Just the little stuff.....

Forgot to mention that Stuart actually ate one of the infamous fertilized eggs. Okay, he took a bite. Just one. For those horrified by the idea, I've left the picture off. For those who want proof, click on over to flickr.
---

Being housed in the University's so-called guest house dormitory, everyone knows where we are. This brings about more than a few visitors, some who simply walk by while staring intently into our room, only to notice the gate less than 3 meters in front of them. Lucky for them, they get to turn around, walk slowly by and stare in again. It's like having a constantly changing cast of Peeping Tom's.

Others get brave and just knock on my door or invite themselves in. Like the drunk fellows who showed up a couple nights ago, Becky was over and they just came into my room. "Can we speak to you for a minute? I want to practice my English." I didn't have much choice since he was already in and heading toward my bed to sit down. Fine, I sighed and resigned myself to

another exchange about the same ol' things.

"You have two children?"
"Yep, there they are," I answer gesturing at the two of them staring at me
wondering: who are these men?
"Where is your husband?"
"I don't have
one."
"I don't believe you."
"Okay. But it's true. I'm not married. No
husband."
"I do not believe you." Pause. "You have children. You
must have husband."
"No, I don't."
"But you are wearing rings. Only wear
rings if married."
Funny thing is, I'm not wearing a ring on my wedding
ring finger. I wear a ring made from a baby fork on my right index and two
silver bands on my right ring finger and one on my middle left.
"No, I just
like rings. I don't have a husband."
"Hmm." Pause. "What do you eat for breakfast?"

From our discussion, I learned that the white bread we eat and the milk we drink is what keeps our skin white. Actually, to his utter disbelief, I'm pretty sure that the color of my food does not equal the color of my skin. You are what eat means something entirely different.

I know that may come as a shock to some, but I pretty sure science will back me up on this one.
----

Speaking of white and delightsome, a woman was kind enough to inform me yesterday that I am ugly and dark. I've been eagerly awaiting this day, to be honest. No longer are women clamoring to touch my arms or my kids' arms. We've darkened up, lost our so-called beauty and it makes me so happy. The fascination with pale skin horrifies me, quite honestly. Sure, the girl in me wants to be pretty, but when it's based on something as superificial as the pigment of my skin? No thank you. I'll be "ugly" any day.
----

We saw a shirt at the market that said "I pray like a girl." I'm assuming it meant to say "I play like a girl," but either way I'm not quite sure what it means.
----

And in the good news dept.: I got another package from my folks with another school book for the kids and a bunch of little snacks. Yum! Cheez-Its and those Sweet-N-Salty bars. Even though they don't suit our taste buds like they used to, it still is so nice to get a taste of "home." Best thing in the package? Jiffy-Pop popcorn. Oh yeah. Now that's a treat. Thanks Mom and Dad.
----

And in the sad news dept.: My grandfather is dying, quite literally. We're all hoping he'll go soon as he's in a lot of pain and simply miserable. But while I want him to go painlessly and easily, I don't really want him to go at all. And mostly, I feel bad that I cannot say good bye in person.
----

Life. What a crazy thing it is.

back to work after our visit to Tam Ky

After a grueling 17-hour train ride from Tam Ky, we are back in Thanh Hoa. It was an exhausting weekend both emotionally and physically (though not from exertion, but from the heat and boredom).

We arrived in Tam Ky on Friday afternoon in the heat of the day and, as is often the case for us, there was no taxi to be seen. I called Yen, but she didn't answer, so we set off on foot. The three of us dragging two suitcases, three backpacks, a bag of rambutans and two cases of building blocks. In 38C (100F) weather. Down the main streets of town.

Luckily for the kids, Yen had seen my call and headed toward the train station. Being quite the caravan, we were hard to miss. She pulled over and loaded the kids, their backpacks, and the suitcase onto the motorbike. Stuart held onto the building blocks and the three of them took off, while I hoofed it the remaining half-mile to the volunteer house with backpack and suitcase in tow.

It was perfect timing for the Baby Orphanage, so after gulping down a few glasses of water and introductions between new and old volunteers, we all piled into the new-to-GVN mini-van and headed toward the children's orphanage to get Han, a young orphan who lives at the hospital Monday through Friday in order to get physical therapy. As soon as we arrived, my kids jumped right out and headed to her room. Stuart got to her first and was quite happy to carry her back to the van, where I held her for our ride to the orphanage.

