My first Polish student: 8-year-old Stasiu

Lucja, the CEO at Face2Face (my future employer) in Kety, Poland,  is working to get the White Monkey, Phuong and Joanna into the country. It looks like it's going to happen because of Lucja's hard work. How cool is that? Phuong will get an "invitation" to enter Poland for one year, then she can apply for a visa or residency.
I did a demonstration lesson on Skype with Lucja's 8-year-old son, Stasiu, and he's an awesome young man. For a Skype class, we had a good time and were laughing pretty good -- and his English is top-notch. The CEO's husband was very nice, and Stasiu's older brother -- I'm pretty sure that's who was also there -- was fun as well. They're a very nice family and I'm certain it will be a great experience working for them -- and with them.
I didn't realize it during the interview process, but I found out from an old newspaper buddy, Max,  that Kety is extremely close to Auschwitz, which is in Oswiecim, a town about 12 miles north of Kety.  So, in addition to the wonderful teaching opportunity, beautiful countryside and temperate climate, there's a somber and world-changing history lesson near Kety. I really want my daughter Joanna to eventually understand what took place at Auschwitz and why. It's an amazing and somewhat chilling (an apt word that Max used) opportunity for Joanna, Phuong and me.

* * *

I've been teaching English privately since I left the language center in Bien Hoa, and I've developed a couple of good friendships with two of my students. One student, My (pronounced Me), is going to attend a university in Toronto. She's a very smart girl and her English is very, very good. She's waiting for her visa  and will no doubt be leaving soon. I planned to visit her in Toronto when I returned to the U.S. for eye work, but it appears I'll be teaching in Poland and my U.S. time will be limited. My is as sweet as can be.
The other student, Sam, is one of the coolest girls I've met -- after my wife, three daughters and one granddaughter, of course. But Sam has a quick wit, a quick mind, and her English is improving rapidly -- and not because of her teacher. Sam learns fast and remembers, and has a great sense of humor. I came to class dressed in a blue shirt and blue pants one morning, and Sam says: "Oh, hi Blue Monkey." I'll really miss her when I leave. The great thing about teaching privately is that you can choose your students. I've had a few that didn't work out. Good people, but like I said, it didn't work out ... so I don't teach them.

* * *

Joanna does this weird Frankenstein walk around the house -- she locks her knees and swings each leg around.  I saw her and said "Stomp, stomp, stomp." I was incorrectly copying one of her books where the Llama character goes "thump, thump, thump." Big boo-boo. Joanna thought I was staying "stop, stop, stop." and burst into tears and cried for at least a couple of minutes. Phuong and Sam figured out the problem. I was too stupid to get it at first. Oops.
We have to park our motorbikes in the living room or they'll get stolen. Naturally, Joanna climbs to the seats and sits there like she's riding a bike. She's fallen a few times and cries, but is no worse for the wear other than scrapes and bruises. Lucky, I guess. She also climbs into her stroller constantly because she loves going out and going to the park. The motorbike riders and car drivers make walking to the park nerve-wracking.

* * *

I taught Phuong how to serve, and now she's real trouble. She beat me 3-6 on Saturday. I was winning the second set 4-1, and an angry Phuong smashed the ball in my direction on the changeover and the ball hit me in the man zone. I buckled over, for real, and the match ended. I claimed a 7-7 tie on aggregate points, and an 8-7 overall victory for the point I received due to Phuong's unsportsmanlike conduct. The WTA is reviewing.
An angry White Monkey dominated the rematch yesterday 6-0, 5-3 (retired due to Joanna). Tai is wonderful with Joanna, but the creep beat me 4-6 after taking care of our daughter for an hour.

* * *

It looks like I'll be going to the U.S. for a short visit starting Jan. 9, then heading to Poland on Jan. 16, and working my way back to Vietnam in the middle of February to bring Joanna and Phuong to Kety (I'll miss them super much). It should be cold and rainy or snowy in Kety, and I couldn't be happier.
HAPPY NEW  YEAR TO ALL ESPECIALLY TO MY CHILDREN IN THE U.S.!

