Cool

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

Head-on collision

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

Embarrassing day

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

Coke for a wedding gift?

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

Police and a bed

The intersections here are a bit of a free-for-all. And the way the traffic is structured, there may be as many as six or eight different lights at an intersection. The locals, of course, understand the system and road structure even though they sometimes ignore both. The White Monkey, however, can get a little confused. I was surrounded by bikes the other night, and one of the lights where I was waiting turned green. All the traffic moves and I follow, like a good monkey. But the bikes all turn right and I'm going straight. So ... I go straight, and apparently run through one of the five or six red lights I ignored. Of course, there are two cops waiting for me as I run through the red. As soon as I pull over, one of the cops shines his flashlight on me and starts yelling. My Vietnamese is only a little better than it was 16 months ago, but I did understand him when he screamed red. He was the "bad cop". I ignored him and turned my attention to the "good cop". I explained in crystal clear English that I saw one of the lights turn green and got confused. He stared at me for a few seconds, then waved me on with a disgusted look on his face. Now that's a good cop.  Once again, following the crowd gets me in trouble. I know people complain about cops, but these guys did OK by me.
 One aspect of life here has changed for the better -- I bought a real bed. Spending money is a joyous occasion. I love it, and I love my new bed. I do my work on the bed, sometimes I sleep there, and best of all, I don't have to climb to my feet from a mattress on the floor to get something in my room. I can just stand up. White monkeys do that from time to time.
Yesterday, I was in my living room counting money in my wallet because I needed to buy some printer ink. I look up and see my neighbor -- in his living room across the street -- watching me count money. He gives me a thumbs-up and a whoops loud enough for me to hear through two sets of closed glass doors. Amazing.
Speaking of printer ink (always a hot topic at the coffee shops), I had to go to five stores yesterday before I found my brand -- the very obscure brand name of Canon. The store where I got the printer doesn't carry the ink anymore. Ugh!
My coffee shop is still rockin' and classes are very good. I'm off today, so I'm just going to lie (I don't think it's lay) on my bed and stare at the mirror on the ceiling. I don't have a mirror on my ceiling.

Politics and keeping it cool

Our province, Dong Nai, made international news last week because of the protests over China's oil drilling near the disputed Paracel Islands. Vietnam and China both claim the islands, and therein lies the dispute. Nationalist fervor is running quite high in Vietnam. I'm not a political person, although I do think Obama is a great president. The Vietnamese clamped down on the protests because of violence and vandalism. All is calm now. I was given a couple of Vietnamese flags to display, but since I want to stay out of the public eye, I hung them in my room, not out of my window. Of course, I support Vietnam. I live here and they pay me, and lately, folks have been rather nice to me. The White Monkey is on their side. Vietnam may take China to international court over the disputed islands.
There's a rat that freely roams our neighborhood day and night. It's a big rascal, so I consider it a community pet rather than a scary nuisance. It ran under my legs as I was sitting on the front steps of my house. And I mean under my legs. It wasn't scared, either. It got into my kitchen once when I left the back door open. I petted it a little and sent it on its way. Good rat. 
The heat has been, well, hot lately. Right now it's 97 degrees fahrenheit and "feels like" 109. Humidity is 47 percent, and usually runs a bit higher. I sweat constantly, but since I've been drinking lots of cokes and stuff, my weight is increasing. I'm bloated like a hippo, but it's so dang hot, I don't care. The heat has mildly affected the students, who seem a little sluggish even though the Vietnamese are clearly better adapted to these conditions than the White Monkey. Understandable that they're uncomfortable, but classes are going well. Kids classes are awesome.
I went to see the 3-D movie Godzilla with my F3A3 class at the local cinema -- or as I call it,  the internet/chat room at CinePlex. The F3A3 kids got tickets as a prize for their outstanding efforts in the Go Green competition. I had to pay for my ticket. Before the movie, I got the kids some drinks: they had Red Bull, Sting, soda and coffee. They're 10, 11, and 12 years old. We had a blast! We walked to the cinema, and hung out, and did the usual kids' stuff before and after the movie. I felt young again -- not a day over 58. That was the first 3-D I've ever seen, and it was very cool. The subtitles hung in mid-air. Wow!
Riding the bike is no longer an adventure. It's a pain in the ass, just like driving a car in the U.S. I even answered my cell phone while riding the other day. What a jerk I am! I can smoke and ride, also. Aren't you going to congratulate me?
I need to buy some furniture because sleeping and lesson planning on a foam mattress on the floor isn't working. I "talked" to a local shop owner, and I agreed to buy a desk, but the chair didn't work out. Maybe next time.
I love my coffee shop -- with servers Nguyen and Nguyen -- because they know what I want and the customers leave me alone, which is the big plus. I don't want to teach English after I finish teaching English. I do hear lots of sad stories from the young girls here, who all love me. But even if the stories aren't true, it's sad the girls would make something like that up. The decisions these girls make to earn money can be distressing, to say the very least.
But my focus is teaching and the students, and that's what keeps me smiling. No sob story here. At least not today.

Sleep forever

I was reviewing a little vocabulary the other day with a mid-level class and I asked them: "What is death?" It was in one of our stories, so don't think I'm morbid or weird. I'm both, but you don't have to think it. I was wondering how I would answer when one of the students blurted out: "It's when you sleep forever." That's one of the reasons why I love teaching. What a great answer. Now, our class joke is: "I'm going home and going to sleep .... forever."
My Bien Hoa neighbors are almost too nice, if that's possible. I said almost because I always accept what they offer, from bananas and local exotic fruits,  to wedding anniversary soup and French bread and iced coffee. Delivery is free. I've never had neighbors this nice anywhere in the world. The traffic comes by and the riders still stare and say silly "Hello's" and "How are you's?" to me, and now the neighbors smile, as if they understand the perils of being a white monkey. The massage girl loves the white monkey moniker because of my body hair, but I don't like when she tries to pluck my body hair out. It's not nice to tease the white monkey. The Vietnamese are just about hairless, and a good wind could blow the whiskers off the guys' faces.
We had our Go Green competition at our school, with the finals at the VMG Cambridge ceremony. Honestly, I'm glad it's over. It became something of an obsession, with winning being very, very, very, very important. Understand ? (hieu?). My F3A2 class -- kids from 10 -12 years old -- came in second. I think we were the youngest group. I really don't care how we finished because these students understand Ladies First and Clean Up Your Mess. We had pizza to celebrate the fact they learned the important lessons. Great kids, one and all. And they get it.
After more than a year here, I've learned the flow and some important lessons. I'm too big to park my motorbike where everyone else does, because I can never get it out without knocking over other bikes. Kind of like Pee Wee Herman in that one funny movie he made. Don't carry much money. People love to look in your wallet, so I fill my wallet with rubber bands. Don't stare back at the gawkers. It only encourages a longer stare. The head-down nod seems to work best.  Don't tip like you are in the USA. People, especially the young girls, will think you have money, and they'll bother you and ask for your phone number.  They don't actually like the white monkey, but they love the white money. Of course, this is not everyone. But it exists and it's reality. The white monkey doesn't lie, or tip like he used to. The kids here can fix anything. When something breaks in class, I ask the students to deal with it because I'll just screw it up. Don't drink the tap water. Best of all, the folks here don't hold a grudge -- at least 99 percent don't. You can have "a moment" with someone in a store or at work, and the next time you see them it's like it never happened. I love that.