My son Alec arrived in HCMC late Wednesday night and we've been having a blast ever since. Thursday featured head and shoulder massages for Alec and I from two giggling girls, duck for lunch, a long walk to Lido and a short walk to Ghita for coffees, and Phuong's fabulous cooking -- beef, sprouts, onions, garlic and stuff I don't know.
We got up early Friday and, after a stop at ABC Bakery for cheese danish, our driver took us to Vung Tau. Phuong hooked us up with a room next to the beach. She's so cool and awesome. Anyway, we immediately went swimming in the salty and ridiculously warm South China Sea and enjoyed the heck out of it. Phuong surprised Alec and I with how long she stayed in the water and bounced around. Alec enjoyed himself despite jet lag, and the White Monkey attempted to heal his battered body with the salty sea water. Friday was great because the crowds hadn't arrived yet for the holiday weekend. For lunch, we went to a seafood place where you selected the fresh crabs and shrimp you wanted the restaurant to cook. Not too shabby. We returned to the beach for more swimming. For dinner, we took a taxi into the heart of Vung Tau and ate at a Bien Hoa-like outdoor restaurant where we had octopus and some unknown tasty fish along with the greatest fish spring rolls I've ever eaten. Good coffee and lousy pastries followed dinner.
I was shocked at how clean and nice Vung Tau was ... at least the parts we went to. One of the foreign teachers recently quit my school in Bien Hoa to work in Vung Tao, and now I see why.
We got up early Saturday, had lousy, cold coffee and lots of bacon at our breakfast buffet, and then Phuong and I returned to the sea for more bouncing around. Alec relaxed on the beach. The scene was quite different Saturday because hordes of Vietnamese vacationers were on the beach, in the water, and at the buffet. They were pretty cool, but there were lots and lots and lots of them. And 90 percent of them swim in long pants and long-sleeved shirts. The sun is the enemy to these people. Makes sense, I guess.
We checked out and went to a fish/oyster/crab farm on the outskirts of Vung Tau and took a boat to lunch ... all arranged by my incredible wife Phuong. We had a superb lunch of milk octopus, regular octopus, shrimp with sweet and sour sauce, cooked oysters and raw oysters. The raw oysters were unbelievable. Really. I had about a dozen with a wonderful hot sauce. We stopped in Long Thanh to pick up some milk and yogurt on our way home. A happy day, indeed. Alec seemed to enjoy himself, even after I insisted on a long walk in the brutal heat when we got home. No one had dinner. We just slept. As it should be. A mighty thank you to Phuong for doing all the legwork on our little trip. She's the best. I'm the second-best because I still haven't had a cigarette since my motorbike accident five weeks ago.
Also, I feel compelled to mention that one of the passengers on the boat that took us to lunch said I looked like a Hollywood actor. But he didn't say which one. (Maybe it was Ernest Borgnine.) I told Phuong she can now call me Mr Hollygood.
Saturday, April 30, 2016
Sunday, April 24, 2016
Hot hockey, litter, a due date
The Vietnam heat has been relentless. It has been 36 to 37 degrees Celsius every day (about 98 or 99 Farenheit). The humidity is probably in the 60s and 70s. Luckily, I haven't been working a ton of hours, but when I do teach, I drip sweat on papers, on my computer, but never on my students. I'm careful about that. But the students grab the air conditioner remote before I get in the classroom and set the temperature to 29 degrees Celsius, which is a sticky 84 F. Teaching in those conditions is miserable for the White Monkey, but the students are chilly (the girls should wear more clothes). Only two things annoy me more: When students say "What the f$%^@" for no reason or when they immediately ask me to "Play game teacher?" But my classes are going quite well and work is a highlight at the moment. The students are great.
The big reminder of my motorbike accident is persistent pain in my right ankle. The doctor mentioned something about a tiny fracture, but said nothing more after that. I continue my daily walks with my cane and I do tai chi in the sometimes trashy, smelly park. My tai chi isn't very good at the moment with the bad ankle.
