Free Time

It's all the kids have these days--hours and hours to do as they please. Of course, this often resorts to playing video games, but not always. On Saturday evening, Audrey and I went swimming with some students (past and present) while Stuart rested. He's had a cold for the past few days. I managed to press through the embarrassment of a bathing suit, just for my daughter's sake, and enjoyed swimming in the cool evening for a couple of hours.

The past two days have been only in the low 80s, much cooler than the past week. It began heating (and humidifying) again last night, so I'm expecting another hot one today.

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For a project that Audrey is working on, we needed plain, unlined paper. There are a few shops at the market that sell school supplies, so we decided to check there first (rather than take the taxi to the supermarket). Sure enough, four stalls in a woman had an open pack of A4 paper. "Bao nhieu?" Out came a string of words and I caught the 10,000VND part, but something came after it. Six.. something, it sounded like. She repeated it and I though perhaps it's 10,000VND for a certain number of pates, though six sounded like a ridiculously low number. Then along comes a Hong Duc student to help me out. Yep, 10,000VND for a certain number of pages: 60, to be exact. So I handed her the money and we waited patiently for her to count out 60 pieces of paper and wrap them in plastic for us.

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Anyone know how to use fresh turmeric? I couldn't seem to get the shopkeeper to understand that I wanted dried turmeric and she threw the fresh root into my bag. I haven't a clue how to use it and have little luck hunting online.

Really, I must buy some more spices when I get paid and head back to Hanoi.

What's the racket?

Dai came by tonight, around 6pm, to ask if the kids could come out and play badminton with him and some other students. Neither Stuart nor Audrey were super eager to hang out with students eager to practice English, but I pushed them to head out. The weather has been lovely the last couple of days and I know that as summer progresses the evenings, like this, that dip into the 80s will be non-existent. So out they went and soon after I followed to find out exactly where they were. Come to find out there is a badminton court set up in the play yard of the primary school that abuts the university campus. We'd seen it from the top floor of the adjoining building when we were here two years ago, but never knew what it was. Now we do... it's a primary school. I watched them play for a bit, then nabbed the chance to play when I got it.

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The first week of teaching is finished and I feel like it was pretty successful. I've got some enormous shoes to fill with Mr. Ben leaving, but I will simply do my best.

Martyrdom

My ex-husband used to accuse me of being a martyr and I consistently rebuked the term: I don't purposefully look for suffering . But this morning my mother, after listening to me whine about the chaos of these last few days, asked me, "Why do you do this to yourself?" and I didn't really have an answer. Some of it is inescapable. I have two papers for my online ED291 class due today, an earlier due date than I had expected after several days of no internet at home. My friend is hosting a farewell bbq tonight. My daughter wants to visit her friend's horseback riding class one last time. Both kids have to go to my parents' home for the night. Early tomorrow morning I have to catch a bus to the airport for a flight to Sacramento (via Seattle). The only thing I can really get out of is the riding class, but I feel like the loving mom, the good mom is the one who goes out of her way to make her children happy. I need to do it.

I have given up on the hope of getting the painting in the living room finished and I probably won't get around to making that other dress, but I have some clothing alterations that I promised for other people. I've got re-writes and critiques for my WR290 class to finish. I have to find another piece of luggage to pack all these clothes for the orphans in. I have to scrub the bathroom and mop the floor. Plus work everyday and have dinner with family, then friends, then housemates.

The schedule is so full, it's overflowing the pages of my planner onto sticky notes. And then the next week...it's empty. This is just the chaos before the calm. I think I'll make it through okay and with passing (if not stellar) grades. I'll finish my classes and I'll say goodbye to friends. And maybe someday I won't feel so much like a mouse on a wheel, always chasing after something I can't quite see.

Portland Rose Garden

It was cold and rainy during the all-school picnic on Monday, but the flowers that were in bloom were beautiful. You can see them all on Flickr.

One year later

Here it is the day after Christmas once again, but this year is markedly different from last. 365 days ago, we were in Seattle waiting to board our Korean Airlines flight to Viet Nam, the culmination of nearly 10 months of planning and saving. A day we thought might never come.

And now, a year later, I sit in the "living room" of our two-room space, chatting via Yahoo with Tung, a former student in Thanh Hoa. One of my favorites, he taught Audrey Vietnamese and basketball, and constantly livened up our classroom. Stuart is playing video games while Audrey catches up on sleep.

The memories of our time in Viet Nam overwhelm me a bit and I'm suffocated by my life here. After nearly a month of job searching, I've yet to score even an interview. Time's running out and I'm bordering on panic, again. Coming back to the States was supposed to be easier than this constant drama of never having enough money and having to choose between being a provider or a caretaker for my kids. They deserve better than this and I regret ever getting on that plane back here, thinking that would solve any problems.

The financial stress is awful and Audrey often complains that I'm just so grumpy, but I can't help it. All I can think of is "How am I going to come up with another $300 to pay rent?" or "Where am I going to find some money for food?" or "How do I explain that no one is getting any Xmas presents from me?" It weighs over me like a ton of bricks and no matter how polished my resume gets, it doesn't seem to be doing me any good.

