No power; still sick; Joanna and I bond like super glue

We lost power, in every sense of the word, when our electricity was shut off from 8 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. one day last week. Our eight daycare kids got to enjoy our house on a sunny, typically humid, 100-degree day with no air conditioning, a minimum amount of ice, and no functioning fridge for cold drinks. Swimming became the activity of the day, and we let the children stay in the pool as long as they wanted. I went into the kiddie pool as well. There was no napping after a nice, hot lunch of nice, hot soup because there was no air conditioning in our nice, hot nap/play/music/class area.  It was 90 in the house and felt warmer with the kids romping around. I went through four T-shirts, took four showers on the day, and Phuong and I went to bed completely wiped out. I woke up with some weird skin rash on my chest. My poor wife, who does most of the work with the kids, got a rash on her shoulder that required a quick trip to the skin doctor. The kids seemed OK with the heat, and most of them enjoyed the hot soup that is served everywhere all the time. I don't get it, but there are so many things in this world I don't understand.

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I can't shake the flu, cough, sinus mess or whatever that I contracted more than a month ago. Just when I start to feel better, I'll wake up with a sore throat and phlegm in my chest. I've considered the possibility of allergies. There's stuff floating around in the air here beyond my comprehension. I'm very much looking forward to my trip back to the U.S. this year for eye care so I can breathe some clean air again. Yeah, I know that pollution is a fact of life everywhere but it's got a little more juice here since the country is going through something of an industrial revolution in conjunction with its economic development, and it has an increased amount of cars, trucks, motorbikes, people, and people burning trash for religious reasons. Also, the daycare job is a 7:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. gig, so Phuong and I are a little sleep deprived. The trip to the U.S. is looking sweeter and sweeter.

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Phuong's daycare business means Joanna and I are together constantly. We'll dance to "Good Night" by The Beatles and  "Green Rocky Road" by Felix Poppalardi and Creation before naps and bedtime. We'll wake up to "Good Morning Good Morning" by The Beatles. At night, we go "outside" together on our second- and third-floor balconies and look at the neighbor's rats slithering up and down his piles of trash; we'll watch airplanes coming from and going to HCMC; we'll point out the few visible stars and very visible moon in the sky.  Also, Joanna has a remarkable eye: She can spot geckos on black walls at night, and centipedes on the our balconies' floors. And she can see rats like nobody's business -- at the neighbor's, the park, in the streets. I read a minimum of  three stories a day to her, but our library is limited and she has the books memorized. Really. We watch Storybook Nanny videos together, Sesame Street and Dream English with Matt.  The weather and dirty air make going outside difficult at times, but we'll walk to The Coffee House and get a pastry and cappuccino. A lot of people in town know Joanna and seem to take notice of her because she doesn't look like the other kids. Most people are exceptionally nice to her.  I truly believe Joanna belongs in the United States, especially Yellow Springs. She can't believe Jack and his mother cut down the "tree" to kill the giant in Jack and the Beanstalk. "What happened to the tree?" she asks incredulously every time we watch the video. She still talks about the big bug I saved -- it was stuck on its back and being eaten alive by ants on our balcony. Joanna watched in fascination before I flipped it over; it flew away. "Daddy saved the big bug." Maybe I intervened in nature's way and this might not go over real big in Yellow Springs, but a man's gotta do what he thinks is right for his child.

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No word yet on Phuong's interview at the embassy to get a U.S. visa. Our lawyers are double-checking the application and Phuong is obtaining her police records. I expect something might happen in a few months.

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A former high school acquaintance and teammate of mine, Joe Miller, died at the age of 64. I played football and baseball with Miller, and he was a very good athlete. He was awesome in baseball -- had a tremendous arm and amazing pop in his bat. He could run like a deer. Joe was a natural. The thing I liked about Miller was that he wasn't any BS, if you know what I mean. Joe was a straight shooter and didn't get involved in the usual high school crap and locker room nonsense. RIP Joe. I did see Miller wallop a double off the wall about 330 feet away against Rick Widdoes, my wrestling partner/coach/nemesis, who was something of local pitching legend in Delaware. Widdoes recently died.

