Too much help when Joanna goes ballistic; White Monkey gets cranky from the heat and sweating

I carried Joanna to the park on Monday this week, and for whatever reason, she was not a happy child. She refused to walk when we got to the park. That's our agreement (and dad's rule). I'll carry her on my shoulders everywhere except in the park. She gets it. But this time,when I put her down, she went ballistic. I tried distraction tactics such as pointing out birds, bugs, fish (across the street), but she was set. She's the only person I know who's more stubborn than her mother or father. Then she decided she wanted to go home to "mommy, mommy, mommy, 'yaa'." I'm not sure what the "yaa'' means, but Joanna always makes it the last word when she's upset.  So I picked her up, and she continued crying as we walked home. Some Vietnamese women who were watching us -- everybody spies on everybody here -- decided they would "help."  They came up to us speaking Vietnamese. Then they tried to console Joanna. That went over like a fart in church. Joanna was having none of it and continued screaming. Then a couple of other women started tagging along and offering "advice" in Vietnamese. I felt a little like the Pied Piper, or St. Patrick. Either way, I didn't want the company while I was dealing with a screaming toddler.
Maybe I'll call it "too much of a good thing" or "trying too hard."  The  Vietnamese folk in my neighborhood, for the most part, are extremely nice. There are a few creeps who will stare and glare at me, but most will stare and smile, or bow their head. But the Vietnamese love to help, to chip in, and then they always seem to know what's best for you and everyone else. Really, it's all good, except when you're taking care of a screaming child. I just wanted to get Joanna home and I didn't appreciate the advice in a foreign language. I know these folks were trying to "help," but this wasn't the time or place. Besides,  I see lots of parents hitting their kids here, so I'm not so sure I'm interested in local parental counseling. I know nothing about the women who tried to help me. They seemed nice, but since I don't speak the language very well, their efforts were misguided.
I'm pretty sure Joanna was having some teething issues. She's been getting some molars lately and has been particularly cranky and irritable. She wasn't herself for a week or so and  I was a little concerned, but for the past couple of days she's come back to her cheerful, chatty and stubborn self.

* * *

The White Monkey has been particularly cranky and irritable as well lately, and I know why -- the heat and humidity are unbearable here. I take a minimum of three showers daily --- morning, midday, night. I also shower after I walk with Joanna. I sweat when I do tai chi standing or sitting. I'm drenched when I do the tai chi solo exercise and sword form -- and must shower. I'm beyond soaked when I play tennis and have to wring out my shirts before putting them in a plastic bag -- and then I shower.  Phuong doesn't mind the heat as much as I do, so we eat dinner in our cool, 87-degree (F) kitchen -- then, I need a shower. Lovely. I'm sure the heat contributes a little to my sourness and cynicism, but I don't need much help with those traits. I sweat when my shower is over. I sweat when I use the bathroom -- for a number of reasons. Sweating has become a lifestyle for me. So has showering. I'm ready to leave this place, but we have a process to go through before that can even be possible. This makes me sweat as well. I see another shower coming.

* * *

Reading has become a serious hobby for me of late. I read at a local coffee shop daily after I finish teaching my private students. I'll have a cappuccino and book. Wish cigarettes weren't so nasty and harmful, or I'd have one of those with my book and cappuccino. I've ordered a  bunch of Jack Vance books that I'll pick up in the U.S. when I visit to have eye care and see my lawyer.

* * *

Good beer is getting harder to buy in Bien Hoa. If we're very lucky, Mega Market will carry Affligem Dubbel once in a blue moon (ha ha);. Vinmart stopped selling Leffe Brune and Blonde, and La Trappe Quadrupel and Tripel are gone. You can get all the Budweiser and Tiger you want. I'm starting to sweat. You can buy Chimay, but the prices are over the top. Time to get more books.

