Our 17-month-old daughter Joanna is 84 centimeters tall and weighs 12 kilograms. She's in the 98th to 100th percentile for both height and weight. I was a little concerned about her size until I saw she wasn't off the charts. She's a very big girl in a country where people still tend to be smaller. And her mom is Vietnamese, but Phuong is 5-foot-3-1/2 inches tall, which is tall for a woman here. When other parents find out Joanna's age, they're quite shocked at her size. They still ask if she has a special diet. Of course, she doesn't. But like any good girl, she loves her chocolate. They're also shocked she's half-Vietnamese. Some ask Phuong if she's babysitting for foreigners. Race is very important here, like anywhere else, I guess.
Joanna likes kicking a soccer ball in the park, loves doing somersaults -- front and backwards -- and enjoys throwing a tennis ball and dragging my tennis racket around the court and the house. If we're forced to move to South America, we'll get Juan Martin del Potro to be her coach. Joanna is getting handy with a fork, tries but struggles with chopsticks, and enjoys orange juice and water. She'll dance whenever she hears music, even funeral music or the music that precedes the government propaganda blared over loudspeakers all over the city each day at 5 p.m. She'll even dance when I sing, so Phuong and I suspect she's tone deaf. She'll repeat some of the ABC's when I say them, but sometimes she'll say "C" wrong on purpose and smirk at me. She can reach up and open the door to her room and escape. She can handle a remote, especially off and on, but I still don't let her watch videos and TV. I'm not so sure that's the case when Joanna goes to her grandmom's family store. Like her dad, Joanna seems to dislike the heat. She sweats a lot and gets really cranky and thirsty. In other words, she acts -- and looks -- a lot more American than Vietnamese.
We've settled into a very nice routine here since I quit my job. I help some of Phuong's friends with their English in the morning and afterward I take care of some chores around the house. (I mistook bleach for liquid detergent and altered the color of many of our T-shirts and shorts.) While I slave for the betterment of the family and our household, Phuong and Joanna go to the park for a while, then hang out in the store that Phuong's family has in their house. I'll poke around on the internet and read about Donald Trump and North Korea and any other news of note, then hang with Joanna until I make lunch and milkshakes around 11:30. We get up early (6 a.m.) so we eat early. After lunch, Joanna may or may not take a nap. I'll read her a bunch of books in the afternoon. Sometimes she's interested. Other times, not so much. I'll make my way to a coffee shop and then to the park for tai chi. I haven't seen the kid who yelled f$#k you! at me in the park ... since he yelled f$#k you! at me in the park. I'm pretty sure Phuong scared the s&#t out of him when she pointed at him, and then walked toward the little weenie with a menacing look on her face. God, I love my wife. After chi, Phuong and Joanna will join me in the park for a walk and some soccer. Phuong usually cooks dinner but I'll chip in with spaghetti and hamburgers a couple of nights. At night, I read to and play with Joanna, do tai chi again, and share a beer with Phuong. Ah, the life of the 'retired' White Monkey.
In tennis, I lost to Tai 4-6 on Sunday and beat Phuong 6-1, but Joanna was a factor in both of the matches, so those scores come with an asterisk. If my net game improves, and Phuong's serve improves, we'll ... have a better net game and serve.
If we get the required paperwork for Joanna in time, we'll travel to Seoul, South Korea, for five days and four nights. We're looking forward to the cold weather and big, modern city. Hopefully, I'll meet an old buddy from Peru, Jon, and we'll share dinner, drinks, and war stories about Arequipa. Jon works in Seoul and was one of the truly wonderful people I met in Peru. Hope to see you soon, Jon.
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