Litter in the park makes me sad because the park has real potential. But so many people here just don't get it. Littering in Bien Hoa is as natural as staring at foreigners. Adults throw crap out of trucks and off motorbikes -- and laugh about it, students throw trash on the floor at my school (and I make them pick it up, which they hate), and little kids buy candy and immediately throw the wrappers in the street. Happy Earth Day (April 22) everyone! One of my Vietnamese students had a great line last year about Earth Day: "Earth Day is when people in Bien Hoa turn off their lights and go outside and throw trash in the street." Some of the kids are starting to get it, but it's going take a little time.
There was a wedding outside our house on Saturday, which means the street closes and people sing wretched karaoke. It's quite fun, really.
One of my facebook friends mentioned that in my pose with the cane I looked like I was going to cross check someone (a nasty ice hockey maneuver). I haven't had to go to that extreme yet on the walk, although sidewalk motorbike riders and corner cutters have banged into my cane on several occasions. I don't flinch and in the NHL I might have picked up a slashing penalty or two, but the refs here would probably say play on. When guys and girls are on the motorbike in Bien Hoa, they only care about themselves. That's why the cane is invaluable. I'll use the cane even if my ankle gets better.
The best thing to come out my accident is that I haven't had a cigarette in over a month. Phuong is thrilled, and the slight, lingering discomfort in my right lung from the wreck serves as an incentive to not smoke. I don't even care if I put on weight. Besides, I'm married now anyway.
Phuong got jealous of my cooking and cleaning, and we've been competing to do chores. It's kind of fun because we'll play "rock, scissors, paper" to do dishes and such. Problem is, Phuong never, ever loses ... so I've become chore boy again.
Phuong's visit to the hospital in Ho Chi Minh City went well and the doctor gave us a due date of July 4. That means nothing here. The baby is a little bigger than average. Everyone asks if we're having a boy or girl, and of course we say we don't care, which is true. We don't. We just hope and pray for a healthy, normal baby.
My son Alec will be here in a few days. Awesome. Really miss all of my children.
The big reminder of my motorbike accident is persistent pain in my right ankle. The doctor mentioned something about a tiny fracture, but said nothing more after that. I continue my daily walks with my cane and I do tai chi in the sometimes trashy, smelly park. My tai chi isn't very good at the moment with the bad ankle.
Litter in the park makes me sad because the park has real potential. But so many people here just don't get it. Littering in Bien Hoa is as natural as staring at foreigners. Adults throw crap out of trucks and off motorbikes -- and laugh about it, students throw trash on the floor at my school (and I make them pick it up, which they hate), and little kids buy candy and immediately throw the wrappers in the street. Happy Earth Day (April 22) everyone! One of my Vietnamese students had a great line last year about Earth Day: "Earth Day is when people in Bien Hoa turn off their lights and go outside and throw trash in the street." Some of the kids are starting to get it, but it's going take a little time.
There was a wedding outside our house on Saturday, which means the street closes and people sing wretched karaoke. It's quite fun, really.
One of my facebook friends mentioned that in my pose with the cane I looked like I was going to cross check someone (a nasty ice hockey maneuver). I haven't had to go to that extreme yet on the walk, although sidewalk motorbike riders and corner cutters have banged into my cane on several occasions. I don't flinch and in the NHL I might have picked up a slashing penalty or two, but the refs here would probably say play on. When guys and girls are on the motorbike in Bien Hoa, they only care about themselves. That's why the cane is invaluable. I'll use the cane even if my ankle gets better.
The best thing to come out my accident is that I haven't had a cigarette in over a month. Phuong is thrilled, and the slight, lingering discomfort in my right lung from the wreck serves as an incentive to not smoke. I don't even care if I put on weight. Besides, I'm married now anyway.
