What the #!$%?

I like all the students here. They're wonderful people and they're bright, but there's been a disturbing trend since I've returned from some time away. Some of the teenage students, being teenagers, like to use bad language (profanity, I guess) in class randomly and to my face. For example, in one class I told the students not to use the "f" word or say "sh%$" or "bull#$!##" in my classroom or I would kick them out of class. As soon as I finished my little speech, a 15-year-old boy says "What the F%$?" in my face. I understand that people want to test the waters, see what they can get away with, and show off. This stuff is all too common in my country (USA). I get it. But I don't unleash a barrage of Vietnamese profanity when I meet students' parents or new teachers or go to someone's home here. By the way, I did kick that kid's %#! out of class, and I'll do it every time.  When I tell other teachers about this problem, most laugh and think it's funny. %?@!# them! If they used profanity in my classroom, I would kick their $#!es out of the room, too. People say what they say on the street or in their homes. None of my business, and I can be as guilty as anyone. But there's a time and place, and a classroom during class isn't the time or place for profanity. Enough of this .... I'm done preaching.
I was a good samaritan last week on my motorbike. It was raining and I was going with the flow on  my bike on a very busy road in Bien Hoa. Up ahead of me, a girl about 18 years old wiped out. She got up but couldn't lift her bike (she was typically tiny and the bike was relatively big). So, I stopped behind her, lifted her bike, and away she went. She said thank you, but didn't look at me or smile. The oncoming traffic was pissed, and some folks laid on their horns to show their anger at me. I smiled, got on my bike, and rode away feeling good that I had helped someone. People have done the same for me here, and I truly appreciate it.
Phuong was in another motorbike accident last week. A woman was behind her and lost concentration and broadsided her while trying to pass or whatever. Phuong got a couple of scrapes -- nothing serious -- and her bike got about 400,000 dong damage, which Phuong paid. That's Phuong's third accident in a year. I may have to take her keys away.
When you stop at a red light here, you can see how much time remains before the light turns green for you to go. It usually counts down from 30 seconds. When it gets to ... 5...4...3....2....1.... people are already laying on their horns demanding you run the red light to get a 3-second edge, or whatever. Same as line cutting. Chuckleheads.
Christmas is getting bigger here every year. More decorations at stores, more Santas, more promotions. More opportunity to make money, I guess. One girl wasn't impressed. I wished my coffee shop waitress a Merry Christmas and gave her a bigger tip, and she said: "I don't care about that (Christmas)."  Ho ho ho!
I returned to tennis this week and played doubles. I did OK, but my team lost both matches. My partners seemed mildly irritated, but whatever. My game is up and down, but I've got the best serve of the bunch, and they know it. 

