Park is the place for White Monkey

I spend more time in the park near our house because it's relatively clean (compared to the city) and there aren't many motorbikes, although an occasional duckface will race his motorbike on the park's concrete paths to get somewhere really important, like a coffee shop or video gaming room. I can do tai chi in the park, though, and passersby don't seem to really care. It reminds me of Hong Kong. The Vietnamese stare at me less in the park when I do tai chi than when I walk on the sidewalk to my new, favorite coffee shop. In the park, there are wedding photo shoots, which are rather pleasant, a few birds in the trees, and lots of butterflies. All of this is serenaded by unseen cicadas. The litter is minimal, and the park workers always smile or nod at me. All in all, a good scene. The canal near the park can smell sometimes, but since it's rainy season the water gets flushed out, so to speak. I'm mystified by the guys who fish in the canal. I don't think you can catch anything there except a serious skin rash. When I went to the park at dusk, I saw lots of birds zipping around the trees and canal while I worked out. Phuong was with me and said no big deal, they're bats.
An old friend Eric suggested I walk myself back to health after my two motorbike accidents. And he's absolutely right. Actually, I've been a walker for some time. I'm completely recovered from the motorbike accidents thanks to Phuong's massages with Chinese oil, walking, tai chi, and not smoking. Yes, I'm closing in on three months without a puff. Smashing your ribs and lungs on concrete is a drastic method for quitting, and I don't really recommend it, but whatever works.
Sadly, my walk is not a pleasant experience. A motorbike rider banged into my back (the fourth time this has happened) as I walked on the sidewalk near this craphole market next to the train tracks. No damage to me, but I was popped pretty good and stumbled a bit. The rider's reaction? He laughed at me. I approached this fishface with my cane in hand, ready to swat his ugly pug into next week. I showed restraint, however, and merely screamed curse words at him so loudly that the losers who work in the market gawked at me even more than usual. The guy rode away -- on the sidewalk. Three days later, I smacked a girl's bike with my new cane when she was about to hit me as I crossed the street with a pregnant lady (in a crosswalk). Really. The girl didn't make eye contact with me when I asked her "What's up, apeface?"
Speaking of pregnant ladies, my beautiful and lovely wife Phuong looks ready to give birth any moment. Phuong is incredible: 9 months pregnant and she's still cheerful and beautiful. The baby keeps moving, but it's obvious there isn't a lot of room for the baby to maneuver. We'll see elbows and knees and feet and hands move across Phuong's BIG belly.  And when I curse, which I do on occasion, Phuong tries to cover the baby's ears by putting her fingers on her stomach. You'd have to see it, but it's cute and quite funny.
The rainy season has cooled things off ever so slightly -- it's 92 or 93 every day instead of 97 or 98. But the humidity is brutal. I went into the staff room at my school and a Vietnamese staffer was tutoring a little Vietnamese girl.  I go in there to get my attendance folder for class and organize any papers I have for class. The Vietnamese staffer had the air conditioner on 32 degrees celcius, which is 89.6 degrees farenheit. That's warm in any culture. I prepared for class in the hallway, where it was probably a brisk 85. I understand it's all genetics, physical stature and such, and the heat doesn't bother these folks as much as the White Monkey.  But when a 210-pound White Monkey is wearing dress clothes and a tie and teaching in an 88- or 90-degree classroom, life becomes a sweaty mess. I don't do my best work. A student wearing a micro-miniskirt asked me why I was sweating in the 89-degree classroom when I was teaching. I responded: "Because I'm wearing clothes, I guess."
I included a few pictures of bikes cutting into oncoming traffic or riding against the grain to make a turn. Signals aren't necessary when riders pull this stunt. It's really shocking I've had accidents here, isn't it?
I've got some great kids and teen classes these days. For whatever reason, I relate to these guys. Maybe it's because they're young and their minds are open to new ideas, new ways of thinking, and new points of view. They get over their shyness pretty quickly and will try to speak English in class. I love that. Youth is great.