And then I compare this feeling of an elephant on my chest with the times we were playing on the beach at Sam Son and i can't help but get teary-eyed, aching for those days when the stress didn't come from how we were going to eat, but having to get lunch prepared before I headed off to class for a couple of hours.

I'm hoping that the new year will bring a bit more ease into our lives and some happiness to my heart. It's been a heck of a year with extreme ups and downs that I would have never believed possible.

kids are funny

The other day we were at Fubonn, the local Asian shopping center, buying some groceries. We were walking through the vegetable department when I stopped to look at the long Thai green beans, then turned to choose some limes. Next to me was a young boy and his sister sat in the cart right next to him.

He grabbed my arm and asked "Are you Vietnamese?" "Khong. No, I'm not," I told him. He yelled back ('cause kids can never be soft-spoken) "I am! And my mom is Vietnamese and my dad is Vietnamese and my sister is Vietnamese!" I told him he was very lucky.

I'm still not sure why he asked the question--I certainly don't look Vietnamese--but it was sweet.

change of perception

I didn't even mention the biggest change, which is in my perspective of the world and, particularly, of American (aka Western) life.

Do we really need to be able to choose between 50 different brands/flavors/fat content/styles of yogurt? Yogurt. Come on. I'd be satisfied with plain vanilla Vinamilk yogurt again, with a little fruit thrown in. I can even see having a few varieties of fruit flavors, but it's overwhelming staring at the dairy section and the yogurts take up ten feet of shelf space.

And how can we possibly need that many choices in pretty much anything and everything, even water! Bottled water comes in small, medium, and large glass or plastic bottles. Flavored or not. Sparkling or flat. It was so much easier when there was just one, maybe two brands to choose from. And when 5 gallons of bottled water cost the equivalent of a dollar.

I find myself irritated with the seemingly American way of being self-absorbed. Last night, I was discussing with my mom the lunacy of Americans, particularly the worker who was jailed for spilling salt on a burger and the woman who tried to burn her neighbor's house down when she thought they'd stolen her keys (later found in her own pocket! People have way too much time on their hands.

And part of that falls into the other thing that drives me insane these days... the obsession of having newer, bigger, better. Doesn't matter if that jacket has hardly been worn, it's so last season! Our 4000 sq. ft. house? Just not big enough. There's a new iPod? Must have it now. -insert eyeroll here-

It's taking a pretty good tole on my patience to deal with listening to people's conversations about this fall's new lip color while I am struggling to find a way to send warm clothes to orphaned children. Or while women are being sold into prostitution. Or while any number of things are happening that are way more important, in my opinion.

I've tried not to get on my high-horse about it, but the kids and I spend a good portion of our two-hour daily commute discussing the lunacy of so many of our peers. And high school! Poor Stuart has to deal with the brunt of the "it's all about me and what I want" (with no thoughts for the future) attitudes of his classmates.

Yeah, I wasn't quite prepared to be quite so disappointed.

ch-ch-changes in me

The kids started back to school this week, returning to the same great school they attended for the past 3 years (sans our break to SE Asia), and everyone asks: "So, how was your trip?" Wonderful, amazing, awesome, life-changing. All the words work, but they don't give it even the slightest bit of depth. How can you possibly wrap up seven months into a 2-minute answer. I've yet to figure that out, so I keep saying things like: "Best thing we've ever done" or "I'd do it again in a heartbeat; squats, dogs and all!"

One mother, who had lived in Thailand as a teenager, asked me how it had changed me. It has changed me, in so many ways.
--A few weeks ago I painted my nails in red, as I'd always done prior to our trip, but after a day I felt like a poser and took it off. It's just not me anymore.
--I realize I drive very close to other cars, too. In VN, everyone drives on top of each other and it just seems normal until I think about the killing capacity of cars vs. motorbikes, then I back off.
--I prefer chopsticks for pretty much anything that I can't eat with my fingers.
--Knives are not preferred; like Tommy, I'd rather pick up the hunk of meat with the chopsticks and tear it off.
--I slurp all soups and noodle dishes.
--I still find squatting to wait quite comfortable and have to drive with one foot up on the chair most of the time (this'll change when I get a stick shift back!)
--Fashion used to be so important and now I'm just proud of myself for getting dressed. I have no idea what's cool/hip/fashionable anymore.
--When I'm surrounded by Asians, I feel at home (though I'm only seen as an outsider)
--I still want to be with my kids as much as possible. It was great having them around all the time, even if they got sick of it.
--I want to do more with my life; I just have to find another way.

Tam Ky market

So let's see if this works...

We were in Tam Ky around Tet and the market (Chợ Tam Kỳ), always a bit overwhelming, increased in volume and mass. Here's a video put together of stills and movies, narrated by Audrey.

frustration

My feelings of inadequacy, of incompetence, of failure continue to loom over me despite daily efforts to look on the bright side. I just wish I could see a way of being able to support my kids, but it all seems so impossible now. The frustration limits my ability to accomplish much, which just seems to add to the frustration. It's a stupid catch-22. I can't help but be angry at myself for coming back before I was financially or emotionally ready, but at the same time, Audrey confirms that it was the right thing for her. She's even gained 3kgs since we got back! I just wish there was a way to have what was best for me and best for her and Stuart at the same time, but it feels like an impossible dream.