Phuong got jealous of my cooking and cleaning, and we've been competing to do chores. It's kind of fun because we'll play "rock, scissors, paper" to do dishes and such. Problem is, Phuong never, ever loses ... so I've become chore boy again.
Phuong's visit to the hospital in Ho Chi Minh City went well and the doctor gave us a due date of July 4. That means nothing here. The baby is a little bigger than average. Everyone asks if we're having a boy or girl, and of course we say we don't care, which is true. We don't. We just hope and pray for a healthy, normal baby.
My son Alec will be here in a few days. Awesome. Really miss all of my children.
Sunday, April 17, 2016
Pain, pain goes away
A life of pain would be impossible. I hurt pretty bad for more than three weeks from my stupid bike accident and began to feel despair, depression and frustration. I wondered if I was ever going to stop hurting. The good news ... make that great news for me, at least ... is that the pain in my back subsided. I can sleep, cough, fart and sneeze again without fear of agonizing pain in my chest, ribs, right lung, and back. It's a whole new world. Father Time may be undefeated when it comes to sports and life, but pain strikes fear in the hearts of all mortals. My right ankle still hurts quite a bit, but I can walk and stand well enough to teach. I never sit when I teach, and my ankle throbs afterwards, but that's not really an issue for the White Monkey. l can stand the pain, so to speak, and have even returned to some tai chi in the park after a walk to the coffee shop by the river. When I take my walk to the coffee shop -- about three miles round-trip from our house -- I carry a cane. It's actually a bamboo stick with a rubber tip taken from some crutches. The cane has been invaluable keeping num-nuts on their bikes away from me. People on their bikes here are stupid, selfish and dangerous, and not always in that order. They ride on sidewalks when I'm walking and almost hit me; they cut corners so close they almost hit me when I cross the street; and they come up behind me when I walk in the street and, yes, almost hit me. But I have a solution. My cane goes from a vertical to horizontal position when a bike approaches the White Monkey too closely. And the morons who want to intimidate the White Monkey or just be stupid seem to get the message. The bikers give me a little room now because they don't want a bamboo stick across their face. I would never try to hurt anyone or be aggressive, but I won't get hit by some idiot who wants to show off. If it's me or the idiot, it ain't gonna be me. That idiot can live with three or more weeks of pain. I've already done that, so I'll pass on another collision.
I lost my cool at Metro with a line-cutter. When you buy cooked food, you have to ring a bell to get a guy or gal to come from the back and serve you. When I tried to make eye contact with the servers instead of ringing the bell, they didn't get it. So I rang the bell, a guy came out, and some woman appears out of nowhere, honest to god bangs into me, and shouted her order of three chicken wings to the server. The guy waited on her and ignored me (the bell ringer), and that's when I kind of lost it. But this crap happens every day here. Happened in Peru, too, but the staff was much nicer in Peru and the weather was the best in the world. Oh, the weather is rough, rough, rough here. Midday temps are in the upper-90s with 90 percent humidity. Rainy season will be a relief, except when I ride the motorbike to work in the rain.
Phuong speaks very good English, but sometimes she doesn't get the words 100 percent correct. But it's OK because her "mistakes" are cute and make me smile. For example, she assures me that even if a really handsome man from "Hollygood" came on to her, she would still stand by her man, whoever the hell that is. When I tell Phuong about some pinhead who almost hit on his bike, she tells me not to worry about the "slow life" of Bien Hoa. I think she means low life, but slow life works for me as well. And Phuong's college teacher taught her to start a lot of sentences with "summarize." She'll say things like: "Summarize, I'm tired and hungry. Summarize, the baby is moving a lot today."
My son Alec will be here in 10 days and I'm super excited. Alec is quite handsome. He's no slow life. Summarize, he looks like a guy from Hollygood.
