Cliffnotes (Or: The Longest Post Ever)

So October has come and gone, and November, AND December, and it has now been over three months since I have written anything substantial in this blog – my utmost apologies. I hope the chili fiasco sustained you. In true procrastinator’s fashion, I have sat down to my computer often over the past weeks, stared at a blank Word document faced with sheer enormity of the amount of “catching up” ahead of me, and decided “What’s one more day?”

Alas, here I am – sitting in the Hong Kong airport, a little over an hour to go until I board the plane to Bangkok and embark on Part II of my Amasian Adventure – finally gittin’ her did. Some old habits die hard. And here are the cliff notes of the past 3 months of my life…

OCTOBER. (Or, From Island Paradise to a Case of the Mondays)

The month began with a wonderful trip to Phu Quoc, a tear-shaped island about 200 ks off the western coast of Vietnam, and probably the most earth-shatteringly beautiful place I have ever been. I cannot do this one justice, but this picture pretty much sums up all that I would want to say:



In addition to pristine sand beaches and clear blue waters, part of Phu Quoc’s charm lay in its remoteness. There is about a mile-long strip of little tourist bungalows, restaurants, and resorts, but beyond that, the island retains the feel of the Delta countryside – barefoot kids running around, lawn-chair coffee shops, and old men napping in the sun. We had the chance to rent motorbikes and drive all around the island (Alice was brave enough to drive one, I just rode on the back) and I couldn’t help but think how lucky I was to get to see this place NOW, before it is invaded by the SE Asia-bound hordes. Because I have a feeling that will happen in the very near future…

But hands down the best thing about Phu Quoc is how you get there – on a hydrofoil affectionately (and officially, I kid you not) known as the Superdong. Needless to say, the jokes abound. I’m so glad that all of the dirty humor I learned from those scallywags Jorge and Micol has really come in handy over here.

October went a bit downhill from there. I returned from Phu Quoc to a very busy few weeks of teaching – between illness and traveling, I had missed about a week of classes that I had to make up over the course of three Sundays. There is a reason why Sunday should be the day of rest.

Around this time I also ran into a bit of Stage Two-ism – a factor of culture shock that I never really got to experience during my time in RSA. They say – and I’ve heard this theory collaborated from other friends spending time abroad – that a few months in, the initial euphoria of the ex-pat life wears off, and cultural disillusionment begins to take its place. The adorable kids screaming hello at you in the street become less adorable and more screaming. The constant sweating and mosquito bites and clamminess of your skin becomes unbearable. You’re tired of being misunderstood, you tired of standing out, you can’t handle the constant demands of your students to practice English.

In short, the ins and outs of daily life begin to lose their luster a bit as they become your reality. This is no longer a funny little stint you’re pulling for a few weeks – this is the real McCoy, the whole shebang, the full monty, the works…you get the point.

In retrospect, I think I also naively believed that going to Viet Nam would purge me of any remaining sadness at leaving Princeton. I would be doing something so different and interesting that I just wouldn’t think of what I’d left behind. Part of my Stage Two-ism involved realizing that this was ERRONEOUS, so erroneous. Duh. Yes, I am not reminded of my former life as often on a daily basis as I might otherwise be. But still – not a day goes by when I am not moved to think of people and places at home – and I guess that’s ultimately fine by me. A life that I didn’t miss wouldn’t have been much of a life at all!

Anyways, no need to be alarmed – there were a few rougher weeks in there, but luckily October soon turned into…

NOVEMBER. (Or, Five Reasons Why November is Better Than October)

1. The Mothership Lands.

To kick November off, we received a lovely if rushed visit from not one, not two, but three of our bosses from Princeton in Asia – Anastasia, Leslie, and board member Margaret. In less than 24 hours, they managed to observe us teaching, visit one of the orphanages for a Game Night, keep up those good relationships with the University and scarf down as much Vietnamese food as humanly possible. All in all, a valiant effort. And also fun to have visitors – made me realize how much of a life I’d built for myself over the past few months.

2. Oh Boy, Oh-Bama!

I foolishly waited until a week before to send in my absentee ballot and ended up paying an arm and a leg to do send it via express mail. Upon asking if it were possible to be notified when it was received, I was told “maybe you call your friend” to see if he got it. Right.

At the risk of alienating some of the Virginia set, I’m going to go ahead and say that I was pleased with the results of our national election, although sad that the SNL Sarah Palin spoof phase came to an end.

But partisan politics aside, a few thoughts on Election Day – it was very bizarre to be in a part of Viet Nam where people frankly aren’t all that concerned with American politics. For example, I asked my freshman pronunciation class if they could tell me what important event had just happened in America. Most of them responded enthusiastically, “Halloween!” Fortunately, I did get to watch Obama’s acceptance speech (and McCain’s concession) on the BBC World News channel. And I wept. Of course, he’s a pretty great orator – but more moving than that were the expressions on peoples’ faces. Never in my life have I seen Americans that excited about politics, that hopeful about the future, that inspired – it was a sight to behold, for sure. I just hope that he lives up to everyone’s expectations.

3. My Own Personal Mecca.

What venue combines crazy Euro-dance moves, blasting techno, and the best of Asian enthusiasm? That’s right, our local Vietnamese dance club, Xe Loi. This was one of the more amazing experiences of my life, probably, and took the definition of DP (dance party) to a whole new level. We went one Friday night early in November for Sam’s birthday and enjoyed 3 straight hours of an intense dance floor. And by intense I mean that if (God forbid) you ever stop moving your hips or waving your arms or smiling maniacally, you are instantly surrounded by a mob of Vietnamese youth helping you along. Further proof that Vietnamese people can’t dance. But I’ll be damned if they don’t keep on trying.

4. Teacher Appreciation.

On November 20, I came into my office only to be welcomed by a barrage of flowers, cards, and gifts to wish me a happy Vietnamese Teacher’s Day. The outpouring of generosity that surrounds this national holiday is just another example of one of my favorite things about Vietnamese culture – unbelievable thoughtfulness. Gifts so carefully wrapped, cards so neatly penned – one of my students even hand-made me a beaded cell phone case (quite Asia-fab, if I do say so myself). My freshman class threw me a Teacher’s Day party in which they had a flower-arranging competition and then explained how each arrangement conveyed the student’s appreciation of the teacher’s wisdom and guidance. This kind of consideration is just humbling, and makes me think about all the ways in which I could be a more considerate person myself!

