OK, I lost my temper

I lost my cool the other day. For the most part, I've accepted the cultural differences here that I don't care for, such as people cutting in line, or ignoring driving lanes and traffic lights, or telling me how fat and old I am. Some (not all) folk are extremely blunt. But I've been extremely Gandhi-like. Until Wednesday morning. Phuong and I were playing tennis when the next group showed up for doubles. They were 20 minutes early, so they sat courtside, and one guy was talking so loud while we were finishing a set that he was a distraction, to say the least. We finished the set anyway and were volleying, but the guy kept flapping his jaw the entire time. His partners talked, but weren't nearly as loud or obnoxious. I looked over a couple of times, but the big-mouth didn't give a crap. So I took action and slammed a tennis ball at him, and it hit the fence next to his head so hard that he flinched. He responded by asking: "What wrong you? What wrong you?" I gave him the icy Vietnamese stare and said in my wretched Vietnamese: "Toi khong tot." I think that means I'm no good, but my Vietnamese is wretched. His friends kind of smirked, so I think they enjoyed my hot-tempered reaction. The big-mouth toned it down because I got his attention. I hate to be an a--hole, but sometimes there's no other option.
Phuong and I have an odd neighbor (and who doesn't?). This guy was singing karaoke into his gigantic sound system at 10:44 p.m. so loud that our walls were shaking.We could barely hear each other talk. You could hear this num-nuts all over the neighborhood. But nobody complained. That's not done here, I'm told, because people don't want trouble. Screw that. For me, this was too much, so we knocked on his door (actually, Phuong had to walk into the house because he and his wife couldn't hear the knocking). We asked politely if he could turn off his music and singing, and he did. Problem solved.
I guess I'm just too big for this country. Our bathroom mirror is so short it reflects my chest and stomach. I have to squat down to see my face in the mirror. Our sink is tiny, and Phuong was upset when I was tossing dishes around due to lack of space.
Food is great here because Phuong is a great cook -- we have octopus, beef, shrimp, awesome chicken, clams, duck, kim chi and everything else. That's why I'm so fat, or so I'm told.
Phuong has applied for a travel visa and we hope to visit the USA in June. We're keeping our fingers crossed.
Classes and students are wonderful. I returned to Long long long long Thanh on Wednesday after some time away, and it was cool to see the kids again. One class was shocked at my massive frame. Good times.
Oh, one funny thing. I saw a woman cut in line to get communion from the priest at last Sunday's mass. Had to laugh at that, although no one really smiles during church services here.

Aging in Vietnam

Birthdays, like death, are inevitable. I had one Friday. Normally, I don't like my birthday, but now that I can share it with my beloved Phuong, getting older isn't so terrible. I don't know about death yet, but I'll find out eventually. Like I tell my students, "We're all going to die. Everyone in this room will die." The students always laugh when I say this, for some reason, so it's all OK.
I returned to the USA for a few weeks and had a fine time, but the chilly weather was a little rough for me. I've been in the heat of Vietnam so long that my body is starting to change a little. Actually, I came back to Vietnam Dec. 10 and found the warmth quite enjoyable. December is a good month weather-wise here. People still cut in line and ride their bikes like knuckleheads, but I'm no longer shocked by any of this. I still say "please" and "thank you," by the way.
I saw my children and they're all doing great. Jessica let me stay at her house in Delaware, Ohio, and it's a neat place. She's doing well. So is Caroline, who has a new job and looks fantastic. Jack is busy as hell at law school and with his accounting business. Alec is wonderful, enjoying life as he always does.  Friends Ron, John, Tommy and Andy were quite gracious and hospitable. My brother Tom put me up for about a week and beat my old ass in tennis twice. I blame my glasses and poor vision, so once I get contact lenses, I'll destroy him on the courts. My ex-wife Lynda cooked a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner which I enjoyed with the kids.
I didn't like driving a car in the U.S. because of traffic, the little car I had (my fault for making a poor choice), and my vision. I went to the eye doctor and she wants to do a little work on my eyes next year. Can't wait. Otherwise, no issues. My house looks good, Yellow Springs was chill as usual, and Glen Helen was awesome as usual.
The highlight of my trip was coming back to Phuong in Vietnam. She was waiting for me at Tan Son Nhat airport in Ho Chi Minh City. We hugged and kissed in the car -- like teenagers -- the entire ride back to Bien Hoa.
I start work on Monday, and I really look forward to seeing the students again. I missed teaching, but enjoyed the time off. Needed a break. Now I'll take by jet-lagged butt to bed. It takes a week or so to adjust to the change of time and whatnot. But I'm back home with Phuong and teaching again, so life is good. Too bad we're all going to die.

