more pics

Got a bunch more uploaded to flickr, in case you're curious.

Ninh Binh

Despite the hour's wait for the taxi and witnessing yet another motorbike accident, we finally caught a bus and headed toward Ninh Binh to meet my friend Keith who was making his way down from Ha Noi. He'd been here almost exactly one year ago and was kind enough to show us the local attractions, along with his local friend Kien. The five of us spent Sunday and Monday seeing the sights around the area.

First we hit Hoa Lu, the ancient capitol of Viet Nam (968-1009 CE). It's surrounded by the limestone formations that dot the area around Ninh Binh, which proved to be a good defense against the Chinese invasions of the time.

Then we headed to Hang Mua, a cave (man-made, it seems) and an amazing view as a reward for the 463-step climb. I suggested they make those rises a little lower and up the number of steps, because dang, those were some steep stairs. Always a fun adventure for someone with a fear of heights. Eek. We had to step carefully to avoid the plentitude of fecal proof of the mountains goats that proliferate in the area.

So after all those stairs up, this is the view we got. I hate cliches, but honestly, it was breathtaking. The rain was coming in and it was amazing just to see so far out and around. It's refered to as the "Ha Long Bay in the Rice Fields" which is a pinpoint description. Beautiful.

After our descent we headed to Tam Coc, a one-hour boat ride through three caves, up and back. it's really beautiful, and worth the 55,000VND fee, but not super amazing. Audrey pouted and had to paddle, we got the hard sell and managed to get out with only buying 2 drinks and shrimp crackers. It was a relaxing bit for us alone while Keith and Kien had an afternoon nap.

We finished there, found the guys and headed to Bich Dong, a series of pagodas built up the mountainside. The second pagoda is an entrance to the cave and internal ascent to the third pagoda. The kids managed to trick me into climbing up the mountain--heart palpatations be damned. We followed the well-used hand and foot holds up the mountainside until it became clear that it wasn't so safe (the skull and crossbones were a good sign). Both kids wanted to venture off, but I was a cruel mother and made them head down to safety instead.

On the second day (today), we headed out to Phat Diem, a Christian enclave about 45km southwest of Ninh Binh. There are quite a few churches in the area, but there's a central complex that is the main tourist attraction. Somehow they merged Roman Catholic architecture with Asian architecture and it worked, even though it does seem odd to see a Christ statue in this land of Budda.

For lunch we stopped at a local restaurant and while I cannot give a glowing review of the food, I can say that the bottled body parts were quite intriguing. Snakes. Goat testicles. Cat feet. Really, who thought you could find this stuff next to your lunch table? Truly bizarre.

And the reason for my sunburned face and arms? I got to ride the motorbike! All by myself on the way and with Stuart as my passenger on the bumpy return ride. Interesting how doing the things that scare me really does make me less scared. I'd fretted about the bike ride, that I wanted so badly to do, for the past week... up until I'd been riding for about 2 minutes. Then all my panic just slipped away and I was sure I could do it. And I did.

Special thanks to Keith and Kien for making the holiday extra grand. We even got to catch up on "Heroes," a show we actually miss. I think we're actually one episode behind still, but we'll just hit iTunes for that.

Victory Day

It's a strange day to be an American as Vietnamese celebrate Victory Day. It was this date, in 1975, that the South Vietnamese capital of Saigon fell to Communist forces and the American troops fled. It's impossible to not feel a little befuddled by the whole war. I know such a limited amount, so I don't understand much beyond the simple ideas which makes it hard to make much contribution to any discussion. Except "I'm sorry so many people died."

off we go

We're heading out on the bus to Ninh Binh to vist Tam Coc and Phat Diem, if we're lucky. Gonna meet my friend Keith, which is great. So much easier with another adult and one who knows where he's going. Yea! Will post pictures when we return in a couple days.

Meanwhile, here are some more shots from the post-storm puddles to our trip to Sam Son to the kids just being goofs.

noon at Sam Som

It's been a long time since someone invited me to a hotel room in the middle of the day. Okay, it's actually never happened. So it came as a surprise when, on our excursion to the beach with my students, Tuan asked me (and my kids) to come with him to a hotel. Sure, why not. I motioned to the kids to come (palm down, four fingers beckoning) and they did, peppering me with questions, spoken quickly so he wouldn't understand: Where are we going? Some hotel. A hotel? That's what he said. Why? I don't know. For how long? I don't know that either.

We blindly followed him down two blocks to a building, unmarked apart from the numbers above the three doors interrupted by three large windows. We were given Room 106 by a woman (the owner?) and shown in by both her and Tuan. He assured me that we could rest, said something about three hours and promptly shut the door.