5. Finals and Travel Time.

After the few weeks in October when I spent so much time teaching I never wanted to see the inside of a classroom again, things eased up when finals came. Writing and grading a final exam turned into quite an adventure in which I learned that just because you graduate doesn’t mean you can’t procrastinate! But I got through it by the skin of my teeth, as per usual, just in time to head off on what I thought was going to be three weeks of traveling through Laos and Thailand, ten days in each country. More on that below.

It’s ironic how it sometimes takes saying goodbye to a place for you to realize how much it means to you…but I kept having a lot of these moments over the last few weeks in Can Tho. The night of my last exam I went on a little excursion with some students – we played games and ate a fondue-type thing at a crazy Japanese coffee shop with Animé characters all over the walls, we rode the world’s shortest rollercoaster while screaming at the top of our lungs, and then we sang karaoke for almost two hours straight (our repetoire that included Tina Turner, Michael Jackson, SClub7, Celine Dion, U2 and Britney Spears)(again screaming at the top of our lungs, it was exhausting!). The evening was ridiculous and bizarre, completely unlike anything I’ve ever done with friends in America, and I felt about 5 years old. But I also had more fun than I’ve had all fall. Maybe that’s a sad statement on my social life, maybe that a salute to my students’ unbridled enthusiasm, I don’t know. But for a while I actually forgot that I was giant blonde white girl living in Viet Nam, and just felt like one of them. It was pretty cool.

On November 22, Alice, Frank and I headed up to Saigon for a night of backpacker district fun and then flew out the next day to Vientiane, Laos, which brings us to…

DECEMBER. (Or, Laotian Adventures)

Stop 1: Vientiane

Here we visited two other PiA fellows – Julie McWilliams, who teaches at Vientiane College, and Elena Olivi, who has worked for Population Services International in Laos for the past 18 months or so. They were wonderful hosts, taking so much time away from their daily lives to show us the good sites and take us to all of their favorite restaurants. I also have decided that I much prefer to visit people – that way you’re not just doing the normal tourist gig but you actually get a bit more of the local flavah.

We had five or so days of stuffing our faces with French pastries, curry, and sticky rice, biking around town to various beautiful wats and monuments, and ending each evening with sunset Beer Laos overlooking the Mekong River. It was a sweet, sweet life in Vientiane.

Stop 2: Vang Vieng

This is a town about 3-4 hours north of Vientiane by bus that exists purely for Euro-backpackers to come and get wasted amid gorgeous scenery. After hearing a lot about it, we wanted to see what all the rage was about but unfortunately were left a bit disappointed. The main event involves renting intertubes for the day and drifting from riverfront bar to riverfront bar down the Mekong. Sort of like Cancun, but in SE Asia. Or maybe Woodstock. While Alice and Frank and I enjoyed a few cocktails, we found the whole scene a bit seedy. Some people stay there for weeks and do the same thing every day. It’s definitely a fun one-time experience, and the town is beautiful, but…come on. Plus I don’t think the local population finds the debauchery all that amusing. I haven’t been around that many people who were just absolutely bombed out of their mind in awhile.

On a lighter note, I made it my mission to document the most ridiculous people I saw, which has made for some entertaining footage as you can see below:



Stop 3: Luang Prabang

After a harrowing nine-hour bus ride through the mountains, we arrived in beautiful Luang Prabang on Sunday the 30th. The town itself is situated in a V formed by two rivers – the Mekong and another which I do not remember right now – surrounded by mountains and it is absolutely beautiful. You can see all of this from the vantage point of Phu Si hill in the middle of the city, which is cool to climb at sunset. There are also all sorts of opportunities for exploring the area around the city – visits to waterfalls, caving, elephant riding and trekking around the hill-tribe villages. In the city itself, there are dozens of interesting restaurants and a quite impressive night market.

My only regret with Luang Prabang was that by the time we arrived I was a bit travel-weary and disillusioned with the whole tourism industry after Vang Vieng, not to mention stressed out about the Bangkok airport closings because of which we ended up having to reroute our flights home. I feel like I would have enjoyed it more otherwise…

On the whole, Laos was a wonderful place to visit – very different from Viet Nam but also very cool in its own right. I could have more to say on this but I just had a sixteen-hour flight from New York to Hong Kong and I am a bit fatigued.

Though I was supremely disappointed that our Thailand adventure plans were foiled by the damn protests, the silver lining in the cloud was that I inadvertently got more time at home with the family. When we couln’t go into Thailand, Alice and I both decided that it would probably be a better idea to just move up our flights home instead of bumming around Viet Nam and spending more money. So we flew out to Hanoi from Luang Prabang on the 3rd of December and were both home by Friday the 5th. I managed to pack a lot of visiting with family and friends into those three weeks, and fortunately a lot of people were in town, so I’m very grateful for that.

And now it’s back to Asia to make the most of the next 5-6 months. In a few hours I’ll be meeting up with people for New Years in Bangkok, and then Alice and I will be back in Can Tho next Sunday to start teaching next Monday. Whew – what a whirlwind. Happy New Year everyone!

Hapless Hot Mess

Be forewarned: this is a completely insignificant post. But in the past 24 hours I have proven to be more of a helpless, hapless handful than I thought was possible, even for me, and I can't help but be a little amused at myself. Thank God I have Alice here to supervise.

Number 1. Last night, after a long, leisurely dinner with Alice, Sam and Thi Bay, I decided to attempt to make my own chili salt. Here in Vietnam it is common to eat fruit dipped in this delicious concoction - sounds bizarre but it is SO good. A lot of times you get a little packet when you buy fruit, but we had none on hand. Thinking the recipe to be pretty self-explanatory, I got after it. In my cooking naïveté I failed to realize that chilis can burn your skin as well as your mouth (duh). I don't know what I did while I was chopping them. Rubbed my hands all over my face and arms maybe? Because a mere five minutes later my hands and everything from the neck up was on fire. I tried everything you would normally do to stop the burning of spicy food - rubbed bread on my nose, soaked my nose in a glass of milk, Alice even suggested putting butter on it - nothing worked. So for the remainder of dinner I sat there holding huge ice cubes up to my face until it went numb. It was quite the picture. My hands and lips are still stinging a little today.

