Wife aces interview; controlling COVID; termites; big boy

My wife Phuong had her interview for a U.S. immigration visa at the embassy in Ho Chi Minh City last week. She did a fantastic job, readily admitting she had been rejected four times attempting to get a visa to the U.S, and refusing to discuss her first marriage, saying how happy she is now. Her honesty and straightforward approach clearly impressed the immigration officer. He seemed baffled about my wife's previous difficulties at the embassy, including an absurd lifetime ban she received about five years ago trying to obtain a tourist visa to the U.S. to accompany me to an eye doctor's appointment. No matter. My wife will obtain the visa to the U.S. when our son Elijah, who's almost three months old, gets his passport, allowing all of us to come to the U.S. together. We're not in a huge hurry because COVID-19 is surging in the U.S. and we want to see what happens in the presidential election in November. If it takes place -- ha ha. I'll probably have to let my driver's license expire and use the eye drops that the doctors here prescribe for my glaucoma. I'm not thrilled with either prospect, but if I leave the country in November like I planned, I won't be able to get back in, or at the very least I'd have to spend 14 days in quarantine. That's a fact, and probably one of the reasons there's been so few COVID-19 cases here -- 509 as of Friday, Aug. 31.  So right now, I'd rather be here than there, if you know what I mean. And obviously, I won't live apart from Phuong, Joanna and Elijah.
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Even with the relatively small number of cases here, about 100 new cases of COVID-19 were reported this week in Da Nang, which is on the central coast. The government immediately sent out a series of emails, asking everyone to wear masks again, and evacuated 80,000 local tourists to cities throughout Vietnam. There's talk bars and cinemas will shut down, and fear that schools may close again. Joanna's school requires masks now, but not everyone complies. Anyway, the government in Vietnam clearly takes this virus very seriously, and any cluster of cases is a big deal. And that's how it should be. Looking at the U.S., that's how it shouldn't be. Here's the conundrum: In an open society like the U.S., people can express themselves freely and demand to make individual choices, like not wearing a mask or choosing to go to a bar during a pandemic. There's a price to pay for this freedom and the COVID-19 numbers in the U.S. don't lie. Vietnam, on the other hand, is a communist country and information is controlled and monitored; people aren't openly critical of the government here like in the U.S. Yet, most of the people here -- but of course not all -- appear ready to make personal sacrifices for the greater good. And the COVID-19 numbers don't lie.  I don't like the mask, but I'm wearing it. Besides, the worst thing that happens is that my glasses get steamed up.
NOTE: I had to update this blog when I learned about the uptick of cases in Da Nang on Friday.
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We've had all of the wood cabinets removed from our house. The heat and humidity make this place a hotbed for termites. The wood dust was unsettling, so my wife took action. Also, I had to get both of my computers repaired. My PC got hacked and that resulted in Facebook terminating my account for a few days for violating community standards. At first, I didn't know if I was terminated because of an accident picture I posted, or a photo of my (removed) gall stones I posted a few years back, or just my general, aging appearance. My access returned without explanation a couple of days later. I have no issues with Facebook and Social Network is a good movie in my opinion. My PC Windows were a mess after the hack and had to be reinstalled. My Mac got dropped, resulting in the finger pad becoming uncooperative. Now both laptops are back to some semblance of normal, more or less.
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Our baby Elijah is clearly going to be a big boy. He's does a lot of eating, smiling, jiggling and talking these days. Not a lot of sleeping, however. He's active and loves swinging his right arm. In fact, he delivered a nasty overhand right yesterday that knocked the glasses off my face. Joanna remains a handful for teachers and staff at her school. That's OK with me because she's a handful at home, too. Plus, she's sharp as a tack. Her English speaking and comprehension are top-notch in my opinion. But I'm her dad so of course I feel that way.

