Quality of life

I'm finally getting the visiting children situation under control. The entrance way in my house, where I park my bike, is now the kids' zone. There are puzzles, crayons, a game or two, and clay. To enter, you have be 7 or older. And kids can't come past the couch into my kitchen or beyond without special written consent. A couple of real little guys were wandering in, and it made me uncomfortable. They're banned. The visitors are wonderful. They cheered when I rather quickly cut a carrot down to size for stew. The only parent I have met is Huong's mom, a nice lady who suggested English lessons for Huong. I tried to tell mom that Huong comes over to play with the toys and watch some TV, and that she wasn't interested in having English lessons. Huong, who's 7, is remarkably well-behaved and fun-loving. She's one of the awesome neighbors I have. Clearly, along with the students, my neighbors are one of the highlights of living in Bien Hoa. They give me food and drinks, and they're always willing to help. Phuong and her family have improved my quality of life, although I do spend lots of money at their store. It's worth it.
Actually, many people want English lessons from the White Monkey.  Or they want a freebie now and then. I don't mind chatting with the "now and then" crowd if we have a coffee or something, but I don't give formal lessons. With my job, I don't think I can. I don't want to anyway. The job is great and it keeps me pretty busy. Best of all, VMG has been good to me.
I'm glad I found my supermarket, which carries tons of food I recognize. It's a taste of home. I'll be honest: I'm not enamored with the local cuisine. The street food in Peru was much better. But to be fair, I'm still learning my way around here, and I've had a few fantastic local dishes lately -- the neighbors made some great pho and passion fruit juice. My problem: I don't care for rice and I don't like real chewy seafood.
The mix of cars and motorbikes here isn't a good one. People drive cars like they're on a motorbike. They rarely signal, cut you off in a heartbeat, and pull out on you like you're not there. It adds a whole new dimension to defensive driving. No wonder I'm so happy in the classroom.
Booked a flight back to the U.S. and I'll be there over Thanksgiving. Really looking forward to seeing my family, especially my children -- Jessica, Caroline, Jack and Alec. Can't wait to see some old friends as well. 

You dirty rat

 The White Monkey loves all of God's creatures, but that doesn't mean he will give them a free place to stay and eat. So imagine my surprise when I finally got around to cleaning my house and found a rat living under my couch. My new best friend Huong, 7, was in my house playing with clay and looking in my refrigerator when I saw the rat while I was cleaning. The rat wouldn't come out from under the couch, so I dragged the couch to my front door (with Huong sitting on it laughing), and pushed the rat outside with a broom. The rat acted a little dopey, like maybe it was dying, but I'm glad I spotted it. I always wondered who was watching TV when I was upstairs late at night. My neighbor across the street used two leaves and picked up the rat by its tail and moved it so I could get a better picture. Thoughtful neighbor. Inconsiderate rat. My house is clean again and all (or most) of God's creatures are living outside. By the way, the rat was much quieter than the kids who come visit.
I've had better weeks at work. A boy in a kids class imitated and mimicked everything I said in a Donald Duck voice. I tolerated it at first, but asked him to stop. After the 33rd time he did it, I sent him out of class for a minute to cool off. He was OK but his buddy in class decided to act up. Ugh. Once everybody settled down, class was over. Since these guys have no English, class rules don't mean much. I act the rules out and I think they get it, but they can always claim they didn't understand me.  Regardless, no one leaves the room unless they ask. If they just walk out, which they tried to do, the White Monkey turns red and beats his chest. Later, when I was complaining about having to wait nearly 30 minutes for a ride, one girl who I won't identify, tells me I should go back to the U.S. I later explained in a somewhat agitated manner that in the USA, in my culture, it's rude to make someone wait when you tell them a time to be somewhere. The girl, who I still won't identify, tells me: "This isn't your culture. You're in our culture, Vietnamese culture."  OK, but why have schedules then? I know the students expect me to be on time. They can be late because they pay, but I can't be late because I'm getting paid.  Whatever. The kids are still great, the classes and students are still great, and my neighborhood and neighbors are great. I'm sure locals think I'm a whiner, which I am sometimes (it must be my culture), but I'm a whiner who shows up on time.
My spending spree continues.  After I bought the iPod, I purchased an iPad (Apple notebook-type thingy) from my neighbor Phuong. She's been very helpful, assisting me in transferring data from my laptops to the iPad.  She's not quite super cool yet, but she's getting there. Phuong's mom made me some wonderful coffee, so mom is close to super cool.
I love the numbers song, and so do my students. Well, most of them. It's the song where they sing all the numbers to 100, then go up to 1 trillion. The reason I mention this is because I'm about to hit a milestone -- 10,000 page views for my blog. I know my blog kinda sucks, but some people like to keep in touch or they're curious about the White Monkey. I've had hits from countless countries, including Sweden, Norway,  Peru, Russia, Germany, Egypt, Algeria. Everywhere, really. The Vietnamese are the most loyal readers these days, and the USA has provided the most page views overall. I thank each and every person who has clicked on my blog and read my boring, self-centered, poorly worded, inconsequential drivel. THANK YOU ONE AND ALL!!!