Number 2. This morning I made a complete fool of myself playing tennis with my friend Duy. Never again will I doubt the athletic prowess of the Vietnamese. In I marched, looking quite the part of the sporty American chick, ready to dominate. An hour later, I had lost 3 sets in only 18 games. I think I maybe won a total of 5 points. (Un)Fortunately for me, my tennis partner happens to be the only person I've met thus far in Vietnam who has mastered the art of sarcasm. "Julia, do you like the fence? Do you like the net?" Ha. Ha. Ha. Duy did ask me to be his doubles partner in an upcoming tournament. "It is a tournament for teachers. Lots of bad players, so, you can be my partner, yes?" Thanks, so flattered!

Number 3. This is the second time in a row this week that I have remembered that I need to take my malaria medicine, gotten out the bottle of pills, filled up a glass of water, continued eating lunch...and then come back 5 minutes later wondering whether or not I actually took the pill. Short term memory loss - it's a doozy. So today I counted my pills and figured out I accidentally double-dosed. Freaking out I debated between trying to make myself throw up and calling my dad in the middle of the night for his expert medical advice. I opted for the latter, and he reassured me I would be fine. Still unconvinced (because he was half-asleep when I talked to him), I wouldn't rest until Alice had verified this on several different medical websites. I'm happy to say that I have now survived an hour and a half beyond this unfortunate incident, so things are looking good...

I guess you win some days, you lose some days. Gold stars to Garabrant for putting up with my silliness. If it weren't for her I'd probably be curled up in the fetus position right now, clutching my chili-burnt face and bemoaning my doxycycline "overdose." Chao for now.

One Monkey, Three Massages, and Tons of Mangoes on the Cheap…

Before the events of last weekend fade into distant memories in the whirlwind that has become life in Vietnam, they need to be mentioned in all their gloriousness.

To start it all off, we had a little visitor in our front yard. Yep, that’s right, a monkey. We’re not sure where he came from – there’s the possibility that he’s a pet of one of our Vietnamese neighbors. Either way, he showed up in our yard just as Sam and I were biking home from class. Which was super cute and all…until he pounced. We ran shrieking into our house and stayed there through lunch, images of Outbreak running through our heads. Our friend An, who is incidentally not much bigger than the monkey itself, was brave enough to chase it away for us, narrowly missing a nip on the leg from the little bugger.

Amusing happening number two of the week occurred when on Friday afternoon, after a long week of teaching, Alice, Sam and I decided to try getting massages. After negotiating the price in botched Venglish/Vietnamese, we were led upstairs to a tiny little changing room (where we were told to strip down and grab a towel) and then a dimly lit room with three tables and three masseuses. Sam has had some massage experience back in the States, but this being the first time for both Alice and I, most of what we know about massages comes from watching Phoebe on Friends. I don’t know what we expecting exactly, but both being pretty steeped in “Puritanical” American standards of public modesty, we erupted into nervous giggles when the masseuses climbed up on our backsides and pulled down those towels. Hello world, yes, that would be my @$$! Of course this made Sam laugh hysterically as well. Which in turn made the three Vietnamese girls catch the infectious giggles – apparently not all of their clients find massages so hilarious. This went on for about half an hour, until we calmed down enough for them to give us impromptu lessons in what I’m pretty sure was cursing in Vietnamese. To top it all off, Frank called us in the middle of this giggle-fest, wondering where we were to let him into our house and very confused as to why we found his phone call hilarious.

By far one of the highlights of the weekend was a trip to Cai Rang, the famous floating market just outside the city, with a group of my students on Saturday morning. I had talked to a few of the members of my Thursday afternoon class (by far my favorite, sorry, but it’s true!) about wanting to see the market the “Vietnamese” way – traveling there by bicycle and then renting a boat from a local instead of taking an organized tour. One of my students, whom we shall call “Tom the Tour Guide” said he could probably swing that, just for me. This was the first week that I had gotten enough sleep to bear the thought of getting up at 4:45 on a Saturday, so we made the plan.

Alice, Frank and I met up with three of my students bright and early the next morning. Though we were running on just four hours of sleep (thanks to a farewell party for our German friend the night before) the trip definitely proved well worth the agony of the early morning. We were able to convince a local man to take us out on the water just in time to watch a magnificent sunrise, and wove our way through boat after boat of fresh produce. Personal highlights of the trip for me included stopping at a grab-n-go coffee boat (a boat-thru, I guess?) and buying as much fruit as we could bicycle home (Mangoes! Mangoes! Mangoes!) for cheaper than cheap. The morning finished off with a delicious breakfast of hu tieu (vegetarian noodle soup), and we were even done in time for a late morning nap. I also enjoyed getting to know my three students a little better outside the constraints of the classroom. The mood of the morning was pretty relaxed – we joked around, raced on our bikes, etc – and I felt like a student again myself. Tom the Tour-Guide has offered to take me to his home province, An Giang, soon, and I’m looking forward to another spectacular tour!

On to amusing happening number four, by far the best. Earlier in the week, Sam had informed me that our dear friend Mr. Ly has recommended us to be the main attraction at the English Department’s opening ceremony on Saturday night. What was this to entail exactly? Dancing. We were to choreograph a short dance, perform it in front of the whole department, and then choose ten students from the crowd to compete in a dancing contest that we were to judge. Now Sam used to be a ballerina, but how exactly was I qualified to do this? Apparently because I am such an enthusiastic “recreational” dancer. Ha! I could have killed Mr. Ly.

On Saturday afternoon Sam and I met to choreograph our little dance. In keeping with the general theme of ridiculousness, we settled on Britney Spears “Gimme More” as the most appropriate song selection. I must say I was pretty pleased with the result of our efforts – we managed to incorporate the sprinkler, the awkward shoulder dance (a shout-out to the Paine twins for that one), the moonwalk, a lot of hip-shaking and even a corny high-five into our little number, all in the span of about a minute. It was all I could do to keep from bursting out laughing on stage, but the students LOVED it. They went nuts, and now I’m pretty sure they think Samantha and I are professional dancers. I’d like to say that this is because of my mad DP skillzzz, but I’m pretty sure it has more to do with the relative comparison – as my good friend Duy commented, “When I see Americans dance, I think that Vietnamese people maybe do not dance so well.” Nuff said.

