Police and a bed

The intersections here are a bit of a free-for-all. And the way the traffic is structured, there may be as many as six or eight different lights at an intersection. The locals, of course, understand the system and road structure even though they sometimes ignore both. The White Monkey, however, can get a little confused. I was surrounded by bikes the other night, and one of the lights where I was waiting turned green. All the traffic moves and I follow, like a good monkey. But the bikes all turn right and I'm going straight. So ... I go straight, and apparently run through one of the five or six red lights I ignored. Of course, there are two cops waiting for me as I run through the red. As soon as I pull over, one of the cops shines his flashlight on me and starts yelling. My Vietnamese is only a little better than it was 16 months ago, but I did understand him when he screamed red. He was the "bad cop". I ignored him and turned my attention to the "good cop". I explained in crystal clear English that I saw one of the lights turn green and got confused. He stared at me for a few seconds, then waved me on with a disgusted look on his face. Now that's a good cop.  Once again, following the crowd gets me in trouble. I know people complain about cops, but these guys did OK by me.
 One aspect of life here has changed for the better -- I bought a real bed. Spending money is a joyous occasion. I love it, and I love my new bed. I do my work on the bed, sometimes I sleep there, and best of all, I don't have to climb to my feet from a mattress on the floor to get something in my room. I can just stand up. White monkeys do that from time to time.
Yesterday, I was in my living room counting money in my wallet because I needed to buy some printer ink. I look up and see my neighbor -- in his living room across the street -- watching me count money. He gives me a thumbs-up and a whoops loud enough for me to hear through two sets of closed glass doors. Amazing.
Speaking of printer ink (always a hot topic at the coffee shops), I had to go to five stores yesterday before I found my brand -- the very obscure brand name of Canon. The store where I got the printer doesn't carry the ink anymore. Ugh!
My coffee shop is still rockin' and classes are very good. I'm off today, so I'm just going to lie (I don't think it's lay) on my bed and stare at the mirror on the ceiling. I don't have a mirror on my ceiling.

Politics and keeping it cool

Our province, Dong Nai, made international news last week because of the protests over China's oil drilling near the disputed Paracel Islands. Vietnam and China both claim the islands, and therein lies the dispute. Nationalist fervor is running quite high in Vietnam. I'm not a political person, although I do think Obama is a great president. The Vietnamese clamped down on the protests because of violence and vandalism. All is calm now. I was given a couple of Vietnamese flags to display, but since I want to stay out of the public eye, I hung them in my room, not out of my window. Of course, I support Vietnam. I live here and they pay me, and lately, folks have been rather nice to me. The White Monkey is on their side. Vietnam may take China to international court over the disputed islands.
There's a rat that freely roams our neighborhood day and night. It's a big rascal, so I consider it a community pet rather than a scary nuisance. It ran under my legs as I was sitting on the front steps of my house. And I mean under my legs. It wasn't scared, either. It got into my kitchen once when I left the back door open. I petted it a little and sent it on its way. Good rat. 
The heat has been, well, hot lately. Right now it's 97 degrees fahrenheit and "feels like" 109. Humidity is 47 percent, and usually runs a bit higher. I sweat constantly, but since I've been drinking lots of cokes and stuff, my weight is increasing. I'm bloated like a hippo, but it's so dang hot, I don't care. The heat has mildly affected the students, who seem a little sluggish even though the Vietnamese are clearly better adapted to these conditions than the White Monkey. Understandable that they're uncomfortable, but classes are going well. Kids classes are awesome.
I went to see the 3-D movie Godzilla with my F3A3 class at the local cinema -- or as I call it,  the internet/chat room at CinePlex. The F3A3 kids got tickets as a prize for their outstanding efforts in the Go Green competition. I had to pay for my ticket. Before the movie, I got the kids some drinks: they had Red Bull, Sting, soda and coffee. They're 10, 11, and 12 years old. We had a blast! We walked to the cinema, and hung out, and did the usual kids' stuff before and after the movie. I felt young again -- not a day over 58. That was the first 3-D I've ever seen, and it was very cool. The subtitles hung in mid-air. Wow!
Riding the bike is no longer an adventure. It's a pain in the ass, just like driving a car in the U.S. I even answered my cell phone while riding the other day. What a jerk I am! I can smoke and ride, also. Aren't you going to congratulate me?
I need to buy some furniture because sleeping and lesson planning on a foam mattress on the floor isn't working. I "talked" to a local shop owner, and I agreed to buy a desk, but the chair didn't work out. Maybe next time.
I love my coffee shop -- with servers Nguyen and Nguyen -- because they know what I want and the customers leave me alone, which is the big plus. I don't want to teach English after I finish teaching English. I do hear lots of sad stories from the young girls here, who all love me. But even if the stories aren't true, it's sad the girls would make something like that up. The decisions these girls make to earn money can be distressing, to say the very least.
But my focus is teaching and the students, and that's what keeps me smiling. No sob story here. At least not today.