Merry Christmas to my family in the United States; I've accepted a teaching job in Kety, Poland

Special Christmas edition blog.
I want to wish a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year (happy holidays!) to my children and granddaughter in the United States -- and everyone else I know, have known, and will know. I don't like being away from my family in the U.S., whether they want to see me or not. I hope to get back there to live with Phuong and Joanna in the future. Until then, I hope to be blogging and raising my family in Kety, Poland. Who knows, maybe we'll settle there.
Oh yes, that reminds me. It looks like our family will be on the move. I've accepted a job teaching English in Kety, Poland, with a company called Face2Face. Now, the hard part begins. The CEO is working on getting a visa for Phuong to live in Poland. I'm extremely motivated to work there because I believe the CEO is a bright and compassionate woman, the small town of Kety near the border with the Czech Republic looks lovely, and the weather is cloudy and temperate. I have no doubts the students will be great. They were great in Vietnam and mucho (mas?) great in Peru. Face2Face uses the direct method, which may be challenging at first, but a motivated White Monkey has the ability to produce quality. Like I said, I'm motivated. The direct method uses only English, a question and answer format much of the time with lots of conversation, and no real grammar instruction ...  to speak of (ha ha). Even though I've been referred to as Grammar John, I'm sure I'll adapt and deliver the best lessons I can.
If things don't work out with Phuong and the visa, I can't take the job because I can't separate the family.  I've been down that road before and it doesn't work. And Joanna really needs her dad -- who else will stop her from walking on the kitchen table during meals and watching cartoons? I'll be extremely upset and disappointed if we can't move, but my wife and daughter and I will be together, and that's how it should be and will be. But I have the utmost confidence in the woman I'll be working for in Poland; I believe she can move mountains for Phuong.

* * *

My lovely wife Phuong really enjoyed making kimchi in Seoul, and now she's making it for us at home in Vietnam. Phuong knows I like hot stuff, and she laid it on thick in the first batch. The White Monkey was swinging from the chandeliers. Well, we don't have chandeliers, but we have four bathrooms. Anyway, Phuong is a perfectionist -- worse than me -- and she's been tinkering with her recipe. Fantastic stuff and a fantastic wife.

* * *

Our daughter Joanna has an amazing skill like every child. In a pile of 50 toys, she can find the one item she shouldn't have -- a pair of scissors, or nail clippers, or lotion. Why is that stuff with her toys? Because she puts it there, of course. She grabs the air conditioner remote and cranks up the fan. She still turns off the fan downstairs, where we need it. She still shakes her head no when we pray before meals, and I laugh because it's funny. In my pre-meal prayer, I sometimes thank God we don't go to church anymore because noisy, energetic, and full of life babies aren't welcome. Joanna still shakes her head no.
Joanna has taken a shine to coffee. She loves the foam when I get cappuccinos and she'll sip regular coffee out of the mug and go "MMMMMM" like it's the best stuff she's ever had.  Funny kid.
I mistakenly gave Joanna seaweed with wasabi. She loves the green seaweed that looks like a sheet of paper, and I thought that's what I was feeding her. Well, I was giving her the normal looking seaweed, but there was wasabi in it. I usually taste everything I give her, but I let this one pass because I thought it was regular seaweed. Anyway, Joanna ate it, and started crying. Not crazy crying, but crying. I gave her orange juice and water and she cooled off. Then, she sneakily reached for the wasabi-infused seaweed again, snagged a piece, cried again, drank again, and reached again. Kids are the greatest. No exciting Joanna news otherwise. She got Bluetooth headphones, a Mr. Microphone, and a clock for Christmas. She's still big and growing, smiles, fusses and talks more, and is communicating at a higher level every day. She's such a source of joy. She'll do well in Poland, no doubt, although she'll be dealing with yet another language. But so will Phuong and I.
I think we'll all enjoy Poland, if we can get there.

* * *

If a handful of people read this blog, I should reach 30,000 hits all-time. Reader No. 30,000 gets a special prize: A collection of all my blogs I'm putting together (with photos). But since I'll have no idea who reader No. 30,000 is, never mind.

A trip to South Korea: We got Seoul but we're not soldiers

We just got back from a four-day trip to modern, clean and expensive Seoul, and we loved the city even though it was freezing cold. Joanna and Phuong had a tough time adjusting to the cold weather and our cramped traveling and living conditions, but they persevered. I loved all of it, even the high prices, since high prices minimize riff-raff.
The only way Joanna would fall asleep on the bus and in the plane was if I sang to her. Thank God I remembered most of the words. If I tried to improvise lyrics, Joanna would know and start to cry. I estimate that I sang for at least five hours to Joanna -- If You're Happy; Wheels on the Bus; ABC (the long version I use for class); One Little Finger; Itsy Bitsy Spider; Hickory Dickory Dock; Patty-cake; and on and on and over and over. It worked every time.