The kids turned to look at me perched haphazardly on the end of the twin bed nearest the door; them expecting some answers, me not having any. So I BSed a bit. Well, you know in Viet Nam everyone takes a nap after lunch, Tuan knows you are tired. I mean, come on Audrey, you fell asleep on the way here. We're all gonna rest and then we'll head down to the beach.

Neither of them were particularly excited about this plan of hanging out in a bare hotel room for the next hour or three, but there wasn't much to be done. I tried to get them to lie down. Stuart let out the hermit crabs he had pilfered from near the fisherman earlier in the day, allowing them to click-click across the tile floor. Audrey tried to rest, as did I, but the third person in the room just couldn't stay quiet. Until he went to use the bathroom and we quickly dozed off in the silence.
Our rest didn't last long. Making a grand entrance from the bathroom, Stuart explained all the intricacies of this particular bathroom. It stinks. The toilet doesn't flush. The sink only works when you turn the shower on. The toilet paper is wet. Another only-as-a-last-resort bathroom. It ended up being that for all of us.

After almost two hours of almost falling asleep, demanding quiet, begging for the whining to stop and pleading for the crabs to be put back, we moved outside the room, within earshot of the rest of our crew, and the kids sang songs, walked around, got a little stir-crazy and woke up everyone else with their antics. It didn't take long for everyone to don their swim clothes (short and tanks for men, jeans and long-sleeve shirts for women) and off we went, students, children and teacher-18 in all, down to where the water came onshore.

Sam Son, redux

So tired, but here are some photos from today's trip to Sam Son with the students from my morning class.

The painted "zebra"


The fishermen/women were cleaning their nets of small crabs, shells, and octopus babies.


Little wildflowers, perfect for pictures.

Audrey was so tired, she actually slept most of the way there.

Whoa.

"Scattered T-storms" is how weather.com reported it. I'd forgotten until a couple of lightening bolts lit up the sky. The thunder started and the kids came out to enjoy the show. Soon enough the mosquitos were feasting on our legs, so we moved indoors. But then the show got even better and we headed out once again. This is what it looked like between strikes.

And this is how it looked when it struck. If you look closely, you can even see the lightening bolt just above the building. Pretty cool, man. Pretty cool.


It's currently raining like I haven't seen in years and we're being serenaded by the sound of thunder grumbling and rain falling hard through the trees. Amazing.

Strange sighting of the day

A girl holding her hair up so it wouldn't get tangled in the spokes of the bike she was hitching a ride on. Probably a good idea considering the length and the extraordinary pain that would result from the hair/bike combo. Ouch!

Long hair seems to be particularly admired here. There are daily sighting of hair to the knees, but yesterday we saw a girl with hair that fell almost to her ankles.

tastes like home

I don't really know what being homesick feels like, but man, I missed french toast for breakfast. It hit me a couple days ago that I now had access to all the ingredients necessary for it, so yesterday I made sure that we had adequate supply of eggs, milk and the cutest little bread you've ever seen. We'd bought syrup and butter in Ha Noi, so it was good to go. After sleeping in a bit, i whipped it up and served it to my hungry munchkins along with hot Milo, mango and Asian pear slices.

Ah, home.

cleanin' up

So China's ramping up for the Olympics, polishing the veneer on a country with a reputation for ancient beauty. But it isn't all so lovely. It seems that the not-so-pretty aspects of the place are the ones that irk me about Vietnam.

Got something in your throat? Hawk it up--and out--as loudly as possible. Want to buy that? Just push yourself up to the front of the line crowd. Fidgety? Pick your nose. For a few minutes, if you'd like.

Vietnam has no reason to assume the social niceties of the Western world, but China, for the sake of national pride and (therefore) a spike in Olympic tourist dollars , most certainly does.

Jim Yardley writes about their efforts in his NYTimes article, I'd swear he was talking about this country: "Public spitting is a frequent practice in Beijing and even more common elsewhere in China. (The sinus-clearing, phlegmy pre-spit hawking sound is so common that one foreigner wryly dubbed it “the national anthem of China.”)"

--
Discussing ethnic foods in class today didn't help soothe my craving for Mexican food. Or Indian food. Or fondue. Man, oh man...

I did get a bit creative today though and we had Chicken Pot Pie, skillet-style:

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.

one of the perks

Living abroad has brought some interesting realizations and one of these would be that we really like the international feeling that comes from living in a small country that is not one's own. We've met people from Great Britain, Scotland, Denmark, Belgium, Russia, France, Japan, China, Korea, Australia and New Zealand. Some of our best memories are chatting with people from around the world in a language that is only our mother tongue. It's a strange feeling to realize we really are all connected and the world isn't quite as large as I'd once assumed.

