Feet first

This morning we got our feet wet with some team-teaching at the American Center, an English language club hosted by the American embassy. I think we were all under the impression that we would be helping someone else teach, but as it turned out, we ourselves would be teaching in pairs. We were provided with lesson plans and waited for our groups of thirty or so students to arrive. We introduced ourselves and asked our students to do the same. So far, every time I say Ben Tre people give me a blank stare. Am I really pronouncing it that badly? Today was no different. But at some point later during the lesson and I mentioned Ben Tre again and people made knowing nods. I said it right! Or right enough. It might have been a fluke, but I am giving myself credit.

One of the questions I asked during the lesson was why students were interested in learning or improving their English. The answers they gave were almost identical to the answers my thesis participants gave when I asked them about why they studied Esperanto. This makes sense, since English currently fills the same purpose Esperanto was intended for, just at a much larger scale. But, it caused some simmering thoughts of mine to bubble up to the surface. As grateful as I am for this opportunity, and as happy as I am to enable people to access the opportunities that speaking English provides, I question the implications of teaching English in a foreign country. Sometimes it feels like linguistic proselytizing, especially in contrast with Esperantic ideals (cultural neutrality in particular). But people here seek it; it's not forced upon them, so that consoles me, kind of.

After class we found ourselves in the midst of a thunderstorm and had to cross the river of a street to get into a cab. My shoes are still sodden. The flooded streets made traffic impassable, so after a while we decided to hop out and seek lunch on foot. I had my first taste of coconut water after hearing that it tastes nothing like coconut, and to my delight found this report to be accurate. Coconuts awaiting the kiss of a machete are available everywhere, and it might become my new afternoon refreshment. This discovery also gives me hope for the next nine months. Ben Tre is known for its multitude of coconut products, and I have been concerned that I might either spend nine months pretending to like coconut or grievously offending everyone by turning down anything coconut. Maybe real coconut products won't be so bad. After lunch we went back to the hotel to rest for a while and then went to a nearby cafe to relax, blog, write postcards, journal, etc. It was really nice to have the afternoon off, and such a refreshing change to not feel exhausted by 4pm.

Every day I hear the symphony of car and motorcycle horns and have been seeking a way to work them into my description of Hanoi. It is at once such a quintessential sound here, and yet has so quickly been reduced to white noise. Today, while pondering and writing on the second floor of the cafe, looking out onto the street, I was listening to music on my iPod. To turn it up enough to drown out the neighborhood sounds would have made the music deafening, so instead the honks and blares worked themselves seamlessly into the fabric of my mellow afternoon music (Iron & Wine and Bon Iver, if you're curious). Something about it all felt like I live here, like I've been here for a good while, and as I wrote my postcards I had to keep reminding myself that it has only been a week. Certainly, my communication skills are lacking, but I am finding my space in the bustle.

Dinner was the best rice plus et cetera that I've had so far, and this one included a fried hard boiled egg. After our half-day that made it feel like it was still the weekend, we had a hard-earned night out with most of the group. Tomorrow, it is back to the grind.