One foot in front of the other

Getting up at 630 on my day off to observe the classes I will be teaching was a great decision. I am always more comfortable when I can visualize my future, and now I know who and where and how many. I have observed the pace at which students are comfortable learning; I have seen what kind of activities they are used to, and I have some ideas about easy ways to take those activities one step further. After everything that we were told about students doing rote memorization and being receivers of information rather than critical thinkers, some of the classrooms and lesson plans were much more student-centered than I expected. They work in groups, share their findings, and write on the board. However, as I suspected, I didn't really get to be a fly on the wall like I wanted. As willing as I was to introduce myself and field questions, what I really wanted was to know what it's like when I'm not around, not to teach an impromptu class without prior warning. But I think ultimately I did get a sense of what class is like, and talking to the teachers afterward started clearing up more of the bushel of questions that I have about what is in store for me.

In the second class I visited, I experienced the moment I have been waiting for since I got to Vietnam. I was asked to sing. In front of the whole class. Luckily, students do not expect you to sing a ballad. A lot of students in Vietnam know the song, 'If you're happy and you know it', but these students either did not or did not understand me when I asked if they knew it. I then opted for Happy Birthday, because it is short and easy. I wanted to sing it to whomever had the most impending birthday, but I think that question was not understood either, or they were too shy to reply. I started asking if anyone had a birthday in September, October, ... Bueller... Bueller... Eventually I just sang it to the girl who had asked me to sing.

I rescued a black carpenter bee today. It was buzzing along on its back on the ground, apparently unable to turn itself over. I debated marking myself as a weirdo American bug girl, but it would be an accurate perception. I found a twig and lay it over the bee's flailing limbs and it quickly righted itself and flew away. I was happy.

Today was the first time it was totally up to me to get food. I was a little daunted by the prospect even though I'd done it plenty of times in Hanoi. For lunch I found a rice place not even a block away and returned triumphant. Perhaps because I was alone or because it was after the normal lunchtime here, the woman assumed that I wanted the food to-go. My styrofoam container came with a plastic flat-bottomed Asian-style spoon. And for some reason I felt the need to have a photoshooot with it...

In the evening I decided to be more intrepid. I took a walk. That might not sound like a bold move, but when your communication skills are limited almost exclusively to body language, it feels like walking into the street blindfolded. I only walked to the roundabout and back, which is a twenty or thirty minute walk, but it felt good to know I can do this on my own. I have been so coddled and cared for since I got here, which I understand and appreciate, that I had started to forget that I am independently capable. It is also nice to know how far things are on foot, since until now I had only gone places on the back of Trang's motorcycle. If I can figure out how to cross the streets that merge at the roundabout (the biggest in Ben Tre!) then I can easily walk to many kinds of stores. Along my walk I scoped out the myriad food places on my street and made mental notes of ones that appealed to me for tonight's dinner. On the way back I stopped to buy a gỏi cuốn (spring roll) with peanut sauce, some sort of puffy sesame pastry, and bánh ướt, each at a different establishment. A feast of a dinner for 75 cents. I am looking forward to trying things from the many other shops and carts along the road.

Above, today's bánh ướt. Photo courtesy of my laptop camera. Notice the big baggie of fish sauce on the left. The baggie was also full of peppers, so this dinner packed a punch. The sweet sesame bun (not pictured) was the perfect way to soothe the burn. At ten cents each, that might be my new nightly dessert.

Even though most people at Ben Tre College have asked me where I am 'really from', I think it is because I am introduced to people who already expect me to be (and look) American. Just as I do in the United States, I often wonder where people think I am from at first sight. While there it is because I look different, here I wonder if I can blend in. Yesterday, the rector of the school told me that I looked like the Vietnamese people. Today, as I walked, I wondered if I would stand out. I did not notice stares, but I know that at the very least the way I dress singles me out as someone from somewhere else. I thought maybe people had not much noticed me, but when I got to the roundabout and turned around, a man on a motorbike approached me and asked, in English, if I had lost my way. I guess that would be confirmation that people did notice me and that I do look foreign.



I forgot to mention that I was in the local newspaper. In addition to my name, I can read the words for school and America and English. Maybe by the time I leave here I will be able to read most of the article.