The international aspect is exemplified in many ways, not the least of which is our food at the supermarket. Here's our cereal box: Zimtini's (a whole wheat version of Cinnamon Toast Crunch). There are 13 languages printed on the box, in addition to the attached sticker in Vietnamese. I only recognize about half the languages--German, English, Italian, French, Czech, Russian and Dutch. I think.

Virginia Tech

Because news travels fast these days, my afternoon (advanced) class spent an hour and a half discussing the horrifying events at Virginia Tech today. Several had already heard the news, the rest got filled in by me and the students in the know.

And what an interesting discussion we had. We discussed the numerous points of blame for this incidents (and the many others like it), placing the biggest responsibility on the gunman himself, but the students were quick to point out the factors that may have lead to his choice to commit mass murder: American culture's obsession with violence in movies, video games and on the evening news; the extreme amount of freedom that Americans have (which, they argued, can lead to unethical choices); the easy and legal access to guns; and to society's view on masculinity and how it is inextricably tied to violence.

It will be interesting to watch as this unfolds and the impact that it will have on my students getting ready to study abroad.

Sam Son

The view at Sam Son beach.
Cactus at the beach=Weird.

almost famous

If this sort of attention is anything similar to what it's like to be famous, count me (and the kids) out of the "I want to be famous" group. Not that I ever really wanted it anyway, but this concretes it. Everywhere we go, we are watched, pointed at, touched, yelled to and, occasionally, surrounded.

I felt like we were actors pulling up to the film premier when we arrived at Sam Son beach. We could barely open the door for all the people that swarmed the taxi. "Just push through," I told the kids, as we had to get out their side. The entire trek down to the water, I continued having to shoo people away, saying "Khong, cam on" so many times until it dissolved into an abrupt "Khong!"

The cameras had been pulled out and, yet again, people wanted to take photos of themselves with my kids, Audrey especially. But she's done her duty and at least a dozen or two people have photographs of them with some Western girl that they don't know. It's a bit creepy if I think too hard about all these people with photos of my daughter. So, again, I told them no, this time with no smile, no faux kindness, despite what all the "Living in Vietnam" books encourage. I just couldn't fake it anymore.

We were followed into the water, down the beach, up the rocks and back down again. After about 40 minutes, we seem to have lost novelty, but there were still momentary interludes, like when 15 (yes, I counted) Vietnamese adults stood pointing and watching my kids play in the waves. They stood there for at least 10 minutes, just staring, and I couldn't help but think Just stay there, kids. You're safer in the water.

When we went to eat dinner at a restaurant across the street, we were followed and had an audience to us ordering our food, waiting for it and I'm sure they'd have stayed to watch us eat, but we took a taxi home instead (which was good because the chicken wasn't even half-cooked!).

I just want to be anonymous for one day here. Just one. But it seems we're either seen as potential sales (in Ha Noi and Hoi An) or idyllic mutants (everywhere else). I understand in the big picture, really I do, but just once, it'd be nice to go somewhere and have no one notice our fair skin, light hair and Western noses.

Happy New Year, Laotian style

While the actual New Year began in December, Laotians wait until April to celebrate and we were lucky enough to be around when the celebrations began. The Laotian students here at Hong Duc are putting on quite a party; it began this morning around 9am and at close to 10pm, there's still loud music blasting. And today is just the beginning of a three-day celebration.

We were invited to join in and upon arrival, walking through the flower and balloon-strewn entrance, I had my neck doused with water from a large sprig of some plant or another. This would not be the first time I got wet. By the time I left, I'd water sprinkled, poured and over-sprayed onto me. I was wet down to my knees. We also got smacked with talcum-powdered hands, leaving traces of white on our hair and faces.

Other highlights included plenty of toasting with your drink of choice: juice, cola, beer or vodka. Plenty of food was spread around the tables, including sweets, fruits and those little meat things wrapped in banana leaves (someone help me with the name, please). The guys and girls danced beautifully with flowers in hand, sang traditional songs and just enjoyed themselves, despite the light drizzle that we had here (versus the hot, hot weather in Laos).

morning commute

This is the length of my commute to and from work. Not too shabby. I walk down two flights of stairs, down this sidewalk and into the building on the right. Almost like working from home. The dorms are all together in this area and the classes are held there, so every morning and every afternoon the proverbial flood gates open and students stream through to their classes. It's quite a sight when they're all holding umbrellas to shade from the afternoon sun.