I lost my cool at Metro with a line-cutter. When you buy cooked food, you have to ring a bell to get a guy or gal to come from the back and serve you. When I tried to make eye contact with the servers instead of ringing the bell, they didn't get it. So I rang the bell, a guy came out, and some woman appears out of nowhere, honest to god bangs into me, and shouted her order of three chicken wings to the server. The guy waited on her and ignored me (the bell ringer), and that's when I kind of lost it. But this crap happens every day here. Happened in Peru, too, but the staff was much nicer in Peru and the weather was the best in the world. Oh, the weather is rough, rough, rough here. Midday temps are in the upper-90s with 90 percent humidity. Rainy season will be a relief, except when I ride the motorbike to work in the rain.
Phuong speaks very good English, but sometimes she doesn't get the words 100 percent correct. But it's OK because her "mistakes" are cute and make me smile. For example, she assures me that even if a really handsome man from "Hollygood" came on to her, she would still stand by her man, whoever the hell that is. When I tell Phuong about some pinhead who almost hit on his bike, she tells me not to worry about the "slow life" of Bien Hoa. I think she means low life, but slow life works for me as well. And Phuong's college teacher taught her to start a lot of sentences with "summarize." She'll say things like: "Summarize, I'm tired and hungry. Summarize, the baby is moving a lot today."
My son Alec will be here in 10 days and I'm super excited. Alec is quite handsome. He's no slow life. Summarize, he looks like a guy from Hollygood.
Sunday, April 10, 2016
Handsome, beautiful and unbelievable
I didn't teach for a couple of weeks as I tried to recover from my motorbike crash injuries. The recovery hasn't gone as well as I would like because the injuries were a little worse than I thought and I'm 61 years old. The body doesn't bounce back like it used to, especially when it's 95 degrees and humid every day. But I have returned to the classroom, and the classes are going very well, all things considered. My bosses wisely took me off most of the kids classes. Those classes require a little more mobility than I have at the moment. Most of my classes consist of a lot of young girls, and they've expressed their disappointment that I'm not young and handsome like their previous teachers. I tell them that they should have seen me before the accident. Wow! I was quite the hunk ... a real hunk of ... well, you get the idea. Looks and appearance are very, very, very important in this part of the world. "Handsome" and "beautiful" are the two most popular English words in Bien Hoa. I hear them more than any other words from students and strangers and teachers and staffers. The next most popular words are "really?" and "unbelievable." A distant third is "Where you from and what your name?" And in fourth, it's "What the f#@&??"
Anyway, I hear the looks thing is even worse in Thailand, but you can't tell the boys from the girls there without a program. Looks mean nothing to me -- my looks and how others look -- probably because of my age. If people treat me well and have good hearts, they're beautiful. Otherwise, they can stand between two mirrors and admire themselves all day for all I care. My wife is that rare combination of good looks and spiritual beauty. That's why I feel so lucky. I'm a different combination so you'll have to ask her how she feels.
I've taken over most of the cooking and cleaning duties as Phuong continues to battle minor stomach issues related to her pregnancy. She's into her seventh month. But I am happy to report that her stomach has improved dramatically since I took over the cooking. I've gone to a lot of fresh vegetables (that I wash thoroughly and boil before eating) and lots of canned beans and lentils. I cooked steak the other night; an ostrich last night that rocked; spaghetti with zucchini and chicken; and salmon and microwaved "baked" potatoes. Tonight it's ca ba sa, whatever the hell that is ... actually, it's some kind of fish that Phuong wanted. There's always all-natural Da Lat yogurt, all-natural cookies, and semi-natural raspberry concentrate for dessert. OK, so I'm not "handsome" or "beautiful", but I CAN cook, girls. Really! Unbelievable!
I'm getting very excited about my son Alec's visit to Bien Hoa in a couple of weeks. We've planned a trip to the beach and we're going to visit every massage parlor in Bien Hoa. Well, we do have a beach trip planned. Should be fun. He and Phuong are looking forward to meeting each other, and if my body is able we'll try to hit the tennis ball a little. No matter what we do, just seeing him will make me so happy. Can't wait.