I'm continuing to work on my website and helping Audrey out with her Viet Nam scrapbook, so the memories still flow, bringing smiles and laughs. Good times, man.

Only 5 days until Stuart comes back. I can hardly wait. I love that kid and miss his witty humor.

plugging away

I've been busy lately, which is a good thing. Been working for Steve a bit, but mostly been striving to get this new website up and going. Who knew it would be so much to do?! But I'm determined to get it done. Just may take another month at this rate. But when I get it finished, it'll be a kick-butt reference for those planning to travel to Vietnam, especially with their kids.

Audrey's eager for school to start and get re-acquainted with her friends. She's been assigned, by me, to make a scrapbook of our time abroad. It should prove interesting to see what's important and memorable to her, compared to my own feelings. First, we've got to sift through more than 8000 photos to find 30 that she can include. Not an easy task.

Stuart's still in Cali, still enjoying it, though I miss his company quite a lot. He makes me laugh with his wit, so I'm looking forward to being humored when he returns.


Getting back to Vietnam seems like a daunting task now. The amount of money I'll have to save/earn is staggering to me (I'd forgotten about that credit card I have to pay off first, oops!). But I refuse to give up the dream. It may take a little longer than I'd hoped, but I will go back. My heart belongs there.

obesity reminds me of food (or something like that)

This article from Viet Nam News is headlined:

When dieting doesn’t help, the obese pin hopes on acupuncture

Then it goes on to talk about this 50-year-old woman who was "obese" at 165cm and weighed 65kg. I'm in serious trouble! I always thought I was a bit soft (as my daughter once put it), but now I've found out I am obese. Who knew?

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In other news, dragonfruit costs $7 each at Uwajimaya. Ouch. Banh mi cost $1 each, but I need it to try to make banh mi trung (one of the kids' faves). Anyone know what else goes on there beside fried egg, dried pork, cucumbers... what else?

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Still no sua chua/yogurt. Color me blue.

Name those seeds.

They are watermelon seeds and eaten much like Americans eat sunflower seeds. Usually eating watermelon seeds is something to do to pass the time while chatting and you'll see them covering the ground at many outdoor cafes. Vietnamese bite them in a particular way and pry them open with their tongues. I could never quite nail it, but, no surprise, Audrey did it like a native.

I miss watermelon seeds.

sick and tired (journal)

4 March 2007
I woke up this morning feeling kind of icky, but within an hour I felt like I was going to die. Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but I did feel really horrible. Like I had bad bronchitis or possibly pneumonia again. That kind of sick where all you can do is cry. So bad. Stuart was very helpful, putting the laundry up to dry and lying with me for a bit. Audrey made me a really sweet get well card, too. I was real worried about our trip to Ha Noi tomorrow. Mrs Hanh was very worried, too ("Teresa coming hospital!") so I told her what the problem was--very tired, hard to breath, and my chest was hurting. She said she had been sick this week, too, and said it was the same for her. I have a disgusting cough to go along with it, though. I've been dealing with this cough since before Tet [I still have the cough.]

Anyway, Mrs Hanh assured me that she had some medicine for me. At this point, I'm willing to endure being scraped with a silver spoon if it might make me feel better. She went back home and brought a little square packet: "Meko coramin" and "Mekophar." No idea what that means, but I'm desperate, so I took the square tablet, as directed by Mrs Hanh: Place it on my tongue and let it dissolve slowly.

Pauline took the kids out for a bike ride (with helmets, as always) and let me rest plus chat with Lee for a bit. It was super nice of her. The night before we'd joked that we looked like a happy lil' family at the coffee shop: Dad, Mom, two kids and Grandma. Today she acted like a grandma, taking the kids so I could rest. So very sweet.

Within about an hour of taking/eating the tablet, I was back to 80%. Felt so much better Seriously amazing. The pain in my chest was gone and I no longer felt an intense desire to cry myself to sleep. Ah, the joy of unknown meds. ha!

cravings

Before you get scared, no, I'm not preggers.

I stayed with my good friend Goolie the other night and I had the most insane craving for rice and fruit. I wanted it so bad, I went to the store, bought dried rice and some bananas, a peach and mixed melons. Came back to her house and cooked up the rice, then happily ate it with soy sauce and chopsticks. I used a mug instead of a bowl, but even with the minor variations, it felt like home. Oh yes, I do love fruit and rice.

arrived

After the unexpected run for the plane after mis-reading the clock, just over the brink of tears, we found that our plane was running nearly an hour late and we wouldn't miss the flight after all. Thank goodness because this consistent run of bad luck is a bit frustrating. We made it and landed at about 11:30a.m. PST.

And let me just say that the guards to get into democratic America are way scarier than communist China. I will not be heading in and out of Canada again unless absolutely necessary. Worst border crossing yet.

We stopped by my sister's house and I had my first startling response of not being stared at. It was odd to walk by people and not have them give a second glance to us. We're the norm again and I don't particularly like it, even though I didn't like being stared at either.