Fix-it for cheap

Three times in the past month I've been wowed by the work of Vietnamese fix-it folk. I rolled over on my glasses and snapped a tiny wire that held my left lense in place. My eyes are about as good as my Vietnamese, so I had to do something. I have spare glasses, but the prescriptions are weak, and that's a guaranteed disaster on the motorbike here. But my fiance Phuong took the glasses and lense to a shop she knows and the guy was able to replace the tiny wire and secure the lense in less than an hour at a cost of 10,000 dong, which is about 50 cents U.S. Amazing. The soles were coming off my beloved sneakers that my daughter Jessica picked out for me in the U.S. (The heat is rough on shoes here.) I was ready to toss them, but fiance Phuong came to the rescue again. She knows a shoe repairman in the Bien Hoa Market area and he replaced both soles ... for about $2 U.S., or 40,000 dong. As some of my Vietnamese students like to say: "Unbelievable!" Finally, my room air conditioner wasn't giving me the big chill I wanted, but guess what? Phuong knew a cleaning service that came out to my house and spent more than a hour washing and scrubbing and adjusting the air conditioner. Now my room is an icebox and I love it. Oh, and it cost 60,000 dong or so -- $3. In my opinion, there's no such thing as too cool. All the repairmen did good work, and they were prompt and friendly. And of course, Phuong is perhaps the most wonderful human being on planet Earth. But I notice that almost everyone here likes to tinker. My students break toys I bring to class, and then they fool around with them for a short while and fix them. They're patient and clever, two attributes I'm sadly lacking as I muddle through life.
I'm in a good food rhythm here now that I've overcome food poisoning at an outdoor restaurant. And it only took me five days to get better. The chicken here is awesome, the pork is fantastic, and the clams and oyster are excellent and reasonably priced. Phuong is a great cook, so I'm blessed again. The beef here is pretty mediocre, but I'll eat it once in a while because I like meat.
There is a down side to having a beautiful and talented and wonderful fiance. A lot of Vietnamese men come on very strong to Phuong. They're a-holes of course and Phuong is very cool about it. She basically tells the guys that she's married and that they can go home to their wives, mom, or grandma. Or all three. Of course the chuckleheads do this crap in front of me, but they speak Vietnamese with smirky smiles on their smirky faces. I guess I deserve it for having such a beautiful fiance, but I don't like it. Phuong tells me to chill out, so I go to my bedroom and turn the air-conditioner down real low.
Phuong and I were playing tennis today, and the doubles teams that took the court in front of us included two guys who smoked cigarettes while they played. I should have taken a picture, but I was too busy smoking a cigarette after I thoroughly thrashed Phuong in tennis. Actually, we just volleyed and it was great fun, except for the incredible heat. I drank four bottles of tea and lemonade afterwards.
Classes are going well, even though they're quite plentiful at the moment. But I'm gearing up for my trip to the U.S. next week, so all is well. I'm very sad Phuong isn't coming with me this time, but that will make returning to Vietnam wonderful. I'll miss her so much.

