Did you see that?

I'm still not used to being stared at everywhere I go. I don't mean simply an extended casual glance. I'm talking fixated starting, with nary a blink. Kids, adults, the elderly, plants and animals. I'm being watched. People watch me eat to see if I can handle chopsticks. They watch me drink coffee. They try to peek in my grocery bags to see what kind of food I'm buying at the Coop Mart. I remember the first time I saw Dave Chappelle in Yellow Springs. OK, I stared a little. But Chappelle is an honest-to-god celebrity who has tremendous talent. All I have is white skin and a 6-foot frame. I'm told by the few locals I know that people in Bien Hoa don't see many folk that look like me. They should count their blessings.
Most of the reaction I get from the onlookers is positive. There will be a smile or nod. A couple of times, however, the interaction has been uncomfortable. A guy came and sat next to me while I was having dinner and demanded I buy him a beer because "You're a rich American. You pay. You got money." I ignored him and he yelled, "Look at me. Look at me." I gave him a cigarette and he finally went away. Nothing good would come from a confrontation, although it was getting close to that point.  Another time, two creepy guys sat  on either side of me telling me how much they really liked me. "But we don't know each other," I said. Unfortunately, these encounters happened at what has become my former favorite restaurant. I found another place to eat, but even there four guys insisted I chug beers with them. Bottoms up. Man, I just wanted dinner. I didn't feel like performing, so I got my check and left. Overall, the people are wonderful here, but sometimes a little attention can go a very long way. Guess I've got to adjust somehow.
Classes are going well. I'm teaching kids and teenagers, and they're fun. They're rambunctious, but  when they start to bug me, I just remember what a chucklehead I was at their age. I teach at a factory sort-of place, Taekwon, and the class is awesome.So are the classes with the vocational teachers. Good people. When I have challenging classes, I just try to come up with better material for them. It keeps me on task. I don't hit a home run every time, but I have more time to lesson plan now because I'm limiting my public appearances.
I saw a couple of rough motorbike accidents last week. In one, a little girl was bounced off the bike and ended up sitting in the street. She got up and walked to the sidewalk, where she stood kind of shellshocked. The two drivers regrouped and picked up the broken parts of their bikes. No one spoke and traffic swerved around them. In the other accident, a motorbike hit a bicyclist. No one spoke and traffic swerved around them.
I've seen about six accidents since I've been here, and I'm surprised I haven't seen more -- people text-message while riding their bikes in absolutely crazy rush-hour traffic. Gutsy stuff. My plans to get a motorbike are still on hold, and will probably stay that way as long as I'm here.

Rain and roommates

The rainy season has started here, and I, for one, like it. The rain means it cools off for about an hour or two a day. Even better, there's a cool breeze right before the storm hits. The locals feel the breeze, then scurry to cover everything up and weigh all their stuff down. It gets windy, and there's lots of thunder and lightning. Good stuff. The storms often come mid-afternoon, but they can hit any time, really. Oddly, I haven't been caught in the rain yet. Since I just wrote that, I'm really going to get soaked next time out. After the rain, it can be either nasty hot and humid, or quite nice. Thumbs-up to the rainy season.
I think I'm actually adapting to the heat a little. My shirts are only three-quarters soaked with sweat rather than completely drenched when I teach. I've got my persistent heat rash under control with copious amounts of Lamisil. I'm sure I'll suffer in the cold when I return to the U.S.
Everyone still says hi to me on the streets, and children come up and look at me like I've got three eyes on my second head. But once they get used to my odd appearance, they're friendly and engaging. It's all quite enjoyable. And so are the classes and students. I might even have a favorite class (ha ha). They're UNBELIEVABLE, as one of the students says. Actually, all the classes are excellent ... none better than the other.
I've discovered another universal truth in addition to the petulance of big box electronic store employees: unacceptable movie theater behavior. I went to see Star Trek 2 last night (it's in English with Vietnamese subtitles) and you're assigned a seat. Mine was J7. Behind me was a family of 5 who were discussing who knows what, maybe their summer holiday plans, as the movie got under way. In front of me was a couple; the girl was looking at photos on her smart-ass phone. Five young girls came in about 10 minutes into the movie and marched up and down the aisles and went in and out of the theater throughout the film. Their assigned seats were next to me. All other seats in the theater were empty, so I did what any sane human being would have done and moved. Then the usher came in and gestured that I had to return to my assigned seat. I used sign language to plead my case, gesturing that there was chaos all around me in an otherwise empty theater. He got it and I enjoyed the movie, which was very good by the way.
Every few days I sweep up the dead roaches from my apartment floors. And they're not even paying rent. Ah, life in the tropics.