Cool

I bought an iPod and it's changed my life. No longer do I hear "What your name? How are you? Where you from?"  I understand that most of these folks want to be friendly to the White Monkey, but sometimes I just want to take a walk or have coffee or have dinner without providing an impromptu English lesson or engage in very basic conversation. I'm thinking of getting cards printed: John. Fine, thank you. USA.
Really, walking is the best way to get around and see the city, where there are countless coffee shops and Karaoke bars. Since I have the music on and I'm wearing pretty big headphones, fewer people shout at me.  Some guys scream and try to break through my sound barrier, but it ain't happening. The town has some hidden gems, like a well-stocked jewelry store, pastry shops, nurseries, bookstores, and food everywhere. The prices are reasonable. Do I miss the sounds of the city with music cranked up? Hell no. I enjoy not listening to the buzz of motorbikes. The sights and dirty air are enough for me at this time.
My neighbor Phuong went from cool to way cool when she gave me an iPod cover (photo on right). She was cool when she got rid of a virus/bug on my computer. The iPod cover -- way cool. Her mom made me lunch today, and it was great. Noodles with beef, garlic, onion and tomato. I've said it before several times, but really, my neighbors are super people. I feel very lucky, except when the local kids come and hassle me. But they're fun, I like them, and they leave when I tell them to in my pathetic Vietnamese.
My new kids class went from quiet and really reserved to, well, a kids class. And that's great news. They're fun, silly, a little noisier, and a joy to teach. Seriously, I was a little worried about them at first. Once, I told them they could do some puzzles or work with clay, and they just sat there. So I emptied the bags I brought onto the floor. The clay and puzzles spilled out, and the kids timidly got up and eventually settled in with the stuff.  It took a little time, but we're buddies now. Seeing a positive change in kids makes teaching the best job I've ever had. I had one little girl who seemed a little angry and didn't do much work. With a little extra attention and encouragement, we've bonded and she's become one of my top students. That's why I love my job, whether it's here, Peru or the USA.
Speaking of the USA, I've been homesick lately. When I go home in November, that'll cure me. Really miss seeing my kids, although I realize they're incredibly busy. Yet another shout-out to Ron for keeping my cat alive. Actually, for keeping HIS cat alive. After my family, Ron is one of the reasons I miss the USA.
Rainy season is hot and heavy these days. There are daily downpours, followed by beautiful heat and humidity.  I love the rain. The locals hate it and complain about being cold when it rains. I guess it's what you're used to.
I stopped getting massages. Too complicated.

Head-on collision

I was leaving work last week at 6 p.m. or so because my next class wasn't until 7:30. So I had to cross the very busy street in front of our school. Traffic laws in Vietnam are like marriage vows. Everyone knows them and everyone ignores them, except lawyers, cops and ex-wives. So I'm working my way across the street through a steady stream of traffic. It's standard practice here. The bikes swerve around you and eventually you'll merge into your targeted lane, which is another thrilling adventure. This time, however, as I rode into the oncoming traffic, a bike swerved around me but a tailgater didn't see me and we banged into each other head-on.  Our bikes went down, but both of us were standing. His bike's front fender was shattered into little pieces all over the road. My bike was fine. He stood glaring for a moment, but I simply motioned to the sidewalk and said  "over there." We pushed our bikes through the traffic to the sidewalk. After a 30-second inspection of our bikes, we shrugged and went our merry ways. He refused my offer of money for his fender. What a cool guy. No injuries, no problem.
A couple of former students went to dinner with me last week. I had on white pants and a white shirt with blue stripes. When I met one of the students, Valentine, near the restaurant, she looked at my outfit and said: "You really are a white monkey."  Funny kid.
I had a young kids class today. When I first taught them a few weeks ago, they were eerily quiet and well-behaved for 8 and 9 year olds. Children of the corn? A few weeks with me and that's all changed. We had to have a short class meeting today about asking for permission to leave the room and using our "inside voices".   Regardless, these kids speak good English when they want to and they leave the room immaculate after playing with clay and anything else. One of the kids gave me her ruler as a gift. She is now my favorite student :).  Great class.
I'm happy here, but I do get irritated when I have to wait for people when I'm told to be somewhere at a certain time. I'm there, but the other party isn't. I'm waiting in the heat -- it's about 94 or so everyday with 85 percent humidity.  Then when the other person arrives late, they ask me why I'm sweating. Or they say I appear to be in a bad mood. Then they tell me to hurry up because WE'RE late. When you're old like me, you realize life is shorter and waiting doesn't figure into the schedule. OK, I'm done whining now, but I'm still sweating.
I bought an ipod but don't have a clue how to use it. My neighbor Phuong, who sold me the thing, has been very helpful. But like any good tech person, she does stuff really fast and seems confused I'm not following along well.
The staff is going on a 3-day holiday to the beach next week. I'm staying in Bien Hoa, so they scheduled me to work a full week, I guess.  Keep the White Monkey busy. Khong sao.