And this is the building we live in: B5. It's five stories high and we live on the second floor, an easy skip up the stairs compared to living on the fifth floor at the hotel in Ha Noi. Our clothes get washed in the shower area, then hung out in front of our building on wires that stretch from pole to pole. On warm days, like yesterday, the buildings all seem to get covered in clothes hanging to dry.


And this is our messy room. We've got two this size, but 80% of the time the kids are in here. It's small and lacks any decoration, but that just has to wait until I get paid. Money's running real low these day. But the rooms are do-able. It's incredibly helpful just to have an outside to go to, a place to go for a walk without dodging motobikes and street-sellers. It's very basic, but it works.

Grocery shopping isn't quite the same.

In America, I could happily buy boneless, skinless, frozen chicken breasts. I could cook them up without ever thinking too much about it being a living thing at one time. Such is not the case here.

I finally found the chickens at the market yesterday afternoon, plucked bare, lying on their backs, feet stuck straight into the air. Next to them were the ducks, identifiable not by their feet, which had been chopped off already, but by the head still attached. I realized the chickens still had heads, too, and nearly chocked. Stuart mimed chopping his own head off and the lady seller quickly did the deed taking the feet off for me, as well.

I know, I know. I left the best parts behind, according to some.

So, now I've got a whole chicken in my fridge and I really don't know what to do with it. I'm guessing I can just boil the thing for a long time, then kind of pick it apart? Whatever, I'm making that meat last us for as long as possible so I don't have to do it again soon.

If only we loved fish, though! Since we are right by the beach, there's fresh seafood every day with probably 30 varieties of fish, plus crabs, squid, small rays, and loads of shrimp. But I'm clueless how to cook any of it. They do have big fillets of some fish or another that's already been grilled, so we're tempted to buy that and see what I can manage.

It's all a bit challenging, but I must say... we're getting better. Yesterday I managed to find flour, vinegar, cinnamon sticks (no effective means of pantomiming "ground cinnamon"), and a dustpan, in addition to our regular list of fruits and vegetables to buy. Give me another month and I'll be a pro.

---------

Still looking for a jump rope, 3-ring binders, blank paper, a frisbee, ground cinnamon, cumin and a rolling pin. Where's the One-Stop Shopping when I need it? :)

Happy Easter to the States

It's the day after here, but as I sit here in Ha Noi, my family is sitting around the dinner table consuming all sorts of delicious favorites of mine: ham, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, fresh veggies, mashed potatoes. Good stuff. I almost bought a canned ham yesterday, just because, but knew that it's $10 price tag wouldn't be justifed. So we had ribs and nachos for Easter dinner.

It's our first real holiday away from family and while it isn't terrible, there are things to miss. Audrey wants to have an Easter egg hunt in Thanh Hoa, so I'll be trying to make that happen.. just a couple of days late.

I miss those Whopper egg candies. Y'know.. the ones that tear up the roof of your mouth. Yeah, those. I love 'em.

Back to work today, after (hopefully) getting my bank card (the bank wasn't open Saturday morning as planned) and heading back on the hard seats in the train. No comfort there, but what can we expect for 40,000VND (less than $3). Crazy thing is.. I paid as much for that 3-hour train ride as I did for the taxi to get to the train station.

more pics

We're in Ha Noi this weekend (I had to teach my last classes today) and the internet connection is good, so I uploaded some more photos from our month in Ha Noi. There are shots from the Museum of Ethnology, the Children's Park and around Ha Noi.

names

Names are a funny thing; I'm a pretty firm believer in them. If you want to change your name, I'll try my best to remember and call you by the new one. (Right, Marcella?) But if you want to adopt a kid from a foreign country and want to change her/his name, I'm not so hip on that one. I might use the new name. Sometimes.

Name-changing happens all the time and with the numbers of children that we have seen with Western folks lately, the sheer volume of children being adopted out of Viet Nam is staggering. Just yesterday, we saw at least 8 children, 4 of them babies. Most, if not all, of them have new names, I'm quite sure. I've stopped and talked with quite a few of the adoptive parents I've seen, compelled by our work at the orphanages in Tam Ky, and when asked for the child's name, all have given me Western names. Often prefaced by, "We've named him... " But he had a name.

Why does everything that the kid ever knew have to change? New people, new home, new foods, new clothes. Let the kid keep something, something that makes her who she is. If people find it a difficult name to pronounce, so be it. Let her decide when she's 6 and wants to be called Sarah, that you'll do it. Or maybe she doesn't care if Thuong is difficult for Westerners. It's still her name.