Upon our arrival, I was hoping to be greeted by a sea of smiling faces, but the look was one of shock, instead. Not one of the kids would smile at me. It was bitterly disappointing as I love these kids and would do nearly anything for them. I understand, though, that, one-it's been three months since we left and two-I ditched on them. My favorite, Lan, was obviously angry and refused to give me second glance.

Stuart, on the other hand, was mobbed once again on arriving. Not one of the boys had forgotten about him or was the slightest bit upset. They just wanted another one of piggyback rides. Unfortunately, the stifling heat kept us all from playing as hard as we'd have liked, but Stuart gave it a valiant effort and just ran a tad bit slower than usual.

Audrey ran straight for Kieu, but it was a look of indifference that greeted her causing her heart to sink a bit. She took it fairly gracefully and visited with some of the other children and especially the babies (whose rejection one can never really take personally). Later she gave it another shot and Kieu was nicer, though their tight bond has been, sadly, broken.

After we'd been there about 15 minutes, Mr. Nguyen (commonly referred to by his wife's name.. Mr. Hanh) brought in the suitcase. The kids obviously knew there was something in there for them and crowded around as I tried to unzip it. But before I could get it open and start passing things around, the kids had ripped it open and were climbing over each other, grabbing and pulling things out of the suitcase. I tried to pull them off the little ones being smashed at the bottom of the kid pile, but it took two "mothers" stepping in and yelling at them in Vietnamese before I could get them off enough to zip the bag shut again. The clothes, toys and puzzles were taken to the baby room where the mothers handed the clothes out later. The toys and puzzles were to be put in the toy closet for later use.

We pulled out the jellies (little gelatin sticks) and tried to fairly disperse them, attempting to remember each face as I handed them out, double-checking the other hand to make sure they weren't coming back for seconds before everyone had firsts (which more than a few tried). With the help of one of the mothers, we got them all passed out, though I'm sure there were some who managed to get two when they shouldn't have. But at least everyone got one.

By this point, I was overwhelmed both emotionally and physically and decided to go outside to take a few minutes alone. I realized that my affection for the kids is not reciprocated as I'd thought. We were simply the bearer of gifts and that was the only reason they came to me; they wanted what I had. It was quite a miserable few moments for me as I collected myself and moved back in to play with the little ones, despite my frustration.

Lan had been watching me; I could see her to the side. After sitting on the steps she came up behind the pole in a sort of peek-a-boo game, but without any hint of a smile. It took a while of reaching for her, teasing her and laughing before she loosened up and laughed with me. It was exactly what I needed--to know that she didn't hate me after all, she was just angry at me.

And for a valid reason. We had become pals and then I had just left. And now, I come back to spoil her for a day. Then, like a hypocrite, I leave once more. I tried to find off the guilt, but it sat with me the whole time. She had trusted me once and I'd failed her and now I was here to do it again. It still tears at me emotionally and I hope that our efforts have done more good than harm. I know it hasn't been harmless and that makes me so very sad.

We did have a good time together--Lan, her sister and me. We played chase and the girls nearly kissed me to death at one point. She'd forgiven me for the time being and I basked in their giggles and wide smiles.

The kids, both mine and the orphans, did seem to have a good time in the end, after a few stumbling steps at the beginning. They just wanted to be chased and have their photographs taken and throw toys around. In ways everything was exactly as we'd left, but things were so different as well. Not the least of which was a huge influx of Hill Tribe kids. Not sure why there was a large group of them at once. Did they come from another orphanage? Did a group just decide to get rid of their kids? Was there a bad accident and they were actually orphaned? Who knows. No one seemed to have any idea, just knew that they were here and needed clothes and shoes and toys.

I hadn't realized there were so many kids that were older, so I'd bought more in the sizes 1-4 range. Adorable little outfits plus pants, shirts, and shorts. Kieu and Thu both got the Sam Son outfits. Though they won't know, or care, why they have Sam Son written on their shirts, it makes me feel a tad closer to them. That's "our" beach and now they've got souvenirs from there. The shorts/top outfits seemed perfect for the summer heat, as well. I hope that's true because they were really cute.

For the kids who didn't get anything (because I didn't buy enough in the bigger sizes), I left money with Yen to buy them some clothes from the local market. Hopefully that will happen within the week, so they don't feel too left out. I felt really terrible, but the last time there had only been a few older kids and now there's a dozen or more.

