Since people live rather close together here, privacy is not a real priority like it is in other countries -- the United States, for example. In Bien Hoa, I've seen people stop their bike, get off and pee on the side of a road. Sunday, an 18-year-old girl who lives across the street from me was cutting her toenails on her front steps. A lot of men on my street walk around with no shirts, shorts that look like underwear, and flip-flops. Men and women do each others' hair sitting outside. I plead guilty to some of this behavior as well -- although I wash my hair in the shower, and I swear I don't cut my toenails or pee outside, unless it's a real emergency. The minimal clothing makes sense given the persistent heat. I get more weird looks when I dress up in a shirt and tie than I do when I sit on my front steps in my underwear having a smoke. I admit, I like the underwear-shorts thing because it's so hot and doesn't seem to matter to anyone.
This week, I posted a picture on facebook that I took of Erawan shrine in Bangkok when Phuong and I visited Thailand in February. I didn't post to show off after Monday's bombing. I was just struck at how someone's life could be ended or horrifically altered by grim circumstances. I guess fate can be cruel that way -- we visit and no worries, but if we go to the same place at the wrong time, our lives could be so tragically different, if not ended. I don't know, it just kind of rattled me that a place I recently enjoyed so much with Phuong became the scene of carnage for reasons I'll never understand.
Phuong and I were set to move into a new house, but the owners backed out of the deal more or less at the last minute. No shock, really. Everything seems a bit complicated here -- see past blogs about visas and tennis and language and shopping and riding a motorbike.
The more I teach, the more I learn about teaching. That's why I like the job so much. I've realized that students have bad days just like teachers, and when students are having a bad day, the teacher can't or shouldn't let that affect his/her performance. I know this isn't a news flash for anyone, but for me it means so much more to experience it, and to do the right thing in response. Or at least try to do the right thing. I'm still learning and I am sure I'll always be learning. When I go back to the U.S. in November, I hope my teacher-mentor Laurie Maravetz will listen to my whining for just a little bit. She's an amazing teacher.
Phuong's cooking is unbelievable ... really. She combines Vietnamese with U.S. flavors and creates a masterpiece every night. And she's not afraid to experiment, always with fantastic results. Pork and cow burger get mixed and put into spaghetti with tomatoes (not sauce), garlic, onions and other stuff I've never seen before. Awesome. Her fish soup is fantastic. I cook pulled pork on Thursdays, and I copy Phuong and my meals have been OK ... certainly better than they used to be. I'm getting a little chubby, but that's no concern. I'm getting old, too.
My motorbike tip of the week: You can't have any ego when you ride a bike here. If you do, you'll get really pissed off or go crazy trying to seek revenge. A no-win scenario.
Sunday, August 23, 2015
Thursday, August 13, 2015
Loneliness, a cultural mistake, and love
On Thursday, my son Alec and I chatted for over 45 minutes on Skype, and it was so refreshing and invigorating to talk about stuff I'm familiar with -- American football and Geno Smith getting his jaw broken in a locker room encounter; the pathetic Phillies; the Dodgers; and Ohio State academics. Alec will graduate from Ohio State this December, and I'm so, so, so proud of how he persevered and worked numerous jobs as he went to school. I can't wait to see Alec this December when I return to the U.S. In fact, I can't wait to see all of my family and friends. (Happy birthday Jessica, my awesome daughter. Hey Caroline, hey Jack, my other two awesome children.) Phuong's parents live close by, so it's not an issue for her. She talks with family every day. And really, she can talk with all the other folk in town because she's very outgoing, and of course, she speaks their language. My Vietnamese is somewhere below grunt level, so really I have no one to talk to other than Phuong and my friend teacher Joy. That can get rough sometimes because once every three months or so, I might have something intelligent to say. Well, maybe not, but it is a bit lonesome not to rap about the crap I'm used to rapping about with friends and family. I talked to my friend Ron as well on Skype, and I'm reminded of what a good friend and listener he is. He listens to my crap and takes care of my angry, shedding, hairball puking, vicious, flea-ridden cat. I'm going to put RW -- Ron's initials -- on my tombstone, if I don't end up in the Dong Nai River. Really, it's the least I can do.
