The house Phuong and I share looks great. It's three stories, has two bathrooms, three bedrooms and cable TV. Ah, but there are some issues. That's always the case, isn't it? About half the lights work, and it takes 5 to 12 seconds for the bathroom light to come on. The water pressure is OK, but the only warm water is in the upstairs shower. I use a kettle to heat water when I do dishes. And I've been told the water drains into our neighbor's walls. This is the karaoke neighbor, so I don't care. It's our landlord's issue, anyway. The stairs are steep, slippery, winding and moderately dangerous. If your feet are wet, all the floors, which are some sort of fake marble, are really slippery. I took a spectacular fall in our bathroom one night. And a while back, I closed the bathroom door, and it wouldn't open. I was stuck, until Phuong used a screwdriver and hammer and busted the door open, rendering the door knob useless. There are no vents in the kitchen, so when you cook the smoke leaves the room out the windows or open door. Fire alarms? Don't make me laugh. We run fans all the time. The good news is that the bedroom air conditioner works well. I do my school work in the bedroom, so it's where I spend most of my time.
I mention all this because a house is being built behind us, and one of the foundation pillars fell on Friday. Luckily, no kids were around, and no one was hurt. The pillar fell away from our house, but it still shook the earth. I hope they do a better job with the plumbing and electric. I'm always a little nervous when I stand on our third-floor balcony. It's a long way down.
Our friends David and Alexandra gave us fresh coffee beans as a gift when they visited. We used our new blender to grind the beans, but I went overboard and created coffee dust. The coffee is still excellent, but takes a really long time to make. I'm such a buffoon. I hope we can see those guys when we get to the United States. I'll make them a cup of coffee.
Phuong, who's a certified nurse, cured the ugly, god-awful heat rash on my arms. She found some liquid soap and cream, and within three days the rash was essentially gone. Phuong's also a certified IT person, so she can fix my computer and cell phone. She hooked me up with a second-hand printer that's made my life in my classes with real young students so much better. Phuong is one of those people who does just about everything well. She's been playing tennis for only a few months, but she wins about half our matches. I've been playing a long time, but then again, I'm one of those people who doesn't do much of anything well.
I've been a little tired lately, the result of cleaning up my lifestyle. Fewer cigarettes, less coffee, and more water. I had four classes Saturday and started the day exhausted, so I was expecting a rough time. Just the opposite. All the classes went well and I had a great day. Go figure. I've walked into classes super prepared with what I think is a super lesson plan, and the students have acted like I've got some ugly rash on my arms while I'm teaching. But overall, classes are super.
Speaking of super, Phuong and I have been together for a little over nine months. Happy, happy, happy.
We're waiting for Phuong's interview at the U.S. embassy in July to find out if she can get a visa and come to the U.S. with me. We're hopeful, but I've learned to expect the worst and hope for the best when it comes to this kind of stuff.
Sunday, May 24, 2015
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
Rain, sweat and tears
The rainy season is starting, which means I travel between teaching sites in the rain, either on the back of a bike or on my own bike, and I arrive wet and sweaty. The plastic rain coats sold here are like sweat suits, so the rain mixes with sweat and you smell like a wet dog for the day. The rain just seems to make the locals cold, because the temperature will drop to a brisk 90 degrees F when it storms. The humidity is also about 90 percent. Brrrr. The weather has produced a weird rash on my forearms, which I hope is just a standard heat rash, not some exotic, tropical toxin. Unfortunately, I see a doctor's visit in my future.
I've been drinking lots of water in a lame attempt to get healthier, but the result has been buckets of sweat pouring out of my body 24/7. I've always been a heavy sweater, and the water therapy is only making matters worse.
My daily tennis with Phuong has been fun, hot, and of course, weird. The chuckleheads that play doubles when we finish got into a shouting match the other day, with one guy quitting the match and leaving the court. A guy sort of double-hit a return because the ball hit his frame and strings at the same time and then he "pushed" the ball over the net. One of his opponents said he hit the ball twice and wanted the point. The shouting ensued, followed by the walk-off. Whatever.
When Phuong and I play, one guy does robot-like aerobics about 10 feet from me when I serve. Big distraction. The talkers are back, also. Vietnamese is essentially a mono-syllabic, tonal language. The tones can be sharp, so two guys simply chatting sound like they're fighting about spousal infidelity. I got pissed the other day with all the crap going on next to me, so I yelled "screw this", paid my money and left with 15 minutes of time still owed to us. I didn't care about the money -- the tennis is reasonably priced, but I don't pay to be bothered by robot-man or the mouths that roar. Some pretty boy with a David Beckham haircut showed up one day and came on way too strong to Phuong. What a wing-ding this loser was. All I want to do is play a little tennis. Just another day in the life here.