Before switching into their new clothes, the kids showered and though I can't show you photos, I must say they were so cute and so funny running around half- and fully naked dumping water over each other, scrubbing down and rinsing again. I couldn't help but laugh.

After an hour and a half, it was time to leave and we headed back to the Tam Ky house. The remainder of the trip continued to go awry, but we had some fun, as well. We visited Phu Ninh again with Lisa and Naomi, two other GVN volunteers, and the kids had a good time splashing around, though we were shocked to see how low the water had gotten in only a few months. It was at least 6 feet below where it was on our first visit (seriously! check out the photos). I managed to get a bit sunburned (ah, the lovely blistered shoulders!), but the kids only got a slight blush thanks to the sunscreen.

Otherwise we did a lot of laying around, managing to screw up my bank account, eating fruit and hanging out alone. It was an odd trip; everything was so much the same and yet everything was different. A strange trip indeed.

------

THANK YOU to everyone who donated money to bring the clothes, toys, books, puzzles, and jellies down to the kids in Tam Ky. If you would like to help out, please contact Children of Vietnam, a group that has twice-early trips to the area to bring donations. And they are always needed. Medicines, formula, clothes, blankets, sweaters, shoes, socks, etc. can always be used and everyone is grateful for the help.

deep breaths

So, we're still in Tam Ky, but thanks to the unflappable Mrs Hanh, we managed to get the money to take the train home this afternoon (Sunday). The plan (though we know how well those work for me) is to catch the 3:30pm train, arriving in Thanh Hoa tomorrow at 8:30am. Keep your fingers crossed it works. We are stuck at the volunteer house alone. Everyone else went to My Lai/Quang Ngai.

I did get some work done on my new web site, so I guess that's good. And Mrs. Hanh took me to buy peanut butter and jelly since I couldn't find it in Thanh Hoa. Some progress, but booooooring.

At least we got to see the kids and give them things they need. We also gave some of our cash over to the volunteers here who had done some fundraising and are buying meds of all sorts for the orphanage. Very good cause.

So thank you to everyone who gave us money to get stuff for the kids, it went to good use and I'm happy to have been the conduit, even if it didn't come off so smoothly. I will post pics (and a video) on Monday.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Our plans for Tam Ky have gone so completely awry, that I'm not even sure where to begin. Do I begin with the situation now? Or what happened Thursday? Let's just say that anything that could go wrong has.

There were no sleepers on the afternoon train. So we had to take the train leaving at 10:30. We visited the Baby Orphanage, but didn't have enough clothes for the older kids and there was practically a fist fight over the kitchen toys. I got a terrible sunburn at Phu Ninh. We didn't manage to get to the market here. Finally remembered to go to the ATM and my card didn't work... no big deal, I'll go to my actual bank (Vietcombank). Oh no, that didn't work either.

So now we are stuck in Tam Ky with less than $10 to my name. I can't go to the bank until Monday, then we can catch the train that afternoon if that works (which is should, but who knows what "invalid card" means). So we should arrive back in Thanh Hoa on Tuesday evening. Oh. My.

For my students who read this... my apologies. I will be back as soon as possible.

And I've learned a valuable lesson. Never leave home trusting you can access the ATM anywhere else. -sigh-

mother nature

It was a beautiful afternoon for the beach, but Stuart wasn't feeling well and decided to stay home. So Audrey, Dung (my co-teacher), Ettie and Becky (the British teachers), and I headed off to Sam Son without him.

The beach was more crowded that I had seen before, full of umbrellas, kite sellers and people of all ages. We set up our spot randomly and I hung back to watch our stuff (a good excuse for 'fat girl syndrome'). I ended up moving twice as the tide came in, licking at our bags before I noticed its approach.

The others played while I read and a couple of hours passed fairly quickly before I noticed the sky darken a bit. Then I saw the sky behind us and the enormous cloud that looked more like something out of "Independence Day" than a natural formation. I checked the time and notice that Stuart had called. Three times.

Maternal instinct kicked in and I knew something was wrong, so I immediately called him. The phone rang and rang and rang, my panic increasing with each unanswered ring. Finally he picked up. "What's up, buddy?" I asked, but before he could answer I could hear the thunder behind him. He was caught in middle of a massive thunderstorm, alone.

