There was a raucous fight on our street about 75 yards away from our house. Any kind of accurate account is impossible to get here for a number of reasons, but primarily for me it's because of the language. What I do know is that one of the combatants went inside his house and got a big knife that's used to cut open coconuts. I guess he wanted to cut open his opponent's coconuts. No one called the police, of course, and after jawing, punching, and threatening with a knife, things settled down. Thank God none of the rats living under my neighbor's pile of rotting wood were injured.
I think I mentioned this in a previous blog: There was a dispute between a teacher, who's an Englishman, and a Vietnamese local, over the local parking his motorbike in front of the Englishman's front door. At least that's what I think the dispute was about. The Englishman complained, and the local went home and came back to the Englishman's house with a big knife, probably one used to cut open coconuts. He was ready to kill the Englishman over where he could park his motorbike. I think the Englishman wisely closed his door and eventually left Bien Hoa. Smart man. This country needs some serious knife control laws, or coconuts that are easier to open.
My non-video-and-TV-watching daughter Joanna turns 16 (months old) soon, and she's already learned to butter up her dad. Every morning she goes to a table near our bed and brings me my eyeglasses. Maybe she wants me to see that her diaper really needs to be changed, so of course I oblige and tell Phuong to change our daughter's diaper. Ha ha. I believe my wife will verify that I do my share of housework, and that includes cooking, cleaning, laundry, dishes, and Joanna care. But caring for Joanna isn't work. It's a joy because of the love and interactions we have. Actually, the only real disagreements Phuong and I have are about who gets to spend more time with Joanna. I'm lonely because my kids in the U.S. don't really contact me and many of the westerners I've met in Vietnam are creepy (except Joy). Fortunately for me, Joanna is starting to speak better English ... certainly better than many of the folk I've had to deal with here.
I really enjoy cooking these days because I really enjoy eating. I'll show Phuong some American dishes and she'll show me some Vietnamese cuisine. The only problem with cooking is that the downstairs of our house doesn't have air conditioning, so the kitchen gets to 30 degrees celcius or higher with all the burners on. There are no ovens in houses here -- at least I've never seen one -- or else the kitchens would get as hot as the teacher room and some of the classrooms at my former school. "I'm cold, teacher." Phuong appreciates my culinary skills, limited as they are, and sometimes she'll secretly copy my style, making scrambled egg or sunny side up egg sandwiches with cheese and chunks of ham or bacon. I've been buying green and spicy curry soup lately and adding zucchini (a Pham-Millman family favorite) and chicken. I always have dessert, and share with Joanna. We'll enjoy khoai mon cakes or nut and seed cookies with sugar-free yogurt from Da Lat. Breakfast always consists of naval oranges and apples from the U.S. or New Zealand, which cost a small fortune, and peanut butter from Golden Farms, one of my favorite local companies. And there's always lots of milk. I like chocolate milk, which I freeze into choc-cicles and share with Joanna. We eat well, and go about 50-50 between "western" and Vietnamese food. Joanna weighs 12 kilos and is 84 centimeters tall. That's 26 pounds and 33 inches -- about the "average" height and weight for a 24-month-old girl. There's nothing "average" about Joanna, and locals are stunned when we tell them she's only 16 months old. We're always asked what we feed her and why she's so big. I tell people to read my blog and Phuong always mentions milk. Joanna is obsessed with cheese, and we have to limit her intake or she struggles to poop.
A situation with my eyes will bring me back to the U.S. sooner than expected, and I am planning to go to Prince Edward Island alone for a couple of weeks in either July or August. The staff at Dalvay by the Sea has been gracious and accommodating, so I'll honeymoon alone by the sea, which is as creepy as the westerners in Vietnam.
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