Sleep forever

I was reviewing a little vocabulary the other day with a mid-level class and I asked them: "What is death?" It was in one of our stories, so don't think I'm morbid or weird. I'm both, but you don't have to think it. I was wondering how I would answer when one of the students blurted out: "It's when you sleep forever." That's one of the reasons why I love teaching. What a great answer. Now, our class joke is: "I'm going home and going to sleep .... forever."
My Bien Hoa neighbors are almost too nice, if that's possible. I said almost because I always accept what they offer, from bananas and local exotic fruits,  to wedding anniversary soup and French bread and iced coffee. Delivery is free. I've never had neighbors this nice anywhere in the world. The traffic comes by and the riders still stare and say silly "Hello's" and "How are you's?" to me, and now the neighbors smile, as if they understand the perils of being a white monkey. The massage girl loves the white monkey moniker because of my body hair, but I don't like when she tries to pluck my body hair out. It's not nice to tease the white monkey. The Vietnamese are just about hairless, and a good wind could blow the whiskers off the guys' faces.
We had our Go Green competition at our school, with the finals at the VMG Cambridge ceremony. Honestly, I'm glad it's over. It became something of an obsession, with winning being very, very, very, very important. Understand ? (hieu?). My F3A2 class -- kids from 10 -12 years old -- came in second. I think we were the youngest group. I really don't care how we finished because these students understand Ladies First and Clean Up Your Mess. We had pizza to celebrate the fact they learned the important lessons. Great kids, one and all. And they get it.
After more than a year here, I've learned the flow and some important lessons. I'm too big to park my motorbike where everyone else does, because I can never get it out without knocking over other bikes. Kind of like Pee Wee Herman in that one funny movie he made. Don't carry much money. People love to look in your wallet, so I fill my wallet with rubber bands. Don't stare back at the gawkers. It only encourages a longer stare. The head-down nod seems to work best.  Don't tip like you are in the USA. People, especially the young girls, will think you have money, and they'll bother you and ask for your phone number.  They don't actually like the white monkey, but they love the white money. Of course, this is not everyone. But it exists and it's reality. The white monkey doesn't lie, or tip like he used to. The kids here can fix anything. When something breaks in class, I ask the students to deal with it because I'll just screw it up. Don't drink the tap water. Best of all, the folks here don't hold a grudge -- at least 99 percent don't. You can have "a moment" with someone in a store or at work, and the next time you see them it's like it never happened. I love that.

