Phuong jokes that our baby is waiting for Wimbledon to really get under way before it's born. Right now, our baby is sticking with Phuong. Doctors extended the due date from July 4 to July 6, but I don't put much stock in their predictions. We'll just wait -- and as the Vietnamese say, waiting is happiness. (If waiting is happiness here, why does everybody cut in line?) Wimbledon started Monday, so I expect to see our baby real soon. I think of Phuong all the time and I want her to have the best experience possible delivering our baby.
My walk to and from my new favorite coffee shop has become a circuitous and complicated journey through Bien Hoa. All to avoid motorbikes on the sidewalks. But it's not really working. I go through the park, down a couple of alleys, along the railroad tracks, down on a side street, and on the main road for a short while. I'm not on the main road much because of the bikes, but I still manage to almost get hit a couple of times a day. I'm OK, though, because I've learned the art of defensive walking. Unbelievable! But this isn't a pedestrian-friendly town. In the White Monkey's view, there's a class system here: Car drivers think they are gods, motorbike riders are heroes, bicycle riders are mere mortals, and pedestrians either sell lottery tickets, or can't afford a car, motorbike or bicycle.
All that said, most people along my zig-zaging route recognize the crazy, singing, cane-carrying White Monkey. And they're very nice. Lots of smiles and nods from the locals make the walk pleasant, despite the motorbikes. I wear big headphones and listen to music when I walk -- I've gone through about five pairs of headphones this year -- so I don't have to tell people my name or where I'm from.
Part of my routine includes a stop at Hancook, a new Korean restaurant on the main street near the language center where I teach. The kim chi is very good, and there's a quality mushroom soup as well. In fact, all the food I've had there is good. Needless to say, I'm burned out on Vietnamese food, and I'm not that crazy about it in the first place, other than the chicken. Obviously, Phuong has slowed down a little on her cooking, I often work 5 p.m. to 9 p.m., so we cobble together meals from the Korean restaurant, a little home cooking, and Phuong's mom. We're eating well.
It's interesting, but the folks we've encountered who work for Amway here think they're super hot stuff. Really. They mock products not sold by Amway and warn that you're making a big mistake by buying whatever the hell you buy that's not Amway. Some Amway folks down the street had a huge party that closed part of the street and included live music -- to celebrate their daughter's first birthday. Overall, our neighbors are OK. The ones that are weird, and that's just about all of them, keep to themselves. Our next-door neighbors have a six-year-old boy who screams and cries, and I mean screams and cries, about four hours a day. We'll hear him screaming and kicking the walls or whatever at 10:30 at night. God, I hope our kid isn't like this. I feel bad for the little boy. He seems bored in addition to unhappy, but Phuong and I have almost no interaction with this creepy family.
I'll see kids riding bikes alongside cars and motorbikes, and playing in the streets, but I'd like to see more parks and playgrounds here for kids and families to gather. It's a different culture from what I'm used to, and really, I have to remind myself of that quite often. I'm like everyone else: I think I know what's best for the world and everybody in it, and that my ideas are not only the best, but the only ones that matter. Maybe I should get a job with Amway.
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