I wanted to go to the U.S. in June, but Phuong couldn't get an interview at the U.S. embassy until July. We'll see what happens. If she can't go, then I'll travel solo.
Two houses are being built directly behind our house, so the melodic sound of construction work starts at 6 a.m. and continues until 6 p.m. And the good news: They work seven days a week. Speaking of melody, a guy on our street died and the mourning requires three days of music, drum pounding and singing. Pretty much around the clock. I respect everyone's religion, unless it involves cutting people's heads off, but kids have school, people have work and I have to sleep. Too bad, I guess. In Ho Chi Minh City, I was told mourners have to rent a hall for their ceremonies. Good idea.
The adult classes I have are pretty quiet, but the kids classes are awesome. I break the ice with adults by speaking Vietnamese. That way, they can laugh at me and maybe not feel so embarrassed speaking English. The kids don't care so they're a hoot. Kids are great everywhere. Too bad they grow up to be adults who talk way too loud and do aerobics next to me while I play tennis.
I've been drinking lots of water in a lame attempt to get healthier, but the result has been buckets of sweat pouring out of my body 24/7. I've always been a heavy sweater, and the water therapy is only making matters worse.
My daily tennis with Phuong has been fun, hot, and of course, weird. The chuckleheads that play doubles when we finish got into a shouting match the other day, with one guy quitting the match and leaving the court. A guy sort of double-hit a return because the ball hit his frame and strings at the same time and then he "pushed" the ball over the net. One of his opponents said he hit the ball twice and wanted the point. The shouting ensued, followed by the walk-off. Whatever.
When Phuong and I play, one guy does robot-like aerobics about 10 feet from me when I serve. Big distraction. The talkers are back, also. Vietnamese is essentially a mono-syllabic, tonal language. The tones can be sharp, so two guys simply chatting sound like they're fighting about spousal infidelity. I got pissed the other day with all the crap going on next to me, so I yelled "screw this", paid my money and left with 15 minutes of time still owed to us. I didn't care about the money -- the tennis is reasonably priced, but I don't pay to be bothered by robot-man or the mouths that roar. Some pretty boy with a David Beckham haircut showed up one day and came on way too strong to Phuong. What a wing-ding this loser was. All I want to do is play a little tennis. Just another day in the life here.
I wanted to go to the U.S. in June, but Phuong couldn't get an interview at the U.S. embassy until July. We'll see what happens. If she can't go, then I'll travel solo.
Two houses are being built directly behind our house, so the melodic sound of construction work starts at 6 a.m. and continues until 6 p.m. And the good news: They work seven days a week. Speaking of melody, a guy on our street died and the mourning requires three days of music, drum pounding and singing. Pretty much around the clock. I respect everyone's religion, unless it involves cutting people's heads off, but kids have school, people have work and I have to sleep. Too bad, I guess. In Ho Chi Minh City, I was told mourners have to rent a hall for their ceremonies. Good idea.
The adult classes I have are pretty quiet, but the kids classes are awesome. I break the ice with adults by speaking Vietnamese. That way, they can laugh at me and maybe not feel so embarrassed speaking English. The kids don't care so they're a hoot. Kids are great everywhere. Too bad they grow up to be adults who talk way too loud and do aerobics next to me while I play tennis.
Saturday, May 2, 2015
Hong Kong is cool, except for tourists
I'm not a people person. Not when it comes to huge crowds of people stampeding you to get ahead in line, or take a picture, or get a piece of chicken at a buffet. Hong Kong is an interesting, beautiful and entertaining city. And the locals seemed pretty well-adapted to the tight spaces and fast pace of life. But the visitors, many from China ... god, the visitors. Phuong and I also fall into that category -- we were visitors -- but we tried our best not to be homo neanderthalensis when we went to Disneyland, Ocean Park, Madame Tussauds and restaurants. As a result, we got shoved, pushed, butted in front of, and had cameras and elbows thrust in our faces by throngs of chuckleheads looking for what they perceived was an advantage. I really liked Hong Kong, but .... well, I guess I'm not a people person.
Disneyland Hong Kong was OK. I've been to Disneyland in the U.S., which is larger and more Disney-esque. I didn't mind that the Hong Kong version wasn't huge. It had the usual stuff, like Lion King, It's a Small World, photos with Mickey and Minnie, Tomorrowland and more. The parades were well done, but the fireworks show was a bit of a dud. I was surprised by that, but after a long day in humid Hong Kong, a short show was swell with me. A woman crawled between my legs -- on concrete -- so she could stand in front of me and videotape the fireworks. We were standing in our spot for 30 minutes, and she crawled into action three minutes before the show. Gotta love it.