Eating red ants; giving our daycare kids real American food

Phuong has introduced me to some interesting Vietnamese cuisine lately, most notably a red ant and shredded beef mixture that's a tasty, salty, spicy, crunchy and sour treat. Red ants are served in Thailand, but this particular recipe comes from the central and northern highlands of Vietnam, somewhere north of Da Lat. I'm not a big bug eater, but Phuong insisted I try it. It gets a thumbs-up. The picture doesn't do this concoction justice, but the red ants are clearly visible, not pureed and masked within the shredded beef. The slightly sour taste is most notable and comes from a liquid secreted by the ants when they're threatened, or so I'm told. I guess nothing is quite as threatening as being cooked alive. The beef can be a little chewy, like all beef in Vietnam -- many families use little hammers to pound some tenderness into the beef.  I won't use meat tenderizer, so I like this method if the beef is extremely tough. This food is called KrongPa Gia Lai beef and it's great with beer. But beer seems to work with all food; Phuong and I try anything with our nightly beer; chocolate is a favorite. KrongPa Gia Lai's ingredients are beef, red ants, salt and red chili peppers. One of our daycare moms, An, gave us a sample and now we're hooked. But I consider this more of an occasional treat than a nightly "go-to" snack. For the day-in, day-out eating with beer, I prefer a dried, shredded chicken, lemon and chili pepper mix called kho ga la chanh. The folks at the Craft Beer bar around the corner gave me some when I bought some Estrella Damm beer. Daycare mom An sells us bulk portions of the shredded chicken. Everybody sells stuff on the side in Vietnam, my wife included. I guess I sell English on the side. Anyway, the chicken mix is very spicy and the red peppers are visible and super hot. Joanna calls the snack "Cay Cay" (spicy hot spicy hot) and she'll eat the dried, shredded chicken but avoid the chili peppers. Ice water is kept nearby. This dish keeps the plumbing flowing.

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Including Joanna, we now care for eight children daily at our house, and a ninth is coming soon. In addition to speaking English to the kids (this is the only language I can speak, by the way), I try to get the kids to sample some U.S. food, or at least food from my youth. Buttered toast with sugar and cinnamon is a favorite with the kids. Apples with peanut butter is starting to catch on. Scrambled eggs with cheese is becoming popular. Peanut butter and jelly has flopped. In fact, most of the kids don't like sandwich bread. We'll have cheese, which they enjoy but their parents don't eat, and I make milkshakes, which are now requested by the kids. Phuong and I share cooking duties, but I've slacked off the past week after a relapse of the flu. I don't know if it's genetics or conditioning, but kids and everyone else in this country love hot soup, noodles and rice for breakfast (lunch and dinner, also). When it's 86 degrees Fahrenheit at 7:30 a.m., I can't eat hot soup. I'll have soup once in a while here, but I don't enjoy it because of the heat. I don't care much for the very popular hot pot dishes either, mostly because of the weather but also because of their generic taste.

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No word yet on Phuong's interview, although the government has informed us they've created a "case" for Phuong. They're processing the $475 application fee and after that happens our lawyer will send in some paperwork and hopefully we'll get a date for the interview.

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Rainy season is here, although it seems a bit early to me. Locals don't seem to care when the rains come. They just seem to be real concerned about being out in the rain. Maybe they know the score: I'll walk in the rain if I have to, and I've been very ill twice in the past three weeks. I think it's the daycare kids bringing in viruses and me not getting enough sleep that are the real contributors to my poor health. But locals say, "You don't understand. It's the rain."  It's difficult to argue when you can't breathe through your nose, your chest hurts, and you're sitting on the throne  much of the day.