I call the family across the street the Rat Pack, among other things. A husband, wife, two kids, and at least two dozen rats live there. The husband runs some kind of produce delivery business, and he has a huge pile of pallets in front of his house and the vacant lot next door, which he doesn't own. (You can see the pile in the lead picture for this blog. It's under a beautiful blue, black and white tarp. It's higher now.) The pallets serve as a rat repository and recreation area. Old women, who I assume are in his family -- everybody is related here -- sit in chairs in front of the house as rats scurry about, coming within inches of their legs. The women think it's funny and laugh. It almost makes me laugh when the old women meticulously sweep around the pile of pallets. I'll complain in English about the pile of rotting wood and rampant rats, which does zero good. The husband doesn't speak, but he stares and glares. He hasn't said one word to me -- not even a grunt -- in the four years I've lived here. The neighbors don't say anything about the rat ranch to the schmucked-up dad. If they won't confront kids and adult losers racing their motorbikes and cars up and down our little street at 100KMH, why would they be concerned about an idiot who's created a breeding ground for rats and disease? As always, I'm told there's nothing that can be done to clean up the mess. Removing the wood would reduce the rat population by 90 percent on our street, but as I've been told here for nearly five years: You don't understand! And I've had people here and in the United States laugh at me or say I'm negative, or a complainer, or just a plain old a---hole for whining so much. OK, guilty as charged, but in my opinion the people who let others do crap like this are the real losers. We've complained to the family, who gave us an incredibly twisted. stupid and nonsensical answer about the vacant lot next to them and rats living underground. We'll keep complaining and riling up the neighbors. I tell my students that you can lead or follow and that both are fine, but lead firmly and judiciously, and follow wisely. By the way, almost all of the motorbike riders go past our house slowly since I began my rants at them. Some even smile when they see me. I'll get off my soapbox now ... the rats underneath want to go out and find some food.
The never-ending monsoon season is never ending this year, or so it seems. We're still getting rain almost daily, although I do detect smaller amounts of rain and a little shorter duration for the storms.
When it rains, the temperature comes down ever so slightly. This makes the locals "cold" and the air conditioner for my very last class at the language center I no longer work at was set at 28 celcius on Wednesday. That's a chilly 82.4 fahrenheit and doesn't include the 11 kids running around the room, making it a degree or two warmer. The AC was often set on 29 in the teachers' room, which is a crisp 84.2. "I'm cold, teacher." Shockingly, I'm sick again. but thankfully, Joanna and Phuong are doing well. Joanna doesn't like the heat super much, and she'll sweat pretty good for a little girl. But kids don't care too much as long as they can climb on chairs and tables, and stick metal forks into the electrical sockets. Joanna is mischievous as hell, turning off the fan while we're eating in the kitchen. She turns it off, laughs, and runs away. She's bright as hell, also. Or at least I like to think so. When I read to her, she'll recognize a flower or animal in the book and point to the animals and flowers in the posters on her bedroom wall. She knows what a rainbow is and she can explain the principles of the Pythagorean theorem. Well, she knows what a rainbow is.
We were told by a court bureaucrat here that Joanna cannot have dual citizenship (Vietnamese and U.S.) because her last name is Millman. We were told we would have to change her name to Pham (Phuong's last name) in order to begin the process for her to also get Vietnamese citizenship. Ain't gonna happen. She's an American citizen now, and she even has a U.S. social security card . That works for me, especially if I can take my wife and daughter to the U.S. with me.
I'm having some issues with my eyes and dizziness, but that's none of your damn business, so butt out.
My eyes and dizziness have not affected my tennis, however. I discarded the bulky glove I was wearing to prevent blisters, and the result is a deft touch at the net and more powerful and controlled ground strokes. Really, the result is I can place my shots a little better. I beat Tai 6-0 two weeks ago, but that was after he played for five hours in a tournament. As Phuong always says to me: A win is a win.
Tai really wanted to kick my ass the next time we played, but I battled and lost 4-6. Yes, Tai, a win is a win, but I'm clearly getting better -- finally.
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