No. 1 health issue cured by chance; one hell of a book

Life's tragedy is that we get old too soon and wise too late.
-- Ben Franklin

Ben really is my hero. Anyway, I wish everyone who reads this blog a long, healthy and happy life. Long may be the least important, unless you're healthy and happy.
Well, I'm 63 years old and I'm still not very wise. And 63 is an age when things start breaking down. A year and a half ago, I had my gall bladder removed and I had a few undesirable side effects. I've also had four serious motorbike accidents, three that banged up my kidneys pretty good. Without being too graphic, I can say that going No. 1 became something of an issue after the accidents and surgery, unless I drank excessive amounts of beer. That treatment has its merits, but I just didn't think drinking excessive amounts of  beer was the optimal solution (no pun intended) to my problem. People suggested cranberry juice or pomegranate juice, but neither worked. I was pissed (pun intended). But I had an incredibly fortuitous meeting with a Chinese lady at the Chinese grocery store she owned in San Luis Obispo last July while I was taking care of my dying brother. I was buying a cool robe at her store (the robe was made in Vietnam, by the way) when we struck up a conversation. Somehow, and honest to God I don't remember how, my health problem was discussed. The woman said her mother could help me -- her mom, who was sitting in the store, was a Chinese herbalist and immediately diagnosed my problem as a kidney issue. She told me to do the following: Fry organic black beans in a pan until they begin popping (like popcorn). No oil, no nothing. Just the beans. Then soak the beans in organic vinegar for five days -- they can go in the fridge for the final two days. Then, eat 3 to 5 beans daily. She suggested I eat them indefinitely, meaning forever. I followed her instructions to a T, and sure enough,  no more issues with No. 1 whatsoever. Hell, I don't even get up in the middle of the night to pee anymore. And no, I don't wet the bed. There's only one Asian market in San Luis Obispo, so if you have health issues, it's worth a visit. I'm not sure they want visitors like this, but the whole family -- lady, husband, mom and dad -- were kind and friendly. I can't thank them enough.

* * *

Joanna and I were walking to the park last week when a Vietnamese lady made a remark that really bothered me. Joanna was on my shoulders -- she's gotten lazy in her old age -- and we walked past a woman who was with her husband and two kids. I smiled and bowed my head; she just stared back expressionless. When we got past her, the woman said in Vietnamese to her two children, "American, American."  (After five-plus years, I understand a little Vietnamese.) Joanna looks American, but she's half Vietnamese. Besides, what's the point? No kidding, Einstein, I'm not Vietnamese. So I stopped, turned, and said: "Look, Joanna, Viet, Viet." The woman acted offended, like I really care.

* * *

It rains daily at about 4 p.m. The rain is preceded and followed by stifling heat. We're still squeezing in two or three tennis matches a week. We're so evenly matched that the No. 1 ranking in the household is back up for grabs. The walk with Joanna is great fun, and because of it, we're thinking of putting Joanna in a "school" for half a day a few times a week. She saw some kids at a school/daycare/playgroup, and she really wanted to join in and play with the toys and such. Phuong will go to the international school this week to discuss price and schedule. A lot of people in town know Joanna now because of the daily walk. American, American

* * *

My private student Sam is a pesky Scrabble player. She gives me all I can handle when we play, and the only reason I  beat her this week is because I was able to play a 10-point Z.

* * *

I finished the book about the Vietnam War by Colonel William C. Haponski: One Hell of a Ride Inside an Armored Calvary Task Force in Vietnam. Powerful, emotional, and honest. I highly recommend this book because it's so honest. An excellent read.

Close to our house, two high school students reportedly killed when car plows into motorbikes on Vo Thi Sau