Our house is still for sale, I guess, because lots of creepy people show up unannounced and look in our front door while we're watching TV or having dinner or whatever. The White Monkey feels like he's in a zoo. The owner showed up one morning with potential buyers just as we came home from tennis. She wanted to take the potential buyers though the house. This was the second time she's pulled this stunt. Phuong is very patient and understanding, and asked if it was OK for the crowd to go though our house. The White Monkey went ballistic. I started shrieking, beat my chest, and was prepared to expose my buttocks, which were bright red at this point. I explained to Phuong in agitated English that I don't want visitors showing up unannounced and looking in our closets and even worse, in our bathroom. I was extra pissed off because Phuong beat me in tennis that day. The owner saw my aggressive display and immediately left. The customers understood and said good-bye. We're moving next month.
Speaking of aggressive displays, I inadvertently made a big scene at tennis this week. Like I've said, most of the guys get it now -- they avoid the White Monkey and Phuong while we're playing. But a new guy -- shirtless and tattooed (not that there's anything wrong with tattoos -- two of my kids have them) -- walked across our court twice during our match and then sat courtside and shouted with a buddy on the other side of the court while we were playing. When he stood on a boundary line for our court while we were finishing a match, I tried to defuse things. I got down on my knees and pleadingly said "lam on, lam on," which I thought meant please. Everyone acted shocked, including Phuong. I was later told that what I did amounts to a declaration of war with him and his family and friends ... or something like that. I still don't entirely understand the ramifications of what I did, other than the fact that I think I would have been better off pissing on his uncle's grave. He chilled out and all seemed well to me. I guess the White Monkey is very well known on the local tennis circuit.
I'll quickly mention one traffic incident I was involved in ... I'm riding my bike in the usually blocked turn lane, heading toward a green light, when a guy carrying a kid steps right in front of me. Of course I hit him and the kid, but neither hit the ground. He was crossing and came out from behind a truck into my path. But no one believes the White Monkey. Fortunately, he kind of chuckled and went on his oblivious way.
Our favorite supermarket in Bien Hoa, Metro, seems to be sliding a little. They stopped carrying Tabasco sauce and the air conditioner wasn't on today, which made for some really hot shopping.
Phuong and I will be celebrating the one-year anniversary of our engagement next month. The best year of my life, even with the tennis shenanigans and traffic. Phuong is the most amazing and understanding woman in the world. She has to be -- she accepts the White Monkey, even though she doesn't care for that moniker. I love you Phuong. Happy anniversary!
Our house is still for sale, I guess, because lots of creepy people show up unannounced and look in our front door while we're watching TV or having dinner or whatever. The White Monkey feels like he's in a zoo. The owner showed up one morning with potential buyers just as we came home from tennis. She wanted to take the potential buyers though the house. This was the second time she's pulled this stunt. Phuong is very patient and understanding, and asked if it was OK for the crowd to go though our house. The White Monkey went ballistic. I started shrieking, beat my chest, and was prepared to expose my buttocks, which were bright red at this point. I explained to Phuong in agitated English that I don't want visitors showing up unannounced and looking in our closets and even worse, in our bathroom. I was extra pissed off because Phuong beat me in tennis that day. The owner saw my aggressive display and immediately left. The customers understood and said good-bye. We're moving next month.
Speaking of aggressive displays, I inadvertently made a big scene at tennis this week. Like I've said, most of the guys get it now -- they avoid the White Monkey and Phuong while we're playing. But a new guy -- shirtless and tattooed (not that there's anything wrong with tattoos -- two of my kids have them) -- walked across our court twice during our match and then sat courtside and shouted with a buddy on the other side of the court while we were playing. When he stood on a boundary line for our court while we were finishing a match, I tried to defuse things. I got down on my knees and pleadingly said "lam on, lam on," which I thought meant please. Everyone acted shocked, including Phuong. I was later told that what I did amounts to a declaration of war with him and his family and friends ... or something like that. I still don't entirely understand the ramifications of what I did, other than the fact that I think I would have been better off pissing on his uncle's grave. He chilled out and all seemed well to me. I guess the White Monkey is very well known on the local tennis circuit.
I'll quickly mention one traffic incident I was involved in ... I'm riding my bike in the usually blocked turn lane, heading toward a green light, when a guy carrying a kid steps right in front of me. Of course I hit him and the kid, but neither hit the ground. He was crossing and came out from behind a truck into my path. But no one believes the White Monkey. Fortunately, he kind of chuckled and went on his oblivious way.