Traffic warnings; kids' stuff; visa interview

Reminders aren't necessary about how dangerous traffic is here for motorists and pedestrians. But I got a few on Monday -- whether I wanted them or not, and I didn't want them -- during and after  walking Joanna to school.  The first came when we were crossing a small street near the school. Joanna was on my shoulders as usual. I stood on a corner about to cross the street and I saw a woman on a motorbike with two kids on the back parked with her back to us on the opposite corner. By the time Joanna and I were 90 percent across that street, the woman had U-turned her bike and raced to cut in front of us, taking her bike on the curb in the process. It scared the Pho out of me.  I yelled "Why?" at her, which she most likely didn't understand. But that didn't stop her and her two kids from glaring back at me. I know how to ask 'why' in Vietnamese, but didn't think of it at the time. Not a huge deal, but I was a little surprised at her behavior since there was 4-year-old girl on my shoulders. I dropped Joanna off at school and proceeded on the sidewalk down busy Vo Thi Sau street to the Coffee House for my morning cappuccino.  As I crossed the street to the Coffee House a car was slowly coming through the intersection. The car inched through the intersection and flashed its lights, signalling me and another pedestrian to cross while warning cyclists and other cars of its approach. We crossed and then I heard that horrible sound of crunching metal and breaking glass. I instantly looked back and saw that a motorbike had plowed into the side of the car. The cyclist was bleeding from his head and was taken away. His bike was left in the street. The lady driving appeared to be fine -- the cyclist slammed into the passenger side.  No one else was in the car. I heard no sound of braking or tire screeching from the motorbike, and judging by the sound of the impact the cyclist drove full blast into the car. All the witnesses said the cyclist was speeding. It's too bad for the driver. She did everything right and  went out of her way to be nice to pedestrians and other motorists. Her reward was a huge scare, a big dent in her car and a lousy morning. Of course, I hope the cyclist is OK. Anyway, after my cappuccino, I stood outside on the sidewalk in front of the Coffee House talking to the wonderful manager about the accident when he suddenly pulled me toward him. A motorbike cut behind me on the sidewalk and missed hitting me by inches. I walked home without further incident.
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Our daughter Joanna continues to make progress in school, especially on the behavior front.  Thank you teachers and thank you wife Phuong. Joanna prefers solo work to group work, but she's not aggressive with other kids. I still contend that Vietnamese is a little bit of a stumbling block and frustrates her, but she's slowly catching on with the help of music and songs. She's very affectionate with her brother Elijah, who's quite big for 9 weeks old. He "swims" in a little pool Phuong bought and likes to be rolled on the bed. He's mellow for a baby and we consider ourselves very fortunate to have healthy children.
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Phuong has her immigrant visa interview tomorrow (Friday) in Ho Chi Minh City. It's unlikely there will be a decision right away, but since we have two wonderful children together, rejection based on relationship fraud (again) would seem unlikely. Who knows, however, given the tone set by the current leadership in the U.S. and the competency of people investigating our "case."  If approved, we would still have to get a passport for Elijah, a lengthy and somewhat complicated process. Plus, we would have to weigh the wisdom of going through airports and on airplanes to go to a country where Covid-19 cases are surging wildly. It's a lot to think about, and I don't like thinking a lot these days.