The White Monkey chills back in Vietnam

I'm very happy to be back in Vietnam because this is where Phuong is, and also because it's just about as warm here as it was in the United States. The world is upside down sometimes. My air travel in these troubled times was surprisingly smooth although I ran into a little difficulty in efficient Tokyo, of all places. My flight from Tokyo to Ho Chi Minh City was delayed because of problems with the Narita Airport buses, which ferry passengers from the terminal to the plane on the runway. Go figure. I got to HCMC a couple of hours late, so Phuong wasn't there. I was hassled by taxi drivers, and since it was near midnight, nothing, and I mean nothing, was open at the HCMC airport, one of the worst I've been at, along with the airport in Lima. Phuong eventually showed up and all was well. So I arrived early Thursday, ran around town on Friday, and taught four classes Saturday. I was Santa on Sunday morning for a school function (which I really enjoyed), and sick Sunday afternoon. I'm shaking with chills now. It's nice to be back.
Actually, I'm happy to be back "home" because I got fat in the United States on cheese, pretzels, milkshakes, cappuccinos, bagels and cream cheese, pizza and lots of beef. I love the food but hate the fact that all of my clothes are tight now. Besides, the coffee and chicken in Vietnam are the best.
Also, I'm happy to be back on the motorbike. Maybe I've fallen prey to the Stockholm Syndrome, but I've learned to enjoy the motorbike, except when it rains. But rainy season is pretty much over.
Of course, I missed Phuong the most when I was in the U.S., but I also really missed the students here. There are a few classes that are special to me, and when I saw the kids again, they almost hugged me. I say almost because public displays of affection are incredibly rare here. You'll see a little hand-holding on occasion, but that's about it. I guess everyone goes to my hotel/motel for the real affection. Quite a contrast to Peru, where public make-out sessions were the norm. Or the U.S., where people wear their emotions on their sleeves and everywhere else. Anyway, I'm happy to be teaching again and I'm happy to see the students.
I don't mind the folks here staring at me here, which started when I stepped off the plane, but I don't understand the people who laugh at me. Six guys near Phuong's family store pointed at me and started laughing when I got off my motorbike. After a no-nap, 31-hour trip and three hours sleep when I finally got home, I didn't share the laugh with them. They started yelling the usual crap at me: "Hey you, what's your name, ha ha ha. Where you from? Ha ha ha."  They wanted to engage me, for whatever reason, but I wasn't in the mood so I took care of business and went to my hotel/motel. Basically, I diffused what was becoming an unpleasant situation. Did I say I was happy to be back "home"?
We had to change rooms at our hotel/motel for personal reasons, and now we're in a room that's slightly bigger than a walk-in closet. The bathroom is so small that I inadvertently bumped the shower spigot and had an unexpected cold shower while taking care of bathroom business, if you know what I mean. Unbelievable. All the doors at the hotel/motel are locked at night, which makes it feel like I'm under house arrest. Creepy. Phuong negotiated a key so I can go on the balcony for a smoke late at night (after 10 p.m.).
It was wonderful to see family and friends in the U.S., and I want to thank everyone for their hospitality and generosity. Hosting the White Monkey in any capacity can be hazardous duty, or so I've been told. Thanks again.

Cars, warmth and pretzels in the USA

If you have any doubts about global warming, look at the weather in the U.S. It's December and the temperatures have been 55 in the day, 35 at night. They were warmer when I first got here. Not really complaining because the cold is tough on your body, especially a rapidly aging body. But it's warm here for winter. Of course, I don't really miss the 93 humid degrees in Vietnam. However, I do miss Phuong and don't like being away from her this long, but I've been busy so there isn't a lot of time to dwell on things. Doctors, driving, family, friends, lawyers and priests are occupying my time.
Oddly, I miss riding the motorbike. Driving a car has its pluses --I really enjoy listening to the radio in the car while shielded from rain. But the motorbike is clearly more social. You look other traffic in the eye in Vietnam, and on occasion smile and nod. Here, everyone's surrounded by metal and glass. In the U.S., I've had to slam on the breaks because I saw a stop sign at the last second. In Vietnam, you can keep moving as long as you avoid the crossing traffic. Very convenient. One thing I enjoy is the food here, although everyone is cooking Asian food for me ... noodles, rice, chicken in sauces, and so on. But I've been reunited with hard, sourdough pretzels, cheeses, steak, salsa, good beer (which, unfortunately, I can't drink much of) and Yahoo, the chocolate drink which may or may not have milk in it. I miss Phuong's cooking, but I like the ingredients here.
I want to thank the folks putting me up and taking care of me in the U.S.: Lynda, my ex-wife, made a wonderful turkey dinner on Thanksgivng; Ron gives me his wonderful couch and my angry cat; my brother and his wife keep me in luxury; John Sturm is gracious and he's becoming quite the chef as well, my children -- Jessica, Caroline, Jack, Alec -- are so special and caring and good-hearted. Love ya' all.
It's Saturday today, and Ron and I have planned a fishing expedition. Bass.
I miss my students and teaching, but that'll happen soon enough. Time flies here, and everywhere.
I'll be 61 years old in a few days. But I've been told that life begins at 60. Sadly, no one told me it ends at 61. Dong Nai River time.
Again, thanks to everyone who's taken care of me so far. If I forgot you, it's because I never really liked you to begin with. Well, not true. I'm just forgetful sometimes.
Miss you and love you Phuong. Can't wait to see you.

