Super flight, great friends, good food and beer

I could have flown round trip to the U.S. for about $1,000 with Air China. But after three difficult experiences with the Chinese airline, particularly in Beijing, I chose to spend $1,400 for a round-trip ticket on ANA, a Japanese airline. The costly trip to the U.S. was flawless, smooth, and almost relaxing. It's a 24-hour trip with about 19 hours in the air; the transfer at Tokyo's Narita Airport was easy, peasy, Japanese-y.  No long lines, no shoving or pushing, and quiet, professional staffers. I paid for a hassle-free flight to the U.S. and I got what I paid for. I watched five movies on the nearly 13-hour journey from Tokyo to Washington, D.C.: Bohemian Rhapsody (biopic of Queen's Freddie Mercury); The Mule (elderly Clint Eastwood runs drugs); Vice (Dick Cheney biopic); Cold Pursuit (Liam Neeson kills to avenge son's murder); and Venom (weird Marvel Comics movie). They were all OK except Cold Pursuit, but none will make my top 5. Vice intrigued me the most. The trip back to Vietnam will be a little longer because of winds, but I'm hopeful for another good experience.

* * *

Initially, I stayed with friend Ron in Elkton, Md., and looked at a house in his neighborhood. It's a beautiful place in a nice location, but requires quite a bit of work that wouldn't be cheap, possibly $40,000 to $50,000. Looking at houses is always fun for me, and I enjoy imagining the potential and what life would be like there. I have a house in Yellow Springs, Ohio, which is a wonderful little village, but it's wise to keep options open, I guess. I went to visit friend Andy in north Wilmington, Del., and stayed at his (and his wife Jane's) house. I couldn't ask for better or more generous friends than Ron, Andy and Jane, or John S., whom I'll visit next week in Ohio. I'm hoping to hook up with my children in Ohio and New Jersey. And I've got the annual eye doctor visit, and lunch with my lawyer in Cleveland, coming up.  Friend Tommy visited twice when I stayed at Ron's house, but I was so tired that we didn't chat as much as I would have liked. Hopefully, we'll catch up next time when my wife Phuong and daughter Joanna are here with me ... if Phuong can get a visa. We may find out about the visa before the end of the year.

* * *

We're not real far from the ocean in Elkton and Wilmington, and there's lots of bays and rivers in the area. This means seafood is plentiful and generally of higher quality. Crab soup and salmon have already been on my menu. And since I dig the pig and chicken, there's my local favorite, scrapple -- and I cooked and ate nearly an entire one-pound brick at Ron's. The craft beer scene in the U.S. is over the top, and there seems to be a local brewery on nearly every corner. Even Elkton has a couple of craft beer bars with tons of local brews in bottles and on tap. Life suits me better here than in Vietnam, where I'll always be considered an outsider and curiosity. And the weather is more comfortable in the U.S. The Vietnamese are wonderful (e.g. Phuong), but my daughter is an American citizen and belongs in the U.S. with MOM and dad. I know I've beaten this horse to death, but we really need a change for our daughter's sake.

* * *

Of course, I miss my wife and daughter terribly. Joanna tries to kiss me through Skype, and she has such a wonderful and devilish smile. She was quite sick when I left, but she's gotten better. Phuong gets sick for about seven hours and recovers well. Drives me crazy. I'm still coughing and fighting jet lag, but my skin cleared up instantly in the U.S. and I'm confident I'll be back at full strength in time to return to the dirty air and heat in Vietnam, and get sick again courtesy of the little angels that come to our house for daycare.