Contrast in Covid-19 clusters; rainy season and adaptation

We had a mini-cluster of coronavirus cases in Vietnam -- 14 in one day. I know that's nothing compared to the United States or Brazil or dozens of other countries, But there's been only 369 cases overall here, so 14 in one day is substantial. Those with the virus apparently caught it in other countries and were repatriated back to Vietnam.  I cringe when I see the U.S. Covid-19 numbers, and I cringe when I hear things like increased testing is the cause for the increased cases in the U.S., and the U.S. heritage and monuments are being destroyed by left-wing radicals and thugs and looters. Strange days indeed. My barber actually rushed to grab a newspaper and show me a chart of the top countries with Covid-19 cases and deaths. He pointed to the U.S., which of course is No. 1 in cases and deaths. He waited for a response. Not much I could say about it in Vietnamese. In English, I'll say it's a tragic and unnecessary situation, and that numbers don't lie. My wife has her U.S. visa interview in a couple of weeks. I wonder if Covid-19 will be mentioned at all.
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The monsoon season seems more typical this year, often bringing late afternoon rain on a daily basis. The rain usually lasts no more than an hour, but on very rare occasions it will last several hours and into the night. I used to not like rainy season so much, but I've finally realized the temperature comes down a little before, during, and after the rain. Yes, the humidity goes up, but it's humid pretty much all the time here anyway. The heat can be overbearing with the equatorial sun beating down along with humidity.  That's why I appreciate rainy season.
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 A new deodorant is on sale here -- Nivea "African" formula. It works. I'm dripping sweat everywhere but under my arms. Now, my chest stinks, not my underarms. Really, it works. However, I'm not sure what it does to your body to make you stop sweating where it's applied. I wash with Lactacyd, a gentle soap that comes in a baby formula. It helps eliminate my heat rash. I use it in tandem with HIDEM cream, which stops the itching and gets rid of the gnarly red spots.  I always wondered why my face was so itchy all the time, then deduced that my face was on the verge of heat rash; Lactacyd and HIDEM have taken care of the problem. The reason for these boring and seemingly unnecessary details is to bring home the point that we can adapt to almost any conditions. I'm not small, and I've always sweat heavily. But I'm doing what I can to make my life more comfortable in the tropics. We wake up very early when the weather is at its coolest. Sometimes we'll nap in the heat of the day, but too often life gets in the way. Bottled water is essential and I make sure my daughter Joanna and I stay hydrated. She sweats like her dad.  My wife Phuong can take of herself here since she's a local, and our son guzzles breast milk day and night. We've air-conditioned much of the house and our electric bill is impressive. But heat really affects me in a negative way, so the AC is essential. I should stop coffee if I really want to cool down, but coffee makes me feel good.  I don't smoke (more than four years without a cigarette) or drink alcohol (more than seven months), and that contributed to my sweating and feeling grimy. In a lot of ways, I'm living a local lifestyle, but I simply can't eat hot soup for breakfast and wear long pants and a jacket to block the sun.
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Our daughter Joanna is very slowly adapting to school as she approaches her fourth birthday. It appears unlikely she'll be a conformist or wallflower. Her "extracurricular activity" will be dance. She loves to dance and sing, and belts out an inspired version of "Take Me Out To The Ball Game," which she stumbled across surfing YouTube. She's meticulous about her clothing, which may explain her aversion to the school uniform. Her intellect and temper appear to be above average. That's why she's in school. And I want to praise her teachers (again). They have shown great skill and patience handling our daughter.
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Our son Elijah is two months old and loves to eat and sleep. He's only fussy when he's hungry, which can be quite often, but he's not over the top when he complains. Actually, he remains easygoing, is starting to smile a little, rolls over from belly to back and loves to look at the blue rectangles on our ceiling, just like his sister.