Butt-head contributes to pollution

Vietnam is going through quite a few changes, kind of like an industrial age of sorts. There's more industry, more building, more cars, and, unfortunately, more pollution. Still, it's not as bad as Shanghai from what I hear from other English teachers. The motorbike rules here, and motorbikes don't pollute as much as cars (I think) and while it's crowded in much of Vietnam, it's nothing like China, thank god. I always include a global warming and conservation lesson in all of my classes, so at least students are aware of the issues. And the students always point to my shirt pocket and say smoking cigarettes contributes to the problem. Guilty as charged.
Living in the tropics presents unique difficulties. There are some insects here that I don't recall seeing in the United States, and one of them decided to leave its mark on the White Monkey. The result is the White Monkey has deep purple spots on his right foot, which I've had for more than a week. I'll spare you the photo. The three spots, each about the size of a quarter, cause no pain but they're disconcerting and gnarly looking. About as attractive as my missing teeth. Phuong assures me they'll go away soon, explaining that the wormy-looking thing that bit me actually shot some kind of dye-like fluid into me. But that's the least of my worries. I've become the world's oldest man with an acne problem, thanks to the heat, humidity and filthy air here. The town is growing, and at many of the construction sites the excess materials are burned, releasing god-knows-what into the air. But god knows there's a place on my face for those toxins, where they blossom into full, red-blooded pimples, which Phuong and I call "tomatoes." You can also get them on your legs and arms. My face gets the brunt of the action. Finally, small cuts and scratches take a long time to heal here. Part of that could be my age, but I think the weather and god-knows-what are factors as well.
After Phuong and I play singles tennis, a couple of older men play us in doubles. We don't go all out against our older opponents, instead trying to improve our already amazing games. As a result, we lose. So the 84-year-old guys tells us Monday that he'll get a different partner so we'll have a better chance to win. He felt sorry for us and thought we were getting frustrated. I decided to give a little more effort against the old guy and his new partner Thursday, and guess what? We lost. Ah, but those old guys didn't have a chance against my serve. Ha!! Hey wait, I'm an old guy, too.
I was so happy with my new front teeth that Phuong and I decided to fix up her front teeth. The picture on the right says it all. Beautiful smile, beautiful teeth, beautiful woman. I feel blessed. Her bottom teeth are next. I guess in the day, not too long ago when Phuong was a teenager, the solution to issues like tooth decay was to yank that sucker out, even if it was a permanent tooth. Progress can be a beautiful thing.
I'm getting more excited about my trip to the U.S. to see family, friends, bankers, doctors and a priest and a lawyer. Quite the mix, and good times, I'm sure. I miss Yellow Springs, especially Glen Helen Nature Preserve. I know I'll do some hiking.