But by far the best part of the evening was the dance contest. Just picture this: me as MC, Sam as model dancer, and ten Vietnamese students gettin’ down on stage with the sprinkler and the awkward shoulder dance, all to the tune of “Hooo-ah, ha ha ha, hooo-ah, ha ha ha.” Actually, don’t picture it – watch the video I uploaded (copyright Alice S. Garabrant). In the words of Frank, “the guy in the blue is really killing it.”




I’m starting to think I should rename this blog “Vietnam: Where You Too Can Become a Star.”

A Most Amusing Race

The last two months that I’ve been in Vietnam have been the longest period of time I’ve gone without running since I was probably 13 years old. I’ve never met so many obstacles to a good run before. There’s the heat, the constant sweating, the stomach woes, the stares, and worst of all, the smog. I thought I had finally resigned myself to a year of yoga and flabby thighs, but this past Sunday I thought I would go crazy if I didn’t get some kind of physical activity beyond breathing and stretching. So I decided to try the Can Tho University Campus 1 “track.”

When I say “track” I mean the quarter mile loop of gravelly, pot-holed road that connects my house with those of all of my neighbors. During the daytime it’s just your average neighborhood street in Vietnam. But come early morning/evening, it’s a hub of activity. Whole groups of women in day clothes, walking and talking, mothers pushing their babies in strollers, shirtless old men plodding along, even whole families out for a nice stroll around the block. Despite the appealing atmosphere, I’ve avoided this exercise option because, well, the thought of running every day without ever actually going anywhere for the next year made me cringe.

But out of pure desperation on Sunday afternoon, I pulled my running shoes out of the closet, and with Benny Benassi blasting in my ears, psyched myself up for the most boring run ever. I had only done a couple of laps when I came out of my adrenaline rush/iPod haze enough to realize that I’d attracted a sort of following. Apparently I’d become the afternoon’s amusement for a bunch of six-year old boys. As I rounded the first corner of the “track,” I’d see them hunch over in starting position, watching my approach. Then as I came up to where they were crouching they’d race me until they were out of breath. I’d finish my lap, round the corner, and the game would begin again. This went on for a solid 20 minutes, and they held up impressively against my exponentially longer legs! Definitely the most bizarre race I’ve ever run, but also probably the cutest competition…

About thirty minutes later I came in, sweaty and more exhausted than I should ever be after four miles. But it was worth it for the much-needed, much-missed endorphin high. I think I’m going to keep up my daily turn around the Campus 1 “track,” and hopefully I’ll encounter my little friends again soon.

More soon. Life has gotten surprisingly hectic but this weekend I’m taking some time to go to Phu Quoc Island for a little R&R. Yeah, don’t be too jeal. Love and miss you all!

On Chewing the Proverbial Fat

I’ve come to realize that one of the things I have missed most about America over the first few months is conversation. Real, interesting conversations have come fewer and farther between for me here in Vietnam, for a number of reasons I think.

First of all there’s the fact that, hey, I’m new here. Moving from a place infused with the comfort of four-year-long friendships to a new city – let alone one across the world – has its challenges and frustrations. There’s Alice, of course, but let’s be honest – there aren’t many subjects the two of us haven’t covered! Just kidding…but seriously.

Then there’s the obvious language barrier. Alice, Samantha, Frank (new PiAer in Rach Gia, about 3 hours away) and I have a running joke that most conversations with Vietnamese people follow the same pattern of simple questions: “Hello hello, where you from? Where you go? How long you stay in Vietnam? What you think of Vietnamese students? What you think of Vietnamese food?” Which, let’s be honest, seems like a highly sophisticated interchange when compared with my shameful attempts at communicating in Vietnamese. Hard to string together a conversation with “How much?” “I like fruit” and “Your baby is beautiful”…

But it also seems to me that relationships work differently here. I remember at the beach this summer when, momentarily exasperated with my all-too emotionally articulate family and friends, I told my aunt that I could not wait to get to Asia where “no talks about their feelings and opinions, EVER.” Though I was joking at the time, I’ve found the stereotype to be more or less true. People will welcome you into their homes for a meal without hesitation, but there is a certain reserve when it comes to letting you in to their hearts and lives. Not that deep friendships don’t ultimately happen – they maybe just take a little more patience and persistence.

The relative absence of such “real” conversations has made me realize how much of the learning and growing up I did over the past four years happened around the dinner table in Forbes or at Cloister, having morning coffee with my parents, cooking (or peeling carrots in Karli’s case) at 9 Linkoping Rd., or with all 4 roommates crowded into our tiny 47 Spelman kitchen in the wee hours of the morning. These and countless other times are what I miss most, and what I always hate leaving behind…

Which is why it has been exciting that I have recently started to find more of these moments happening in Asia.

Take for example my friend “Michelle” (sorry, I feel weird using people’s real names!). I met Michelle through the orphanage project – she was hired by Kate as a summer volunteer and just a few weeks ago joined the regular year staff as well. Michelle is different than a lot of Vietnamese girls I have met...

The women’s lib movement and all its implications have yet to really hit the Delta, particularly when it comes to social expectations. Girls cannot stay out past 10 p.m., or socialize with a group of men without being assumed a “loose woman” (as Mom & Dad like to say). And though women with careers are becoming increasingly common, men are still seen as the primary providers and women as the primary caretakers. And you can tell by looking around that the feminine ideal remains extremely girly – all about frills and pink, avoiding sweating and looking “lovely.” But they also work really hard – they have a LOT of babies, somehow manage to keep everything super clean and pretty much every woman is a kick-ass cook. My wonderfully blunt Vietnamese-American friend Thu put it perfectly, “They are such flowers. Incredibly strong in many ways, but such flowers.”

