shouldn´t.
As I´ve said before, the vast, vast majority of people here are extremely kind and generous. They seem even a little nicer this time around. Perhaps they appreciate that I returned. Nah, what the hell am I thinking? There are some folks from other parts of the world drawn to the pretty women here. I´m no threat in that regard and I´ve made my intentions quite clear that I´m here to teach and learn the culture, and no more.
I already miss my kids, but they´re all so busy that we had to scramble to get together when I was in the U.S. Hey, the weather is great here right now. It´s not too hot, and actually gets a tiny bit cool (60s sometimes) at night. Eat your heart out East Coast.
I won´t show off and drop any Vietnamese on you. I´ll just say I can´t wait to teach and see the students again.
I also want to thank my brother Tom and his wife Shaila for letting the White Monkey crash at their pad and eat all their fruit.

(White) monkey see, (white) monkey do

My trip to the frigid and snowy USA was wonderful. I visited family (my superkids Jessica, Caroline, Jack and Alec) and friends while trashing a rental car and picking up a speeding ticket along the way. I spent a lot of money, mostly on medical stuff for which I have no insurance. Come to think of it, I don't really have any insurance -- or brain. But believe it or not, it's good to be back in Vietnam and see VMG staffers, students, teacher Joy and town folk. They're good people who seem to enjoy seeing the "white monkey" living outside his natural habitat. People in the U.S. were very hospitable -- the Sturms (great people), Ron Whiteside (the cat whisperer who is one good dude), my ex-wife Lynda, Tom Eleutario and Becky, Andy and Jane Vincent, and Dunkin' Donuts, where I set an unofficial record for cappuccinos drunk in five weeks. And in the U.S., only one chucklehead cut in line. I did quite a bit of walking in Glen Helen in Yellow Springs, and I also walked my ex-wife's dog.
     I got my motorbike back from Mr. Tu, and immediately entered the insanely busy pre-Tet traffic of Bien Hoa. It looks like prices rise before Tet as well, and one tradition is to give out "lucky money" to everyone. Tet is kind of like Christmas and New Year's rolled into one, and  it's somehow tied to the moon. I haven't done my research. I'm still struggling with the language so I have other issues. It was great to bump into some old students, who I hope to teach in February. I miss those guys. It was also great to get a head massage. My empty head feels wonderful. I'm back at the hotel and it's fine for now.  I visited friends Oanh and Vila, who work at a local restaurant. I won't teach until Feb. 10, so I may go to Cambodia and spend more money.
    I was lucky to get out of the U.S. because snowmaggedon had arrived in Virginia and a car flipped over on the highway leading to Dulles airport, making travel problematic. Snow cancelled my flight to Newark, N.J., so the nice lady at the airport got me on a flight to Tokyo, where I spent a little bit of time because I missed my connection to Vietnam. I made it to Ho Chi Minh City, where I was greeted by friendly VMG staffer Thien. The folk in Vietnam astutely observed -- and promptly told me -- that I've gotten fat. Nothing like home cooking.  I've been sleeping and kicking around Bien Hoa. I've got to be careful. I could get used to this lifestyle. However, I can't wait to start teaching and see the students again. Sometimes, life can be OK, even for a fat white monkey.