A foreigner's perspective of U.S. politicians; baby talk

I am fascinated by how people from other countries view the United States and what's going on there. I met a restaurant owner in Bien Hoa who is from New Zealand. A real gentleman. We got to talking U.S. politics -- oh, dear -- and he found Donald Trump to be amusing. The gentleman noted that Trump will say whatever comes to mind, and that he doesn't worry about the consequences. His view of Trump wasn't entirely unfavorable. I accepted his point and admitted that Trump shoots from the lip, but I added he also dribbles and drools all over himself, even more than my 6-week-old son Elijah. The gentleman liked Obama and admired the way he addressed the public, but said that Democrat Joe Biden, Trump's 2020 presidential opponent, talks like he's senile. I pointed out that I believe Biden had a stuttering issue as a child, which may help explain why his speaking style seems disjointed at times. But he is 77 years old. Our conversation ended on that note because our hamburgers were ready. I enjoyed talking with the gentleman and hope we can chat again.
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Our son Elijah rolled over from his stomach to his back by himself. I don't know if it counts as an official rollover since I placed him on his stomach. He did this when he was five weeks old. I helped him once and then he did it by himself a few minutes later. I put him on his stomach for short periods a few times every day to help strengthen his neck. He seems to be doing fine and since there are no well visits for babies here that I know of, I check the internet and make sure his development is on schedule. Unlike his sister, he'll go in the crib and sleep without a fuss. Joanna wailed whenever she got near the crib and would hold on to my shirt or whatever with the iron fist grip, perhaps indicating a hint of separation anxiety. If that's the case, it might explain some of her acting out and behavior at school. But, she's only 3 years old (she'll be 4 soon) for goodness sakes, and school is from 7 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. I'm suffering from some separation anxiety because I miss Joanna. She's been doing much better lately and I'm very proud of her regardless. There's an English class at the school, but all other lessons are in Vietnamese, and that may add to Joanna's stress. She understands a little but doesn't speak any significant amounts of Vietnamese.
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Carrying Joanna to school at 6:45 a.m. and back (4:30 p.m.) on my shoulders has clearly been beneficial for my sciatica. I can walk in the mornings now, which is a must since I take Joanna to school and pick her up. Many sidewalks here are in disrepair or filled with trash or parked cars or people sitting on plastic chairs drinking coffee. But we take our time and are very careful when we walk, especially when we have to walk in the streets. Some cars and bikes don't seem overly concerned about pedestrians, even 3-year-old girls, but I knew this going in and try to teach Joanna to be careful.
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The coronavirus is rarely mentioned in Bien Hoa these days; I really haven't heard it mentioned in casual conversation.  It's on TV news, of course. I still see a handful of cases in Vietnam listed on worldometers.info -- the site shows about four or five new cases a week. The total here is 349 with no deaths. Our daughter has her temperature taken every day just before she enters school, and she must wash her hands with hand sanitizer. Again, so far so good. My recent illness went away with the help of hot tea and honey and some herbal Chinese medicine my wife's mother buys somewhere near Bien Hoa market. It's effective for colds and such. Pretty sure it wouldn't help with coronavirus.
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I'm teaching English to two private students. Both are extremely bright and making steady progress. One of the students is a retired teacher; the other is a doctor. I only work six hours a week -- two 90-minute classes a week for each student. Since I'm "retired," I'm not interested in working a lot of hours. I always considered work one of the necessary evils of life. And it's a four-letter word.