• • •

Highlights and lowlights of the trip:
• First, I don't recommend traveling with a 17-month-old who's a bit on the "active" side, especially with a bush league airline like Vietjet Air. Our plane was cramped and the flight attendants were dismissive and surly. No food, no drinks, nothing for a 51/2-hour flight. Unless you paid.
• It was a typical tour -- go go go. But our travel-mates were fantastic. They pampered and put up with a whining, crying Joanna. They chatted with me in their best English. All of them were very good people.
• It was cold the entire time in Seoul -- 10 to 32 degrees fahrenheit (-12 to 0 C). A highlight for me and Joanna, but a lowlight for airsick and bus-sick Phuong. However, Phuong took dramamine and bundled up. She adapted and liked Korea.
• We flew a red-eye to Seoul, then ate kimchi, and cabbage and pork soup, saw snow at a ski resort and froze our butts off at Nami Island, a nice but touristy place with sculptures and carvings and lots of ice. 
• We forgot the stroller, so we carried Joanna a lot. I did much of the bull work. You should check out my "guns" now. We were exhausted and never really recovered. But Phuong made kimchi one day, we went to a ginseng lab, seaweed lab, pine extract lab, ate more kimchi and pork soup, went shopping, ate more kimchi, did some more shopping, ate some udon noodles with a side of kimchi, and had a mediocre dinner at a Korean country restaurant -- chicken, potatoes, carrots, onions, rice noodles.
• Grilled fish was the best meal we had. Salty, spicy, and plentiful.
• The highlight of the trip for me was reconnecting with an old friend, Jon Knibloe (Phuong calls him Jon K), who taught with me in Peru. Jon has been teaching in Korea for the past six years and really enjoys it. He came to our hotel, met Phuong, and watched Joanna sleep for a little bit. Then we went out and drank beer and solved most of the world's problems as we reminisced about Peru and shared observations about teaching in Asia. A wonderful time.
• The last night, Phuong and I chose not to go to a show we already saw in Thailand. We took a taxi, but the driver had no idea how to get to our hotel -- and he had GPS. Must be an Asian thing because we have the same trouble sometimes in Vietnam. Anyway, we were dropped off God-knows-where, but a fantastic Korean policeman got out of his car and walked us to our hotel.
• In addition to kimchi, there are coffee shops everywhere. I did see a couple of massage parlors but only one motorbike because it's too cold.
• Nobody talked about the North or the Great Leader. Even with new threats, it's old news in Seoul.
• Milk is very difficult to get. They have soy milk, but I wanted the cow variety for Joanna. After walking forever and not finding milk, I bought soy milk and jokingly asked a young Korean girl behind the counter: "Do so many people kill themselves here because they can't get cow milk?" I know, my mouth works before my brain. But the girl laughed her head off. I told you I liked Korea and Koreans.
• Since Joanna didn't super enjoy the traveling parts of the trip, it was difficult for us to enjoy it completely. But our fellow travelers were so understanding. Me? I'm a happy traveler and I was thrilled to get out of Bien Hoa. I loved Seoul and the cold. Even Phuong noticed that I wasn't negative about anything -- probably a first in the White Monkey's existence.

• • •

Seoul is pretty hip and very modern, the scenery is wonderful, the weather can be cold, but it has a temperate climate, which I like, and the people seem to love their rules and regulations. The locals are nice enough, though, and there was no staring. Seoul is an international city with big city prices. But we enjoyed it. Phuong, Joanna and I give it three thumbs up.

• • •

My former employer VMG played a crucial role in my daughter Joanna getting her resident's card in Vietnam. Without this card, Joanna could not leave the country. God bless Phuong for her hard work arranging everything, God bless VMG for their help, and, as always, God bless the United States of America.