Anyway, I hear the looks thing is even worse in Thailand, but you can't tell the boys from the girls there without a program. Looks mean nothing to me -- my looks and how others look -- probably because of my age. If people treat me well and have good hearts, they're beautiful. Otherwise, they can stand between two mirrors and admire themselves all day for all I care. My wife is that rare combination of good looks and spiritual beauty. That's why I feel so lucky. I'm a different combination so you'll have to ask her how she feels.
I've taken over most of the cooking and cleaning duties as Phuong continues to battle minor stomach issues related to her pregnancy. She's into her seventh month. But I am happy to report that her stomach has improved dramatically since I took over the cooking. I've gone to a lot of fresh vegetables (that I wash thoroughly and boil before eating) and lots of canned beans and lentils. I cooked steak the other night; an ostrich last night that rocked; spaghetti with zucchini and chicken; and salmon and microwaved "baked" potatoes. Tonight it's ca ba sa, whatever the hell that is ... actually, it's some kind of fish that Phuong wanted. There's always all-natural Da Lat yogurt, all-natural cookies, and semi-natural raspberry concentrate for dessert. OK, so I'm not "handsome" or "beautiful", but I CAN cook, girls. Really! Unbelievable!
I'm getting very excited about my son Alec's visit to Bien Hoa in a couple of weeks. We've planned a trip to the beach and we're going to visit every massage parlor in Bien Hoa. Well, we do have a beach trip planned. Should be fun. He and Phuong are looking forward to meeting each other, and if my body is able we'll try to hit the tennis ball a little. No matter what we do, just seeing him will make me so happy. Can't wait.
Monday, March 28, 2016
Three doctors, three treatments
The pain in my shoulder blade, back and chest, the result of last week's motorbike crash, has been very persistent and debilitating. I can walk now, but very, very slowly. When I need to go to the bathroom, I factor in travel time. Now, I live in fear of coughing or sneezing because of the pain these formerly routine actions cause in my chest and back. I stopped smoking cigarettes after the accident, and my lungs began to expel all the phlegm. That's great, except it hurts SO much when I try to clear the phlegm from my throat and chest. I'm often left wheezing with every breath. The old geezer is a wheezer.
To combat these issues, I visited three different doctors/facilities the past three days. I gave each a grade.
No. 1: The bone doctor. This is what Phuong called him. He works at a hospital in the morning, and at his house in the afternoon. We visited his house. There was no wait time. He checked out my x-rays, said nothing was broken, gave me a needle in my butt and sent me home. He said it would take a few days before I would feel OK. Very business-like. Grade: B- Solid painkiller injection, but needed something strong to take with me.
No. 2: Dong Nai International Hospital emergency room. The pain was a little bit overwhelming on Saturday, so we went to the ER. I got x-rayed for the third time -- I'm becoming Johnny Nucleo or Radioactive Man. I also got a sonogram, and the nurse found my gall stones again. She was real excited about the gall stones, but nothing else was amiss. I got another butt shot, which really helps with the pain, but then I got a prescription for a really weak pain-killer to treat my really strong pain. But that seems to be a Vietnamese thing. The local medical community endorses pain over pain-killers. Grade: B ... Very thorough. Nice nurses and doctors, but weak pain-killer prescription.
No. 3: The electric doctor. I don't know what else to call him. He put electrodes on my back that shot electric into my body and stimulated my back muscles into spastic movements. Actually, I had this treatment a long time ago in the USA for a leg contusion. There was also some kind of needles or wire brush that rubbed and poked my back for about 10 minutes. Both procedures were very uncomfortable, but son of a gun, my back has felt much better since. And this doctor gave me some painkiller made in the USA and some pills to try to dry up the mucus in my chest. I plan to visit this guy one more time, then visit my employer to discuss my return to teaching. Grade B+ ... A little wacky, to be sure, but electric stimulation really helped my ailing back, and the painkillers weren't bad.
