I opened my eyes in Vietnam and saw my wife, daughter

I felt like Dorothy with eyes closed, clicking ruby slippers together and repeating "there's no place like home." When I opened my eyes and saw Phuong and Joanna at the airport, what an incredible, wonderful and happy moment. The wicked witch of the west was nowhere to be seen. I would normally say it's been like a second honeymoon seeing my wife again, but since we never really had a first honeymoon because of  a motorbike accident, this reunion has been especially sweet. Joanna is adapting to having her dad back in her life. She's hot and cold, to be honest. When she's hot, it's all love and laughter. When she's cold, well, she's cold.
I've arrived in Vietnam at the end of the Tet holiday / Lunar New Year, so there are a lot of drunks on the road. Even my friend Joy got in a minor accident. Joy (great to see her again) was fine, but her bike got knocked around and dented. Two girls cut their turn too short and hit Joy while she was in the right lane. People do this crap all the time, but somehow it's always the foreigner's fault. I guess we don't understand. Actually, I do understand. Smart travelers know this before they travel, but the White Monkey had to learn this after he started traveling: People tend to back up the people who think like they do or in some cases, look like they do. That's why Donald Trump still has some support. That's why Vietnamese people told me to apologize to a woman who illegally crossed a four-lane road, came out from behind a truck and dropped her bicycle in front of my motorbike. The woman's maneuver caused me to flip head over heels and crack three ribs and damage my kidney. I'm sorry, madam, for nearly hurting your bicycle. Some people rise above race and culture and know the difference between right and wrong. These are the folks I recommend bonding with and becoming friends with (for example, Marc, Gemma, Mollirose, Lacimae, who I consider my friends even though they're British and Irish -- ha ha -- like my dad). Race and culture can be wonderful things, but not when they blind us to the truth. Enough of this ...
I begin teaching privately tomorrow -- my favorite student Sam returns. We'll review some material and then begin IELTS preparation. It will be great to do some real teaching again instead of spouting meaningless questions and getting meaningless answers. (Is a supermarket high? No, a supermarket isn't high, but it's low.)
I want to thank the many people who read my blog about the difficult experiences I had at the Polish language center in Kety. I don't want any other TEFL teachers to go through what I had to endure at this "pathetic" center -- "pathetic" was the word the CEO used to describe the White Monkey when she tried (and failed) to withhold some of my pay for bills and documents I never saw or would see. Farce2Farce didn't work out for the White Monkey. I've been told two other foreign teachers are going to quit. What a shock! This will be the last time I mention Farce2Farce in my blog (unless I'm attacked or threatened again by the CEO). Time to move on.
I returned to tennis on Saturday and defeated my lovely and competitive wife, 6-3. I rallied from a 1-3 deficit. Ah, there's no place like home.

Details on why I left Poland; Prague is awesome

Some friends mentioned that my last blog lacked detail and wasn't clear about why I was leaving Poland. Actually, I've left Poland and I'm in hiding in Prague using an alias (the White Monkey), so now I can say why I left Poland after only 28 days.
There are two sides to every story, and this is my side. At the language center where I briefly worked:
* I was told by the owner that I was "pathetic". I was scolded and sternly lectured by the woman in the language center lobby -- in front of staff, students and God -- that I was "paid to teach the book" and that I was "not doing it" based on the testimony of her 8-year-old son.  This scolding came on the night before my last day -- I had given two weeks notice in writing.
* I had an unnecessarily heated battle with the owner to get my pay of $333 for 90 hours work --she wanted to withhold money to pay for bills that she didn't show me or didn't have yet; she tried to evict me on the spot and demand I leave her apartment in my pajamas in 25-degree F weather; and then she tried to physically prevent me from getting my clothes, eye medicine, laptop and suitcase, and threatened to call the police on me at least five times.
* Bottom line: I got the full pay I demanded, never saw the police, and never saw any of the bills she said I owed. I left the apartment at my leisure after packing.
*  I was told by one of my classes that the language center in Kety goes through foreign teachers like tissues. I know of four teachers who have left or are leaving ... in the past three months. Two of them worked less than a week.
* During my more than three weeks in Poland, I never saw a work permit or work visa; I never saw medical insurance papers or a contract to teach; I never had a medical exam or physical before teaching; and I never got an invitation for my wife to come to Poland. The owner promised these, then told me during our last-day confrontation over pay that she was going to tear up all of my papers and put them "in the waste bin." I'm not so sure they existed but if they did, I never saw them.
* Three business owners in town made disparaging comments about the owner -- unsolicited -- when I told them where I worked. Uh-oh.
Why do I bring all of this up?  Well, readers were confused by my last blog. Can't have that. Most important, I want to warn other teachers about this Kety, Poland, language center (no way I'll use the word "school" because teaching is discouraged. It's all about reading, reciting, translating. There's no understanding). Also, I want to clear my name as a TEFL teacher. I believe the students in Kety liked me and my style of teaching. I'll miss them. I don't recall picking any (or many) fights in my life, but I'll sure as hell defend myself when attacked. I believe I was attacked in Poland.