Our favorite supermarket in Bien Hoa, Metro, seems to be sliding a little. They stopped carrying Tabasco sauce and the air conditioner wasn't on today, which made for some really hot shopping.
Phuong and I will be celebrating the one-year anniversary of our engagement next month. The best year of my life, even with the tennis shenanigans and traffic. Phuong is the most amazing and understanding woman in the world. She has to be -- she accepts the White Monkey, even though she doesn't care for that moniker. I love you Phuong. Happy anniversary!
Tuesday, August 4, 2015
New punks, no power, a happy ending
Here's some positive news. After seven months, the guys who play tennis next to Phuong and I -- or take the court right after us when our time is up -- have learned not to shout and scream while I'm in the middle of my service toss. And they no longer cut across our court while we're in the middle of a 15-shot rally on match point. Let the good times roll. But here's some negative news. Rain forced us to change times last week and we played at the same time a bunch of yokels showed up to play soccer on the field next to our court. Soccer is no problem for me, but these knucklebrains kicked the ball against the fence to our court while we played. Then they started taunting Phuong while she was serving: "Hey lady, teach me to serve. Show me how to play, lady." Shocking, but I don't think they really wanted a tennis lesson. And when I was about to serve, they shouted: "Hello, how are you?" Shocking, but I don't think they were really concerned about my well-being. One shirtless guy -- they were all pretty young, about 19 to 26 -- tried to give me the bad-ass stare as I walked to retrieve a ball. That was it for me, so I asked him in English he would never understand, "What's wrong?" and motioned to him to come into the court and tell me. He understood, I think, and dropped the stare and walked to his friends. I really don't want to fight 22 young, shirtless bozos, but I was starting to feel cornered. Besides, I'm sure I'd get my 60-year-old ass kicked. All I want to do is get a little exercise and enjoy time with Phuong, but some folks feel compelled to give me crap. The joys of being the White Monkey. Next time we play when the soccer guys are there, I'm going to hire six security guys -- really -- to stand shirtless, tattooed, and wearing mirror sunglasses at the fence so there's no problems. I guess you take the negative with the positive. Besides, most of the folk here are wonderful.
Time is moving pretty fast here. I've been in Vietnam the better part of two-and-a-half years. Phuong and I have been together for almost a year, and we get happier every day. Corny? Yes. True? Absolutely. Phuong has the patience to deal with the White Monkey's shrieking, and she has an incredible sense of humor. Her cooking is the best, and without a doubt, she's incredibly beautiful. So that's all positive, positive, positive. Maybe she'll teach me how to serve one day.
We had no power one day this week. It went off while we were at tennis, so when we came home, we couldn't get in the house. We have a sliding electric front door, but with no electric, there was no sliding. We sat outside hoping the power would return, and believe it or not, it was really hot. Adding to the fun, the key to our pad-locked back door was locked inside the house. I won't tell everyone that I told Phuong a while back to give the key to her mom, who's also our neighbor, in case we lost power one day. Eventually, Phuong's super-handy brother crow-barred the sliding door open enough for Phuong to slide inside, get the key, and unlock the back door. The power came back at 4 p.m. (it went off at 8 a.m.) and all was well.
Don't you love happy endings? Positive news.
Time is moving pretty fast here. I've been in Vietnam the better part of two-and-a-half years. Phuong and I have been together for almost a year, and we get happier every day. Corny? Yes. True? Absolutely. Phuong has the patience to deal with the White Monkey's shrieking, and she has an incredible sense of humor. Her cooking is the best, and without a doubt, she's incredibly beautiful. So that's all positive, positive, positive. Maybe she'll teach me how to serve one day.
We had no power one day this week. It went off while we were at tennis, so when we came home, we couldn't get in the house. We have a sliding electric front door, but with no electric, there was no sliding. We sat outside hoping the power would return, and believe it or not, it was really hot. Adding to the fun, the key to our pad-locked back door was locked inside the house. I won't tell everyone that I told Phuong a while back to give the key to her mom, who's also our neighbor, in case we lost power one day. Eventually, Phuong's super-handy brother crow-barred the sliding door open enough for Phuong to slide inside, get the key, and unlock the back door. The power came back at 4 p.m. (it went off at 8 a.m.) and all was well.
Don't you love happy endings? Positive news.
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