Big news and other musings

We're into our new house, but not without the usual trials and tribulations that I've learned to be patient with here. Construction workers were doing finishing work while we were living here. We had to tell them to not smoke in the house and snuff out their cigarette butts on our new tile floors. And, of course, they wanted to sleep on our living room floor from 11:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. every day -- nap time in Vietnam. The cigarette butts didn't seem to bother them while they napped. But they were nice enough folk, and, after several tries, finished the job mostly to our satisfaction. They did turn off our cold water one time for some unknown reason and all of our water was hot enough to make coffee from the tap. Really. The shower was especially challenging. After a week or so of nonsense like this, the job was done and we've settled in.
The house is built for Vietnamese people, of course, which means I've cracked my head half a dozen times on shelves and cabinets. I slammed my head above my right eye so hard on the corner of a glass shelf -- that Phuong wanted put up -- that I went down and was almost out for the count. There's a little golf-ball-sized lump above my right eye, but no big deal.
I got a massage today and the massage girl didn't understand -- or care -- that the little lump on my head hurt when she applied intense pressure to it with her thumb and index finger.
After church service on Sundays, Phuong and I stand on the balcony overlooking the parking lot and wait for the insane motorbike traffic (and riders) to clear out. While we were waiting last week, we watched (only for a second or two) as two boys about 10 years old peed on the side of the church. I understand when you gotta go, you gotta go, but there was a restroom less than 50 feet away.
There's no point in keeping a secret any longer. Phuong has a really big belly. Either she's been drinking boat-loads of beer, or she's pregnant. The answer is "B" since Phuong only shares a beer with me once in a while, and I'm drinking one beer at a time only once in a while. Needless to say, but I'll say it anyway: We're thrilled. The first three months were unpleasant for Phuong. She had morning sickness daily, and local doctors misdiagnosed her with a 50-50 chance for having rubella, which is very bad news for a yet-to-be-born baby. She went to a Ho Chi Minh City hospital and was pronounced healthy. She's feeling much better now and eating and sleeping and cleaning lots. We're anxious, of course, given my very advanced age. And this is Phuong's first baby. But so far, so good.
We're doing the paperwork to get married, and the paperwork is quite daunting. There have been multiple trips to the courthouse, and I have to try to get U.S. documents stamped at the U.S. Embassy in Ho Chi Minh City so local officials will accept them. We had to go to the local mental hospital last week to prove we were sane. Phuong passed and they let me slide. They tested my IQ, and I cheated on the test and tallied a 107 IQ. I guess I'm not as stupid as I look, which contradicts what Sister Alvernia screamed at me in front of the entire student body at St. Mary Magdalen about 54 years ago. But I'm not one to hold a grudge. The White Monkey is becoming patient, persistent and ... forgiving.

No stench, no motel -- we're moving

There's good news from the John and Phuong camp. This week, we'll be leaving our 'ho-motel, where we've both gotten very ill this week, where gnarly-looking guys who smell like they've never showered arrive with young girls in super-short shorts so they can rent a room for 17 minutes, and where the owners' dog barks 22 hours a day. The family that runs the 'ho-motel is OK, but their son, who's 10, throws stuff at Phuong and shows her a knife and scissors like he's going to make mayhem. Phuong's no wallflower, and she has put the kid in his place since the parents don't seem too upset by the boy's sociopathic behavior.  We'll move into our new house on Wednesday, and we're so excited that we've been barking 22 hours a day and chasing each other around while holding knives and scissors. It's been a rough few months here, but Phuong wanted to be near our house while it's being built. Three more days ...
I'm out of the tennis business. The guys only play doubles, and since I'm the only white monkey there, nobody really wants me on their "team." (It's interesting, humbling  and educational to be a minority here.) I went one day, and they complained that the guy who gets me as a partner will surely lose. The next  time I went, I played two very quick matches -- ha ha, my team did lose -- and then I watched for an hour because I wasn't invited to play again that day. Of course they demanded I pay since my side lost. No big deal to me because I can afford it, but I don't like paying to sit and watch. Ever since Phuong stopped playing, tennis is no fun anymore. Now, I'm so done with it. Boo-hoo.
Phuong bought "black chicken" on Saturday. Really, the chicken is black. And kind of small. Phuong said it was a Chinese dish since it was served in soup made with Chinese herbs and vegetables. Quite tasty, but not much meat on the little black chicken. It reminded me of the movie Eraserhead.
I've got several new classes -- a 7-year-old girl snapped "What the hell?" at me when I gave her and the other students an alphabet worksheet, which only a handful could do The other teachers thought this was hilarious, which makes me wonder if they accept this type of behavior from their students when they teach. Aw, what the hell do I know?
I don't teach my two favorite classes anymore, which is a bummer for me. But I teach a lot of beginners, and they're great. They try hard and I can get them on the path to proper pronunciation early before the bad habits set in. The kids learn fast (the ones who want to learn, that is) and they speak English very well.
I do some exercise in the park near our 'ho-motel, and folks leave me alone. I'm very grateful. But the park is next to a canal that smells like feces, and people throw their trash everywhere. One couple was having a lovely dinner in the dark next to the feces canal. I don't know about them, but I almost got threw up.
The line-cutting was spectacular last week. I got cut in front of: at a gas station; at church; at the hospital; at the pharmacy; and, of course, always at the supermarket. Phuong got burned at the hospital by some dufus. You expect this selfish behavior from others when you ride the bike. People act like they don't see you. But I'm always a little surprised when people do it in your face after you've been waiting in line. I lose it every once in a while and yell at somebody, but overall I'm very proud of my patience here. I can thank Phuong for that. I have something no one else in the world has -- a close relationship and bond with a woman who knows how to handle the White Monkey.

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.