It's an awkward feeling being here. We've gone through so much in the past nearly seven months and yet, we came back to find everything precisely as we left it. My mom even kept my cell phone for me and had it fully charged. It was a sweet gesture, but at the same time I feel as if the person who used that phone such a short time ago is gone; I'm no longer the woman I was in December.

I don't know what I'm going to do exactly. I have to start paying on those darn school loans and I've got to do something with my life. In Viet Nam I felt I had a purpose, but here, it feels pointless. I've got to find something to give purpose or I'll slip into a whirlpool of depression and who needs that?

I emptied our suitcases today and am missing only a couple of things (two of our three stamps--I shoved them into something to keep them safe during our travels, but don't remember what) and found more clothes that I realized we had. It's good to have a space in my parents' house that is ours and for the first time in months, literally, I slept in a bed all by myself. Ahhh. Audrey is ecstatic to be back and has fallen in love with my folks' pet pomeranian, Stuart found the rest of his stored Legos and I am scouring Craigslist for some sort of income.

Life has changed. I have changed. We'll see what happens next. First, though, I've got to buy a new charger for my PowerBook because I was scatterbrained enough to leave the original one in the hotel in Ha Noi and without my computer is useless.

another day, still no internet

Now that I need the 'net to finally get around to making hotel/hostel reservations and find out about plane tickets, the internet is gone. It's been absent since Sunday and we're all missing it. Funny how you can be so dependent on something without realizing it.

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Sitting at the internet cafe and around me there are people watching Chinese films dubbed in Vietnamese; others playing Dance Dance Revolution-type games (hugely popular); boys are typing with their long slim fingers topped with nicely manicured, and very long, nails; and resting their hand on their friend's thigh; outside two girls walk by under umbrellas, holding hands. This is a familiar scene and one I hope never to forget. It's quintessential small-city Viet Nam to me.

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I'm pondering putting together some sort of photo book or essay book... just a print-on-demand thing to offer via Lulu or Cafepress. That sort of thing. A few people have suggested putting together some sort of memoir of our adventures (and looking back, we've had some doozies), but I haven't the faintest clue who would be interested in publishing it or why. So I'll likely go the POD route, unless someone else has a bright idea. If you are interested, send me an email and I'll let you know when it's done.


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That motorbike burn? Almost gone, but it itches like crazy! Luckily, no more injuries to report, though Stuart managed to get himself locked into a building and had someone point a pellet gun at him later the same day. Eek.

I haven't cried this much in years

When I decided we were coming to Viet Nam last December, part of the stipulation was that the kids would have a big say in when it was time to go. Little did I realize it would be so hard to leave.

Audrey, in particular, has had a difficult time here and while she says she's glad we came, she wants to go. And I promised we would go back for 4th grade, if she wanted and she does. So what's a mom to do? Break a promise?

Well, let me tell you, I tried to find any way I could to get out of the keeping the promise short of a flat-out "No. We're staying." And that didn't seem like the good-mom thing to do.

There are other issues, as well. Namely family pressures to come back. Audrey hasn't been eating as much as she needs to and has grown little (if any) since we left Tam Ky. Stuart's falling behind in schoolwork, despite threats of repeating 8th grade.

So, with a very heavy heart I told my dear students, that I, too, would be leaving them. I don't know that I have ever cried that hard in public and I had to do it in two classes in the same day. Last Monday will live on in infamy as the day I couldn't stop crying.


I dissolve into tears at the oddest times. When I'm scrubbing laundry. Or walking home from the market. Or making another dish of fried rice. Or writing this blog entry. My sadness about leaving pervades all I do and try as I might, I can't seem to get past it quite yet.

I had high hopes of coming back for another four to six weeks while the kids had a needed break in the States, but flights are too expensive to justify the trip. If I can find cheap flights, I'd be back here at the drop of a hat.

Guilt lingers over me and I feel like a failure. As a teacher. As a mother. As a woman. Against my strongest desires, I will take my kids back to America, to a life of food stamps and not enough time together. This saddens me in a way that few could understand.


Here, I have been happier than ever before. I love my job and I love my students. I love the simple life in Thanh Hoa. I 'm lucky that I can spend 20 hours a day with my kids and I can provide well for them. Unfortunately instead of using the money that I have worked so hard for to travel, as I had so hoped, I will spend every last dime to get them home.

But not without a bit of fun on the side. I did promise them Hong Kong Disneyland, as well.

My contract ends in two weeks. The end of this life, at least for now. We'll head off to Sa Pa, hopefully with some of my students joining us, then during the first week of July we will fly to Hong Kong, then visit our friends in Shenzhen before heading to Shanghai where we'll catch a tiny plane to Vancouver, B.C. We're hoping to get our legs under us again there and spend a couple of days in Canada before taking the train down to Portland, Oregon. Home, though it doesn't feel like it to me anymore.

So, while I mourn my loss, the kids eagerly await seeing friends and family. Our close quarters force me to be creative in my expression of sadness. It comes when I am alone. Or like now, as they are sleeping and I lie awake pondering our future.