Race is a touchy subject, and I've made my mistakes

I don't like to admit it, but I know I've said things and engaged in conduct that I now consider racist. The killing of George Floyd has brought the world's attention to the issues and problems that people of color must face. These are problems I've never had to deal with. I don't consider myself racist. Nobody does. But when I reflect on what I've said, especially my ill-advised and lame attempts at "racial" humor, and how I view the world through white lenses, it's clear to me I've made mistakes and that I have a problem. I need to consider the impact of my words and actions on those around me, white and non-white. Here's an easy contrast: Comedian Dave Chappelle has the genius to deliver a serious message within edgy racial humor. I just have a big white mouth. I grew up in a family that considered black people almost alien beings. They didn't use the N-word, but they had a whole slew of other derogatory terms beyond "colored" or "black."  Sure, I would chastise my parents for this. But looking back, my confrontations were due in part to the contentious relationship I had with my parents on every issue. I will give my dad some credit; at age 94 he became an ardent supporter of Barrack Obama. The fact my dad was a hard-core Democrat contributed to his late awakening, but I detected a sincere admiration of Obama. I shared that admiration of Obama and still admire him. Actually, I really miss his leadership, especially with the leadership we have today. Race is a difficult and touchy subject to discuss. But the only way to deal with difficult and touchy issues is to get them out in the open, discuss them, and ultimately take positive action. What action? Hopefully, that will come out of the discussions among people of all races.
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There are a couple of personal streaks that I'll note: I've read 185 straight days and I haven't had a drink of alcohol for more than six months.  I used to drink beer or whatever every night before bed and other times of day. That's been replaced with reading. I've read more than 25 books by Jack Vance, mostly science fiction and a few mysteries. His sci-fi books are, well, out of this world.
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Joanna is enrolled in pre-school and, quite honestly, it's been rough going. She doesn't like wearing a uniform or taking instruction of any kind. Thankfully, the administration, teachers and teachers' aides have shown amazing patience with Joanna. She comes by her difficulties in school quite honestly. I was a lousy student, a discipline issue and a knucklehead in general in school.  She can do the work and she has the intellect, but she gets bored really fast and goes way off-task. I remember those days. I can't thank the school enough for their work and patience with Joanna. I want to address these issues now rather than when she's 7 or 8 years old ... or older.
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I'm fighting some kind of illness -- no fever or dry cough, but my sinuses are a mess. It's an annual event for me, the ex-smoker, but with coronavirus in the air, I'm a bit cautious and mildly concerned. We take our temperatures all the time and I inhale vitamin C.  I walk Joanna to school every morning and afternoon and pick her up as well. Schools are breeding grounds for viruses and facilitate their spread, which, of course, is why they've been closed so long and so often during the coronavirus pandemic. Since my energy level isn't any lower than usual, I'll keep my fingers crossed and my mask on.

Same normal here; child care; remembering mom

The new normal in Vietnam is starting to feel a lot like the old normal. Motorbike traffic is reckless and ruthless again. Big cars are racing up and down small streets. At the popular coffee shops you see lots of mask-less young people not overly concerned about social distancing. The coronavirus never really got a foothold here, so maybe locals aren't quite as concerned as the rest of the world. The government closed the borders as soon as news broke about the virus in Wuhan, China. Then Vietnam focused on contact tracing to control the spread. A few towns in northern Vietnam near the border with China were quarantined shortly after the virus began to spread. There have been no reported deaths here and the overall number of cases is 334 as of May 25. We are not completely opened up here with some limits on restaurants, and a few more people wear masks in supermarkets, but it's not a dramatic change by any means.
The first thing I do in the morning is check virus numbers for the United States. My wife does the same. We're horrified, of course, since the U.S. is at 100,000 deaths under the leadership of President Donald Trump. Brazil, under the leadership of President Jair Bolsonaro, sometimes called the Trump of the Tropics, has been climbing rapidly and now is No. 2 in cases with 394,507, including 24,593 deaths.

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My wife Phuong is steadily and slowly recovering from her c-section and the birth of Elijah. My back and knee won't heal, but I'll never have to go through nine months of a difficult pregnancy followed by hours of intense labor, a c-section and lots of bleeding. Luckily, Phuong can handle all things Elijah while I take care of all things Joanna. I do what I've always done with Joanna: read, go to coffee shops, draw a little on the white board, go shopping, and write letters of the alphabet. We have picnic lunches together, which means I have to sit on our very hard floor. Joanna loves shopping and finally she's responding to my request not to take off running and disappear in a big supermarket or store.  But she insists I carry her on my shoulders when we walk to the market or coffee shop. Oddly, this weighted walk has helped my back somewhat. It makes no difference on the knee, which has developed a mind of its own, buckling when I least expect it and staying stable when I expect a collapse. Joanna also loves videos, and has figured out to start a computer, track down YouTube videos and stay entertained for hours. She enjoys phonics videos now (Peppa Pig is yesterday's news) and understands the concept of sounding out letters and words. That should be a handy skill when she starts pre-school / kindergarten next week. Joanna is sweet to her brother, but I sense she's ready to branch out.