Two high school girls were reportedly killed on Vo Thi Sau street this past Sunday when a car crossed the center line and plowed into oncoming motorbike traffic. The location of the accident is very close to our house -- three or four  blocks -- and it was on a stretch of Vo Thi Sau that we travel nearly every day -- sometimes in a taxi and sometimes on a motorbike. We rode past the aftermath of the accident in a taxi on our way to tennis. The car knocked one motorbike and its driver shockingly high in the air, and another victim was dragged under the car. I saw a video of the accident online, and it's disturbing and upsetting. When I see stuff like this, I realize how easily it could have been Phuong, Joanna and me on the bike that was smashed into or run over. Joanna hasn't gotten to ride on the motorbike very much since I was broadsided a month or so ago. No information is being released publicly about the victims or driver of the car from Sunday's accident. Gossip and rumors are rampant. Alcohol has been mentioned as a factor; so has a flat tire. I'm not a cop or detective, but from watching the video, it doesn't appear the car was slowing down at all before impact. But that's just my perspective from watching the video. My heart goes out to the families of all of the victims. Many people here are unfazed by events like this. People still ride up and down our street at stupid speeds; you're still guaranteed to get cut off by the bike behind you when you both make a turn; and sure as hell you run the risk of getting hit by people running red lights. I use the word "reportedly" in the headline and first paragraph because, like I said, no information is being released. From seeing the video, it's difficult to imagine the two girls could have survived the impact, but I don't know anything for sure, other than the fact that drivers here -- of motorbikes, cars, busses and trucks -- are ridiculously foolish, reckless and dangerous.

* * *

Our application for an interview to get an I-130 spousal visa to the U.S. was submitted by our lawyer in Cleveland. I think it can take a year to get an appointment. Despite our impeccable character, we know we won't get the visa after this interview. But we hope to find out why my wife Phuong has the lifetime ban on coming to the United States.

* * *

No red-hot Joanna news. She's speaking more and more (English) and loves the walk with her mom and/or dad. When people approach her and make her uncomfortable, Joanna will immediately wave her hand and say "bye-bye"  in a high-pitched tone. You gotta love that.
Walking and tennis are being cut short by monsoon season, so I'm buried in a book about the Vietnam war called One Hell of a Ride Inside an Armored Calvary Task Force in Vietnam. I've had the book for quite a while, but I'm finally getting around to reading it. It's written by Colonel (Ret) William C. Haponski, who spent quite a bit of time in the Bien Hoa area during the war. It's the real deal, and the detail is rich. It's a good book that keeps me company when I go the coffee shop after I finish teaching my private students. It's part of my morning ritual.

* * *

We didn't have water in our house -- the third time in two weeks -- three nights ago after we had  a heavy monsoon rain. Water, water everywhere, but ... I'm waiting for the return of the skin rash. Our fitness continues to improve from carrying the heavy buckets of water upstairs. We're vanguards of the future. And the water carrying has helped my tennis. I've reclaimed the No. 1 ranking in our house after three successive victories.

No water again; walking with Joanna; women rule

Our house was without water again last week. The system was shut off for three days as workers installed PVC water pipes, replacing the iron pipes that may have predated Ho Chi Minh’s founding of the Indochinese Communist Party (ICP). There was a hose connected to the main water line in the street that we could access for water. We filled big buckets with water and carried them around our house (again) to bathe, do dishes, and flush toilets. Our fitness levels have clearly improved since we started carrying the buckets to the second floor bathrooms. Our hygiene levels ... not so much. I got yet another skin rash from the lack of hot water and showering with cold water from buckets. The cold water from the street line was refreshing, but warm water is obviously needed with all the sweating and grit in the air from the motorbikes and trash burning. The monsoon season seems to have started, but it hasn't done much to alleviate the heat. It's in the mid to upper 90s every day, with humidity around 80 percent. Rough stuff. The rain arrives about 3 p.m. and lasts until 4 p.m., increasing the humidity.
The electricity went off again for about an hour this week at about 8 p.m. I don't see well in the best of conditions, so when the house went pitch dark, I walked into a coffee table and banged up my shin and right hand. Blind, clumsy White Monkey.

* * *

 We've actually made a few friends in Bien Hoa in the past few weeks. We play a couple of guys in doubles at the county courts -- I can't beat Phuong there, so I've decided to join her. The two guys are quite friendly and they play at about the same level as we do. Our neighbor Minh wants me to cut the ribbon at her coffee shop when it opens on May 24. I think she's joking, but I'm not 100 percent sure. I've been nice to my sour neighbor's two teen kids -- a girl and boy -- and the neighbor has responded with smiles. I give the kids cookies that the coffee shop gives me. I'm a regular at the coffee shop with Joanna, so the staff showers us with little gifts.