I got a text from work on Sunday asking if I was returning Monday. A little too soon given my condition. And besides, the kids classes play rough. I'll return when I'm able. I hate to miss class, but I'll be back in a short time.
My wife Phuong has been heroic throughout this process. She's given me massages, rubbed weird Chinese oil on my back, found some bear bladder juice for me to drink, and picked up my share of the chores. And she's still battling stomach issues. We're both on the mend, though, and we'll get through this pesky patch.
I want to thank everyone who congratulated Phuong and I on our wedding, and I also want to thank everyone for their words of encouragement after my moto-bike accident. The White Monkey can be a cynical schmuck, but I sincerely value my family and the friendships I've made over the years. Again, thank you for your kind words and support.
To combat these issues, I visited three different doctors/facilities the past three days. I gave each a grade.
No. 1: The bone doctor. This is what Phuong called him. He works at a hospital in the morning, and at his house in the afternoon. We visited his house. There was no wait time. He checked out my x-rays, said nothing was broken, gave me a needle in my butt and sent me home. He said it would take a few days before I would feel OK. Very business-like. Grade: B- Solid painkiller injection, but needed something strong to take with me.
No. 2: Dong Nai International Hospital emergency room. The pain was a little bit overwhelming on Saturday, so we went to the ER. I got x-rayed for the third time -- I'm becoming Johnny Nucleo or Radioactive Man. I also got a sonogram, and the nurse found my gall stones again. She was real excited about the gall stones, but nothing else was amiss. I got another butt shot, which really helps with the pain, but then I got a prescription for a really weak pain-killer to treat my really strong pain. But that seems to be a Vietnamese thing. The local medical community endorses pain over pain-killers. Grade: B ... Very thorough. Nice nurses and doctors, but weak pain-killer prescription.
No. 3: The electric doctor. I don't know what else to call him. He put electrodes on my back that shot electric into my body and stimulated my back muscles into spastic movements. Actually, I had this treatment a long time ago in the USA for a leg contusion. There was also some kind of needles or wire brush that rubbed and poked my back for about 10 minutes. Both procedures were very uncomfortable, but son of a gun, my back has felt much better since. And this doctor gave me some painkiller made in the USA and some pills to try to dry up the mucus in my chest. I plan to visit this guy one more time, then visit my employer to discuss my return to teaching. Grade B+ ... A little wacky, to be sure, but electric stimulation really helped my ailing back, and the painkillers weren't bad.
I got a text from work on Sunday asking if I was returning Monday. A little too soon given my condition. And besides, the kids classes play rough. I'll return when I'm able. I hate to miss class, but I'll be back in a short time.
My wife Phuong has been heroic throughout this process. She's given me massages, rubbed weird Chinese oil on my back, found some bear bladder juice for me to drink, and picked up my share of the chores. And she's still battling stomach issues. We're both on the mend, though, and we'll get through this pesky patch.
I want to thank everyone who congratulated Phuong and I on our wedding, and I also want to thank everyone for their words of encouragement after my moto-bike accident. The White Monkey can be a cynical schmuck, but I sincerely value my family and the friendships I've made over the years. Again, thank you for your kind words and support.
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Married and medical issues
Phuong and I finally got our marriage license. The ceremony at the courthouse was as romantic as paying a traffic fine, and the woman who "officiated" over our paper signing ceremony in a 6 X 8 room with no fan or air conditioner asked how we met, if we were happy, blah, blah, blah. She was nice enough, though. After the ceremony, I went to work. We planned a family celebration the following Sunday, but Phuong got sick right before our party and we spent much of the night in a local emergency room. The next day Phuong and her mom went to Ho Chi Minh City to deal with the stomach virus and make sure the baby was OK. Monday was a 15-hour day of travel and waiting and hospitals for Phuong and her wonderful mom. Phuong is still queasy but the baby seems to be doing fine.