How's the weather?

Funny how a subject that is supposed to be mundane and reserved for television news can be such a hot topic. Around here the weather is always talked about, even if it's only to remark on the incredible heat.

This morning Thanh and I discussed the recent thunderstorms and it seems that a house was hit on Sunday night. For some reason I hadn't even thought of it even being possible that the lightning would strike something, despite seeing it shoot straight down. From what he explained, most places are equipped with lightning rods to prevent injury and total destruction from the sky-riding electricity strikes. Guess it didn't work this time, but no injuries reported.

Again, the clouds have rolled in and the lightning has begun. Last night's storm was minimal so I'm not expecting much tonight (but who knows?). Maybe, just maybe the rain will hit hard and we'll again get to express our amazement at the storms here in Viet Nam.

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Our camera is fixed (thanks, Keith!) and will be on its way back to us on Sunday evening when the new Canadian teachers return from their jaunt to Ha Noi. We were supposed to be on that train, as well, but there were no seats and the only two bunks we could get were in completely different cars. So we stayed and they'll bring it back to us.

Until then: Audrey and her gargantuan carrot nose. The things are HUGE here, no doubt about it.....

from audrey

I wanted to make some friends here and by what people explained it as, it sounded really easy, but from my experiences, it's not.......at all.

My vietnamese teacher's little sister has friends so I thought I could meet them and be friends. It started out I had 2 friends. They would come over to my house and ask if I was free, so I said yes---and I was---so I would go with them and walk around Truong Dai Hoc Hong Duc, watching stuff, then I would get bored so I said I'm going home now.

The next time they came, they brought 3 more other people that I had no idea who they were, so we played then I went back, then the next time they came over, there were about 7 more people, and every time they came over, they'd bring more people. I wouldn't play with them anymore. Well, it seemed that my "friends" were just tricking me into meeting a whole bunch of people just so that they could see my white skin.

taxi ride

We returned to Thanh Hoa on Sunday night, smack in the middle of an incredible thunderstorm. It had been visible from the train and as we pulled into our local train station, it was clear that this was the epicenter. The rain poured down like someone had opened the floodgates and in the 20m (or so) dash to the taxi we got completely soaked. The taxi driver was kind and pulled out a warm towel for us to dry our arms and face off and turned on the air-con. The rain continued to pour and as we drove out toward the main streets, we could see that it had been raining for a while; the streets were flooding up from the gutter and over the curb.

As we drove toward the big Le Loi statue in the center of town, the driver took a right unexpectedly and I gave him the big "I'm confused. What are you doing?" look. He replied in Vietnamese, of course, and all I got out of it was nuoc (water) and mua (rain), so we did some pantomiming and figured out that the water was too high on the road for us to take it. But so was the next street and the next and a few more after that. He ended up pulling next to a bike that had stalled out to ask the woman if she knew the best way to Hong Duc (as least this is what we pieced together from the words Audrey could pick out). She pointed us further along the street we were on, so off we went.

Finally there was a road that wasn't flooded over, but as he turned he didn't see the concrete heap lying in the middle of the road. I did, but all I could do was make some gutteral yelps and it wasn't enough. We bumped into it. By this time, we're feeling a bit sorry for the chap, out here in the rain, having to drive all over town, banging up the car, etc.

We managed to wind our way around and suddenly I knew where we were again, heading straight up Le Lai toward the university. Stuart and I discussed the need for a tip for this guy, debating the numbers. As we got nearer, I used the easy-to-understand hand signals to show him how to get us around the back of the school where we could actually enter.

Our total was 41,000VND, about 10,000 more due to the circuitous route. We'd decided he deserved more than the 9,000VND tip that a 50,000VND bill would have left him, so I handed him a 100,000VND bill and waved off the change. He didn't quite understand, but with some more pointing between the meter, the money and him, he understood. The other almost 60,000VND was for him.

Forever I will prize the look of realization on his face. He was so happy he crossed cultural boundaries and gave me--clearly someone of the opposite sex--a big hug, then reached back to shake Stuart's hand. Then said the only thing in English we'd heard all night: "Thank you."

We all floated on a cushion of happiness for him for the next while and I'm still so happy I could help out. In the States, I'm so poor and can rarely help others out, even when I really want to. Usually I'm on the end of being helped and while I'm always grateful for the aid of others, it's so nice to be the one to offer it instead.

update

So the motorbike burn is doing a bit better after getting really big and blistered on Saturday. Ew! I went to the pharmacist in Ha Noi and bought some antibiotic cream, antibacterial cream and gauze bandages, then played doctor and lanced the blister before bandaging it up. Two days later, it's still quite painful, but seems to be healing well.