* * * 

I take daily walks in the early morning or late afternoon with Joanna. She doesn't always like to walk, so I'll carry her on my shoulders. This seems to slow down the motorbikes a little when we cross the street. They'll speed up when I'm walking alone. Anyway, Joanna and I walk to the park, and then we visit a wall mural of Mickey Mouse and other cartoon characters. Then we'll visit a house that has about 15 rabbits in the yard. From there, we make our way to The Coffee House, where I buy Joanna a passion fruit pudding and I get a cappuccino. Then it's on to a nearby restaurant to see some live fish, followed by a return to the park, where Joanna doesn't have to be carried. Sometimes, she'll walk home from the park. Other times, she's on my shoulders. The whole trip takes about 50 minutes and it's not a bad workout for the White Monkey. I come back covered in sweat and Joanna doesn't fight her afternoon nap so much. Win win. Joanna doesn’t care for the attention she receives on the walk. She especially dislikes it when people try to hold her or pinch her cheeks. I don’t like it when people do this to me, either. Or pat my belly. On the other hand, Joanna get extremely excited when her cousins come to visit. For 22 months old, she’s pretty self-assured. She knows who and what she likes – money talks and you know what walks.

* * *

Females are pretty much dominating my life now, which isn’t such a bad thing. Phuong is the captain of our ship and Joanna is second in command. Me? I’m one of the expendable extras who’s assigned to swab the deck. It’s all good. One of my private students, “Sam”, finished the book we’ve been using, so we celebrated with milk tea, a cappuccino, and some pastries. She’s the boss of our class. The White Monkey knows his place.

No water for a while; seeds in bananas; 'leave fan'

We didn't have water for 36 hours at our house this past week. Even though the time without water was relatively short, it was a big hassle. This wasn't a scheduled shutoff. It was completely unexpected, making it a bigger hassle because we have a 21-month-old girl who has just started potty training. And it's 98 degrees fahrenheit here every day.
The city hired high-quality contractors who were working on the drainage system on our street and they somehow cut the water line to our house. While they were repairing the severed pipe, dirt, rocks and probably litter got into our water line. This prevented water from getting into the house. Our water tank on the roof went empty very quickly and we weren't getting water from the street. So we went dry.
Phuong carried buckets of water from her parents' house to our house while I entertained Joanna. I got the better of that deal. We always have a big container of filtered water in our kitchen (remember, not many people drink tap water), and we used it for coffee and dishes. We washed and bathed out of buckets and used buckets of water to "flush" the toilet. The showers were kind of fun and fairly effective, especially with Phuong's help. Well, that's what Joanna intimated.
When city workers finally showed up, they removed the sidewalk (again!) and cleaned out the line. But they said they could not replenish our empty tank because there wasn't enough water pressure to send the water to the tank on our roof. Their solution was that we buy a "special" machine (probably a water pump) to send the water to the tank. Thanks, guys. But for whatever reason, the water just came back on about five hours after the debris was cleaned from the line. Good work, guys.
Here's a brilliant revelation I had after all of this: Life without clean, running water is incredibly difficult and dangerous. People in Flint, Mich., and Puerto Rico have had to endure this. People deal with this all over the world. I'm a big fan of boiling water, even (or especially) from our tap here. It's interesting how things we take for granted, like water and electric, become super enormous deals when they're taken away from us.

* * *

I've never had bananas with seeds before until I moved here. I bit into a banana and a little black seed about the size of a BB nearly shattered my bridge work. The seeds are quite hard and can number from one to five. The bananas with seeds are shorter and more stout than the bananas in the U.S. and they have a mushier texture. Not all of these bananas have seeds, but many do. People have told me to eat more bananas to combat dizziness from my head injury incurred more than four years ago. My dizziness remains sporadic but I've steadily gained weight from all the bananas I'm eating. Hence, the White Monkey.