I love you, I love you, I love you

Yeu va tien. Life here requires an open mind ... and heart ... and wallet. I've already had three girls tell me they love me. Well, of course they do. At least they waited a week or so before they made this dramatic proclamation. I'm not sure these women understand the full impact of this statement. Or maybe it's a language thing. Really, I just don't know. I think "thich" means like, but it has stronger implications, according to some of my students, who I really thich. Anyway, I've had about 15 "I love you's" in a little more than a year. That's more than I got in 15 or so years of marriage ... just kidding, sort of. My marriage ended in divorce because I was a turd. But I digress. The thing you learn as an old fart is that something as strong as love takes time. I draw a graph for the students, showing how affection develops and grows over time. I know there's love at first sight and things like that, but that works best in books and movies. But it's tricky. "I love pizza." But not as a life-long partner to share my life and bed. However, I do wonder what the kids would look like?  Language and feelings are so difficult to express sometimes.
Ah, but everyone understands tien ... money.  We love money, don't we? I get it. Being poor sucks, sucks, sucks. But when money motivates "love", I have a bad feeling in my heart and wallet. I had a job making good money in the USA and I was very unhappy. I worked at a nature center for quite a bit less money and I was very happy. But that's me. Money comes and money goes, whether it's a lot or a little. There isn't much money here for a lot of the people, so I understand. Life can be very difficult for these folks and they make tough decisions. Sometimes, it makes me sad.
Speaking of money, I want to quit cigarettes but they're so damn cheap here. Look at the picture and caption. Not many people speak English here, so I am alone a lot, in a manner of speaking. But I'm not completely alone since I have 555 to keep me company. Is it worth dying for?  Co the ... maybe. We all die anyway.
Sorry for the weird blog. See what happens when you're alone a lot? But really, I love you guys. 

It all adds up

The woman who runs the little general store next to my wonderful new house is impressed with my math. I always could do basic moron math pretty quickly in my head, so I can give her the cost and the change I'm due in an instant. (Money is king here, so that's a good skill to have.) That doesn't stop her from bringing out a small calculator to double-check my head math, and I'm always right except when she gets the English incorrect and tells me the tea cost 80,000 instead of 8,000. But I give this woman credit. She puts the correct numbers in the calculator even if she can't say them, and the totals match my head math. I can say all the Vietnamese numbers but no one understands me. I understand them however, and that's what really matters. The couple than runs a little shop next to our school encourage my Vietnamese and we work on numbers and adding together. They're great. My neighbor across our busy street is wonderful and brought me iced coffee tonight after I ate my dinner on the front step. I always eat on the front step because there's always a breeze off the Dong Nai river near my 'hood. Wonderful, even when the passers-by give me the ungodly white monkey stare when they ride by me. A couple of guys almost got into head-on collisions with oncoming traffic because they kept looking back at the white monkey as they rode down the road. The breeze is appreciated because it has been in the 90s every day with oppressive humidity. Lovely. The heat has even been bothering the Vietnamese, but they still wear hoodies and sweatshirts. Go figure.
I met a female and as soon as we had a couple of "dates" she made her move. She thought I liked her so she started asking via text for money. And jewelry. And money. How sad. And I thought she actually liked me. How sad.
One reassuring thing here is that kids are kids everywhere (as my mentor teacher Laurie Dewey wrote on one of my facebook pictures). There's attitude and all the other good stuff that comes with being 12 to 18 years old.  Gotta love it. The kids are great, and really I encourage the attitude with a little bit of a free-wheeling style of teaching. I don't like being a disciplinarian but I'll do what's necessary to keep order in the classroom. I found a new massage parlor -- the workers laughed at me at my old parlor when I got dizzy and almost fell over a box they left next to my feet. The new parlor is fine, but more expensive.
I'm more comfortable on the motorbike and know to expect the unexpected. But I never relax. Anywhere.

