One motorbike ride is all it takes; pizza face; Vance books

I returned to Vietnam on Aug. 16, and vowed never to ride a motorbike here again. No big reason other than the fact that I want to stay healthy and alive for my wife and daughter. For a few days, life was going according to plan. Then, the unthinkable happened. We ran out of beer on a Sunday. There was no choice: I had to ride the bike to Vincom, a shopping mall about 2 kilometers from our house. There is no good day to ride in Bien Hoa, but Sunday is especially wretched. The roads are more crowded than usual, the drunks are out (and that's acceptable here), there isn't a cop in sight, and it's nearly impossible to get a taxi early in the day. Yet, the White Monkey bravely and foolishly hopped on the bike and carefully, oh so carefully, headed to the supermarket inside Vincom. There was trouble right out of the blocks. A speeding A-hole came up behind me on a side street and cut me off as I merged into traffic on a bigger road. I was pissed and screamed at the bitch, threatening to kill him. He knew he was an A-hole and raced away from me as I cursed. Honest to God, he took off so fast he nearly rode into the back of a truck, swerved and almost wiped out. OK, that's typical crap here. I cautiously made it to Vincom and was waiting in a small line of bikes to get a parking pass. No big deal, right? Wrong. A girl rode into the back of my bike.  Not a hard hit, but a hit nonetheless. Nobody was moving, except the girl, when I got hit.  I turned around and asked, "What's wrong with you?" She defiantly responded, "I didn't hit you." Oh, my mistake. Anyway, no harm so I looked for a parking space in the super crowded basement parking lot. I got lucky and saw an empty space where there were two rows of bikes facing each other with escape routes behind each row. I got off my bike when a girl got on her bike across from me. Apparently, she didn't want to back out and go ALL THE WAY around her alley to the exit, so she laid on the horn and motioned for me to get on my bike and back out so she could take a shortcut. My friend Ron told me I should have given her the Vietnamese hand wave, but honestly, I didn't think of it. I just simply put on my headphones, put my keys in my pocket and went to the market. I bought two small bottles of La Trappe Tripel and four bottles of Leffe Brune for a total of about $20 U.S. Worth every penny after that ride. That's the only time I've been on the motorbike since I've been back from the U.S. and I don't see much riding in my future.

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 I walked to the swimming pool on Monday with Phuong, Joanna and Joanna's two cousins. Joanna loves the pool even more now because she has floating devices on her arms that give her independence in the water. Afterward, I decided to buy the kids a pizza from a street vendor. While waiting on the sidewalk for the vendor to cook the pizza, a guy and girl pulled up behind me on a motorbike and laid on the horn for me to move (lots of horn laying in Vietnam). I didn't see them coming so it scared the crap out of me, and it was all I could do not to slap that clown across his face. I stayed calm, stood and stared Vietnamese-style, then smiled and refused to move. He parked his bike on the spot and his girlfriend never looked up from her cell phone. She was playing a video game -- very important ... you don't understand. Another day in the life of the White Monkey.

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I picked up some books written by the late Jack Vance when I was in the U.S. I've read almost all of Vance's science fiction work, -- it's brilliant -- but I found a couple I had not read or heard of -- Ports of Call and Lurulu. Finding these books was like finding a $50 bill in a pair of washed jeans. I'm in sci-fi heaven. Vance is a master of thoughtful dialogue and witty repartee. He has an unparalleled vocabulary. He creates remarkable settings and adventures for the spacemen in his books, drawing on his experiences as a Merchant Marine. Reading in an air conditioned room has become the great escape for me, which is what I really need living in a place like this. If not for Phuong and Joanna and good books, the White Monkey might be locked in the white room, with black curtains, near the station ...

Forbidden airport needs overhaul and civility training

Beijing is now a forbidden city for the White Monkey. I've had four connecting flights through Beijing airport, and I've had serious hassles all four times. On my first trip, soldiers stood on either side of me holding machine guns because I didn't have an entry visa for a five-hour layover and a "transfer ticket" for my suitcase. A counter clerk at Beijing made a stink. When I started the trip and checked in at Ho Chi Minh City airport, I expected the suitcase to go through to Dulles in Washington, D.C. -- I'm such an embezzle and maroon, as Bugs Bunny would say. Some shirt-and-tie official intervened, sent the soldiers away and in poor English said I had to retrieve the bag, check in, get another ticket and go through customs, immigration and bag scan again. I nearly missed the connecting flight to D.C. despite the five-hour layover. Really. The second time was a simple three-hour delay and gate change without any announcement in English. The gate change was noted on the schedule board -- the muffled announcement over the loudspeaker in Chinese didn't help. I learned my lesson from hassle #1 and kept checking the board. Hassle #3 was a missed connection due to weather -- we were told by Air China that the plane would wait for us (ha ha, it was one of the few connecting flights that took off on time). The missed flight was followed by a long wait in line for hotel vouchers that ran out, and to make a long, long story short, I got a flight to D.C. the following day. Hassle #4 last week was a simple 2-hour delay and long wait to go though customs and bag checks (again). This layover was also noteworthy for the remarkable rudeness of the staff. I asked the immigration official who checked my passport and ticket: "Where do I go from here?" He responded in what I considered a sharp tone: "You go away. You go away."  I get it. There's a serious language barrier. I'm an ugly American so there's going to be serious cultural differences. But if China is the No. 1 power in the world as some English guy at my former language center once said to me in a snarky tone, the world is in deep trouble. (It seems headed that way with Trump leading the U.S.) I love China -- I'm a devotee of tai chi and one of my tai chi instructors is like a hero to me. The food is OK -- not dazzling, but OK. The Air China flights I've taken have been fine for the most part with good movies, but Beijing airport and the massive amount of people shoving their way through lines there ... come on, this place is out of control and needs an organizational and politeness overhaul. And oddly enough, it's gotten a teeny, tiny bit better -- no more arrival and departure forms for connecting travelers, so maybe there's a teeny, tiny bit of hope.