Not to be outdone, on Tuesday I crashed my bike returning from the supermarket and got pretty screwed up. The accident wasn't my fault, but who cares. A car went straight across my lane and cut me off, I swerved to avoid the car and then wiped out to avoid some chucklehead pushing a cart loaded with trash and stuff. The pusher was sort of hidden behind the car, and he was in the street going in the wrong direction. If I hit him, I'm sure he would have tried to fleece me for some money. I hit the ground hard. Thank god I had my helmet on because I felt the side of the helmet smack the concrete with a good deal of force. In addition to the usual road rash on my arm and knee, my back and ankle also slammed the concrete. The staff at Amy Massage (a legit massage place) was awesome. They got my bike off the road, put me in a chair, gave me a water and cleaned up my scrapes. A good Samaritan also stopped to assist. The Vietnamese are so cool sometimes, especially when you really need help.
I got X-rays of my back and ankle and took them to a local doctor. I went with Phuong and her dad, who's also very cool. Anyway, the guy took an X-ray of the wrong side of my back, so we went to another place for another set of X-rays. I was screaming like a little girl because the pain in my right shoulder blade was the worst pain I've ever experienced. And that's saying something because the White Monkey has led a life of pain. My ankle has a super tiny fracture that the doctor shrugged off, and the X-rays of my back were negative, if you can believe that. I can't, because the pain is still unbearable today. I swear I cracked a rib or two, but the doctor said no. I guess a lifetime of milkshakes has given me some strong bones. I can't really walk, though, and it's because of my back, not ankle. Time heals all wounds, I guess.
I can't teach at the moment, which is a real bummer. I was getting into a decent rhythm with most of my classes -- even the little kids. But I'm sure I'll return soon enough.
My injuries also ended my tennis, but that's fine because I wasn't fitting in.
And of course, I love Phuong with all my heart.
Not to be outdone, on Tuesday I crashed my bike returning from the supermarket and got pretty screwed up. The accident wasn't my fault, but who cares. A car went straight across my lane and cut me off, I swerved to avoid the car and then wiped out to avoid some chucklehead pushing a cart loaded with trash and stuff. The pusher was sort of hidden behind the car, and he was in the street going in the wrong direction. If I hit him, I'm sure he would have tried to fleece me for some money. I hit the ground hard. Thank god I had my helmet on because I felt the side of the helmet smack the concrete with a good deal of force. In addition to the usual road rash on my arm and knee, my back and ankle also slammed the concrete. The staff at Amy Massage (a legit massage place) was awesome. They got my bike off the road, put me in a chair, gave me a water and cleaned up my scrapes. A good Samaritan also stopped to assist. The Vietnamese are so cool sometimes, especially when you really need help.
I got X-rays of my back and ankle and took them to a local doctor. I went with Phuong and her dad, who's also very cool. Anyway, the guy took an X-ray of the wrong side of my back, so we went to another place for another set of X-rays. I was screaming like a little girl because the pain in my right shoulder blade was the worst pain I've ever experienced. And that's saying something because the White Monkey has led a life of pain. My ankle has a super tiny fracture that the doctor shrugged off, and the X-rays of my back were negative, if you can believe that. I can't, because the pain is still unbearable today. I swear I cracked a rib or two, but the doctor said no. I guess a lifetime of milkshakes has given me some strong bones. I can't really walk, though, and it's because of my back, not ankle. Time heals all wounds, I guess.
I can't teach at the moment, which is a real bummer. I was getting into a decent rhythm with most of my classes -- even the little kids. But I'm sure I'll return soon enough.
My injuries also ended my tennis, but that's fine because I wasn't fitting in.
And of course, I love Phuong with all my heart.