* * * 

I know all kids repeat, but my daughter Joanna takes it to another level. She loves to turn off the fan and run away while Phuong and I have dinner in the kitchen. Phuong lets Joanna get away with just about anything that isn't dangerous to her, but I try to set a few limits, especially when it's 98 degrees every day. So I said to her: "Leave the fan alone, leave the fan alone, Joanna!" She ignored me, of course, and ran away after shutting off the fan. But a week later at the tennis court where we play on Sunday nights Phuong turned on the fans in the change-over area, and Joanna immediately barked: "Leave fan!" Also, she loves spotting the tiniest of details in books that aren't related to the story. She'll see a fish in a little picture on the wall in the house of the Three Little Pigs, for example, and shout "Fish! Fish!"  Typical kid behavior, I know, but joyous nonetheless.

Sadly, many of the small kids in the neighborhood will have nothing to do with Joanna and a couple are over the top rude. Life lessons, I guess. And Joanna is quite sweet, but many of the kids could care less about that. The parents care even less than the kids. The parents are taking selfies while their kids try to bully Joanna. More life lessons.

* * *

I won't say much about my tennis with Phuong other than to report that I've lost good leads in our last three matches, so I've fired my coach and replaced my advisors. Of course, I don't have a "coach" or "advisors", but if I did, I'd fire them. Worst thing I ever did was help Phuong improve her serve.

No power, no cold water, no visa (yet), no adult guidance

We've lost power on our street twice in the past two weeks. The power outages lasted about 90 minutes each time and both occurred on Saturday night at about 7:30 p.m. That means no lights and no air conditioning. Since the weather has been typically nasty lately -- 98 in the day with 80 percent humidity -- the outages are no fun for me. I suffer in heat and can't wait to move somewhere cooler, if I don't die from heat stroke and skin rashes first. The neighbors seem to enjoy the power outages, however,  running out into the street and talking excitedly. A big neighborhood cheer goes up when the power returns.  Cheap thrills.
We've lost cool water in our house for the past two days. Our hot water -- we have a solar panel of some sort -- is really, really, hot, and working almost too well. It's not a huge issue because not many people drink the tap water in Bien Hoa. You just have to be careful in the shower or your skin will get burned. Really, it's that hot.
I dealt with pretty much the same issues in Peru except there was no hot water. Cold water was plentiful so showers provided a different challenge.  In Yellow Springs, Ohio, my house has flooding, drainage and plumbing issues, but my wonderful property manager (Teresa D.) is helping me deal with them. Bless you T.D.
My house in Yellow Springs is important because I plan to eventually move there with my wife Phuong and our baby Joanna. But that's contingent upon Phuong getting a waiver to enter the U.S. We sent documents to our lawyer and are still waiting for a response regarding an application for an I-130 visa interview at the surly U.S. Embassy in Ho Chi Minh City. If all this falls apart, I'll lose lots of money but no sleep over this "pathetic" process. But I'm not sure why a country would NOT allow a tax-paying, reasonably loyal citizen to bring his foreign national wife into his native country with her American husband and American child. Phuong is a certified nurse, accountant and IT in Vietnam. She's a dedicated mom. Worthless skills in the U.S., right? Sounds to me like some petty U.S. bureaucrats are on a power trip. I won't lose sleep because our daughter is doing quite well here. I'd rather my American daughter grew up in the U.S. with her American dad and Vietnamese mom, but U.S. bureaucrats seem to want otherwise.