No mo' hotel

I will miss the Khanh Dang Hotel, where I lived for a couple of months. The receptionists were nice, they did my laundry (for a fee), cleaned my room most days, and the room air conditioner felt like it was nuclear powered. But I decided to move and to have more room, a kitchen and stuff like that. The new apartment is a little further from work, but not enough to matter. I sweat as soon as I step outside anyway. Only one room has AC in the apartment, but the fans actually do an OK (not great, but OK) job of keeping the place slightly cooler than a steam room. I live right on the railroad tracks, but the passing trains don't bother me. I've always liked the sound of trains.
School is good and the bosses are fine. Classes have been real good lately. Students like fun and games, and Taylor Swift. Grammar, not so much. But they get it, and I'm impressed with what they absorb, even when they don't seem to pay attention. Bright folk.
I'm blocked from Facebook at my new place for whatever reason.
My boss and another teacher took me to a local park, Buu Long/Dragonland. Other than being an extra hot day, it was real nice. The pictures are on facebook (back when I could access facebook). Blogspot is balky when it comes to posting pictures and it took forever to figure out how to make them a little bigger. Sometimes they shrink when I add other pictures. Not exactly user friendly, but functional. It won't let me rearrange pictures now, so apartment pictures are out of order. Sorry.
I've had a number of people mention how "fat" I am. They say that's why I sweat so much. The people here are quite direct. They all think I'm much younger than I am, which is nice, but when I tell them I'm 58, they now think I'm "old" and "fat".
Not much progress on the language. I just get laughter when I try to speak Vietnamese.
The food rocks. Had some really good pho (a soup pronounced fa, but I'm sure I'm wrong again) and great shrimp. So it's not my fault. All the good food is making me "fat".
Forgot to mention that most of the beer is served warm, and you get a big block of ice in your glass. When the ice melts, the "workers" replace your ice with a new block. However, the old ice goes back in the new ice bucket, meaning you're probably sucking down some other guy's spit. That might explain the lung ailment I had last week. Lots of people hack -- and smoke -- here. Motorbike air, cigarettes and shared ice.

Food for thought

The food here is a real highlight. A U.S. quarter will get you four good-sized chicken wings -- it could be dinner. Shrimp and fish are absurdly cheap. You get a whole fish, noddles, cucumber, pineapple, iceberg and leaf lettuce, rice paper, and other stuff I can't identify for $4.50. For $3.50, there's an all-you-can eat breakfast buffet across the street at  a nice hotel. Most of it is pretty healthy as well. The white noodles go really well with just about everything. I'm better with chopsticks, but the other night one of my chopsticks flew out of my hand and almost lanced some guy sitting near me. He didn't smile.
It's also nice you're not super-sized with sodas ... they're 10 oz., not 12 or 20. I drink the coffee here only as a treat since I brought a one-cup plastic filter holder from the U.S. (along with three pounds of Dunkin Donuts coffee) so I can have some drip coffee.
Still no luck with the language. Usually, when I try to say a word, the locals either laugh at me very loudly or chastise me with "No, no no." I'm on the verge of giving up. However, in one of my classes while teaching vocabulary, I said the Vietnamese word for keys and the students applauded. That's the kind of reinforcement I'll need to continue learning Vietnamese.
The classes are going well and the students, for the most part, are pretty engaged. Just like in Peru, certain sounds like "th" and "sh" are challenging for them, but they catch on pretty quick -- quicker than I'm catching on to Vietnamese.  I was teaching adjectives Friday night and asked the class to describe me. First word they said was "fat." The second might have been "old" but I had moved on to adverbs at that point. And I swear that's true. In the same class, I asked a girl if I could help her with a word she didn't understand in the reading, and she responded, "Whatever," and refused my help. "Young" people. Go figure.
Some behavior is universal, in my view. The big electronic stores here have the same vibe as the ones in Peru and the U.S. There's three or four employees standing around using their smartphones or "whatever," or they're talking, and you stand there like a moron waiting for service. They look at you, then go back to their phones or their critically important conversations. I'll bet it's the same in Botswana. So, I ended up at a smaller retailer here and got good service and the product I needed, even with the language barrier. Lesson learned.
Some random observations: Folk here seem more fascinated with Europe, especially the UK, than the USA. Given the events of history, that's quite understandable. Lots of Manchester United hoodies and shirts here. Yes, people wear hoodies in this ungodly heat, especially girls on motorbikes. Energy drinks like Red Bull are very popular. Some of the corporate classes I have always bring a couple of Red Bulls and a couple of waters for me. Haven't found a pharmacy yet near me, but it's very high on my list of things to do.

