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.