“A smile can always overcome the barrier of language.” – Pre-departure fortune cookieI have had a smile plastered on my face all day long. I met every one from what felt like every department. I understood only what was translated to me. I don't totally mind sitting on the outskirts of every conversation; I mind more the fact that I cannot offer my own linguistic olive branch. Instead, I smile, and hope it is enough. I also feel for Trang, who translated the many meetings for me. I have been in her position, and I think translating can be even more trying than understanding nothing. I feel like what I learned during my few Vietnamese lessons has all but disappeared. And that which I do remember, no one seems to understand. I am supposed to start having my lessons next week, but a week from now seems like too long and three hours a week feels like too little. This is something I'm going to have to pursue independently.
Trang took me out to lunch to try a local specialty, canh chua, which translates as sour soup. It seems like every new thing I try is my new favorite dish. It is a savory fish soup with a tamarind-flavored broth, according to the wikipedia link above. As the guest, I received the honor of eating the head. Trang told me that people say that the head is the best part, and that it is always given to the most important guest. However, when I asked her if she agreed, she said that she prefers the middle of the fish. If I thought it were possible for Trang to have a devious bone in her body, I might suspect her of pulling the wool over my eyes to get me to eat the part she didn't want. Still, it was good and a new experience. I thought I had thoroughly cleaned the head cavity of its meat, but apparently people like to suck on it, too. That I did not do, since Trang demonstrated the technique. I also ate what apparently was the fish's stomach. I think I need to learn more about fish anatomy.
Today's table manners lesson: If you see someone struggling to pull a piece of meat off of the skin or to serve themselves just a bit of some tangled greens, it is rude to not help them out by pulling down with your chopsticks on the opposite end.
On the way there we got me a motorcycle helmet that, if I'm honest, feels more like a wash basin with a chin strap.
Everyone here wants to know where I am 'really from'. Trang tells me it is because they want to know why I don't look like what they think Americans look like. She says they want to know why I am so much more beautiful. I'll take the compliment.
I admit I have been feeling lonely since I got here. I want to start meeting students, but by the time I have a break I am worn out from hours of smiling and just want a break. The combination of emotional exhaustion and my reclusive tendencies are making me less outgoing than I know I should be. I had a small personal triumph, though. Dinner was to be my first meal alone. Mr. Vu Hung took me to the open-air canteen in the early afternoon so that I could order ahead of time and just come later and get food when I was hungry. I headed to the canteen around 545, wondering if I would ask for it to be boxed so I could eat in my room, eat at a table alone surrounded by others, or eat at a table and be joined by the allegedly curious but shy throng of students. I decided that one way or another I wouldn't let myself retreat to my room. I don't know if there was some kind of schedule miscommunication, but I was the only person there when I went. So I ate alone. And it was ok. Some people count sheep to fall asleep; I counted geckos on the wall to pass the time. At highest count I got to 31. I had a pleasant, unhurried meal alone. I communicated sufficiently with the staff. One of the staff members is also a student, and we agreed to help each other with our respective languages. It was a start, but everything happens one step at a time.
No pictures today because my camera is on the fritz :(
No comments:
Post a Comment