All this has been interesting for me. In some ways, it is kind of a fun experiment to be in a place where I can anonymously explore my inner girly side by bedazzling my nails and frilling my wardrobe, etc. But at the same time, I don’t think I’ll ever stop hating pink, loving to sweat, or enjoying having male friends, and the girlish giggles of my female students when called on in class continue to drive me nuts.

Anyways, sorry for the brief digression but this setting is why Michelle proves so fascinating a person to me. She is definitely not a flower. I’ve found her to be more open and easier to talk to than almost anyone else I’ve met. The other week at a party at our house, we spent a solid 45 minutes talking about her plans for after graduation – how she is debating between in staying in Can Tho and moving to Ho Chi Minh City, why she and her boyfriend of three years recently got engaged, differences between dating in America and Vietnam. Just the other day, after a meeting for the orphanage project, she took hold of the notebook I was using and began analyzing my handwriting a bit (It was kind of freaky how many things she could tell me about myself!), which got us going on an interesting little discussion of personality traits and whether or not we believe in things like handwriting analysis and astrology, etc.

It seems to me that Michelle has the best of both worlds – all the drive, smarts and confidence of any “liberated” Western woman, but without completely abandoning the quiet strength and grace that I so admire in so many Vietnamese women. And on top of that, she has a heart of absolute gold. I’m looking forward to getting to know her better…

On to moment number 2 of real conversation…anyone who knows me well wouldn’t be surprised to learn that I was beyond thrilled when last week one of my students asked me to have coffee with him to discuss the American political party system. This kid, who we’ll call “Jack,” is an all-star. For the first two years of college, he refused to speak in anything but English to his roommate in an effort to master the language. On the first day of class this semester, he marched right up to me afterwards and asked me who I preferred in the upcoming presidential election, who I had preferred in the Democratic primary, and told me his opinions of all the candidates and their motivations. I was blown away.

So naturally, when I headed out this Sunday to meet him for coffee (with Frank in tow as another good source of American political knowledge), I was excited to see where the conversation would go. Jack started off by asking me if he could change his in-class presentation topic to “Why the government should allow more than one party.” Although my insides leaped for joy, my better judgment suggested that maybe we keep things social in the classroom of a government-run university. He continued on from there to ask Frank and I our views on the election, Sarah Palin, the current financial crisis, China, Bill Clinton, and capital punishment, among other things. I think he was better informed about international news than almost anyone I know. And in his own turn, he was remarkably honest about the political climate in his own country. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I had the chance to ask him all the questions that I was dying to get answers to – what is and is not appropriate to ask, how people view the government, etc.

It was both an inspirational and a humbling experience, to witness a student so thirsty for knowledge and eager for exchange that I was making his day by spending just an hour or two talking over coffee. It began to make Vietnam, and my role here as a foreign teacher and representative of my own country, more real to me, more of an actual purpose than just a fun/ridiculous stint as a local celebrity.

Another thing that has made me exceptionally happy recently is that Alice, Samantha, Thi Bay and I have started eating in on occasion. Though I love the taste and cheap prices of street food, cooking at home can be much more relaxing and social. I.e. today at lunch Thi Bay went on a pretty interesting rant about Cuba in the fantastic way that only Italians can (I miss you Micol!). I’m also hoping some of my students will teach me how to make a few Vietnamese dishes before I go home for Christmas.

So anyways, these encounters – and a couple of others that I won’t bore you with – have made me even more excited about the possibilities for the coming months here in ’Nam. Next step is to get myself healthy – my shameful sleeping habits have landed me sick for about the 23094203984234th time since I’ve gotten here. Ugh.

Oh, and to everyone out there, if you like having “real” conversations as much as I do, well, we can still have them! On Skype. Do it do it do it now. Until then, chào các ban (goodbye everyone (I think))!

Six-Week Sound Bites

Hello dear readers, Julia the bad blogger here. So these past few weeks, my teaching schedule came and hit me square in the face. One-hundred and fifty students is a lot to keep up with, apparently. In other news, the downside to, well, having friends here is that my weekends have become busier and less prone to idle rumination.

So on that note I don’t have time for a full post right now, but in an effort to pretend like I actually write in this thing on a regular-enough basis I leave you with some six-week sound-bites.

#1 A brief update on my efforts to assimilate…

My appearance. Since I’m sitting here in my second pair of day clothes, complete with bedazzled fingernails (first time I’ve worn blue polish since I was 10, thanks very much!) and pimpin’ Detroit hat, I think it is safe to say that I have mastered the art of “Vietnam chique.”

As for adopting the local schedule…I cannot. I tried my best to wake up at 5 a.m. to run this week, and it made me into a miserable human being who hated life. No one should get up when it is still dark out. Ever. Because of my penchant for sleep, running without losing half my body weight in sweat doesn’t seem to be an option here. Instead I’ve decided to pursue another path of Asian assimilation by doing yoga every day so hopefully when I come back to the States I’ll be freakishly flexible.

I have, however, succeeded in biking around a bit more to find the best of the best in local cuisine. I now have favorite places for pho (FUH) and curry, and a couple of great vegetarian stands to get bún cha gìo (BOOM cha YO) or noodles with veggies and fried spring rolls. Last week a German friend took us on a long bike ride out of the city to eat lunch. After winding through alleyways and over bridges, we pulled up to what was essentially someone’s home with a few lawn chairs set out on the patio, and proceeded to feast on the most delicious bánh xào (BUHN say-oh) I’ve ever had. A Can Tho specialty, bánh xào consists of rice made into crêpe-like wraps stuffed with shrimp and vegetables. You take some of this crêpe and wrap it with mint and other herbs in a huge lettuce leaf doused with spices, then dip it all in special sauce. SO good.

#2 Speaking of which…

After being around for a while I’ve decided that the Vietnamese are schizophrenic eaters. What do I mean by this? On one hand, meals in general are pretty lean – rice and noodles, broths, small quantities of meat, and vegetables, vegetables, vegetables. For the first few weeks of living here I ate so many dishes like this that my body was crying out for grease. I thought I was the only one besides Alice with an inner fat kid. And then I discovered it – the underbelly of Vietnamese cuisine. Hidden beneath the healthy façade of greens and rice are layers and layers of fried, sugary deliciousness. You can pretty much fry anything here. Bananas. Plantains. Sweet potatoes. Sticky rice. Dough. Chicken. Squid. It’s like the American South on steroids. It is also safe to assume that sugar has been added to anything you drink. Hell, you can even drink sugar, straight from the cane.