Joanna and the life of a 'retired' White Monkey in Vietnam

Our 17-month-old daughter Joanna is 84 centimeters tall and weighs 12 kilograms. She's in the 98th to 100th percentile for both height and weight. I was a little concerned about her size until I saw she wasn't off the charts. She's a very big girl in a country where people still tend to be smaller. And her mom is Vietnamese, but Phuong is 5-foot-3-1/2 inches tall, which is tall for a woman here. When other parents find out Joanna's age, they're quite shocked at her size. They still ask if she has a special diet. Of course, she doesn't. But like any good girl, she loves her chocolate. They're also shocked she's half-Vietnamese. Some ask Phuong if she's babysitting for foreigners. Race is very important here, like anywhere else, I guess.
Joanna likes kicking a soccer ball in the park, loves doing somersaults -- front and backwards --  and enjoys throwing a tennis ball and dragging my tennis racket around the court and the house. If we're forced to move to South America, we'll get Juan Martin del Potro to be her coach. Joanna is getting handy with a fork, tries but struggles with chopsticks, and enjoys orange juice and water. She'll dance whenever she hears music, even funeral music or the music that precedes the government propaganda blared over loudspeakers all over the city each day at 5 p.m. She'll even dance when I sing, so Phuong and I suspect she's tone deaf. She'll repeat some of the ABC's when I say them, but sometimes she'll say "C" wrong on purpose and smirk at me. She can reach up and open the door to her room and escape. She can handle a remote, especially off and on, but I still don't let her watch videos and TV.  I'm not so sure that's the case when Joanna goes to her grandmom's family store. Like her dad, Joanna seems to dislike the heat. She sweats a lot and gets really cranky and thirsty. In other words, she acts -- and looks -- a lot more American than Vietnamese.
We've settled into a very nice routine here since I quit my job. I help some of Phuong's friends with their English in the morning and afterward I take care of some chores around the house. (I mistook bleach for liquid detergent and altered the color of many of our T-shirts and shorts.) While I slave for the betterment of the family and our household, Phuong and Joanna go to the park for a while, then hang out in the store that Phuong's family has in their house. I'll poke around on the internet and read about Donald Trump and North Korea and any other news of note, then hang with Joanna until I make lunch and milkshakes around 11:30. We get up early (6 a.m.) so we eat early.  After lunch, Joanna may or may not take a nap. I'll read her a bunch of books in the afternoon. Sometimes she's interested. Other times, not so much. I'll make my way to a coffee shop and then to the park for tai chi. I haven't seen the kid who yelled f$#k you! at me in the park  ... since he yelled f$#k you! at me in the park. I'm pretty sure Phuong scared the s&#t out of him when she pointed at him, and then walked toward the little weenie with a menacing look on her face. God, I love my wife. After chi, Phuong and Joanna will join me in the park for a walk and some soccer. Phuong usually cooks dinner but I'll chip in with spaghetti and hamburgers a couple of nights. At night, I read to and play with Joanna, do tai chi again, and share a beer with Phuong. Ah, the life of the 'retired' White Monkey.
In tennis, I lost to Tai 4-6 on Sunday and beat Phuong 6-1, but Joanna was a factor in both of the matches, so those scores come with an asterisk. If my net game improves, and Phuong's serve improves, we'll ... have a better net game and serve.
If we get the required paperwork for Joanna in time, we'll travel to Seoul, South Korea, for five days and four nights. We're looking forward to the cold weather and big, modern city. Hopefully, I'll meet an old buddy from Peru, Jon, and we'll share dinner, drinks, and war stories about Arequipa. Jon works in Seoul and was one of the truly wonderful people I met in Peru. Hope to see you soon, Jon.