Embarrassing day

I do not like to write too much but I have to mention some embarrassing things that happened to me yesterday before I forget them.  Not likely, but possible.
First, I was in the bathroom upstairs, doing what all of us do in a bathroom. While I'm sitting on the throne and checking phone messages, the bathroom door opens and one of the neighborhood boys, about 6, is standing there talking to me in Vietnamese. I asked him to hand me the toilet paper, but he ignored me and kept talking. I told him to di di di. He di-ed and I finished my business. Later, another boy, about 9, came into my bedroom as I sat naked on my bed applying lotion to my many rashes. I chased him out as well. Later, I gathered all the neighborhood kids to my living room, and acted out that it's OK to come into my house and living room, but tre em (children) DO NOT COME UPSTAIRS. I still won't lock my front door, and I think the kids understood my message. They're great kids ... downstairs.
Later that night, I taught a bunch of 20-year-olds. With my zipper down most of the class. This class is awesome, and I think they like me. I don't know now. Maybe they like me more, but I doubt it. I asked why they didn't say something to me, and they said they couldn't remember the word for zipper.
Earlier, an administrator sent me a text telling me what pages to teach in the nearby town of Long Thanh.  But she didn't send the message to me. She sent it to someone else. The someone else took offense, for some odd reason, and wrote back: BAD WORD-You. The administrator thought I wrote the nasty reply and began asking folk what was wrong with John. The White Monkey is usually so gentle, so she was confused. It all got straightened out, eventually, so I went to the bathroom and pulled my zipper up.
All in a day.

Coke for a wedding gift?

Coca-Cola has a nifty promotion here, They put Vietnamese names, like Phuong or Thao, on the cans and plastic. They make for an inexpensive gift, but that comes with a risk. I gave a can to the girl who gives me a massage, and now she's planning the wedding. Another lady was planning our wedding, but no worries. I'm pretty sure she has a boyfriend, and she doesn't show up for our dates. Relationships are a trip here. The language barrier contributes to the misunderstandings, I'm sure, I've written about love and like before, and some of the girls don't know the difference ... or care. The White Monkey is much wiser these days.
The neighborhood kids are pretty comfortable with the White Monkey and his athletic equipment. I'll give the girls some papers to color, and I need to get some crayons for them. If they are coloring or playing sports, they're not teasing the White Monkey. But the kids are great. They'll just walk into my house and start poking around. They take the balls out to play, but they always return them. Good kids. One boy came up to my bedroom while I was getting ready for work. I chased him out, but I still don't lock my door when I'm home. I know I'm inviting trouble, but I don't care. If I have to live behind locked doors in the day, why live? I could do something really fun or stupid, go to prison, and live behind locked doors the rest of my life. I'm not ready for that ... yet.
Speaking of comfortable, two women go through the neighborhood and collect plastic. I guess they take it somewhere for money. The women sit on my front step and wait for me, ask for food, drink, and money ... and plastic.  I give them plastic and drinks, but no food or money. I guess I could spare some bread or something, but I don't want them there all the time,  so... no food or money. The younger girl in the plastic pair has started acting flirty with me, like that's going to change my mind. It's not working. I'm such a wise White Monkey.
Rainy season is really rainy right now. Every day there's a downpour, so I put on the raincoat and ride the bike. I still get wet, but when it rains, it's usually much cooler (85-90 degrees). I like the rain, but the Vietnamese seem to believe it brings bad luck and illness. I disagree, but this ain't my country. I still say Please, Excuse me, Thank You and You're welcome. What the hell do I know?
My skin continues to give me difficulties from the heat and sweating when I teach in hot classrooms. Without too much gruesome detail, let me just say that I'm a walking rash. Everywhere. I use salt when I shower, and that seems to be helping somewhat.  That's my late dad's idea. Too bad he's not alive. I could thank him.
Classes are good, and the coffee shop is good. I've begun taking walks around the neighborhood, and other than the silly HELLO, HOW ARE YOU? it's quite enjoyable. Afterwards, I soak in salt.
I'll keep working on my skin and relationships until I leave this place. I have a target date to quit smoking, but I've never let that stop me before. I hate quitters.

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.