How did you burn the outside of your leg? you ask. Well, I bumped it while walking in the market. The lady was pushing the bike when it tapped my leg, not sure if she was trying to park it or just move it, but somehow it made contact with my flesh. I hobbled away fighting back tears. Man, that hurt. Left a nice sizzle mark to remind me just how un-fun it was.
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We are now camera-less and it's just one more thing to add to my pile of things-to-ponder-instead-of-sleeping. Somehow it got a bunch of sand in it and isn't working. We can still see the photos and I could download them, if the camera hadn't died before we got our computer adaptor back. We spent much of our weekend in Ha Noi trying to figure out where or how to get the camera fixed, but the language barrier was insurmountable and I ended up handing it over to Keith who'll try, with the help of his Vietnamese fiance, to get it figured out. Keep your fingers crossed that we can get it back in a week or so. I can't be without a camera for long.
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As Stuart says, we went to the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum on Sunday morning. We got there at about 7:15, then did a whole lot of waiting. We also got some shopping done for the relatives. It's hard to know what to get, but we managed to do some bartering and got a few things that we'll be shipping home soon. Audrey bought some sunglasses, too, since hers broke a while ago. We tried to find a pair for Stuart, but we couldn't find anything for less than $10US (yes, they quote prices in US dollars) and I'm just too cheap these days, so he's stuck with his old ones.
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I realized I have a strange attitude toward food now. The things that used to make me drool (figuratively) no longer hold much interest. Candy? Chai tea? Cake? Soda? I've given them all up and I couldn't care less if I ever have them again. It's a strange feeling for someone who's long had a sweet tooth. I'm thinking this a good change.
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Audrey has been asked by a girls' magazine to write an article about her experiences in Viet Nam, so we'll let you know if/when it gets published.

name that injury

banh da

One of Stuart's favorite snack is banh da. Made from rice flour, covered in sesame seeds and dried, they are then cooked over the little charcoal fire, making them puff a bit, for us at the market. Her fan was used for both the stir up the fire and to cool down her face. This particular seller is often very kind to us and can convince Stuart that he wants one almost every time. She was gracious enough to let me get her photo today and it's one of my new favorites.

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Thank you to everyone for your kind words, both here and via email, regarding my grandpa's death. I'm grateful for each and every message.

is it real or ....

We bought faux Legos at the supermarket a couple weeks ago. They were great! Totally Lego, but without the little embossed logo. Looks like Lego. Works like Lego. Costs nothing close to Legos. I paid less than 100,000VND ($6-7) for a big set with the police station, helicopter, motorcycle, shooting range, etc. Pretty darn cool and filled a gap in the playthings department. They are labeled as Enlighten Bricks.

The kids loved them so much, we went back a week later and bought a couple of smaller sets. This time we weren't so lucky. Despite having identical packaging, they were was a huge disparity in quality. The cop is the Enlighten Brick set and has the screenprinted face, solid body, moveable legs, etc. The red thing is from Brick. Oh my. It has a sticker face, sticker body, hollow legs, bits of plastic hanging off, doesn't move and it basically crud.

...
So, it was a waste of something like $3, but it was intriguing to see just how close the first are to Legos (I'm honestly thinking that they are made at the same factory, but not labeled) and how poor the quality is of the second, yet how nearly identical the packing is.

Kind of like when we accidentally bought Choco Bies instead of Choco Pies. The packaging are nearly twins, except for that extra hoop on the P, but the taste? Oh my, Choco Bies are horrifyingly bad.

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Getting sick again. I'm sure it's due to some subjects weighing heavily on my mind, but we'll discuss it later when I can do so without bawling.

Audrey's turn at the keyboard

Today it is friday the 18th of May, and today we did a lot of things. I mean, really the day isn't even close to over, 'cause its 12:10 at lunch. So, this morning, i woke up at 9:45 and i had some Frosties® from Ha Noi, then i waited for my vietnamese class to show up and i waited and waited and waited then at 10:20 they arrived and i brushed my hair quickly 'cause i forgot to do it before when i was waiting forever. We had our class and talked about legos-i have some because we bought it yesterday at the mall-then my class finished and mom asked me if i wanted to go to the market and i said ''nahh'' but about a quarter of a second later i said ''yeah actshully''.

So me and mom went to the market and first, we were walking by and a fruit seller yelled to us,''ay!'' and we looked and there, right in front of me about 7 feet away, were rambutans!!! i was SOOO happy. i haven't eaten a rambutan in about 3 months! i love that taste of yummy rambutans! so we got a huge bag of rambutans and the lady who sold them to us mumbled in vietnamese and pointed toword the pinapple. We thought that she was pointing to the peanuts right beside the pineapple (and the pineapple was behind the peanut stand) so i said to mom, ''i wonder if they're cooked'' and mom said ''i don't know, maybe''. Then after we bought the rambutans, mom saw the pineapple and we soon reolized that she was actshually pointing to the pineapple. Then we bought 2 pineapples and headed off to the vegitable\meat\fish area and we had bought potatoes, garlic and onion. Then we had seen at the stand we were buying at, right beside us were really really really un-ripe pineapple. They were SOOO green. I didn't want to think of how bad it would taste! uulgh!


Then we went over by the meat. We saw pork-everything. Pork-intestins, pork-feet, pork-tail,pork-snout, pork-ears, pork-face, pork-liver, pork-EVERYTHING! Then we had bought our meat and walked a bit, then we saw chicken eggs! yay! we usually eat duck eggs! i dont like duck eggs at all. I like chicken eggs way more than DuCk eggs! So we bought the chicken eggs and some rice and 2 coconuts. Then as we were walking mom's bag for the coconuts broke and we had to carry them by hand. when we were also still walking i said to mom ''weren't we suposed to buy water also?'' then we had an idea that we could come back later and get some.

thats what happened to day so far.

what is that sound?

