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.