I assured him we'd be home soon, piling our stuff together as we spoke. "Come back soon." The lifeguard had signaled with his red warning flag and whistle that everyone was to get out of the water. Now. As we put shoes on and began our sprint off the beach, it was impossible to ignore the sudden darkness and the ominous clouds that were covering us at breakneck speed.

I snapped one more photo and we headed for the taxi, but realized as we got closer that it was simply a white car, not a taxi after all. So here we stood in the pouring rain, wind whipping and not a taxi to be seen. In fact, the streets, sidewalk and beach had been instantaneously deserted. We tried to phone the taxi, but my mobile wouldn't work. So Dung did what one does here, I suppose, she started flagging down cars.

Maybe it was our sorry looking state, but the third car that came by took sympathy on us and we quickly piled in to his SUV (in Vietnam?). Come to find out, the driver is a friend of the University president. What luck! We drove home, watching with more than a little worry in my head and heart as the lightning bolts ran from as far up as we could see, all the way to the ground. Strike after strike, followed each time by the deep roar of thunder.

By the time we reached the campus, the worst of the storm was over, evidenced by the limbs strewn about and the enormous puddles we trudged through to get upstairs to our room, where Stuart sat, safe and sound, eating instant noodles and watching Spongebob on DVD.

multicultural

One of the most astonishing things for us to learn here has been how isolated we are in America. It's rare when you hear someone speaking a language that is not your own. It's English, all day every day with nary an accent to be heard. Opportunities are scarce to meet Germans, Russians, Swedes, Thai or any other nationality, save Canadian and Mexican.

Then we compare that experience to Viet Nam where we have met people of those nationalities and many more. It's common to be in a room with three or more countries represented, often speaking the same language: English. It's a trippy experience for three novice travelers.

And then I look at the "visitor map" on my stats page and I see this; for some reason, it makes me terribly happy.
Even my blog is multicultural. Yea! Thanks everyone! I'm in awe that so many read it on a repeat basis. Could my life be that interesting? I can scarcely to get family to look at it but once a month and yet, there are all these other people keeping up with it all. Leaves me a little speechless (though not completely, as my classes would tell you--I can't seem to shut up most of the time!). Thanks. Really.

let the buying begin

The three of us caught a taxi down to the mall, as Audrey calls it. Really it's a half-empty shopping center with a grocery, book store and clothes shop on the second floor. It happens to be one of the two places in town I can ask the taxi to go to and they actually understand(the other is home-Hong Duc University). I took along a bunch of cash and we picked and chose among the limited amount of toys, looking for things that the kids would like, at both the Tam Ky Baby Orphanage and also at the Home of Affection. We got building blocks, cars, dolls,and stuffed animals for the Baby Orphanage and a bunch of books and puzzles for the HofA kids. We scored pretty well and ended up spending about $50. I'm sure the woman at the shop thought my children were the most spoiled children in the world.

Tomorrow, it will be clothes shopping. Whee!

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.

Banyan Trees by Stuart

The link didn't seem to be working well for anyone but me, so here's the brief report, copied and pasted:
The banyan tree is a type of fig that started in India. It grows in hot and wet climates such as Florida, China, India and South East Asia.

There are a few interesting things about the banyan tree.

One unique thing about the banyan is that it grows on other trees. It is grows onto other trees and kills them and that’s why it’s also called a “strangler fig”.

The banyan starts growing by being seeded by birds. The birds who eat the fruit of the banyan deposit the tree’s seeds onto other kinds of trees. Soon the banyan begins to grow onto the “host’ tree and eventually kills the tree. In only a few years the banyan takes the place of the old tree.

The banyan tree doesn’t need soil to grow, instead it fuses its aerial roots into the bark of the “host” tree. Overtime it completely covers the tree from top to bottom and eventually kills it.

If you pass by a banyan try and look for the original tree inside. It will look black and rotten.

Eventually the banyan becomes an independent tree as the as the host tree will completely rot away. This makes for some very odd looking trees (see photo below)

Also if there are any nearby trees it will grow onto those trees, making a very large chain of connected trees.


The name “banyan” comes from merchants in India called “banias” who used to discussed business under the shade of the fig trees which are now called banyan trees.

The way the banyan tree reproduces is through a special kind of pollination.