It's the mating call of male cicadas.

For the last week or so, in the afternoon and in the evening, a very loud chirping instantly rises from a low background noise, to an overpowering song coming from the trees both in front and behind our room. Their lovely mating call gets loud enough at times that you have to raise your voice to be heard over it. Quite astonishing, actually.

The only thing I know about cicadas (ve ve) before today was that they come out every 17 years. Well, that's the American version, or one of them at least. According to my incredibly knowledgeable students, this cicada is the annual sounding for the beginning of summer.

According to Wikipedia, the male cicadas are the only ones to make this sound and in an unexpected way. Unlike crickets, these bugs use their bodies as a resonance chamber, controlling the sound with the muscles and can alter the tone by moving their bodies away from and toward the tree. Rumor has it, they can reach 106db. I don't doubt it.

I don't know how big they are; I haven't seen them yet. But I keep looking, though the sound sort of freaks me a little. What if they swarm? The sounds is amazing and it swells to a crescendo in mid-afternoon and later in the evening. Check out Stuart's recording.

Proof

For those of you who can't hear him scurrying around in the night, this morning we had visible proof of the rat's continued stalking of our family. He manage to chew through the bag, pull this piece of bread out, drag it off the table and halfway behind the refrigerator. He was all over the room last night, climbing on the wire to charge my cell phone (about 8 feet off the floor-don't ask why), knocking over bowls on the table and running over the computer printer and both desks. It was quite annoying and even my heavy sleep didn't keep me from noticing. At one point, Stuart heard it, too, and remarked at its new bravery. Before it had simply come in and hid behind the fridge chewing plastic.

But I think we solved the problem. And when I say 'we', I really mean Stuart.

He climbed onto the table in the kitchen (where the burners sit) and shimmied up onto the door (no knob for his feet). There he sat, straddling the top of the door and leaned forward pushing the slippery glass window shut. The rat's only entry, the window between room and kitchen/bathroom, has been blocked. The internet cable comes through that window, so it couldn't be completely shut, but the gap is now less than 1/4" and as much as I am shocked and amazed at the capacity of rodents to get into and through small spaces, I think this one is just a tad too small.

If it gets in now, with the door and window shut, and with cement walls.... Well, I'll be speechless.

water-free living

Running out of water has become an all too common occurence; five or six night a week our buiding runs dry after dinner. There's a limited amount of water to supply the entire dormitory and with the sunny (laundry-washing) weather, it's become a problem.

Today the problem was worse and the entire school seems to have no running water. It ran for a short while this morning, then without any explanation or warning, it was gone. All day long. Late this afternoon we noticed girls walking toward the gate carrying red buckets, then walking back within minutes--buckets filled to the brim. Aha! There's water somewhere. Audrey and I borrowed a red bucket from our neighbor and set off to find the water source.

It was this well, so I stuck the bucket in and scooped it up, dragged it home and poured it down the toilet (ew!), then we headed back for more to wash dishes.

Showers were impossible, so people made do with what they had. One girl was washing her hair using a smaller bucket and a wash tub. Later, when we went to the market for dinner, there was a whole pack of men standing in their gymn shorts, lathering up, then rinsing with buckets pulled from the well. Where's the camera when I need it?

the infamous dog meat

Yep, we ate it.

Last night, we joined one of my students as she celebrated her upcoming wedding (it was held today). As the Westerners, we were considered a good luck charm, but no one was too interested in our appearance. A nice change of pace. Immediately after arriving, we were ushered to a small table, with the ubiquitous plastic chairs, where we were served green tea.

Soon enough Hong directed us to another table were our food was set up: sticky rice, rice noodles, beef and greens, grilled dog meat and duck embryos. We partook of everything except the duck embryos; I simply cannot do that one. Surprisingly, the dog meat was pretty good. Stuart first tried the liver (unbeknownst to him that it was organ meat) and he wasn't impressed. "It doesn't taste." Audrey braved it next, even after being told it was liver, though she was a bit leery. She agreed--tasteless.

Tuat suggested we try the actual meat, not organ, and it was a hit. Audrey took a bite and surprised us all with "It's really good!" and took another bite. Stuart liked it, too, and after swallowing the bile that was rising in my throat, I took a small bite. Not bad, really. A little tough, but a good taste.

Wait, did I just write that?

After downing the infamous meat, we moved on to dessert--some watermelon slices. The kids and I are big watermelon fans, so they went down pretty quickly and Hong was nice enough to head to the yard and get us a fresh bunch of bananas. Right then and there, bananas off the tree. Pretty cool.