Keep sick kids home; neighbors don't help; Joanna turns 3

A few people have commented lately that I look a little pale. Well, I am the White Monkey, but I am also sick again with a vicious cough and thumping sinus headache. Filthy air, lack of sleep, and constant stress no doubt contribute to my repeated illnesses, but as I've noted, lots of other people I know are having the same health problems. But the real culprits for me are the kids who come to our house for daycare. One of the little girls had this disgusting green river running from her nose for two weeks. Her parents finally kept her home this past week when she got a fever. Other kids have been sitting in the middle of the floor crying, when they're not sleeping, because they don't "feel well."
Some of the parents sell stuff online and really hustle, and money is apparently a real motivator for them. A couple of kids are being dropped off before 7:30 a.m. so there really is no rest for the weary.  That means when I start to recover, the cycle of sickness returns to our house in the form of the little angels. My mentor teacher Laurie once chastised me for coming to school to student-teach when I was sick. She chastised me for a lot of stuff that I didn't understand at the time; now I understand and respect her even more for the lessons she taught me -- Laurie is a real gem. Anyway, when ego, or money or other selfish motives cause us to act in an irresponsible way, others often suffer the consequences. My wife and daughter have been sick as well. Since I'm the old fart of the bunch, I tend to be the sickest. When you're dealing with little kids, sickness is a fact of life. A 20-month will cough in your face and sneeze on other kids' food. And hygiene in this country isn't exemplary. Phuong is working incredibly hard to teach these kids proper manners, hygiene, and respect. Sharing was a foreign concept. Disrespect and hitting were somewhat routine. Phuong is doing God's work. Me? I stay out of the way and try not to let the little angels be too rude, angry or overly aggressive. And out of respect for my mom, who died 13 years ago, I insist on sharing. I think Phuong is doing an amazing job in every respect. Next, we'll have to teach the parents to keep their kids home when the kids are really sick so they don't spread the wealth, so to speak. I know it's daycare and the parents need help taking care of their kids, but it doesn't help when the caretakers are sick as well. My wise friend Richard and I discussed on Skype how people who are motivated by money lack a quality of character and have an emptiness in their lives ... even if their bank accounts are full.

* * *

While I'm on the topic of money, I needed to withdraw cash from an ATM at Vietcombank on Friday. I put the card in, waited, and the card came out and the money would eventually follow.  I was so busy making sure my card went back in my wallet that I nearly forgot to grab my money.  A woman pointed to the cash, I thanked her, but when I went to grab the money, it was sucked back into the machine with a message that my funds had been "purged". The bank wouldn't give me my the money, of course, without a passport, and I told them I would go home and get it. Then they said no, they would deposit the money in my account "if we have money at the end of the day." A day later and no money (we're talking about $90 U.S. dollars, which isn't chump change to this chimp). The bank girl's English wasn't very good. She looked at my US Bank card and said I didn't get my money because the stripe on the back was dirty. Well, sweetheart, the US Bank card worked, as it has hundreds of times at this same bank, and the money came out, but the machine "purged" it before I could grab it. I accept my share of the blame for being slow to grab the money, but I won't tolerate getting a lecture from some nimrod who can't speak my language well enough to know what she's talking about, doesn't have the facts, and is flat out wrong.

* * *

Our daycare kids were swimming on the third floor of our house when an inflatable life preserver went over the rail (courtesy of me showing off)  and onto the street below. I looked down and saw three neighbors sitting outside their houses and some random people at my sister-in-law's store not too far from the toy. The three neighbors obviously saw the toy because they watch everything we do. All three, and I swear this is true, immediately went into their houses. The random people were random and didn't care. A car and some motorbikes rode by and had the decency not to run over the life preserver. I was hoping the neighbors or random people would just throw the life preserver on our front step so it wouldn't get run over. Hope is for losers -- John the loser walked down the stairs and retrieved the life preserver from the street. 

* * *

Not all the news is grim: Joanna turned 3 years old recently and had a wonderful celebration. Two other kids from our daycare had birthdays -- one turned 4 and one turned 3, and we had a group party with cake. Fantastic. We also had a private party for Joanna and she got shoes and toys and such. I gave her four clay chickens and a clay duck along with a clay drinking cup with fish painted on it. I'm thrilled to say Joanna loves the clay birds and plays with them constantly. She's dropped and chipped them a few times, but dad uses glue and water colors to make repairs.

* * *

We need to send in one translated document and our visa application for Phuong is complete. When all  the forms are in, we'll await word on the interview. I'm leaving for the U.S. on Tuesday -- a short stay this time because of a cash shortage -- Vietcombank isn't helping.