The pollination is special because it requires two different flowers (both from the banyan) and two different species of wasps to pollinate the tree. Each wasp takes the pollen from their respective flowers and move to the other wasp’s flowers. Eventually they grow into fig fruits which are eaten by birds, squirrels, and other small animals who live in the trees.


The banyan tree is found almost anywhere in Vietnam. From Hanoi, Phat Diem,and Hoi An to Da Nang, Tam Ky, and Hue you will see the banyan wherever you go.

Links:
Wikipedia: Banyan Trees
Plant Cultures: Banyan Trees
Natural History Guide
Stranglers and Banyans

---------
Finally got around to fixing and then uploading Stuart's webpage on Banyan Trees. It's simple, but fairly informative. Check it out.

cicada "shell"

Stuart noticed it on the tree, just sitting there like the ghost of a resting cicada. Nearby, a small round hole in the dirt marked its entrance to above ground life (just like Wikipedia had told me would happen!).

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.

non

Mr. Spooky finally got a cone hat.

ketchup

This whole week I've been tired. Twice I've dipped into my reserves of NoDoz to force my eyes to stay open, feigning awarness, through the afternoon class. It's not that I've got insomnia like I have so many times before. Now I sleep like a rock. When I can finally get to bed, which is about as comfortable as a stone tablet, I crash. In a matter of minutes, despite my worst fears usually, I'm asleep before I realize how tired I actually am.

We stayed up after the party on Friday until about midnight, the new norm for bedtime, but the train schedule didn't allow us to sleep in. Against our will, we rose bright and early and headed via taxi to the train station. Catching the taxi was quite a matter of luck, too, since when we first emerged from the universtiy gates, there wasn't a taxi in sight. I suggested we wait a few minutes and see if one shows up and Stuart countered with a suggestion that we go get one of his favorite snacks--large tortilla-looking rice cakes with sesame seeds, freshly toasted over an open fire. I couldn't reasonably argue with him. "No, let's just stand here fighting off xe oms and being stared at. That waaaay more fun."

We picked up the sesame seed/rice/tortilla thing at the market and as we crossed back over to the univerisity side of Le Lai, a taxi was coming down the street. So in the middle of the traffic, I start waving my arm and call out "Ta-xi!" He stopped, we piled in and off we went to Ga Thanh Hoa, the local train station.

I caught a few winks on the train. So did both kids, thankfully. But I kept jerking myself awake by the horribly embarrassing head-drop thing. You know, the one where your head suddenly loses balance and falls sharply to one side, startling you awake. Gosh, I hate that. It kept happening though, so finally I just gave up. The kids could lie down; Stuart had two seats to himself and Audrey laid lain lied rested her head on my lap. I sat upright facing a kindly old man missing most of his teeth.

After arriving in Ha Noi, we caught a taxi to one of our favorites: Ciao Cafe where we had birthday lunch. It was my birthday and I wanted something extra good.... Chicken Cordon Bleu with honey-mustard sauce and blanched vegetables. I shared with Audrey to keep the costs, and my weight, down while Stuart ate a big, sloppy cheeseburger. Ah... Western food never tasted so good.

The afternoon was spent buying books for my students and for the kids in Tam Ky and for our adopted friends in the U.S., napping (thanks, kids!) and figuring out that the two people I needed to contact to make plans for the weekend couldn't get any messages from me; I'd ran out of credit on my phone. Since, by then, it was too late to have dinner with either friend, I laid lay assumed a horizontal position on the bed and began reading. But just like the other stone tablet (aka bed) as soon as my head was close enough to rest on the thing, I was asleep. Stuart and Audrey caught up on all the satellite channels we're missing in Thanh Hoa, watching a little National Geograhic, then Disney Channel, then HBO, then Animal Planet and anything else that looked interesting. I slept for 2 hours.

We caught a late dinner at Pepperoni's; this time Audrey and I sharing lasagna, Stuart ate BBQ chicken pizza and we all shared some potato wedges with sour cream. Mmm.
(None of us had truly understood how much we missed good food. Not necessarily Western food, just good food. I can come up with about a half dozen meals a week that are really good, but otherwise, we mostly eat to survive. I realize how hard it is for the kids, how much they miss actually enjoying their food so I've got to figure out a way to cook more varied items. The guilt associated with the realization is pretty substantial actually. Tear-inducing, to be honest.)