The price of capitalism; epic tennis; prayers and laughter

Capitalism is still a work in progress in Vietnam, or at least in Bien Hoa City. The economy is clearly on the rise here, and this is evident in the increasing number of cars on the road. The infrastructure isn't the greatest, but it's improving and there's tons of roadwork and construction everywhere. The country is clearly developing. However, simple concepts such as customer service remain elusive to the locals. Just like in Peru, businesses close anywhere from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. daily, and this includes pharmacies. Some people require more sleep than others require medicine, I guess. And I've been denied purchases of items on the shelves because there were no price tags on them. Twice in the past week this happened -- at a bookstore where I wanted to buy puzzles for Joanna and at a specialty food store where I tried to buy chocolate for Phuong. In both cases, the cashiers shouted at me in Vietnamese, as if raising their voices would make their language easier to understand for the White Monkey. Trust me, it doesn't do anything other than ratchet up the tension. And the cashiers grabbed the items out of my hands and returned them to the shelves, where they could confuse future customers. Both planned purchases involved quite a bit of money, but since I wasn't dealing with the owners or people with any tact or social graces, my dong stayed in my pants, so to speak. Sorry, Phuong and Joanna. I tried to get you guys something special. Maybe next time. This has happened about a dozen times since I've lived here, but there's no point in getting angry. They wouldn't understand and they really don't care since it isn't their business anyway.
Last Sunday, Phuong and I had our first tennis match since Joanna was born. And it was the struggle I expected. At 3-3, the never-ending monsoon rains came and delayed the match for 45 minutes. The wait messed up Phuong's game and I won 6-3, but I see trouble ahead. Phuong's serve and ground-strokes are much improved because of her work with Tai, and she still runs like a gazelle.  My game is also improved, but I run like a 62-year-old fish. And my right ankle has never really recovered from one of my motorbike wrecks, so I have my excuse ready and waiting when Phuong starts dominating, which I suspect will be real soon. Tai and I had two tough matches over the weekend -- I beat him 6-3 and lost 4-6. I told him I was the overall champion and better human being based on the 10-9 aggregate score in my favor from the two matches. Tai's a good sport ... he smiled.
Joanna actually lets Phuong and I play and she isn't too disruptive. She'll wander onto the court once in a while, but she scoots off when we plead with her. Joanna's cousin Hai tags along and plays with her. Joanna loves Hai, and starts laughing as soon as she sees him. She had a blast playing in the rain while wearing only her diaper during our rain delay.
Phuong and I are looking into traveling, possibly to South Korea. I need to get out of town and so does Phuong. The little peanut Joanna gets bored easily (like her dad) and loves new adventures, so we believe she should do OK on a trip. But with Phuong, there's always the challenge of getting a visa. Canada nixed her and the U.S., well, you know that story. We really do plan to return to Vietnam -- I can't go anywhere until social security kicks in when I'm 66. That's still more than three years away, but time flies when you're getting old.
I'm in the process of putting together all of my blogs and travel photos to make a book about teaching in the TEFL world. It gives me something to do when Joanna takes a nap.
When I say grace before meals and add a little prayer asking for God to bless Phuong, Joanna and Daddy, Joanna vehemently shakes her head "no" and laughs ... every time. It cracks Phuong and I up, and we can't help but join Joanna in laughter.  Amen to that.

A lottery winner again; drugs do their job; kid curses at the White Monkey; scanning the globe

Even though my life is ... uh ... challenging here, I seem to have a knack for hitting the lottery.  I nailed the numbers again this week. Small stuff, really, but to repeat a quote from my beautiful wife Phuong: "A win is a win."  I won 100,000 dong, about the fifth or sixth time I've done so. Not horrible for a 10,000 dong ticket.  So that's very roughly $5 U.S. for a 50-cent investment. Like I said, it's small stuff  but it beats losing. Plus, I hit for $150 on a 50-cent investment once, so I'm certainly not complaining. And I've been playing the lottery for only a couple of years, not for the nearly five years I've lived here. Getting your winnings, like everything else here for me, can be difficult. The sellers are supposed to pay, but some won't pay for whatever reason. A seller refused to pay me for the winning ticket. One of the hu tieu girls told me I have to buy -- or must buy -- more tickets in order to get paid. This pissed me off, of course, and I told her Americans don't "have to" or "must" do anything. I still don't have my temper (reactions) under control yet. I saw a guy I used to always buy tickets from, and he paid me the 100,000 no questions asked. I gave him a 50,000 tip.
The powerful drugs my wife and father-in-law purchased for me from the pharmacy knocked out whatever invaded my body. I'm well again after being in a drug-induced stupor for three days. Same with Phuong. In addition, Phuong has a complete set of teeth for the first time since she was 13 years old. A beautiful woman has become even more beautiful. But ironically, she's the second-best-looking female in our house. Joanna is No. 1, which is what one of our truly friendly neighbors calls her. Phuong accepts her runner-up status because Joanna's smile lights up a room.
Speaking of my temper,  I was doing tai chi in the park on Thanksgiving Day when two kids on bikes came a little too close to watch. One of the kids kept staring and smiling at me, trying his best to distract me.  I said nothing, threw my hands in the air and gave up on the tai chi. I walked over to Phuong and Joanna, and said I'll do my exercise at home. The kids on the bikes rode about 50 yards away, and one of them yelled F@%K YOU! in Vietnamese at me loud enough for a group of teens taking selfies, two middle-aged couples and my wife and daughter to clearly hear. My friend in the U.S. said I should have offered to teach the kids, who were about 12 or 13 years old, how to say F@%K YOU! in English for a small fee of, say, 100,000 dong. Phuong and I were both miffed, but those bold boys took off on their bikes as soon as they swore at the White Monkey, my Vietnamese wife, and my 16-month-old daughter Joanna. Some people don't like the moniker White Monkey, but that's what I am to so many people here. The White Monkey: No other name is more apropos.
Young people shouting F@%K is one of the reasons I don't work for language centers here anymore. When I complained about this behavior in the classroom, staffers always made excuses and defended the foul-mouthed young folk. Well, I say folk that.
Joanna continues to speak a little English and very little Vietnamese. According to internet research, you can't teach a baby two languages in a two-language household any more than you can teach them how to smile, or how to walk. It happens naturally, and Joanna (and all babies, for that matter) know when people are speaking one language or another. "Experts" say to just let the speaking and language thing happen naturally. Joanna seems well-adapted and we're happy with how she's doing. However, two neighborhood kids, a 28-month-old boy and 30-month-old girl, are a little too aggressive with Joanna. Two days ago, the boy shoved Joanna pretty good when she touched a toy elephant on the boy's tricycle (the boy wasn't on his trike at the time) and the girl refused to share any of her toys with Joanna, but she was more than willing to take toys away from Joanna. Kids will do that kind of stuff, so I'm not real concerned. Joanna is a big girl and she'll be able to handle herself  in a very short time.
We're researching countries with favorable immigration policies in case the U.S. ultimately rejects our pleas to let Phuong in the United States. Can't imagine that would happen, but you never know. Uruguay and Ecuador are the leading contenders at the moment. We have a few years to worry about this, but we'd like to know something by the time Joanna is 5 years old.