* * *

Now neighborhood kids and teens on our street insist on shouting "FU@K" at me when I walk to a local coffee shop while carrying or holding hands with my 21-month-old daughter Joanna. I guess they're showing off, or something intelligent like that. I ignored it twice, but since Joanna is with me,  I confronted them the third time it happened, but they courageously ran into their house. An older woman was with the boys, so I said the same to her in Vietnamese to demonstrate what the kids were shouting at me. But she refused to look at me the entire time and obviously took no action against the kids. Folks, all I want to do is walk to a coffee shop with Joanna to give her some exercise and get a cappuccino for me. Who benefits from stupid, ignorant behavior like this? It's about the sixth time I've had this happen to me in Vietnam, and the most disappointing aspect is that parents and other adults who are present pretend they don't hear it or act like they're looking the other way. I don't blame the ignorant kids. I blame the ignorant parents and ignorant adults who let it happen. What a bunch of ignominious ignoramuses.

* * *

Phuong and I tied 6-6 in tennis on Thursday, and she beat me 3-6 on Friday. Her style is difficult for me -- she's a counter-puncher who hits a slower ball. This forces the White Monkey to try to generate pace on his shots, but I generate unforced errors instead. Phuong can also hit very well-placed returns that I have to chase down. This wears me out, even though my fitness is exemplary. Ha ha. But I'm not one to make excuses. Ha ha.

Poorly installed air conditioner nearly falls from on high

The bedroom air conditioner in our house almost fell to the floor last week. The unit was poorly mounted above a picture window -- the installers used anchors and screws that weren't big enough and strong enough to support the air conditioner.. It didn't actually fall, but literally hung by threads of the screws. Our 21-month-old daughter Joanna sometimes plays under that air conditioner and looks out the picture window, and the outcome could have been tragic if circumstances were slightly different. Thank God they weren't. The air conditioner, which we purchased at Nguyen Kim in Bien Hoa, works quite well. The installation by store employees didn't work so well, and that's not acceptable. There are no reasons and no excuses for substandard work like this, especially in a house with a baby. I've had issues with substandard work in the United States, Peru, and even Poland. But these issues involved internet, computers and other stuff that wasn't life-threatening. Because of sloppy work, a falling air conditioner could have killed a small child.

* * *

Joanna was quite sick this past week with some sort of stomach virus. She didn't have any energy and was rather cranky. She didn't eat and had diarrhea. We took her to the clinic because we don't have a baby doctor -- I guess that's how it works here -- and the doctor there said a lot of kids in town had the same problem. After three days of medicine, she's back to normal. A little leaner and meaner, but back to normal. I downloaded The Very Hungry Caterpillar video for her when she was sick, and now she's obsessed with it. She'll make a slurping/eating noise to signify that she wants to see the video. She's been walking around the house making slurping/eating noises for a week. Funny kid. I teach six mornings a week, but on Sunday, or when the private students don't show up, Joanna and I walk to a little coffee house nearby. The heat wears her down, which is a good thing because she'll take a nap and go to bed at night instead of playing under falling air conditioners.

* * *

I have nice private students, but my favorite student "Sam" (her nickname) is making remarkable progress. She reads slowly and clearly, expresses herself very well,  and has improved her pronunciation dramatically. And Sam approves of my use of American phonics rather than using the  so-called international phonetic system. American phonics uses the 26 letters of the alphabet, sometimes with symbols above the letters, to create phonemes that represent sound to teach pronunciation, while international phonics uses many symbols that are not among the 26 letters of the alphabet to represent sound (for example: ɖ ŋ æ ʌ) ... There's nothing wrong with the international system, and perhaps it's more precise than American phonics. But to me, the international system is like teaching and learning another alphabet (credit to Chris Larsen for that reasoning). I prefer keeping things simple for my students, and maybe I'm Mr. Lazy (Sam's nickname for me). But I can teach my EFL/ESL students to pronounce any words in the English language, even  choir and squirrels. I guarantee I can improve the speaking and pronunciation of my students because of American phonics. Really, speaking well is what it's all about.

* * * 

We're shipping lots of documents to our lawyer in Cleveland. We're applying for an interview to get a spousal visa for Phuong.We know we won't get the visa, but we're hoping to find why, in God's name, Phuong has a lifetime ban from entering the U.S.

* * *

I blew a 3-1 lead and lost 3-6 to Phuong in tennis on Tuesday.