* * *

 I'm relaxing in Prague after the ordeal in Poland, enjoying the incredible beauty of the city, eating the fantastic food (except for the filling dumplings), drinking the varied selections of beer, and interacting with the lovely people. In my view, eastern Europeans can be a little distant and grumpy at first, but once the ice is broken, they're open and giving (and the girls are pretty, too, but not as pretty as Vietnamese women). I feel very comfortable and safe here, and I want to bring my wife and daughter Joanna for a visit one day.

The downside of living like King Charles IV in Prague is that I've gone through all of my money in a short period of time. Phuong and I get a big laugh about this when we talk on Skype.

One thing about eastern Europe is that getting your laundry done at hotels is stupid expensive -- the Lindner Hotel in Prague and the Hotel Restauracja Piwnica Rycerska in Kety both wanted about $200 U.S.D. to wash six pairs of socks, three t-shirts, one dress shirt, three pairs of undies, a pair of shorts and a pair of pants. My laundry didn't fill either hotel laundry bag. The staff at both hotels looked horrified when I said forget it. I put my clothes and detergent in the toilet, flushed 15 times and hung up my clothes in the room. Or something like that.

Like Poland, I find food the biggest bargain in Prague -- it's quality, cheap and plentiful.  I got prosciutto (ham) and Halloumi (goat and sheep milk cheese) and provolone, fruit (apples, oranges, blueberries and strawberries), two yogurts, and Ciabatta olivova (a crispy, delicious olive bread) all for about $12 U.S.   Beer is cheap as well. I got a large Sv. Norbert Weizenbock Dunkel (outstanding) for $3.50 U.S. This is a seasonal craft beer made on the premises. I also got the smoked porter, aged in oak barrels with an infusion of Big Peat Whisky.  Smoked porter isn't for everyone, but this is a special beer in the White Monkey's opinion.

My sightseeing has been limited due to sickness (and beer), but I wandered into old town yesterday,  and visited the Eiffel Tower copy the day before.  I'll visit the Charles Bridge and Prague Castle later. A good friend suggested some great places to visit, but my energy level is low at the moment and I'm quite focused on getting home to Phuong and Joanna. I'll sign off to all my readers by saying: Wish you were here!  Marc, Jemma, Lacimae, Mollirose: I miss you chuckleheads a lot. Although our contact is quite limited, I miss all my children in the U.S.
Phuong and Joanna -- you know I miss you horribly and I'll be home in a few days. Yea!

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Almost everything superb during my short stay in Poland

I'm leaving Poland after an unexpectedly short 28-day stay. An odd period in my life, so to speak. Almost all the people I met and got to know in Kety, Poland, and the surrounding area, were genuine, kind and giving, just like I was told by friends in the U.S. before I got here. There's a few extra-cool people who deserve extra-cool attention in this space.
Marc, Gemma, and little ones Lacy May and Molly Rose were the best. They welcomed me with open arms and an open kitchen, where I ate more pizza and donuts than Homer Simpson and drank more coffee than a small-town cop. Marc and Gemma were as nice as any couple I've ever met. Lacy May finally accepted me and Molly Rose loved to shake her head "no" at me and watch my "frustrated" reaction -- and laugh at me. We bonded and became a pair of wild White Monkeys. I'd also like to mention pretty Martyna and her mom and dad at the coffee shop, where I continued my cop-like coffee drinking. They were very nice and wanted me to stay in Kety. Anna and Natalia at the hotel, the folks at the "Chinese market" and some guy at an electronics store did all they could to make my stay in Poland pleasant, comfortable and convenient. I got to visit Auschwitz -- which was an emotional, incredible, and once-in-a-lifetime experience -- thanks to Marc and Gemma. The food here is wonderful and very reasonably priced. I loved the perogies, desserts, ham, cheese, rye and wheat bread, peach and blueberry yogurt, oatmeal cookies and donuts. One day I ate seven donuts -- if you eat a lot of donuts on Donut Day, you're supposed to have good luck for the next year. I'm a fat, lucky charm.
The weather was a bit gloomy here. There was one truly sunny day in my 28 days here and the lack of  sunshine may contribute to the brusque manner of some of the locals. The car driving was atrocious. People tailgate, speed and stop at pedestrian crossings at the last second. Unacceptable. And cars are bigger, faster and more deadly than motorbikes. I've survived four serious motorbike accidents in Vietnam, but I doubt I'd be alive after four serious car accidents. But who knows ... or cares?
I'm not sure Kety would have been a great fit for  my wife Phuong and daughter Joanna. I saw two Chinese people, but that's about it for people of color. Well, that doesn't matter anyway because they're not going to live here. And there are no victories to be won by wasting space in this blog discussing the small cluster of mean-spirited people I encountered in Kety. As a sometimes traveler, I've learned that there are creeps everywhere, but that most people have hearts of gold. Some people think the biggest creep is writing this blog.
I'm heading to Prague for five days and treating myself to a nice hotel and castle tour. Then I'll return to Vietnam to be united with my wife and baby girl. Yesss!
The U.S. State Department basically ignored our request to find out why Phuong can't come to the U.S. to be with her husband and daughter. A year of waiting for nothing. I've been warned that the U.S. immigration system is a mess now and that our bid to get my family to the U.S. could spin in bureaucracy for many, many years. Really, after seeing Auschwitz and better understanding what happened there, the U.S. government can suck socks that smell if it's not going to let my wife enter a country with a xenophobic and belligerent leader. Our family will be just fine somewhere else. Good morning, Vietnam!