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It's difficult to describe how happy I was when I saw Phuong at the airport when I arrived at 2:40 a.m. instead of the schedule arrival time of 12:20 a.m. My wife has the most infectious and beautiful smile in the world, and we both smiled the entire, one-hour ride home in a taxi. Other than losing a present for Joanna and the charger for my MacBook Pro -- God knows how -- the trip was pretty much a success for me. Phuong's mom stayed in the house with Joanna, and it was difficult for me not to wake Joanna up and hug and kiss her when I got home. Joanna seemed really thrilled to see me when she woke up and has been showing off for me since I got back. She speaks constantly, and most of it is intelligible -- of course I think she's smart, charming and beautiful, like my other two daughters. Joanna changed quite a bit in the month I was away -- she's even taller and her hair is a shaggy mop. Her language skills are top notch, and her temper and stubbornness are second to none.

* * *

Phuong and I are waiting to hear from the U.S. Embassy to have a visa interview so she can come to the U.S. with me and Joanna to live and work.  We hope for the best, but sometimes I expect the worst. No matter. If she's rejected for what I think would be racist, petty and mean-spirited reasons, I'll simply return to the U.S. annually to take care of my eyes and other business, and then I'll return to Phuong and Joanna. I'd be OK with that because I won't go through Beijing airport anymore.

In the U.S.: Great directions, visa hope, hospitality

One of the reasons I've really enjoyed my time in the U.S.  is that people in Dayton, Ohio, were uncanny when they gave me driving directions to a street, exit ramp, pie shop, or restaurant. The people I asked were thoughtful, respectful, and on the mark every time. Five times I bothered a complete stranger, and the stranger -- didn't matter if it was a man, woman, or child -- politely pointed me in the right direction. One guy said to me: "I'm not real sure, but I think it's on the left-hand side of the road two red lights up on the corner ... a red building. Not sure though." It was like a scene from Fargo. And of course the guy's directions were spot on.  One woman sent me through three lights, over two bridges and around a bend -- and there it was: the pie shop I was looking for with exquisite strawberry pies. A buddy of mine, John, isn't from Dayton but he's from Ohio and is even better with directions. He's more specific and knows the fastest way to get you where you're going. Since my iPhone isn't "connected" in the U.S., there's no navigation help for me. And I'm technically challenged anyway. I had a heck of a drive from Ohio to Hoboken, N.J., across I80 -- a pretty drive that was interrupted when I hit blinding thunderstorms, ridiculous traffic, road construction, and detours that nearly took me through the Holland Tunnel into Manhattan. Don't want to go there. But the kindness of strangers -- a guy from Pakistan and a man from India -- got me to my destination in New Jersey and eventually back to Delaware. See that Donald ... immigrants make our country great (again). Another reason I enjoyed the trip was a good report from my eye doctors. All is stable and my vision has actually improved.
I'm also feeling a little more optimistic about Phuong's chances of getting a visa to the U.S. because I had a very upbeat meeting with our lawyer Katie in Cleveland (and a wonderful lunch as well). We're thinking positive thoughts and we see no violations or fraud as we examine Phuong's immigration history. Phuong will interview at the U.S. Embassy in Ho Chi Minh City either later this year or early next year. If for some reason she gets the visa, we'll be heading to the U.S. fairly quickly. That would be wonderful for my wife and our little girl, Joanna.
Given the possibility of a trip to the U.S. for all of us, I've been poking around at housing on the East Coast. I still have a house in Ohio and we'd likely move there at first to see if it's suitable for Joanna and Phuong. Yellow Springs is a diverse little community, so I'm not worried about how Phuong would be treated there. I was worried about Poland, for example, because I didn't see diversity. But the people in Poland were very nice, with a couple of exceptions. I think Phuong and Joanna will do well no matter where we end up -- I like to threaten with Bhutan, the happiest (and muddiest) place on Earth from what I've heard. So, if we leave Vietnam, it'll be to Ohio and then we'll see.
People in the U.S. were extremely kind to the White Monkey, and they know who they are. I'll mention Andy, Ron and John, who gave me a place to sleep and are three quality human beings and my friends for life (they may not see it that way, but that's how it is for me). Friend Tommy was kind, as always. My ex-wife got me a room at an Inn and drove me to our daughter's house. Robyn at the Springs Motel gave me enough gifts for Joanna to last until Christmas. The Springs is a good place to stay and the staff is great -- Robyn rocks. My brother Tom and his wife Shaila let me have the entire finished basement in their new house and I had some wonderful nights of sleep there. I'm writing this blog from the basement. I played a little tennis as well as I prepare to return to the courts of Vietnam and destroy my wife in our vicious and bitter rivalry. I had a lovely visit with my children and grandchild in Ohio and New York. My kids have grown into remarkable adults. I spent too much time in my expensive rental car because roadwork in the U.S. is pervasive and brutal. Drives that normally take 2 and a half hours were taking me four hours ... ugh! Happened twice on the Washington D.C. to Delaware/Maryland drive. And the Ohio to Delaware/Maryland "commute" usually takes 9 hours at most, but lasted more than 10 hours on this trip. America is being made great again ... one stretch of road at a time.
Leaving for Vietnam on Tuesday. Can't wait to see Phuong and Joanna.