A sick man, indeed

I insisted Phuong join me for dinner at a local dive where I know a couple of people. The place is a little sketchy and the food is so-so at best, but the owner and her daughter are friends of mine. So we went there last Wednesday night. The place is a sometimes hooker hangout, and the male patrons are chuckleheads to say the least. Phuong was wisely reluctant, but I sort of insisted ... so we went. The song You're in the Army Now was looping on the sound system there so we heard it about 15 to 20 times during our dinner of beef, french fries and something Phuong called kettle fish. The good news: The hooker count was low and the chuckleheads didn't hassle us. The bad news: We both got incredible cases of food poisoning. My case was a little more incredible. I'm still quite ill and it's Sunday. Phuong got better quickly. Part of the issue for me is that I'm working so much -- 30 hours of classroom time with some travel on a motorbike and in a car thrown in for good measure. Also, I've got some new children's classes and it's taking time to get them used to my way of teaching. We're slowly starting to mesh but it's been a rocky ride. Ah, that's just shop talk anyway. Who cares?
Phuong is catholic, and I want to support her the way she supports me, so I've been going to mass on Sundays. Bien Hoa has quite a few catholics because the government sent them all here after the U.S. left Vietnam in the early 1970s. At least that's what I've been told. Anyway, mass in Vietnam reminds me of mass in the U.S. about 55 years ago. No one smiles or talks in church. No one. You can't cross your legs. You kneel a lot. The service in very long -- about 70 or 75 minutes. There is a lot of singing, and the words are on TV monitors throughout the church. People still cut you off on their motorbikes when they literally race for a parking space before mass, then they solemnly march into the church. And they cut you off again when they race like heaven out of the parking lot. I mentioned the grim mood of the service to some people and they looked at me like I was out of my sacrilegious mind. "Of course no one smiles," one woman said to me. "It's a church service. We go to worship." OK. I was a catholic school castoff twice in my youth, but I'm doing my best to hang in there with mass. I truly love Phuong.
I'm getting excited about returning to the U.S. in a couple of weeks or so. Can't wait to see my children, and friends, and my house in Yellow Springs. I'm incredibly disappointed Phuong can't join me on this trip, but we'll get to the U.S. together one day. Hopefully sooner rather than later.
I'll finish with some shocking news: It's still hot as hell here, but my godawful skin rash has finally cleared up.  I'll have to bring back another souvenir when I return to the U.S.

Take a bath or go outside

We've been having incredibly hard rainfalls daily. On Thursday, I was taking a walk and it was pouring. The Vietnamese looked at me like I was walking on water, not in water. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Rain really rattles folk here. When the locals standing in their doorways saw me walking in the rain, they urged me to get inside. Almost pleaded with me. Those who could speak English said I'll get sick. I've had this argument before, but in my view illness comes from viruses and bacteria and stuff like that, not from rain. I guess you could be more vulnerable to sickness if you're wet and cold, but cold isn't a problem for me here. It is for some of my students. One girl, about 20, asked me to turn off the air conditioner in my classroom because she was cold. I saw that she had a jacket and wasn't wearing it, so I told her to put it on and be strong. She put it on and shivered the final 8 minutes of class. Maybe she got caught in the rain earlier that day. I have no clue. The other 14 students were quite content in the air-conditioned classroom, so I went with the odds. And teaching in a hot room is no fun at all.
My fiance Phuong was in a motorbike accident a week or so ago. Scared me to death. She got a nasty gash on her ankle, which swelled up to softball size, and her little toe looked like a sausage. She wouldn't get stitches, so she'll have a big scar. Otherwise, she is fine. Accidents are quite routine since people routinely ignore traffic laws. Knuckleheads run through red lights and ride on the sidewalks all the time. It's like Death Race 2000.
I'm still battling heat rash. I've been losing this battle for about six months. I'm sure the rash will come to the U.S. with me in November.  Phuong says the rash is the Vietnamese souvenir I can bring back to the states. I told Phuong that I'll show the rash to my family at Thanksgiving dinner, but she wasn't too keen on the idea.
Working quite a bit lately -- had 15 classes with a couple of new children's classes one week. One of the kids' classes was difficult until my boss came in and really helped me out. I owe her.
Can't wait to visit family and friends in November, but I'll really, really, really miss Phuong. Hell, I miss her when I go to work, so 20 days in the U.S. will seem like forever. We try not to dwell on that topic.
I didn't care much for Vietnamese food until I tasted Phuong's cooking. And her mom is even better. They make octopus, snails, oysters, all kinds of stuff that's outstanding. I still bring ABC Bakery items to the neighbors but they don't have to cook for me anymore. I take ABC pastries and pizzas to the staff at my coffee shop -- most of whom are university students -- and they're so appreciative.  Man, I like that. Giving is so much better than receiving no matter what anybody says.
One more time I want to thank teacher Joy for all her help. She's bailed me out countless times with advice or a spare worksheet. Joy rocks.

