Sunny Sa Pa

Ha ha! I wish!

We arrived in Lao Cai during a torrential rainstorm and were soaked from head to toe by the time we managed to run from our train car into the station. It wasn't the great introduction that I was hoping for, but we managed. We got up to the hotel after a 40-minute ride (soaking wet and they put the air conditioner on?). Our backpacks had been soaked, so all our clothes were wet, both on and off our bodies. Some were, luckily, only slightly wet in places, but Audrey's jeans that she'd planned to wear on the hike had gotten wet right on the front fold, so that it looked like she'd peed her pants (though they'd been folded in the backpack). After waiting two hours to get into our room, only to find that we had no dry clothes and no ponchoes, we pulled out of Saturday's 12-km trek through the pouring rain.

Instead we hung around, watched the clouds roll in and out and between the mountains, then as the sun came around after noon, we took off down to Sa Pa proper. It's a cute little town, quite touristy but not to the extent of Hoi An. We spent about two hours just enjoying the view of the tiered rice paddies and gardens and people from the minority tribes dressed in traditional clothing. Very interesting little jaunt. We spent the evening in the hotel, despite my intentions to head back down to the town for the night activities. Instead, we fell asleep watching movies on HBO. Oops.

Today is clouded over, of course, but it's not raining and our jackets are almost dry. We're off on a shorter trek today and will try to post pictures soon.

We've got only 4 days left here in Viet Nam and I can't yet come to grips with it. If I don't think about it for long, I'm okay. But I can only put off the inevitable return to grieving for so long...

farewell party

Nearly forty students showed up to send me off in style tonight. It was an overwhelming shower of love with people who have become far more than simply my students. They are friends and I will miss them as much as they have said they will miss me. And they gave me the best gift ever.... a copy of the "Class Book" which I jokingly griped about having to fill out every day, which they then signed with their sentiments. It was a lovely gesture and I will forever treasure it.

Tomorrow we pack up and leave bright and early Friday morning, off to Ha Noi before trekking in Sa Pa for two days. Then life swings into crazy action again. Enough of the sedentary life, eh?

awol

I really haven't disappeared off the face of the planet, just got caught up in a nasty round of food poisoning (or so it seems) combined with lack of internet. We spent Saturday hanging out, going to the local pool and trying to find someone to visit Cuc Phuong National Park with us the next day. But morning came and I realized we weren't going anywhere.

I had the most intense cramps I could have imagined. Enough to make me gasp for air, cry in pain and wish for unconsciousness. It was worse than giving birth, quite honestly, and if you've been there then you know how bad that hurts. Now take it up a notch. That was me on Sunday. No Cuc Phuong for us.

Monday morning I woke to less frequent cramps (every hour or so) and Miss Ha was nice enough to cover the 6:30-8:30am class, so I tried to do the 8:30-10:30am class. It ended up being a 8:40-9:00am class. I couldn't stand and I just felt miserable. Back to bed.

But two of the students wouldn't let me off too easily and volunteered their help in doing some shopping. They picked up some rice, veggies, banh da and boiled peanuts. Yeah, something for the kids to eat. (Stuart had made chicken noodle soup under my bed-ridden guidance on Sunday, so there were some leftovers.) And they took my blankets and pillow cases to wash so I didn't have to do it by hand. A huge thank you to Ha and Man for that.

Ha convinced me to go with her to the hospital that afternoon and begrudgingly I did. And boy am I glad.

Being a foreigner, I'm automatically a VIP so I was shuffled off to a separate building, where they poked at my belly, asked about my bathroom activities and felt my pulse. To rule out worms (ew!) they sent me over to get an ultrasound. Now, stateside they would have had me schedule an appointment for a week later, but here they just led me right into the room and after a 3-minute wait, I was on the table getting slathered with the slimy lubricant and he was looking at my guts. A bit painful, but after a couple minutes I was pronounced worm-free and headed back to the original office. There I was given rehydration salts, acidophilus powder and some pills, cotrimoxazol, but I don't know what they do. Whatever, they work.