#3 It was bound to happen sometime…

That’s right, ladies and gents, my first traffic accident. Ironically just this morning I commented on how comfortable I was starting to feel biking around, and mere hours later I found myself face-planted on the asphalt with bruised knees and palms. To my credit it was not actually my fault. The turn through the university gate is always kind of a crap shoot, with tons of motorbikes and bicycles bottlenecking onto the shoulder going the wrong way down the street. Anyways, today as I was turning in some little punk came up alongside me and cut me off – his rear wheel knocking into my front wheel, overturning my bicycle and sending me flying. Luckily I was close enough to the side of the road so I was more shaken up than anything. And mad, as the expression on my face betrayed apparently. He helped me pick up my bike but was looking at me the whole time like I might bite him. So I just grabbed my stuff and said “BE CAREFUL” in a tone that made it the Vietnamese equivalent of an expletive-deleted. It was kind of nice to show emotion in public, even if I did lose a little face.

#4 Nothing is creepy in Vietnam.

It’s true. I’ve decided that you can approach anyone, anywhere without feeling any qualms about beings construed as socially awkward or intruding on their privacy. Take for example my new friend who we will call “John.” One day as I am bicycling home from school, John rides up alongside me and greets me with a cheerful “Hello Julia, where are you going?” Oh great, I thought, this is one of my students and I don’t recognize him. I try to play it cool and casually asked him could he please remind me what section of my class he was in again? “Oh no, I’m not in your class. No no, I just like to make friends with the foreign teachers to practice my English. I knew Nathan and Mark (last year PiAers) and heard that the new foreign teachers were Julia, Alice and Samantha. And I knew you were Julia because of your hair. You are famous because of your hair.”

Or take this excerpt from an email I recently received. I met its author “Tammy” while having coffee outside the school library. She said she had heard of our orphanage project and wanted to join us, and would we be able to give us our contact info? A few days later I received a note from her (Subject line: Making friends!) in which she again expressed her wish to join the project (which was very sweet). But then she comes out with this…

“Another thing I'd like to let u know is both my parents and I are vegan for many years.I think we can obtain many benefits from changing into an alternative living by reducing meat consumption.Meat is delicious but poisonous. Ucan be healthy if u limit eating meat.Take it easy, i don'tmean to convince or force u,just invite and encourage u to lead a better life without violence to animals and other species frommyown experience.
By the way, I'd like to introduce to u these 2 websites,u can visit them when u r free.I m sure it can bring u many benefits:
www.Godsdirectcontact.org
www.SupremeMasterTV.con”

I’m not sure what about my appearance screamed “raging carnivore,” but I do think it is one of the better arguments for vegetarianism that I have heard, and I can’t wait to visit these websites…

#5 It does get “cold” here!

I’m quickly discovering that the “rain” I experienced during my first weeks was only a taste of the joys of the rainy season to come. It has poured and poured and poured over the past few days to the point that my super-sweet poncho never has time to dry before I need it again. Last night on the way to a birthday party we had the pleasure of encountering just such a nasty spot of weather. Only a short distance away from our destinaton, we decided to forego pulling over to throw on our ponchos. Big mistake – within five minutes we were soaked through and had to sit through dinner in our wet clothes.

But the upside of the rain is that the heat subsides, and we even get days that are cool with nice breezes. Who would’ve thought? It might also be that I have just gotten accustomed to obscene temperatures. I now have to bring a sweater/jacket with me whenever I go someplace air-conditioned because I get too cold. My student Cherub (FYI not a made-up name) tells me that it even gets down to a "freezing" 25 degrees Celsius in December…

#6 Music to my ears?

Jack warned us on arrival that the Vietnamese seem to have a somewhat different conception of what constitutes appropriate volume. In my short time here thus far I have found this to be overwhelmingly accurate. Note to self – bring headphones whenever you travel, because 4 hours in a mini-bus blasting music at 12 decibels can get tiresome.

I’m also starting to wonder if the Vietnamese have different melodic standards as well. Maybe the somewhat nasal quality of the language also shapes music tastes? Because every song that I hear seems to have the same medley-of-a-dying-cat sound – makes me all the more psyched for my first karaoke experience! I’ve also noticed this even in everyday sounds. I.e. when a truck is backing up, the noise it makes is not the usual “Beep, beep, beep” but instead some variation on “It’s a Small World After All,” “Happy Birthday To You,” or “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” It’s like every truck is the ice cream truck.

Vietnamese techno, on the other hand, is fabulous – as I am reminded every time I pass a clothing store blasting it at full volume. So maybe not all hope is lost for my continuing musical education…

* * *
Turns out that this was not the short post I originally intended. I’ll write again soon with a real update. In the meantime, best to everyone!

From Toddlers to Teaching to Thoughts I've Been Thinking

Dios mio, has it been a long time since I’ve written in this thing! Life has taken off with a running start around here, so this is the first time I’ve really been able to come up for air in a few weeks. I’ve had so much to say I don’t even know where to begin. So naturally I just kept putting it off and putting it off until tomorrow. I guess some things never change, huh?

Anyways, first thing’s first…teaching! I’m now in my third week of classes and though I still feel like I have no clue what I’m doing, things have been going surprisingly well. Alice and I each have four sections of Listening and Speaking 4 for third years, and will soon each pick up a section of a first year pronunciation class. I’ve been pleasantly surprised at how much younger the students seem to me than they actually are. Most are only a year or two younger than me, so I was worried about being able to establish any semblance of authority in the classroom, but their bashful giggling in class make them seem to be more high-school age than college.
The students are also EXCEEDINGLY polite and respectful to me as their teacher. When I enter the room, they all rise and say good morning in chorus, and every student comes to my desk and wishes me a pleasant afternoon on their way out the door at the end of class. Once I corrected a student for talking in class and he came up to me during the break, apologizing profusely for chatting when it was “so silly to do so.” RESPEK.