The luckiest man alive

I guess the big news, for me anyway, is that I'm engaged to be married. The divorce engagement comes later. Just kidding, Phuong. My neighbor Phuong and I became friends first. We talked and laughed about a big banana I put on her plate (trying to be nice), and we shared whatever we had with each other. I never thought I would marry again after divorcing 15 or so years ago. But I never thought I would meet someone like Phuong -- caring, smart, funny patient, and willing to compromise. And she's beautiful as well. I won't lie: I'm lucky and I know it and I will do my very best to make this wonderful woman happy.
Peru had the world's most aggressive mosquitoes. They were small, fast and nasty. In Vietnam, the ants are the nemesis. I put food on my kitchen table, walked to the living room to turn on the TV, and came back to the kitchen to find my sandwich covered with ants. They're not bad with mustard. Actually, they're everywhere -- in my bed, on my arms, in my underpants.
The gay community here is pretty much underground. No one talks about gays, other than an occasional tasteless joke. Even those are rare. But a few men have made their intentions all too clear to me. I don't care about the political views, religious views or sexual preferences of others until they try to force them on me. A few men here were quite aggressive with me, hassling me in a sauna room and at a restaurant. But I've had nothing but trouble at the outdoor restaurants here anyway. One guy followed me on his motorbike and almost caused a crash with me. I was pissed, and I considered clocking him, but then reconsidered because I don't want any police involvement. It's unfortunate when folks use aggressive tactics to satisfy whatever it is they're trying to satisfy. It's happened to me in the USA  and Peru as well. Don't like it.
Three foreign teachers have left my company, so I'm working a lot. No problem, although the young kids' classes are tiring. It's all good ... VMG treats me well. Any foreign teachers interested in applying should contact VMG in Bien Hoa ... quickly.

Buy local

I've been a good guest here for the most part in terms of purchases. I buy local unless I'm desperate or I want food that isn't hot soup, or doesn't have rice, noodles or fish oil. But some stuff doesn't last. I've gone through four sets of headphones and I've had to buy the same computer cable four times. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe the wires melt. I have no idea, but headphones and cables lose connection after about a month. I bought a squirt gun and toy organ from a street vendor and realized later that both products were made in, gasp!, China. I'm not political or very bright for that matter, but even I realize you don't buy from the neighbors to the north. The squirt gun and organ are still working, but I'll destroy them soon. If I don't destroy them, the kids who come to my house will.
Three sisters -- ages 8, 9 and 11 -- come to my house quite often. Two of them have terrible coughs. I give them fruit and orange juice every time they come, but the coughs persist. Their father, who's under 30 years old, comes to get them at night sometimes. He stands or squats outside my house, always shirtless, and screams for them while he plays with his cell phone. He doesn't look at or acknowledge me. Well, actually, he gives me a Clint Eastwood-like glare once in a while, but I get that all the time from just about all the men here. Sometimes the girls ignore him and just stay at my place until I boot them. It's all a little weird to me, but maybe I don't understand the culture. I've been told that many times. The sisters have two brothers, about 3 and 4, and they try to come into my house. They fall into the "too young" category.  I'll give them a little candy and try to send them home, but they stand outside my house and scream, and I mean scream:  "What your name, where you from?" They'll do this for 30 minutes or so while they pound on my glass doors. No point trying to explain the situation to shirtless-Clint Eastwood-dad. Even with this little bit of strangeness, I really enjoy the kids' visits. A highlight of my stay in Vietnam.
My neighbors across the street gave me dessert tonight -- a jello and custard mix -- and it was awesome.  My other neighbor made incredible spaghetti the other day for me. It had seafood and tomatoes instead of traditional sauce. Great stuff. I'm also treated to some special coffee from a really special and cool neighbor. All is fine on the food front when it comes from the neighbors or Metro supermarket.
I had yet another motorbike accident tonight, but it was very minor. A girl rode into my back tire. All is well. I only mention it to remind myself never to let my guard down on the bike. A one-second distraction, like adjusting your mirror, can be catastrophic. No one respects the rules of the road, or demonstrates any road etiquette whatsoever, unless a cop happens to be there.
Students remain fantastic and classes are going well. At least for me. I can't speak for the students. I am a little tired. I've worked six days a week for seven months with no real break. The hours aren't long, and the classes are enjoyable, but that's a long stretch.
I am quite homesick these days. Really miss family and friends. Looking forward to my trip back in November.
Some friends are pressuring me to quit smoking. I'm trying and failing at the moment.