I'd worried about the cost of seeing the doctor, but it came to a total of zeroVND for the ultrasound, the medicines, the visit. All free. Ha even had her husband help me out (he's a pharmacist there) and she did all the interpreting for me.

And now, I'm doing much better. Still not eating much beyond bread, banh da and rice. I tried eggs and potatoes this morning (I know, but they smelled sooo good) but only got down a quarter-cup before having to hand it off to Stuart.

Tomorrow is my last teaching day (how did that happen?!) and then we're off to Ha Noi, then Sa Pa before we leave the country on the 4th. I had so many things I wanted to accomplish by this point and it's just a waste. I haven't been able to do much of anything with no internet, trying to pack, and then being so sick. Oh well. There's no time to mourn.

In the afternoon, all of the students and our family will head to Sam Son for one last time. I refuse to let myself be too sad, but it will be hard in so many ways.

back to school shopping

Yeah, yeah, I know school just got out, but by the time we get back to the States, it won't be that long until school starts up. Besides, the kids deserve it. They've been wearing the same limited wardrobe for the past six months (as evidenced by the photos!).

Stuart scored some jeans and a few shirts, Audrey's stuff was cheaper so she ended up with about 8 shirts and several skirts and pants. Funny thing is that we didn't have to shop at the children's shop. All of her clothes are just "adult: small" size. And she's a skinny(!) little 9-year-old. Yeah, people are smaller here.

All in all, it ended up costing less than a hundred bucks and we all got a treat. I also picked up a shirt, which (miracle of all miracles) fits. I had to have it. You remember the JFK quote, I'm sure. "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." Right? Not according to this shirt; it says:

Speak not what your country does to you, but what you have done to your country.

ha!

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.

let the packing begin

Yesterday started off as a miserable day. Audrey had spent half the night crying about all sorts of things, though I couldn't make sense of most of it. Somehow she thinks that learning Japanese is the way to go and her friends will like her more if she knows Japanese and besides there are more Japanese in Portland (totally untrue). We spent an hour arguing about why it was good to learn Vietnamese and how there is a whole community of Vietnamese people in our city, with grocery stores and restaurants and churches and all sorts of stuff. Plenty of ways to keep up with the language skills. But the real problem is that she has been so incredibly shy to use it. Her vocabulary is pretty amazing; she wrote a story in Vietnamese on Friday. Yet she refuses to use it. So this was the source of a battle between languages, though I tried to convince her that she can be trilingual, too, and that's even better than bilingual.

So I hadn't gotten enough sleep; despite not being able to sleep and getting to bed at 3am, I still rose with the sun at 5:30am. Ah geez.

I was a grump, no doubt about it. So I do what I always do when I'm angry/sad... I started throwing things. No, not really. I started cleaning. Honestly, it's too bad that I'm not sad more often as it's kind of a nice side effect. ThenI started packing up some stuff to ship back. There are some gifts. Some clothes. Some shoes we never should have brought. We packed it into any bags and boxes we could, then met Ha at the post office (buu dien). I was hoping to be able to pack it all into one box as I'd done a couple of weeks ago, but there were no big boxes, so it got packed into three small boxes. The separate packages increased the total a ridiculous amount and what should have cost me just over 2 millionVND in one box cost me 4.4 millionVND in three boxes. I probably could have re-bought all the stuff in the States for less than the $275 I spent to ship it home. Seriously. That's like two-months' salary for many people around here!

It didn't really help my mood, but I paid. Now we'll have less to drag around with us as we make all those stops on the way back to Portland. And, as Audrey said, it'll be like Christmas when we get back. We'll have gifts for people and things we haven't seen in a month. I hope it makes me happier then.

