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.