No car seat; friend in accident; sleep is a luxury

One of the children in our daycare group showed up last week with a really nasty looking black eye. This little girl is pretty wild so I assumed she fell, or maybe got whacked by a sibling because it's not uncommon for her to simply yank toys away from other kids. Actually, the girl was a passenger in her parents' car, which made a sudden stop to avoid hitting a pedestrian. She was thrown forward and hit something with her face, most likely the dashboard. I didn't get the details other than the fact that this 20-month wasn't in a car seat. But that's the norm here. Kids don't wear helmets on motorbikes (I've been told they're more at risk for a broken neck with a helmet on, so helmets are not required for children). I'm pretty sure there's no requirement for a car seat, either, since I think I've seen about two or three car seats in the more than six years I've lived here. And the number of cars seems to be increasing daily.
Cars and SUVs don't yield here, regardless of typical right of way decorum. An SUV will pull out into traffic from a side street, for example, with no concern for the sea of motorbikes or smaller cars. They will honk their horns to announce the intrusion. But if a bigger vehicle like a truck is in the traffic flow, the SUV will be forced to yield because the truck will not give an inch, and it will also be honking its horn to warn the vehicles in its path that it will not yield. Size matters. There are no car seats in taxis, of course, so we always sit in the back, and I make Joanna sit in the middle in either Phuong's or my grasp. I know this isn't ideal, but since seat belts are passe here and rarely in working order, we do what we have to do. Besides, walking isn't a whole lot safer since no vehicle -- bicycle, motorbike, car, or truck -- will yield to a pedestrian. And vehicles can frequently be found riding on sidewalks. The buses are hot, dirty and complicated, so they're not an option.

* * *

On Sunday when we went to tennis, court manager and friend Tai came limping toward us. I know this is a stupid cliche, but his face really looked liked hamburger. Smothered in dry ketchup. His left eye was nearly swollen shut and the scrapes and road burn were gruesome. He told us he crashed his bike when another motorcyclist crossed the center line and nearly hit him. I'm pretty sure Tai was wearing a helmet, which is fortunate indeed. Hell, I had a helmet on in my first accident here and still banged my coconut and had bleeding on the brain, which I slept off for five days in a Bangkok hospital.

* * *

My two English students are doing quite well and they're enjoyable in class. One of the two ladies just got back from a trip to the United States with her family and was very happy with her improved English. She told me she understood most of what people were saying to her. When I go the U.S. in a few weeks I'll have to take her with me since I struggle to understand much of the English spoken in my country.
Speaking of students, I had coffee with former student Sam, the sexiest woman alive (according to some, including Sam). Sam is such a breath of fresh air here for me -- she's got a real positive energy and vibe. Sam works for some company now, and get this, she teaches English part-time. I'm so proud of Sam, and proud of the work I did with her to improve her English and boost her IELTS score. I guess the White Monkey gets to beat his chest on occasion, too.

* * *

Daycare remains a challenge for me, even though I sometimes love it. The kids arrive early, so we're up at 6 a.m. Monday through Friday. After I help put Joanna to bed, do chi, and share a beer with my wife, I'm going to sleep around midnight at the earliest (my wife is one of those people who takes 3-minute naps throughout the day; she can sleep standing up). That means I'm a tired and sometimes cranky White Monkey. It happens to the best and worst of us. Throw in the horrible heat and humidity, and bed of nails we sleep on, it's no wonder I've learned to snarl and smile at the same time (Smarl? Snile?). Joanna contributes to the dilemma. She's cute, charming, bright, stubborn and occasionally cranky. She demands I carry her much of the day, but past motorbike accidents have come back to haunt my back in the form of sciatica pain, especially in the morning. I'm fine if don't lift anything heavy in the morning, but Joanna is heavy morning, noon, and night. None of this has affected my tennis, however, as I've reclaimed No. 1 in the household and dominated my lovely wife the past couple of weeks. I'm aging like a fine whine.

Daycare parents finicky about food; visa bid progressing

The parents of our daycare kids are real finicky about what we feed their children.  Too finicky, in my opinion, but it's really none of my business. I'm just an observer to stuff like that. The parents don't want their kids eating cheese or snacks. They're the customer and Phuong is the boss, so I do what I'm told. But before I was told, the kids gathered around me like I was Jesus giving a sermon on the mount when I had cheese and potato chips for a snack one afternoon. I didn't do this daily, but it was kind of a once or twice a week treat for the kids. I still give the toxic treats to Joanna, and I'll sneak her some chocolate as well. I've read that cheese can cause constipation, so I'll limit the portions and frequency for Joanna. The parents haven't complained about peanut butter yet, but they're probably not too familiar with it. I put a big tablespoon of peanut butter on a plate with apples in the morning (no more small pieces of cheese), along with cinnamon-sugar toast with butter, and honey oats cereal. The parents often get the kids some kind of noodle soup, such as Pho, Hu Tieu, even Bun Bo Hue (without blood pudding) for breakfast. Then there's rice and noodles with chicken or some pork for lunch. I have no idea what they have for dinner, but I'm almost certain that rice and/or noodles are on the menu. Again, none of my business. I mention some of this because our daughter was having some constipation issues and I demanded Phuong stop feeding her noodles and rice twice a day (and Phuong demanded I stopped giving Joanna so much cheese). I give Joanna a lunch of oatmeal with brown sugar and cinnamon and raisins, and sometimes fresh blueberries and jarred peaches. Since I started this about a month ago, all of Joanna's systems are "go" on a clockwork basis. Sorry to talk about poop so much, but that's what parents of little kids do. Or have to do, really.