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My mom died 14 years ago on May 25; she was generous, hardworking and remarkably under-appreciated. She cared more for others than herself, and I think this ultimately led to her demise.
Gertrude Millman was a fighter with a heart of gold. And as my mom would say: That's no BS. I wish I had paid more attention to the example she set with her work ethic and self-sacrifice. I found out after she died following a too long struggle with Alzheimer's that her given name was Joanna, but somehow that got changed to Gertrude on her birth certificate. Her Ukrainian parents didn't protest and Gertrude it was. My 3-year-old daughter Joanna is named for my mom. Joanna sometimes has a fierce temper, but overall she's sweet and caring. I know my mom would have adored her as well as Joanna's 3-week-old brother Elijah, named after my great-grandfather on my dad's side of the family. I don't know much about him other than the fact he was a farmer, had 11 kids, supposedly could open a clam with his bare hands and spelled his name with one 'l' -- Milman. Elijah Milman makes for a good story and wonderful name to give to my child.

Baby boy brings us joy; taxis reject me so I take long walk

My wife Phuong endured a short but painful labor that ended in a c-section and the birth of a healthy boy -- Elijah Pham Millman -- on May 6 at 3:45 a.m. Mom and baby are doing great now. There was some concern about blood loss by Phuong, but all turned out well. We're both happy beyond belief. I wasn't at the hospital -- Phuong's mom went with her. I stayed at home with Joanna, cooking, cleaning and trying to handle a little girl whose become quite a handful, especially with mom having a difficult pregnancy and then disappearing one night. We explained the situation to Joanna, and I think she got most of it. Anyway, only one person was allowed to accompany the moms-to-be in the hospital due to coronavirus fears. Phuong went to the hospital late on Tuesday night, gave birth Wednesday, and returned home Saturday afternoon. Not bad for a woman who had a c-section. She's tough.

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I fell down our stairs carrying laundry and bent my left knee well beyond its normal limits. The good news is that knee pain took my mind off my sciatica.  I had to man-up the next day when I took Joanna shopping at Vincom. After buying clothes and groceries for the family, I stood outside the mall and tried to hail a taxi. Three taxi drivers about 20 feet away laughed at me and Joanna, and refused to give us a ride. I'm not sure why. Maybe we weren't going far enough. (Joanna used up my cell phone's battery watching videos in the mall, so we were sort of stuck.) One of the drivers walked up to me basically to start a confrontation, I guess, laughing and waving his hand at me. This is the third time I've been refused a ride by taxis outside Vincom. Here's where I manned up. I ignored the driver, of course, then covered Joanna's head with a t-shirt I had just bought, put her on my shoulders, and walked 1.6 miles home in 99-degree heat along a dirty, dusty and dangerous road (Vo Thi Sau) that was having construction work done on the gutters and shoulders. I didn't even think about my knee during the walk. I was worried about the drivers and if the heat would bother Joanna, but we stopped for water and I dumped cold water over her head twice. She had fun, pointing out the "diggers and excavators" along the way. I don't care when taxi drivers act like this to me, but I was flabbergasted they would do this to a 3-year-old girl. As long as the knee holds up, I'll walk.

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I've enrolled Joanna in a pre-school here since Phuong's U.S. visa interview has been indefinitely postponed due to coronavirus. School is from 7 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. with a break roughly from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. for lunch and nap. We'll see how it goes. Lockdown ended here late April and early May, but Joanna has been bored. The heat doesn't help -- it was 93 at 8 a.m. this week. Classes are taught in Vietnamese with an hour or so of English every day. Joanna only speaks English but can understand a little Vietnamese when pushed. Being bilingual can only help her.

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We've had 318 total cases of coronavirus in Vietnam. The U.S. currently has more than 90,000 deaths from the virus, so I'm going to say we're fortunate to be where we are. That's one of the reasons we enrolled Joanna in school. Along with everyone else, we have no idea what the future holds.