Adjusting, learning, and a little whining

The positives far outweigh the negatives here, but I wouldn't be a thorough blogger if I didn't report some of the ... well ... challenges.
First, the weather. I know weather whining is trite, but imagine the hottest, most humid July afternoon in Ohio or Delaware. Now ratchet that up a notch and you're almost in Bien Hoa. When I got back from the U.S., my internal clock was upside down and the heat was extra brutal, even for Vietnam. I was a mess and my bosses were asking what was wrong with me. Standing there on two hours sleep, pouring sweat (I'm the only person who sweats in this country), I said, "Nothing." It took me a couple of weeks to adjust time-wise, and I'm still a little off. Old age, I guess.
The people are very nice, but their willingness to help can be startling, for lack of a better word.. If you're doing something like putting on a motorbike helmet, and you miss the snap once, they're right there trying to snap it for you. Don't open doors for the ladies here .... they insist (INSIST) on opening them for me. When you're paying for something, and you take a moment to count through the piles of bills you have due to the currency, folks gets itchy and reach into your wallet to grab the correct bills. I realize I'm the guest here and have many cultural lessons to learn, but I put my foot down on this one: Don't grab my wallet. I intentionally leave off the please so they know I'm serious. Of course that leads to many apologies and I feel bad. But, you know, reaching into a stranger's (or even a friend's) wallet ....
In Peru, everyone was in a huge hurry, cutting in line and stuff, and then they were always late. In Vietnam, people are late, then they're in a hurry and they expect the same from you even though you were the one waiting. It's kind of cute.
All whining aside, the people in Vietnam are wonderful, the kindest and most helpful I've encountered in my limited travels.  And they're positive even though it's hot and crowded, two conditions that make Americans irritable at best. The food is great and inexpensive. The beer is mediocre and inexpensive. Taxis are air-conditioned and inexpensive. Like I said, the positives far outweigh the challenges.
I'm used to the traffic and have learned to cross the street fairly safely, although I was hit once in a parking lot and once on the road. On the road, the guy who clipped me went down in heap, but bounced up and thanked me for helping him. The lady who hit me in the parking lot didn't do any damage, and she was as shocked as I was. No harm, no foul.
Teaching is going fine. Students are students no matter where. Some days they're enthusiastic, other days they're sluggish, probably because they're tired from working so much. I like them all and we're getting along quite well. I hope my sweating doesn't creep them out.