Losing my temper (again), loving my supportive family and believing in my country and drugs

I lost my temper with Joanna last week, and yelled at her pretty good. She cried a little and avoided me like the plague, which has made a comeback in Madagascar, by the way. Joanna was tearing the pages out of the books I got her in the U.S., and I nicely asked her to stop. She repeated the offense, but I stayed calm (like Phuong) and again asked her to stop rather nicely. The third time she did it, I lost my temper (unlike Phuong) and yelled at her, which is unforgivable with a 16-month-old girl. Phuong looked at me in horror.  Joanna froze for a second, looked at me in horror, and ran to  mommy's arms. Joanna didn't stop crying until I left the room. So I left the room, taking all the torn books with me to another room. I taped them back together and returned to Joanna. She was intrepid and smiled when I began reading the torn  -- and subsequently repaired -- books to her, especially "My Dad is Beautiful." So, our spat lasted seven minutes, and everything is wonderful again. I wanted to kill myself after I raised my voice, but Phuong said that Joanna needs a dad for a few more years and suggested I wait until she's a teenager. Will do. I realize how unsavory my temper can be -- and I'm sure my first four children will attest to this unpleasant fact. Apologies now mean nothing to my kids, even though I am sorry, but I'm trying to control my temper. For me, temper is  not a choice but a reaction. So, I'll accurately say that I am trying hard to control my reactions.
The credit goes to Phuong and all of her family, including Joanna, who seem to have a real understanding of me. They're sympathetic, but not judgmental, of my situation here (yes, here come the excuses). They know it's 94 degrees with miserable weather every day. They know I can't go anywhere here without difficulty of some sort: people waving their hands in my face; waitresses refusing to wait on me while being unwilling to try to understand my Vietnamese, and then staring, laughing and pointing at me with their co-workers; people riding their motorbikes at stupid speeds way too close to me; and kids and adults refusing to wait on me in bookstores and any other business catering to locals only. Sounds like I'm miserable, but honest to God I'm not. Phuong and Joanna keep me smiling. I've developed a small circle of businesses I can go to without inconveniences. I can walk at certain times of the day when people don't see, interact with, or hassle me.  The food is awesome (thank you, Phuong). The fruit stand ladies look after me and some of the coffee shops actually understand me when I say "coffee milk hot" / cafe sua nong.  Our trips to the park each day are wonderful -- the security guards there smile and chat with us, and the other parents always engage us in a pleasant way.  Our Sunday tennis with Tai is a source of joy -- Phuong and I are starting to talk smack with each other again, Phuong's ground strokes are tough, and my game has improved to the point where I can give Tai a tussle and, once in a while, win a match.
None of these good times here would be possible without Phuong and Joanna. I'd be somewhere else, otherwise, probably teaching in Peru, Poland, or Ecuador.  My family could end up in one of these places anyway if my country (the United States) doesn't wise up and let me move back home WITH my wife and daughter. Phuong and Joanna have so much to offer that any country unwilling to accept them would be making a big mistake. Right is might, and I'm sure my country will eventually do the right thing.
I'm still battling my sinus and lung infections, taking stronger drugs every day that make me extremely dopey and happy and depressed all at once.  Still beats the world of employment, where authority means you're always right and never have to say you're sorry.