The students are also extremely eager to learn English, and particularly excited to study with a native speaker. Many of them have studied English for years and have an extensive grammar and vocabulary, but when it comes to speaking they almost never have the chance to practice with someone who speaks fluently. And as anyone who has taken a language previously will know, that can make communication very difficult! In the Delta in particular, mastering the English language is seen as the ticket to opportunity, to moving up and out, to earning a decent living. The first week of class, we played a name game in which I asked them all to share with me their “dream for the future.” Very khumbaya, I know. I’m such an American – I expected to get answers like “to cure for cancer” or “to circumnavigate the world.” The almost universal response was “to get a good job in Ho Chi Minh City and make a lot of money.” Never before had I thought of dreaming as a luxury…

As for what the hell I am actually teaching them, it’s hard to say – listening and speaking, obviously, but beyond that your guess is as good as mine. The University gave us a loose syllabus that outlined five suggested topics as vague as “communication” and “transitions,” recommended a textbook, and told us to get to work designing a class. Despite the many classes as I have taken and enjoyed over the past 8 years, I’m learning fast that I’ve never truly appreciated how much hard work, meticulous planning, and creativity it takes to teach a wonderful course. I’m looking forward to having some time this weekend to sit down and do some big-picture planning, as up until now I’ve been throwing things together week-by-week in a manner that is a little more fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants than I’d like it to be. Mostly for now, I try to focus on skills and vocabulary that will actually be useful to them in real life, and make them laugh as much as possible. One of the conclusions that I’ve come to in my limited experience as a leader for OA is that one of the best ways to put people at ease is to play the goof. Lucky for me (and thanks to my parents), I’m exceptionally talented at making a fool of myself in all areas of life, so I just try to put myself out there as much as possible!

Outside of class, Alice and I have been spending a lot of time over the past week working with Kate and Jack Thirolf on a project at two local orphanages. I think I have alluded to the project and to Jack and Kate before, but I wanted to take a second to explain it in more detail. The Can Tho Youth Empowerment Project (as it is called) was founded by PiAer Danny White a few years ago, and recruits students from the University to teach English and Computer classes for the children at the Buu Tri Pagoda and Hoi Tu Thien orphanages. Jack took over the project from Dan and ran it remotely from his post in Rach Gia (2 hours away) for the past year. This summer his sister Kate received a grant from the University of Michigan, where she is working on her Ph.D. in Educational Management, to come to Can Tho to carry out a month-long summer program with the help of a team of student volunteers from both Can Tho and Ho Chi Minh City. You can check it out on her blog at http://canthoyouthprogram.blogspot.com/.

Almost as soon as we arrived, Alice and I began making trips with Kate and Jack to the orphanage every few days to help out with the project. It was a great way to jump right in, especially since we will be taking over leadership now that Jack has left. Highlights included teaching the chicken dance to a group of six-year olds (I think it was actually a bigger hit with the 21-year old volunteers!), spending six hours on a boat up the river with booting and peeing babies, and playing human jungle gym for hours on end. But seriously though…taking part in Kate’s project led me to feel a sense of community and purpose very early on during my time in Can Tho, and I was sad to see it end. Fortunately, many of the student volunteers who I befriended will continue on with us throughout the school year, so I will get to see much more of them!

And let’s be honest, what is more fun than playing with adorable Asian babies for hours on end? (Pictures below!) For all of their rambunctious behavior, it is hard not to love these little guys. There is Van Anh, one of the oldest orphans, who speaks better English than most of my students and has more patience with her little friends than most saints, and Nhi (left), who manages to get away with anything by flashing her toothless grin. There is Kien (or “Monkey Baby” as Alice and I affectionately call him), a bald little guy who doesn’t hesitate to snuggle up to you within minutes of meeting you, and Chunkers, the fattest, happiest Vietnamese baby that ever lived. One and all, they light up the room with their enthusiasm, and the love and affection they show us is without bounds. I’m excited to be able to work more with this project in the future – Alice and I are only the “third generation” of leadership and will really have the chance to shape its course from here on out.

After spending last weekend in Saigon (more on this later) with the Delta PiAers – sending off Jack and welcoming his replacement Frank – life is beginning to settle down into a nice little routine of work, sleep, and coffee dates (believe it or not, the Vietnamese mode of socialization and relaxation – what better place for me to live!). My world here is definitely much smaller, which takes some getting used to after the wonderful rush that was these past two years, but after spending some time in the big city this past weekend I’m starting to really appreciate the slow pace and community feel of Can Tho.

As I’ve regained my sense after the initial overwhelming plunge, I’ve been thinking a lot and have tried to set some little goals for myself to make the most of this unique opportunity to immerse myself in some place so completely different than I’ve ever known. I’m trying my best to get on the Vietnamese schedule – up in the early morning to exercise before the heat, to bed by ten, and meals at least an hour earlier than the rest of the world. Attempt number one to get up at five failed miserably – I woke up at six in a daze, lying on top of my alarm clock. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow. I want to take time over the next few days to ride my bike around the entire city and orient myself a bit better, to try something at every food stand that I see. I want to find a favorite restaurant for every Vietnamese specialty, a favorite street, a favorite bike shop, a favorite bookstore. I want to befriend the owners of the fruit stand and the photocopy place and the pharmacy across the street. I desperately want to be able to speak Vietnamese – I’m starting class tomorrow at long last. Learning key phrases such as “Where is the bathroom?” and “Could you peel that mango for me please?” could really enhance my day-to-day life around here. Mom, you’ll be happy to know that I’m adapting quickly to Vietnamese standards of neatness around the house – keeping the cockroaches away provides motivation even where years of parental training doesn’t, I guess. I might even go so far as to embrace the uniquely bizarre Vietnamese female fashion sense and bedazzle EVERYTHING I own. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. Strange to think that I might actually be less conspicuous wearing flowered day clothes (an outfit that essentially amounts to polyester pajamas), long white gloves and a face mask (to protect skin from the sun), and a sparkly, floppy hat.