A haunting trip to Auschwitz; Is a supermarket low?

My visit to the Auschwitz-Birkenau Memorial and Museum in southern Poland on a bitter-cold and snowy Sunday was compelling, disturbing and, in a very real sense, life-changing. Touring the tiny barracks where so many Jewish prisoners were forced to live and die in cramped and horrifying conditions, and seeing the electric fences, piles of women's hair that had been cut off, possessions such as men's, women's and children's shoes, the remains of the gas chamber at nearby Birkenau, the crematorium, and so, so much more made me realize how absurd complaints are about long lines, rude people, cold coffee and all the other insignificant things we whine about. The tour gives you such an unforgettable feeling of what happened there and how the Nazis forced prisoners to live -- and eventually die -- in conditions that are really hard to fathom. How any group of people could make others endure hardship and suffering of this scope is beyond my understanding.
All of this may sound trite, cliched and perhaps self-serving, but honest to God, I mean every word of it. Every day since the tour, I've reflected on the events from 1940 to 1945, when Russian soldiers ultimately discovered the camp and began to reveal what happened there.
Let me give you a quick recap of my tour with my friend Jemma. Her husband Marc graciously stayed behind to take care of their two young children, Molly Rose and Lacy May (more about this family later).
Our guide Paulina, who did an incredible job, took us through the entrance of Auschwitz where a sign that greeted the prisoners roughly translates to WORK MEANS FREEDOM. We toured various barracks near the entrance and were told the history and background of Auschwitz. A former town was turned into a concentration camp. I believe captured Russians were the first inhabitants and victims. Gypsies and other groups of people were brought there and the Final Solution -- the planned annihilation of the Jewish race -- began to unfold. Auschwitz was centrally located for the Nazi's plan to round up and kill Jews. Paulina told us how Jews who knew their fate tried to kill themselves by leaping into the electric fence. Almost all were shot by guards before they made it.
We toured the site where Josef Mengele conducted medical experiments on Jewish prisoners. We went to basement cells where prisoners died from suffocation, sickness or starvation. We saw so much that I can't get some of the images out of my mind.
The tour finished with a very short bus ride to nearby Birkenau, which housed the gas chambers where most of the Jews died -- an estimated 1 million people. About 100,000 to 200,000 others died at Auschwitz.
I chatted with tour guide Paulina afterwards, and she told me that she had nightmares regularly when she first started her job at Auschwitz. As noted earlier, Paulina did a fantastic job dealing with a grim and depressing chapter in world history. Thank you, Paulina.

* * *

I quit my job at a language center in Kety, Poland, after working there three weeks. I worked four years and nine months at VMG in Bien Hoa, Vietnam, and a total of 14 months on two separate occasions at Extreme English in Arequipa, Peru, with former boss and now friend Chris Larsen. I consider working at VMG and Extreme as positive experiences in my life. Both language centers treated me with the respect that an old White Monkey deserves. I had a big story about my exit from the language center in Kety, but I'll just say this: Miserable people lead miserable lives. That said, I really enjoyed the students here, and given the opportunity, I think their English could be excellent in a short period of time. Too bad they are taught such important phrases like: Is a supermarket high? No, a supermarket isn't high, but it's low. You can't make this stuff up.

Kety was extremely quiet (most shops close early on Saturdays and aren't open Sundays), but it's fairly nice. So are most of the people. The weather is rough -- I saw the sun for six hours in three weeks.

* * *

Marc and Jemma (and their children) lived on the first floor of the house we sort of shared. They were the best neighbors and friends I could have possibly asked for in Poland.
 Jemma is a wonderful woman (and teacher) and Marc is a budding teacher, administrator, bicycle repairman, doorman, car attendant, and IT. He's a wonderful person as well. These folks were generous, kind and wonderful to the White Monkey. And shockingly, they have all these qualities and they're from Great Britain.

* * *

I will be with my beautiful and kind wife Phuong and wonderful daughter Joanna very soon after a trip to Prague. Thank God I didn't bring my wife and daughter here. I will be so happy to see them both. And I'll do a little private teaching with my favorite students when I get back to Vietnam.