Cold showers, Elvis, Halloween

When I take a shower in the Nha Nghi hotel, which is quite often, I'm reminded of my days in Peru. The water is heated by solar energy, like Peru, the supply is limited, like Peru, and when the days are cloudy or rainy ... well, cold showers can be quite invigorating. Like Peru. Morning showers are the coldest, so I'm always wide awake for my Saturday and Sunday morning classes. I use the washcloth-and-fast-rinse method, so it's not so horrible. And when we do have hot or warm water, Phuong makes sure to take a nice, long shower. Rainy season has finally slowed down, so the warmer water has been more plentiful. Phuong and I plan to have a solar water heater in our house. Go green.
Being an egomaniac, I always follow the number of hits my blog gets and where the hits are coming from. Last week I had views from six continents -- only the third or fourth 'time that's happened. Africa rarely reads me -- and the people there don't know what they're missing. But last week I had a couple of hits from Nigeria, and I'm going to guess that someone from that country sent me a weird voodoo message, saying I could improve my wealth and love life with the help of a little voodoo. My love life is fine these days, but I'll need more than a little voodoo to help my financial situation. Whatever. I have nearly 16,000 hits overall, so that's kind of cool. I told you I was an egomaniac.
My new teeth are in place, and they feel pretty good. They're going to take a little getting used to, but overall I'm very pleased with the job the dentist did, and how my mug looks. It would have been more than 10 times more expensive to get the same dental work done in the USA, so now I really have a reason to smile and show off my new pearly whites. Thank you Dentist Thu. And, the dentist was a very nice person and gave the White Monkey a bunch of bananas to eat after fixing my bridge.
I've had students making Halloween masks in class the past week or so. Halloween is celebrated here, but it's not a big deal like in the USA, where a lot of people use it as an excuse to consume massive amounts of alcohol. Really scary. But most of the students here, especially the older ones, really enjoy the project. Some boys, about 11 to 14 years old, are a little too cool to participate. I totally understand, because I was little too cool for a lot of things when I was younger. The students actually pick up some English when they make the masks: words like mask (duh), scissors, glue, paste, ghost, and goof off.
I lost to Phuong 6-0 last week in our bitter tennis rivalry, but courageously came back this week to win three straight sets and take back the title. My hip, injured in a fall a few weeks ago, is completely healed, so I'm moving like a gazelle again, or at least like a graceful wildebeest. Phuong and I played doubles together, and we got beat 6-2 by two guys with a combined age of 154. Really. One guy is 84 and the other guy is around 70. We had fun and we're playing them again tomorrow.
I'm super excited about returning to the USA in a few weeks. I'll be crazy busy with eye work, a visit to an immigration lawyer, a visit to a Catholic church. The lawyer and church visits are in preparation for getting Phuong a visa so we can get married in the USA. If the church rejects us, we'll go to Las Vegas and get married by an Elvis impersonator. At least that's my plan.Thank you very much.

The tongue was wonderful

Our small room in the hotel/motel is a big challenge. I have lots of books and Phuong has lots of computer gear, so we're knocking things over all the time, tripping over everything  and somehow losing track of our stuff. And, of course, everything is built for a smaller person. The sink, closet and fridge are low to the ground, so my back and mending hip are put to the test. I'm also tested by the four flights of stairs I walk a few times a day. The knob on our door started sticking, so I poured pure virgin olive oil all over it, and presto, good as new. That's one of my great accomplishments in Vietnam. We're making do and our relationship survives, despite the Nha Nghi.
We do have crazy neighbors -- an old Italian guy and his younger Vietnamese girlfriend. They scream and yell at each other every day and throw trash out the fourth-floor window. We got fed up one day -- I yelled at them to take their stupid fights outside and Phuong left a note by the door telling them to stop throwing trash out the window. 
I got an X-ray of my messed-up teeth for the dentist. That was interesting -- the X-ray room has paint chipping off the walls and a metal bed. Other than an X-ray machine, that was it. The X-ray guy had me hold the X-ray plate in place with my thumb, and he put me in a semi-sit-up position for my photo op. I guess the photo was OK. The price was certainly right -- $1.50 USD.
I gave the X-ray to the dentist on Friday, and she yanked out my crumbling bridge (top, front, four teeth) on Sunday. The process was surprisingly painless, but she didn't give me a temporary replacement so I'm ready for Halloween early. In the interest of full disclosure, I'll post a picture of my "before" front teeth. When the new bridge arrives in a couple of days, I'll post that photo as well. I can't teach for a few days because I don't have my million-dollar smile and my speech isn't quite the same -- I whistle on the "s" words.
Last week, when I had front teeth, Phuong cooked pig heart and pig tongue for our dinner. Both were delicious and Phuong did an excellent job preparing them. I would recommend both, but some people might be turned off by the texture of the tongue, although I had no problem with it.
I had good mojo with my classes last week, and even won a bet with a student about kilos and pounds. I mentioned that a kilo is 2.2 pounds, and a student nicknamed John was sure I was wrong and agreed to a bet, which, of course, I won. After all, I'm the teacher. The student is a great guy and the class is super awesome, so we had a good laugh over it and I tried to moon walk to celebrate.
A couple weeks ago a few students at a company annoyed me a little, asking me if I had been drinking beer before class because I was red. A little miffed, I told them I had just ridden 30 minutes on the back of a bike to class in 95-degree heat, that I grew up in a country that has cold weather, that I'm a big man, and that I'm not Vietnamese and acclimated to the conditions here. They laughed, and I don't know why.
Phuong beat me for the tennis championship last Friday, 6-3, and she followed that up by trouncing me 6-0. Man, I was pissed. But give me time, and I'll come up with the perfect excuse for my loss.