I didn't care about this sort of thing before. Now, it sits near the forefront of my thought.

My classes at Hong Duc University were given Western names by the last teacher. There's Avery, Emma, Diego, Marguerite, Jenny, Victoria, Stephanie, etc. Oh yeah, and Skywalker. 46 names in all. The intermediate class, when asked, wanted to be called by their real names, their hard-for-me-to-pronounce Vietnamese names. I can't say but a couple of them correctly. They are close enough to correct that they understand what I mean. Just as I respond to Talisa and Audrey gets called Andree and Stuart has learned to turn when he hears "Stut."

But there are some of the students who want to be called by their Western names and, for some reason, I have the hardest time doing so. Skywalker, in particular, wants me to use that name instead of Tung. But I can't say it without laughing, so it's a half-and-half sort of thing with his name. Now I'm trying to memorize two names for everyone because I can't keep it straight, who wants to be called what.

I'd like to get past the pointing (though not with just one finger!) and call them all by their choice of name. I've got about half of them down now. Give me another week for the rest, then I'll start trying to match Vietnamese with their assigned Western names. But only if they request it. Otherwise, their real name is quite good enough for me.

Ha Long Bay

I added some photos to flickr from our trip last weekend to Ha Long Bay. Enjoy.

birthday and dinner

Happy birthday to my dear friend, Keith. I may be getting old, but you're always a bit older. ;) Last year I could not celebrate with him because he was in Viet Nam and I was in the States. This year I cannot join for a birthday celebration because, although we are in the same country, we are now living three hours apart. At least he knows I care.

The kids and I made our daily trek to the market again this evening to pick up some potatoes and onions. We still can't find chicken. I've found the live ones, but I can't bear to say "kill that one" or, god forbid, kill and pluck it myself. So we're on a vegetarian diet. (Big surprise, eh, Mom?)

For some reason, the food stalls used to scare me a bit. Not that the food would make me sick or some such thing. Really it is because of my very limited Vietnamese skills. I didn't know how to order or what to do at all, so I just avoided them. Today we got brave and ate at a little stand at the market. Audrey got a dish of bún chả (rice noodles with grilled meat), while Stuart and I both got phở gà (noodle soup with chicken). It was delicious; I didn't have to cook and, best of all, it cost ONE dollar. For all three of us. Ah, the joy of being in a small city.

In Hà Nội, I was happy when I could get a meal for the three of us for less than 100,000đ.
Here, I paid 16,000đ for more food than we could eat.

Thanh Hoa, after the sunrise

I think things will work out okay here. Sunday night was just overwhelming, but the sun rose again and thinigs looked better..

My schedule is 7-9am and 1-3pm, teaching intermediate in the morning and upper intermediate in the afternoon. There are almost 50 students all together, though I've missed a few in each class. A little frustrating, so hopefully I can get them to all come all the time. I was supplied only the textbooks and CDs, so I'll have to get some other things to use as supplements the lessons. They seemed to like me okay, so that's good news.

Our home consists of two dorm rooms: one with twin beds for the kids and one with a queen bed for me. Their room has a wardrobe, desk and coffee table, plus what they term "a bathroom." Really it two half-tiled shower stalls: one with a toilet and one with a shower head. My room has the same, plus a stovetop just outside the shower stalls. I also have a refrigerator and a dining table. It'd do-able.

There's no washing machine, so laundry is done by hand still. I got a bit lazy at the hotel and farmed it out the last few times (at $1/kg I felt justified). We're back to it and I've got the blisters (again) to prove it. I think I'll wait a couple of days until I do more. Let these wounds heal.

Mosquito nets are, again, the norm, as are mosquito bites. The market is just outside the university and the supermarket is about 2 km away (almost a mile). Yesterday one of the students came with me to the supermarket to show me where and today I returned to buy sheets and towels. Must. Shower. Today.

Yesterday afternoon, I met up with the head of the English Dept and the Vice-Director (Vice-President) of Hong Duc University. He made me introduce myself in Vietnamese, but all I can say is "My name is Teresa. I am 36 years old. I love pineapple. I like Thanh Hoa." Pretty lame.

But, yeah, I do like Thanh Hoa. Except for some minor glitches, it's going pretty well.

Thanh Hoa

We made it and that's about all I'm saying right now. I'm still in a bit of shock and it's testing every bit of my "look at the bright side" attitude. The good news is that we have 3 beds and 2 rooms. We won't go into the bad news yet. Let's wait for sun-up and see how it looks then.