I finally got some better sleep last night, though, so while I'm quite perturbed about spending all that cash, I know it's done and over with. No reason to stew on it. Just remember, I'm not bringing any gifts back with me on my next overseas adventure. -wink-

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.....

another one

It's been one thunderstorm after another this week. Tonight we got home in the middle of one and the taxi actually had to stop driving because the rain was coming down so hard. Now the thunders going and the lightning show has started. Again. Here's a brief (20 second) movie from Monday's storm, just as the electricity was blown out and the movie stops abruptly.

And yeah, that's me narrating.

I now completely understand what "rolling thunder" means.

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.

Visiting the HCM Mausoleum (Stuart as guest blogger)

Yesterday morning we attempted to see the almighty "Ho Chi Minh".

First we had to drop off all bags, water, cameras, and mobile phones at the entrance then wait in line for 10 minutes and pass through the security scanner and after being asked 5 times if we have a camera (which we didn't because we had sand stuck in it)we walked into an area that looked like a lobby. We had no reason to stay there so we walked into another line and slowly creeped our way slowly closer to the building. 25 minutes later we finnaly got to the entrance. Before we went in we saw the white guards with their rifles marching in a way where when they go to step they point their toes as far as they can. After what looked like a dance routine we went in.

My first thought was "brrr it's cold". we had to stay very quiet and climbed the stairs to "the room". There lying in the bed in the center of the room was the body of Ho Chi Minh. He looked very plastic and was porrly lit by a dark orange light making it less amusing to look at. About 1 minute later and we are pushed out of the mausoleum and I couldn't belive we waited in line for 45 minutes for just a glance at him.

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.

just another day at the beach

We'd been warned. Sam Son is a tourist spot and gets busy, they told us, but on our first few visits the beaches were fairly empty. No more. Every time we go, it seems to get busier and busier. Even on Tuesday evening, the place was packed with hundreds of people fighting for their own spot on the beach and in the sea.

I finally relaxed my ban on renting any sort of flotation device and with the help of Etty's conversational Vietnamese skills, we rented two big inner tubes for us. And when I say "us" I use the term loosely; again, I sat on the beach guarding our belongings while Stuart, Audrey, Becky and Etty played in he incoming tide. I graded papers and fought off the stream of hawkers with a brisk "Khong" and a wave of my hand.

Then, as usual, the storm clouds came in. We'd been there for nearly an hour and a half, so it really was time to leave in order to get back for my meeting at 7:30pm. The immense dark clouds came over us a bit slower than last time, no fear-inducing black skies this time.

Audrey couldn't help but wonder what it was about Sam Son that resulted in storms nearly every time we vist. Ah, we're just lucky, that's all.

Goodbye, Grandpa Soup

I got word that my grandpa had passed away, in his sleep, on Monday morning. Sometime Saturday night (PST), his body gave up after a lengthy struggle. He has suffered from diabetes for years and after refusing dialysis in March, we were sure his time was near. He was gracious enough to stick around a little longer.



Grandpa and Samantha

His frequent questions regarding my consistenly non-existent love life will be missed. Sort of. :)

When Stuart was young, Grandpa (who had quite a way with words) twisted his name from Stuart to Stu (Stew) to Soup. So he'd always greet Stuart with a "Hey, Soup." Being very young, Stuart had no idea what he was doing and switched the name around, thinking Grandpa was referring to himself. Soon, he became known as Grandpa Soup. He'll be remembered for the name and for his inexplicable greetings of "Yucka bean if you know what I mean."

You were always loved, Grandpa. Always will be.

morning jaunt

Invited by the University president, we headed out to a "fish stream" today. It ended up being way better than we'd thought it might be. I uploaded a bunch of photos of the drive, the fish, the grotto and the pagoda we later visited...check them out on flickr.

keeping cool

The kids had wanted to go to the beach, but I'm sick and just couldn't deal with the thought of all those people. So, I used an old trick from my own childhood and filled the trash can with water. We actually use it to store water for when the tanks go dry, so it's quite clean. Audrey played out there until she pruned, then stayed a while longer.

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.