When we got back to the hotel, we hauled ourselves up the stairs and crashed within the first hour of "King Kong," but I woke up at 5:30 a.m. pretty refreshed and feeling not-so-tired, a wonderful change to the do-I-have-to-stay-awake feeling that haunted me all last week.

The big 3-7

Some photos from tonight's birthday party, attended by students from both classes, my co-teacher and the other volunteer teachers from Britain. We had a great time, eating cake, sinh to (recipe to come), jellies, french fries and durian ice cream. Okay, so I had the chocolate ice cream. :) I got three scarves for my hair and Audrey made me a sweet card and a hand-sewn purse (from an extra pillowcase). A very nice birthday, indeed.

Cám ơn!

I am often awestruck by the generosity of others. When I express this amazement that people will so freely give money to help others, some will tell me how my children and I have been generous, as well. But I feel like volunteering my time and effort is so easy, so simple. I've never had enough money to donate much (though I've done what I could, when I could). I feel frustrated by my lack of helping financially, so I asked for help and you, my dear readers, have answered.

I set a goal of reaching $500 in donations before heading back down to Tam Ky and I'm quite happy to say that we are almost there. I'm incredibly grateful for all the gifts--the $5 contribution and the $200. Now that we are close to the goal, we've decided to come up with a shopping list. Audrey's started one, including hole-free blankets, diaper cream, jackets with zippers that work, new kitchen toys, etc. It's been fun thinking about all the things we can give them... thanks to your generosity. We'll also be giving cash to the volunteer coordinator to buy fruit for the orphans, every day for a month.

Our travel plans are to head to Ha Noi this weekend and celebrate my birthday by shopping for the orphans, then bringing the loot back to Thanh Hoa. We will head down to Tam Ky the next weekend. I'll have to take one day off; it's a 15-hour train ride each way so we can't possibly go down on Saturday and come back on Sunday.

I cannot wait to see the orphans again. I miss those kids so much, their laughs, singing and silly antics. The countdown is on and I'm so incredibly grateful for all your help. If you want to donate cash to the orphanage fund or donate items to the orphanage itself, please feel free to contact me [donateATteresaandkidsDOTcom]. You can also donate to Children of Vietnam, a US-based non-profit that helps kids twice a year in the central Viet Nam area, including the Tam Ky orphans.

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?

generation gap

Audrey asked today whether I wanted her to write her report on Vietnam in cursive or Helvetica.

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.

so we're a little late

We finally got around to buying a bunch of eggs to hard boil and decorate. Audrey did the honors in decorating and we had our Easter egg hunt yesterday afternoon in our dorm rooms and on the walkways of our building.


Note: Teresa is an anagram for Easter. How cool is that?!

it's a small world after all

Three months ago we said goodbye to Quang, a young boy at the Quang Nam Baby Orphanage in Tam Ky, as he headed off to America with his adoptive parents. He and Stuart were pals and I've been lucky enough to be able to keep in touch with his mother.


Two weeks ago, I was contacted by another adoptive parent. She'll be coming in June to get Audrey's pal, Kieu and her brother, Chieu. To find out that both of the kids' favorite friends have families is good news, great news, even. And better news is that both families live in the same city.

I am grateful to have been the conduit to their meeting and we all hope that the kids can meet up occasionally (often?), keeping their connection to each other, their language and their culture. Kieu and Chieu's best pal is being adopted to the States, as well, and the parents have 'met' online, another connection made.

I don't know how to adequately describe my reaction to all this. In many ways, I am jealous of their financial ability to adopt. I fell madly for many of the kids, but I'm not in a position to afford the hoop-jumping required to adopt. So instead, I will provide any connection I can for these children, to their homeland, to their language, to each other.

I'm fully aware that I can only do a small amount and I feel stifled by my lack of real effect, but I'm hopeful that every little bit helps. My connection to those children and to this country runs deeper than I had realized until I started explaining it to a friend in the States and the call ended in tears at the thought of going "home" and not coming back to Viet Nam. It's a very distinct possibility that once I leave, I won't be able to afford the return trip and that frightens me more than coming here initially did.

Family wants us to return for good. I want to have them visit us. My children aren't sure what they want. They don't want to leave, yet they miss cousins and grandparents and friends. It's a quandary; what is best for my children? There is so much to factor into the decisions I am facing.

It's a small world, but it's still expensive to get around it. .

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.