* * *

The daycare mom who had an issue with her liver is back home from the hospital, sans surgery, and on medication to treat her problem. I'll respect her privacy and provide no more details, but suffice it to say everyone is very pleased.

* * *

Joanna and I are bonding even more these days, and now she knows the words to songs by The Beatles, Felix Pappalardi and Creation, and Youth Lagoon. We listen to this music and dance; it puts Joanna to sleep each day around 1:30 p.m. for about an hour. This little nap serves as a respite for me when I can take care of odds and ends like finishing my blog, putting away laundry, preparing for my two English students, and waxing my Civil  War figurine collection.  Well, laundry, blog, class prep. Daycare is exhausting work, especially for a 64-year-old White Monkey. And Phuong does the heavy lifting.

* * *

We're putting the finishing touches on the DS-260 form and waiting for police records, which are both part of the formal application for Phuong to obtain a visa to come to the United States with her American husband (me) and American daughter (that would be Joanna). If she is rejected, I may drag Phuong and Joanna to Peru, where hopefully I could teach and dominate Phuong in tennis on clay courts. And that's a wonderful segue to my final bit of news: Despite some pain in my left foot from the plantar fascia injury, which has led to pain in my back that is wreaking havoc with my serve, I have courageously fought my way back to the No. 1 family tennis ranking over my sore-shouldered wife. Phuong and I suspect her shoulder is sore from constantly holding and carrying Joanna -- who's pretty heavy for a near-three-year-old -- rather than tennis. Even with my minor physical issues,  I have learned to trust the process.

Daycare mom in hospital; motorbike moron swerves around Joanna; coffee shop accuses me of not paying

The mom of two little girls in our daycare group has been admitted to a hospital in Ho Chi Minh City with an abscess in her liver. We don't have any information on the source or cause of the abscess, but doctors are considering surgery to remove the part of the liver that's been affected, according to the mom.  The mom, who is very bright, is also one of my English students. Obviously, we're quite upset by the news. The mom complained of stomach pain on Friday, and the pain became so severe that she went to the hospital. Tests revealed the abscess. This woman is only 31 years old and her mom passed away recently. I'm a proponent of second and third opinions from other doctors, especially when surgery is being strongly considered. I hope the situation can be handled with medicine rather than any kind of invasive procedure.

* * *

Our daycare kids circle me like buzzards when I try to eat something that they might also like. For example, my frozen chocolate milk in the morning is now a sensation with the kids. So is my frozen yogurt. I guess it's just as well since mooching kids keep me from getting as big as a house with all the food that I eat. But when it's the last yogurt, or last cookie or cupcake, well ... kids rule in our house so guess who gets the goods.

* * *

We walked to the park with our nine daycare kids last week, and Phuong bought this bungee cord type of thing with plastic rings that the children hold; it's designed to help keep the children together and walking in a straight line, more or less. Joanna let go of her ring and wandered into the street. Of course. some typical Bien Hoa lowlife roared up on his scooter at that moment and refused to slow down with Joanna in the street, instead dangerously swerving around her. I yelled at the classy individual to slow down, and he glared at me like he wanted to fight. This happens quite a bit here. Joanna must have sensed my anger and willingness to engage the quality human on the motorbike because she launched into a string of profanities that would have turned a sailor's ears red. I really have to be more careful of my language around her. Besides, I shouldn't get so upset at the scumbags on bikes here. But when they threaten my daughter ....
Most locals ignore the clowns although I've seen a few take exception. They're my heroes.