Life in the 'hood

Living in a Bien Hoa "neighborhood" is such an improvement over a hotel or ex-pat housing (white monkey cage). Once the neighbors get over the initial shock of seeing a white monkey coming and going at odd hours (because of my odd schedule hours), they're really great. When I first moved in, I gave everyone living near me pastries from ABC, and they acted a little confused. No smiles, nothing. What does the white monkey want? Nothing, really. Then I broke my automatic door by being stupid, and everyone came out to watch me struggle to get back into my house. They tried to help, but when you do something stupid you don't really want people climbing over you to help. The door is fixed, but I'm still stupid. Anyway, time seems to make things better. The staring stopped, and it was replaced by smiles and nods. The neighbors across the street gave me bananas and traditional Vietnamese food -- meat and mashed beans wrapped in rice that was green, probably from the beans. The whole thing, about the size of a sub, was wrapped in paper that was tied with string. Sorry, no picture because I ate it right away. I returned the favor with more pastries and this time there were thank-you's and smiles all around. It really makes a difference being part of a community, and I realized (with help from my sage friend Tom E.) that this is certainly  a more communal society than the U.S., or even Peru. People live close to each other here, and they do what they have to do to make it work. I get it.
Of course, this doesn't change the wretched motorbike riding, where what seems to work is "I get ahead, I get mine, and screw you." Same philosophy seems to hold true in certain stores, especially in line. The other day at the electronics store I frequent, however, a gentleman realized I had been waiting and he REFUSED to cut in front of me and told me to go ahead. First time in a year that's happened.  I wept openly.
But when you think about it, which is difficult for me sometimes, I recall drivers in the U.S. and Peru  being chuckleheads, and butting their butts in line or whatever.
I still don't go out much for fear of hassle I don't need or want, but I've developed a circle of stores and coffee shops that I trust. And they treat me well enough. I think every white person should go somewhere where they're really the minority (and not just a wealthy tourist) and feel the vibe others have to feel. There I go, thinking again.
Sad news: Three really nice staffers are leaving VMG. I will especially miss the beautiful Le Chinh :) and not only because she's beautiful. She was always very cheerful and helpful, even when I irritated her, which was every day.  Dorothy and Van are also leaving, and they're both very good people.  Later, guys.
It's been really hot here. In the 90s every day and guess what? It's humid. It makes me think of Arequipa, Peru, weather .... the best weather in the world. 

Happy days are here again

The great thing about the stock market is that it usually goes up after it hits rock bottom. This was true even after the Great Depression, like the one I had in Bien Hoa this past week. The rebound is in full force. First, my neighbors stopped staring at me. They, like everyone else in the world, probably realized I'm not much to look at. I've avoided the hot spots where people don't like me because, well, because I'm there and they don't like my face for whatever reason. I've minimized contact with people who seem irritated by my presence. Really, the nice people in Vietnam are some of the nicest people I've ever met anywhere in the world. (Knuckleheads are knuckleheads everywhere as well.) The guy at the nursery hooked me up with awesome plants and trees, then tied the stuff to my bike, which he then turned in the proper direction for me. The girls at the coffee shop actually know what I order and begin preparing it when my bike pulls up. I don't have to order. And they tease me about my Vietnamese in the most pleasant way. I'm drinking lots of coffee these days. A lady at Metro -- my new supermarket -- walked the entire store with me to help me find some items I needed for class. She must share my fondness for students. And my students are the greatest. I teach lots of different classes, and every class is a real pleasure. I honest-to-god look forward to teaching.  Since I understand grammar now, I do my best to make it simple, clear, and as much fun as grammar can be. Grammar isn't much fun, and games seem to cloud the issue, so I use my stellar personality to deliver the information. OK, so the grammar lessons are still a challenge.
Riding the motorbike everywhere is becoming like driving a car in the USA. Kids, and everyone else, drive like lunatics everywhere ... the USA, Peru, Vietnam. Crazy drivers are a universal truth. I may have been one myself, having totaled a car or two in my day. The point is, I was pissed off at this place for a while. When people scream at you when you try to help, or curse at you for no reason when you eat dinner, or stare at you like you're something less than human (white monkey) in 95-degree heat, then maybe you have a right to be pissed off. It doesn't change things, but it helps keep you sane in an insane world. Since I do not yell back well, or think fast on my feet, I use this blog to defend myself.  I can calmly think and say the things I should have said when I was unjustly confronted.  So to the folks who think I'm whiny, or a complainer, or a negative person, I want to say one thing: the best revenge is to live well and be happy.