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.