Crumbling teeth, hip pointer, wet rides; no worries

Phuong and I were eating chicken wings for lunch the other day when I bit on something that felt like glass. I spit out the white, porcelain-like material and thought it was bone. Make that ...hoped it was bone. Wrong. It was my front tooth. The material was enamel, or something like that. I have a bridge of four fake, front, top teeth. For 38 years or so the bridge gave me a Tom Cruise smile, or so I thought. Now I look like a minor league hockey player. My front teeth are falling apart, so I'm rolling the dice and having a Vietnamese dentist replace my bridge. The good news is that Phuong knows the dentist, and the dentist is a woman. I like Vietnamese women because they're direct and practical. The dentist is going to "fix me up"  later in October, so I hope to return to the United States in November looking like Tom Cruise again -- or no worse than Mr. Ed. Looks don't mean much at this stage of my life, but I want to be able to chew until Phuong puts me in the Dong Nai River.
September and October have been extremely rainy this year. It always rains as I'm leaving for work or traveling between assignments on a bike. Last week, storm Number 3 (the storms get numbers here) slammed into me while I was on the back of a bike going from my first class at a sneaker company to my second class at our home office. The rain and wind was so severe my driver stopped the bike. We waited a few minutes and the rain got more intense, flooding the streets because the drains are filled with litter. So we got back on the bike and sloshed our way to my second of three classes that night. The ride usually takes 20 to 30 minutes. That night it took 55 minutes because we had to detour to avoid flooding. I arrived soaking wet to class, 20 minutes late. My students looked at me like I was some guy with giant front teeth. They had no pity for the White Monkey even though my shoes squished when I walked. It was still raining when class finished, and I had to ride my bike to another site for my third class. Not a good night, but I got through. I woke up sick the next day, but Phuong made me soak my feet in warm salt water for half an hour. Son of a gun, I got better immediately and instantly resumed my cigarette smoking with no ill effects, other than the usual ill effects from cigarette smoking.
I took a nasty fall in tennis a week ago. Phuong hit the ball toward my man zone and I tried some fancy footwork to hit a winner at the net. I promptly fell on my right hip ... hard. Bone met hardcourt and hardcourt won that point. A lesser man, for example Hercules, would have stopped playing. I continued and won the title that day on one leg. The hip is slowly improving. My friend Ron diagnosed my injury -- from thousands of miles away during a skype chat -- as a hip pointer. I ice it after we play every day and all seems to be going fairly well other than an odd popping sound in my hip when I bend over. I've stopped bending over. Today, I charged the net on one point and Phuong hit the ball extremely hard and it went between my legs, missing the man zone by mere inches. We're still laughing and it's nine hours later. The match ended in a 6-6 tie, by the way.
Classes are very good, the students are very good, and Phuong is the greatest human being in the known universe. I can't wait to marry her. There's some work left to do for this to happen, but I'll save that for another blog. So this gap-toothed, hobbling White Monkey is quite content.