Then, it was time to move again, to the after-dinner stimulants. In the center of the table sat two plates-one with a pack of cigarettes, the other with betel nuts and their accompanying betel leaves rolled with powdered limestone. Betel nuts are peeled, combined with the leaf packets and stuffed into the side of the mouth where it is chewed, producing a lot of red saliva and a drunken feeling. I had no interest in trying it, though several people joined in. We just watched in awe, listening to the explanations of its addictive power, importance in the Vietnamese wedding traditions and its purported ability to prevent cavities (though no mention of the high incidence of oral cancer).

After another ten minutes or so, we were given a bag of cake desserts and the rest of the banana bunch and the group of seven of us headed back to the motorbikes for the drive home.

this little piggie went to market

Nearly every day we head over to the fresh market, across the street from the university. We've become familiar faces while the sellers have become familiar to us. Our knowledge of Vietnamese words for fruit are tested each time we visit the neighbor fruit ladies. They call out greeting and ask if I want xoai (mango), tao (apple), cam (orange) or any other fruit they have for sale. Some, I do not know the name or flavor, but I'm working up the bravery to try.

In the afternoon, the fishmongers show up with their tubs of more varieties of fish than I knew existed. Some are still alive and flip-flopping for attention. Others are left dead and whole, others (large tunas, it seems) are already cut into sections. There are, of course, loads of shrimp, squid, prawns, and small crabs. **Notice all the people looking at me taking their picture. We were even more of a draw with camera in hand.

We've been lucky and the pineapple lady has been there for the last few days. We just tell her how many pineapples we want; usually hai dua thom and she grabs a couple of ripe ones and cuts it up for us right there and then. She uses a big butcher knife to cut off the skin (is that what it's called on a pineapple?), then does this fancy little spiral cut around it to take out the "eyes" (right?). I've gotten pretty good at doing myself, but often I'm lazy and let her do it for me. I gotta be lazy sometimes.

And the vegetable are sold from at least a dozen little sellers, mostly selling the exact same thing: poatoes, onions, squash, garlic, carrots, and a few other unnameable vegetables. Today, a new one was found: stick-length green beans. I had no idea they could grow this long, nor can I figure out exactly how they do it, but do it they must. We saw them at several sellers, so it must be the season for gargantuan green beans.

And as we've only seen in Thanh Hoa.. the horse-drawn cart. On the opposite side of the road is the entrance to the market, complete with requisite booths and motorbike parking.

Die, rat, die!

Generally, I'm quite tolerant of animals, even if I'm not what you'd call an animal lover. But I've had enough of this rat. I first woke to hear its gnawing in the middle of the night a few weeks ago. The next day, I cleaned everything from behind and around the refrigerator, including what it had dragged under there. I made sure all dry crackers, cereal and snacks were tucked into the fridge to avoid any tempations in my room.

The next night I heard it again.

So, then I got smart and realized I had to keep the door to the bathroom/kitchen closed at night. There's nothing to keep the rat(s?) from coming in the open-metalwork window; the door had to be the dividing line between outside and in. I thought that would work.

And it does, most of the time. About once a week, it manages to slip in before I get the door shut for the night and I wake to its gnawing on some unidentifed object and struggle to sleep through the noise. Several times a week, I can hear it behind the door or see it run across the floor as I go into the bathroom/kitchen.

I've gotten quite fanatical about cleaning the kitchen area each night, wiping everything down with bleach water to get rid of any traces of food or food smells. I thought it might help, but I think I was wrong.

This morning, as Audrey grabbed the soap to wash her hands, she noticed something strange about it and asked me: "Mom, what happened to the soap?" To my bewildered amusement, I realized that the stupid rat had been snacking on our soap last night. Soap! Of all things to eat, why cleansing products?!

The cruel and frustrated part of me hopes that the soap does inreparable damage to the thing. Or at least convinces it that my room should be avoided.

Happy Birthday!

Birthday greetings to both my nephew, Alex, and my sister-in-law, Gaylynne!





P.S. Thanks to Hoang Anh, we were able to find a lovely little tennis raquet/mosquito killer. The thing's electrified and when you use the mosquito instead of a ball, it fries the little sucker. Whee! Who knew it could be so much fun to kill insects? It's Audrey's new favorite activity and I'm happy to encourage her. My legs thank her, too.

laundry list

In honor of National Hanging Out Day today, I will share my hard-earned lessons about doing laundry in an environmentally-friendly fashion:

• If you scrub hard enough, you'll get a blister. Scrub too hard and you'll end up with a bunch of them.
• Rinse, rinse rinse. Dirt and soap stay in the clothes well into the third rinse "cycle."
• Don't bother washing sweaters or jeans unless it's real warm. Or you prefer a three-day drying time and clothes that stink a bit.
• As soon as you see blue sky, start washing the laundry. Wait too long and you'll miss the sun shining on your side of the building.
• To get rid of that cardboard feeling of line-dried clothes, smack 'em around a bit. Take your frustration out on that stiff towel and it'll make drying off after the shower just a tad nicer.
• Wash that white t-shirt every time you wear it, despite the length of time it's on your non-sweaty body. Then rinse about ten times or it'll be grey in two short weeks.
• Don't wash the comforter unless it's real warm outside lest you find yourself sleeping without a blanket for a night or two.

The sun gods shone down on us today and I wasn't the only one hanging laundry outside my dorm room.