* * *

At the coffee shop I've been going to for the past six months or so, Nguyen Xuan Truong Coffee, I was accused of trying to leave without paying. In fact, I was outside headed home with headphones on when a waiter came running after me and grabbed my arm, hopefully because I didn't hear him call to me. He communicated that I didn't pay.  Actually, I paid a different waiter as soon as he delivered my coffee (pay as you go and you never owe) and gave him an 8,000 dong tip -- I used to give 10,000 until they raised their prices. Anyway, I went back inside with my accuser, found the other waiter who unenthusiastically and unapologetically agreed that I had paid. I was pissed and told the clown that chased me outside that I don't need to steal a 42,000-dong, watered-down, lukewarm, mediocre-at-best cappuccino and that I had enough money to buy this dump of a coffee shop. That's probably not true, but like I said, I was pissed. Besides, I've been told that foreigners can't own property in Vietnam. Coffee shops are off my list of places to go since most don't understand me when I try to order a cup of coffee, or they think I'm a thief, or the other customers try to cut in line and then stare at me like I'm some kind of White Monkey.

No power; still sick; Joanna and I bond like super glue

We lost power, in every sense of the word, when our electricity was shut off from 8 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. one day last week. Our eight daycare kids got to enjoy our house on a sunny, typically humid, 100-degree day with no air conditioning, a minimum amount of ice, and no functioning fridge for cold drinks. Swimming became the activity of the day, and we let the children stay in the pool as long as they wanted. I went into the kiddie pool as well. There was no napping after a nice, hot lunch of nice, hot soup because there was no air conditioning in our nice, hot nap/play/music/class area.  It was 90 in the house and felt warmer with the kids romping around. I went through four T-shirts, took four showers on the day, and Phuong and I went to bed completely wiped out. I woke up with some weird skin rash on my chest. My poor wife, who does most of the work with the kids, got a rash on her shoulder that required a quick trip to the skin doctor. The kids seemed OK with the heat, and most of them enjoyed the hot soup that is served everywhere all the time. I don't get it, but there are so many things in this world I don't understand.

* * *

I can't shake the flu, cough, sinus mess or whatever that I contracted more than a month ago. Just when I start to feel better, I'll wake up with a sore throat and phlegm in my chest. I've considered the possibility of allergies. There's stuff floating around in the air here beyond my comprehension. I'm very much looking forward to my trip back to the U.S. this year for eye care so I can breathe some clean air again. Yeah, I know that pollution is a fact of life everywhere but it's got a little more juice here since the country is going through something of an industrial revolution in conjunction with its economic development, and it has an increased amount of cars, trucks, motorbikes, people, and people burning trash for religious reasons. Also, the daycare job is a 7:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. gig, so Phuong and I are a little sleep deprived. The trip to the U.S. is looking sweeter and sweeter.

* * *

Phuong's daycare business means Joanna and I are together constantly. We'll dance to "Good Night" by The Beatles and  "Green Rocky Road" by Felix Poppalardi and Creation before naps and bedtime. We'll wake up to "Good Morning Good Morning" by The Beatles. At night, we go "outside" together on our second- and third-floor balconies and look at the neighbor's rats slithering up and down his piles of trash; we'll watch airplanes coming from and going to HCMC; we'll point out the few visible stars and very visible moon in the sky.  Also, Joanna has a remarkable eye: She can spot geckos on black walls at night, and centipedes on the our balconies' floors. And she can see rats like nobody's business -- at the neighbor's, the park, in the streets. I read a minimum of  three stories a day to her, but our library is limited and she has the books memorized. Really. We watch Storybook Nanny videos together, Sesame Street and Dream English with Matt.  The weather and dirty air make going outside difficult at times, but we'll walk to The Coffee House and get a pastry and cappuccino. A lot of people in town know Joanna and seem to take notice of her because she doesn't look like the other kids. Most people are exceptionally nice to her.  I truly believe Joanna belongs in the United States, especially Yellow Springs. She can't believe Jack and his mother cut down the "tree" to kill the giant in Jack and the Beanstalk. "What happened to the tree?" she asks incredulously every time we watch the video. She still talks about the big bug I saved -- it was stuck on its back and being eaten alive by ants on our balcony. Joanna watched in fascination before I flipped it over; it flew away. "Daddy saved the big bug." Maybe I intervened in nature's way and this might not go over real big in Yellow Springs, but a man's gotta do what he thinks is right for his child.

* * *

No word yet on Phuong's interview at the embassy to get a U.S. visa. Our lawyers are double-checking the application and Phuong is obtaining her police records. I expect something might happen in a few months.

