I'm very happy to be back in Vietnam because this is where Phuong is, and also because it's just about as warm here as it was in the United States. The world is upside down sometimes. My air travel in these troubled times was surprisingly smooth although I ran into a little difficulty in efficient Tokyo, of all places. My flight from Tokyo to Ho Chi Minh City was delayed because of problems with the Narita Airport buses, which ferry passengers from the terminal to the plane on the runway. Go figure. I got to HCMC a couple of hours late, so Phuong wasn't there. I was hassled by taxi drivers, and since it was near midnight, nothing, and I mean nothing, was open at the HCMC airport, one of the worst I've been at, along with the airport in Lima. Phuong eventually showed up and all was well. So I arrived early Thursday, ran around town on Friday, and taught four classes Saturday. I was Santa on Sunday morning for a school function (which I really enjoyed), and sick Sunday afternoon. I'm shaking with chills now. It's nice to be back.
Actually, I'm happy to be back "home" because I got fat in the United States on cheese, pretzels, milkshakes, cappuccinos, bagels and cream cheese, pizza and lots of beef. I love the food but hate the fact that all of my clothes are tight now. Besides, the coffee and chicken in Vietnam are the best.
Also, I'm happy to be back on the motorbike. Maybe I've fallen prey to the Stockholm Syndrome, but I've learned to enjoy the motorbike, except when it rains. But rainy season is pretty much over.
Of course, I missed Phuong the most when I was in the U.S., but I also really missed the students here. There are a few classes that are special to me, and when I saw the kids again, they almost hugged me. I say almost because public displays of affection are incredibly rare here. You'll see a little hand-holding on occasion, but that's about it. I guess everyone goes to my hotel/motel for the real affection. Quite a contrast to Peru, where public make-out sessions were the norm. Or the U.S., where people wear their emotions on their sleeves and everywhere else. Anyway, I'm happy to be teaching again and I'm happy to see the students.
I don't mind the folks here staring at me here, which started when I stepped off the plane, but I don't understand the people who laugh at me. Six guys near Phuong's family store pointed at me and started laughing when I got off my motorbike. After a no-nap, 31-hour trip and three hours sleep when I finally got home, I didn't share the laugh with them. They started yelling the usual crap at me: "Hey you, what's your name, ha ha ha. Where you from? Ha ha ha." They wanted to engage me, for whatever reason, but I wasn't in the mood so I took care of business and went to my hotel/motel. Basically, I diffused what was becoming an unpleasant situation. Did I say I was happy to be back "home"?
We had to change rooms at our hotel/motel for personal reasons, and now we're in a room that's slightly bigger than a walk-in closet. The bathroom is so small that I inadvertently bumped the shower spigot and had an unexpected cold shower while taking care of bathroom business, if you know what I mean. Unbelievable. All the doors at the hotel/motel are locked at night, which makes it feel like I'm under house arrest. Creepy. Phuong negotiated a key so I can go on the balcony for a smoke late at night (after 10 p.m.).
It was wonderful to see family and friends in the U.S., and I want to thank everyone for their hospitality and generosity. Hosting the White Monkey in any capacity can be hazardous duty, or so I've been told. Thanks again.
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