Thursday, March 10, 2016
No wedding, just more waiting
I've been told this happens to the Vietnamese as well as foreigners. Officials demand paperwork in triplicate, then demand a copy of the same paperwork a few weeks later. Then they want the original. There are countless "emergencies", where the officials who demanded the paperwork are not available, so a trip to the courthouse to deliver another copy of some requested document becomes a waste of time. To make a ridiculously long story short, Phuong and I were not married on Thursday, March 10, as we expected and as the court scheduled. Some "boss" had to leave town for an "emergency" so the court wouldn't give us our marriage license. We were told to try again next week. This whole process has lasted 16 months and we're still not married. I don't understand how this benefits anyone. But, of course, I don't understand. I've also been told that the Vietnamese have a saying: Waiting is happiness. I can certainly understand how that saying came about.
Phuong and I will happily wait until next week, call the courthouse first, then hopefully get the marriage license that Phuong has already seen. I don't want to make trouble. I don't want to challenge authority. I just want to marry the woman I love. Is that so wrong?
I did tell Phuong that since we're not married yet, I can go out and make whoopie for a few more days. She says my picture has been sent to all the massage parlors and "coffee shops" in Bien Hoa with orders not to do business with the White Monkey. My options are limited. I'll have to go to Ho Chi Minh City.
Oh, when we went to the courthouse to try to get married, I rode my motorbike into the parking lot after Phuong got off. I guess there's a sign in Vietnamese that says turn off your bike and walk it to a parking space. I don't read Vietnamese so I broke the rules. Some woman took offense -- I'm not sure why -- and got in Phuong's face about it. "Why did you let that foreigner ride his bike. Where are you from? Can you read?" And she was really nasty about it, as you can tell from her intelligent line of questioning. She was jabbering Vietnamese so I didn't understand what was going on. Good thing. I would have given that woman something to read between my index and ring fingers, and I would have told her -- in a language even that moron could have understood -- where she came from and where she could go. Not that any of that would have mattered. As Phuong says, People are people. And Phuong was so nice, even to that dill weed.
Some of my kids' classes can get rambunctious, and in keeping with my week, I had a few beauties. But that's just shop talk. I'm sure students take their shirts off in classes everywhere, and put their bare, dirty, smelly feet up on their desks, and kick and throw punches at teachers. But I have halted the "What the f$#@?"... even the White Monkey has his limits. Actually, my students are very cool and a couple even get my jokes. Teaching here is OK. A lot more enjoyable than trying to get married.
Phuong and I will happily wait until next week, call the courthouse first, then hopefully get the marriage license that Phuong has already seen. I don't want to make trouble. I don't want to challenge authority. I just want to marry the woman I love. Is that so wrong?
I did tell Phuong that since we're not married yet, I can go out and make whoopie for a few more days. She says my picture has been sent to all the massage parlors and "coffee shops" in Bien Hoa with orders not to do business with the White Monkey. My options are limited. I'll have to go to Ho Chi Minh City.
Oh, when we went to the courthouse to try to get married, I rode my motorbike into the parking lot after Phuong got off. I guess there's a sign in Vietnamese that says turn off your bike and walk it to a parking space. I don't read Vietnamese so I broke the rules. Some woman took offense -- I'm not sure why -- and got in Phuong's face about it. "Why did you let that foreigner ride his bike. Where are you from? Can you read?" And she was really nasty about it, as you can tell from her intelligent line of questioning. She was jabbering Vietnamese so I didn't understand what was going on. Good thing. I would have given that woman something to read between my index and ring fingers, and I would have told her -- in a language even that moron could have understood -- where she came from and where she could go. Not that any of that would have mattered. As Phuong says, People are people. And Phuong was so nice, even to that dill weed.
Some of my kids' classes can get rambunctious, and in keeping with my week, I had a few beauties. But that's just shop talk. I'm sure students take their shirts off in classes everywhere, and put their bare, dirty, smelly feet up on their desks, and kick and throw punches at teachers. But I have halted the "What the f$#@?"... even the White Monkey has his limits. Actually, my students are very cool and a couple even get my jokes. Teaching here is OK. A lot more enjoyable than trying to get married.
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