Mourning, then returning

My dad died March 22. I rushed back from Vietnam but didn't quite make it in time. I arrived about 10 hours after he passed. Even though I knew I had missed him, I was driving on adrenalin and got from Dulles to Wilmington, Del., in about 1 hour, 50 minutes. My brother told my dad I was on my way, but I think my dad had already decided it was time to move on. Ninety-eight is a long life. The viewing, mass, funeral, all went well .... as well as those kinds of things go. Saw all my kids and a lot of family, and that was good.
Moving on ....
I guess Vietnam is just about halfway around the world, because I've flown there twice and have gone two routes -- across the Pacific, and across the Atlantic. Either way, it's 23 hours or so in the air. Taking the east to west route I stopped in Doha, Qatar, and enjoyed the airport for a seven-hour layover. No alcohol, but there is a smoking room. The smoking room was like the bar scene in Star Wars -- I sat between an Italian and a really tall, blonde Russian girl. There were Filippinos, Vietnamese, Brits, Germans and everyone in-between. Ah, smoking ... the universal language. The smoking room was extra unhealthy because there were no fans or vents operating, and it was so smoke-filled you literally had trouble seeing across the 12-foot room. If that room doesn't turn you off to smoking, nothing will. I've only had one cigarette since I've been in there. I'm still trying to decompress.
It's great to be back in Vietnam, even if it was close to 100 and unbearably humid on Sunday. (It was cold and it snowed when I was back in Delaware.) But in Bien Hoa, the hotel ladies gave me a warm welcome, the smoothie youngsters were clearly happy to see me, and my boss gave me my schedule. Back to work tomorrow, which is a good thing. Teaching these students, just like the students in Peru, isn't like work at all. This is fun, so I'll enjoy it while I can.

Xin chao ... uh ... hello

I'm slowly getting settled in here. Bien Hoa is clearly off the beaten track. It's an industrial city about 20 miles from Ho Chi Ming City, but it certainly doesn't feel like HCMC. There are really no tourist attractions here. In fact, I'm probably the biggest (in every sense of the word) tourist attraction for the locals. They all stare at me when I walk the streets or eat out, but unlike other places I've been, I usually get a big smile and HELL-O. Kids follow me along the street like I'm the Pied Piper. The people are a big plus here. They're very welcoming. Everyone wants me to sit down, even if I've been sitting all day. Service is excellent, whether it's the restaurants, or coffee shops (of which there are millions), or department stores. The only time I've encountered attitude is when people are on their scooters. There are billions of scooters -- everyone has one, including teens. I thought about getting a scooter, but that would be like going on suicide watch. Crossing the street on foot is plenty dangerous because there is always heavy duty traffic. And no one slows down when they're on their scooter.
Communication is a struggle. No one speaks English here. They know numbers so you can pay them when you buy stuff, but otherwise it's charades.  American charades must be different as well, because I've had a heck of a time getting my points across. Vietnamese is a tough language. They use our letters, but don't pronounce them the same, so the written word isn't a whole lot of help. Pitch is crucial to the language, and I've never been able to pitch. I'm trying to learn, but failing so far.
The food is awesome, and very cheap. A long loaf of French bread that costs $2.25 in the U.S., goes for 6,700 dong here or about 33 cents. Packaged dinners/lunches at the super market are 18,000 dong, or about $1.50, and they include pork, noodles, and some vegetables. Good stuff. The tastes are surprising as well .... a vegetable soup has a sweet aftertaste, or there's a spicy finish to chicken, which is dirt cheap here. I've just begun to scratch the surface when it comes to the food.
Teaching is fine. The students are great. Very friendly and hard-working. I only have one day off a week, which is sort of OK, because other days I may only teach a class or two. The bosses are great, and they're determined to make sure I have a good experience here. Cheers to that.
Speaking of cheers, the Vietnamese like to go bottoms-up when drinking, which basically means you're chugging beer. Don't like that custom. Local beer is watery lagers, and there's Heineken. Bottoms up!
Coffee is a bit of a problem for me. Haven't found drip coffee yet. It's expresso with sweetened condensed milk. Cheap, to be sure, but it ain't Dunkin Donuts or Dinos. Cigarettes are super cheap as well -- about 95 cents a pack. Picked the wrong country to quit smoking, but I'll keep it on my to-do list.
 Miss family and friends in the U.S., and I miss my favorite students and other fine folk in Peru.