* * *

A former high school acquaintance and teammate of mine, Joe Miller, died at the age of 64. I played football and baseball with Miller, and he was a very good athlete. He was awesome in baseball -- had a tremendous arm and amazing pop in his bat. He could run like a deer. Joe was a natural. The thing I liked about Miller was that he wasn't any BS, if you know what I mean. Joe was a straight shooter and didn't get involved in the usual high school crap and locker room nonsense. RIP Joe. I did see Miller wallop a double off the wall about 330 feet away against Rick Widdoes, my wrestling partner/coach/nemesis, who was something of local pitching legend in Delaware. Widdoes recently died.

Eating red ants; giving our daycare kids real American food

Phuong has introduced me to some interesting Vietnamese cuisine lately, most notably a red ant and shredded beef mixture that's a tasty, salty, spicy, crunchy and sour treat. Red ants are served in Thailand, but this particular recipe comes from the central and northern highlands of Vietnam, somewhere north of Da Lat. I'm not a big bug eater, but Phuong insisted I try it. It gets a thumbs-up. The picture doesn't do this concoction justice, but the red ants are clearly visible, not pureed and masked within the shredded beef. The slightly sour taste is most notable and comes from a liquid secreted by the ants when they're threatened, or so I'm told. I guess nothing is quite as threatening as being cooked alive. The beef can be a little chewy, like all beef in Vietnam -- many families use little hammers to pound some tenderness into the beef.  I won't use meat tenderizer, so I like this method if the beef is extremely tough. This food is called KrongPa Gia Lai beef and it's great with beer. But beer seems to work with all food; Phuong and I try anything with our nightly beer; chocolate is a favorite. KrongPa Gia Lai's ingredients are beef, red ants, salt and red chili peppers. One of our daycare moms, An, gave us a sample and now we're hooked. But I consider this more of an occasional treat than a nightly "go-to" snack. For the day-in, day-out eating with beer, I prefer a dried, shredded chicken, lemon and chili pepper mix called kho ga la chanh. The folks at the Craft Beer bar around the corner gave me some when I bought some Estrella Damm beer. Daycare mom An sells us bulk portions of the shredded chicken. Everybody sells stuff on the side in Vietnam, my wife included. I guess I sell English on the side. Anyway, the chicken mix is very spicy and the red peppers are visible and super hot. Joanna calls the snack "Cay Cay" (spicy hot spicy hot) and she'll eat the dried, shredded chicken but avoid the chili peppers. Ice water is kept nearby. This dish keeps the plumbing flowing.

* * *

Including Joanna, we now care for eight children daily at our house, and a ninth is coming soon. In addition to speaking English to the kids (this is the only language I can speak, by the way), I try to get the kids to sample some U.S. food, or at least food from my youth. Buttered toast with sugar and cinnamon is a favorite with the kids. Apples with peanut butter is starting to catch on. Scrambled eggs with cheese is becoming popular. Peanut butter and jelly has flopped. In fact, most of the kids don't like sandwich bread. We'll have cheese, which they enjoy but their parents don't eat, and I make milkshakes, which are now requested by the kids. Phuong and I share cooking duties, but I've slacked off the past week after a relapse of the flu. I don't know if it's genetics or conditioning, but kids and everyone else in this country love hot soup, noodles and rice for breakfast (lunch and dinner, also). When it's 86 degrees Fahrenheit at 7:30 a.m., I can't eat hot soup. I'll have soup once in a while here, but I don't enjoy it because of the heat. I don't care much for the very popular hot pot dishes either, mostly because of the weather but also because of their generic taste.

* * *

No word yet on Phuong's interview, although the government has informed us they've created a "case" for Phuong. They're processing the $475 application fee and after that happens our lawyer will send in some paperwork and hopefully we'll get a date for the interview.

* * *

Rainy season is here, although it seems a bit early to me. Locals don't seem to care when the rains come. They just seem to be real concerned about being out in the rain. Maybe they know the score: I'll walk in the rain if I have to, and I've been very ill twice in the past three weeks. I think it's the daycare kids bringing in viruses and me not getting enough sleep that are the real contributors to my poor health. But locals say, "You don't understand. It's the rain."  It's difficult to argue when you can't breathe through your nose, your chest hurts, and you're sitting on the throne  much of the day.