Well, as this post has turned into a lengthy one, I think I will wrap it up for now. I promise to turn this blog into more of a weekly update than a monthly dissertation in the future. More to come on the weekend in Saigon soon, but for now, love to all! Hope that you are happy and healthy wherever you may be…

Quite a Week

Hello everyone, and my apologies for taking so long to post an update, I’m sure you have all been waiting with bated breath for news. Ha. I’ve always thought of blogging as a bit pretentious – but at the same time, the thought of sending mass emails on a regular basis seems both impractical and ridiculous, so here goes.

So I’ve now been in Vietnam for (a little over) a week, and I’m finding it hard to sum up in a few paragraphs just how many things I’ve seen and how many jumbled thoughts have been running through my head. I’ve spent hours playing with exhaustingly adorable Vietnamese orphans, burned incense at a pagoda, and traveled by boat down the river to a traditional death anniversary celebration in the countryside (read: jungle) of Hau Giang province, where I met a 68-year old man who hadn’t encountered a foreigner since the war. I’ve killed 25 cockroaches in my house in one afternoon, had a touch of the “Welcome to Vietnam” stomach troubles, and experienced the torrential rains of the tropical wet season most unfortunately on my way home from my first class. I’ve eaten dragon fruit and chum-chum, sticky rice and fried bananas, frog, mouse, snails and (out of nowhere) fried chicken, and tons and TONS of pho and bun and any kind of noodle you could imagine. I’ve played Love Doctor to a 21-year-old Buddhist nun over coffee. I didn’t even know Buddhist nuns could date. Needless to say, it has been a week of highs and lows – I’ve had simply intoxicating days when I can see myself truly falling in love with the place, and days when I just wanted to crawl back under my mosquito net and cry to the geckos on my walls. Such is life in the Delta, or so I have heard. But I’m slowly but surely feeling at home…

On that note, it never ceases to surprise me how quickly some things become normal. Like the traffic – whereas a week ago I had knots in my stomach and held my handlebars with an iron grip every time that I ventured out on the roads, I now find myself tooling along enjoying the scenery, even humming or practicing Vietnamese as I ride. I have also grown accustomed to finding sustenance at street-side food stands where the furnishings consist of plastic kiddie chairs and where you wipe down your chopsticks with a complimentary roll of toilet paper before eating (don’t worry, the food is good!). Sweating, pantomiming in order to communicate, hopping on the back of a motorbike, generally playing the Western fool – these have all become daily activities. A lot of times I just kind of look around and laugh to myself, “Where am I?”

So far I’ve found the Vietnamese people to be fascinatingly different. In many ways, the culture here remains steadfastly traditional – particularly in the Delta – grounded in gracious hospitality, stoicism, diligence, and devotion to the common good. It is actually rude to say thank you to your friends and family – taking care of your own is not optional but expected, and vocal gratitude is more like a vote of no confidence. I cannot tell you how many invitations to meals and coffee I’ve received or how much free food I’ve been given, all within about 2 seconds of meeting someone. At the same time, coming from a place where people are actively encouraged to formulate and share their own ideas and opinions, the somewhat reserved nature of the Vietnamese is quite a contrast. The paramount importance of the appearance of accord and homogeneity can sometimes mask individuality. It’s intriguing – it seems like everyone has a story that they’re not quite willing to share, and makes me want to dig a bit deeper.

In this respect, Vietnam is a really interesting collision of East and West, of first and third worlds at the moment. Just riding around Can Tho alone you will see a dinky little food stand next to a bright and shiny electronics store, or a woman driving a motorbike in a business suit next to an old guy pushing watermelons in a wooden cart. When we took a trip into the country, we visited houses that had satellite TV and cell phones but no running water (read: squat toilets, yum). There are coffee shops here that are nicer than Small World, but also whole families living in one-room houses. It is so bizarre. And everyone is very conscious of the fact that Vietnam is on the fast track to “development.” Whatever the hell that term really means, I have yet to discover. But in practice in Vietnam, it means that everyone here is DYING to learn to speak English. On the first day of class, I asked my students to tell me why they studied English. Their almost universal answer was “to help me get a good job and make a lot of money.” There is very much a sense of wanting to move up and out of the delta in Can Tho. Learning English seems to be the best way to accomplish that, so foreign teachers are very well respected and sought after. There is such curiosity about America and American culture, and everyone wants to “speak with foreigner” around here. At a coffee shop today, in fact, my status as a native speaker launched me into the position of featured attraction for the afternoon – I quickly became the object of a group interrogation. As a Westerner, I’ve found that I am sometimes seen as having superhuman capabilities and all the answers (thus the Love Doctor nun coffee date). Ha, such a different feeling from Africa. It is nice to feel respected and useful, but sometimes the special treatment bothers me. Like when we’re fed before the orphans at the Pagoda, or when people who are working to provide for their whole families insist on paying for my meals. Or when I remember the My Lai massacre. Oh dear.

But mostly, being a foreigner in Can Tho keeps the hilarious incidents coming fast and furious. Case and point #1: Last week when Alice and I had spotty Internet access, we went most mornings to an Internet café across the street. As soon as they saw us walk in, they would smile, say “Hello!” excitedly and start BLASTING techno. Just for us, how delightful. Case and point #2: For the past few days, we’ve been curious about the mysterious banana-leaf-wrapped food sold everywhere on the streets. Tonight we decided to buy some, thinking it would be some sort of delicious sticky rice or pastry. We start opening it at the dinner table, but are so inept that the shop keeper comes over and does it for us, miming slicing it and eating it to show us how it’s done. Only then do we realize that we have not bought sweets but instead a big fat roll of pork. Yum! Case and point #3: Based on the advice of PiA, before I left home I made sure to stop by my local Harley store to purchase a top-notch American helmet to wear on motorbikes. Little did I know that I would own the biggest helmet in all of the Delta. Most people wear helmets that cover the crown of their head. Mine engulfs my entire head and even has a nifty chin guard. I’ll post a picture – it’s pretty intense, probably like the size of a small child. When people see it, they laugh and point and say “Whoaaaaaaa.” I tell them it has to be big to hold all of my big hair ☺

On that note, I think I’ll wrap things up for now – more to come later on teaching and my newly acquired Asia-speak. I’ll try to post on this as often as possible, and hopefully I’ll even learn how to post pictures along with these large blocks of long-winded text. In the meantime, everyone take care – love to all!