Ocean Park was cool, and the aquarium was excellent, even though a Chinese woman nearly knocked me on my ass while I was taking a picture, and then yelled at me for being in her way. But this behavior was one of the subplots of the trip for me. Maybe I'm too sensitive. I know I'm not a people person.
Tai chi was everywhere, and I loved it. People were practicing in nearly every park. And there are lots of little parks in Hong Kong nestled among the countless highrises and skyscrapers. But people don't flinch at tai chi. On our last day, our bus made an unexplained stop that lasted way too long. So I got out and did my tai chi on the sidewalk. The locals walked around me and honestly didn't give me a second glance. Only the Vietnamese on our travel bus gawked and giggled a little. The tour guide tried to mimic me and one girl came out from the bus to watch a little. Actually, the Vietnamese were cool about it and more or less congratulated me when I got back on the bus. I've been doing tai chi a long, long time, so even though I'm not in great shape, my form wasn't too bad. Phuong didn't seem too humiliated by the whole thing.
Hong Kong food wasn't bad, but I prefer Thai food. But our meals were OK, even with the chicken head on the plate. Like I noted, the weather is humid and pretty warm, but not like Vietnam. The people weren't overly friendly like Thailand, but they weren't creeps (except for the tourists). Hong Kong reminds me a little of San Francisco. Lots of hills, water, scenery, and things to do.
7-11 is everywhere, but that was convenient since our hotel, the Regal pain in the ass, didn't offer free ice, free internet, or much of anything else. I got hassled at my complimentary breakfast by some turd who insisted I'd have to pay. I'll take the high road and chalk it up to a language barrier.
Phuong and I had four nice days in Hong Kong, and equally important, she got a stamp in her passport that hopefully will lead to a USA travel visa. Hong Kong is a modern city with no motorbikes to speak of. It focuses on foreign companies and business, food, tai chi and tourism. Too bad the tourism brings in tourists. It's like my old friend Steve Wolfe used to say: California is really great, except for the all the Californians.
Disneyland Hong Kong was OK. I've been to Disneyland in the U.S., which is larger and more Disney-esque. I didn't mind that the Hong Kong version wasn't huge. It had the usual stuff, like Lion King, It's a Small World, photos with Mickey and Minnie, Tomorrowland and more. The parades were well done, but the fireworks show was a bit of a dud. I was surprised by that, but after a long day in humid Hong Kong, a short show was swell with me. A woman crawled between my legs -- on concrete -- so she could stand in front of me and videotape the fireworks. We were standing in our spot for 30 minutes, and she crawled into action three minutes before the show. Gotta love it.
Ocean Park was cool, and the aquarium was excellent, even though a Chinese woman nearly knocked me on my ass while I was taking a picture, and then yelled at me for being in her way. But this behavior was one of the subplots of the trip for me. Maybe I'm too sensitive. I know I'm not a people person.
Tai chi was everywhere, and I loved it. People were practicing in nearly every park. And there are lots of little parks in Hong Kong nestled among the countless highrises and skyscrapers. But people don't flinch at tai chi. On our last day, our bus made an unexplained stop that lasted way too long. So I got out and did my tai chi on the sidewalk. The locals walked around me and honestly didn't give me a second glance. Only the Vietnamese on our travel bus gawked and giggled a little. The tour guide tried to mimic me and one girl came out from the bus to watch a little. Actually, the Vietnamese were cool about it and more or less congratulated me when I got back on the bus. I've been doing tai chi a long, long time, so even though I'm not in great shape, my form wasn't too bad. Phuong didn't seem too humiliated by the whole thing.
Hong Kong food wasn't bad, but I prefer Thai food. But our meals were OK, even with the chicken head on the plate. Like I noted, the weather is humid and pretty warm, but not like Vietnam. The people weren't overly friendly like Thailand, but they weren't creeps (except for the tourists). Hong Kong reminds me a little of San Francisco. Lots of hills, water, scenery, and things to do.
7-11 is everywhere, but that was convenient since our hotel, the Regal pain in the ass, didn't offer free ice, free internet, or much of anything else. I got hassled at my complimentary breakfast by some turd who insisted I'd have to pay. I'll take the high road and chalk it up to a language barrier.
Phuong and I had four nice days in Hong Kong, and equally important, she got a stamp in her passport that hopefully will lead to a USA travel visa. Hong Kong is a modern city with no motorbikes to speak of. It focuses on foreign companies and business, food, tai chi and tourism. Too bad the tourism brings in tourists. It's like my old friend Steve Wolfe used to say: California is really great, except for the all the Californians.
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