Street signs

Aside from getting eaten by a pair of elevator doors, eating longan, mangosteen, and rambutan, not much has happened since yesterday. Actually, most of what I just mentioned happened yesterday, but I forgot to include it in my post. I also saw a bowl of brains yesterday and tried a rice porridge with heart meat.

Today we started our Vietnamese language class. Suffice it to say that my inner linguist came out in full force, and I was in my element. I will spare you the details for now. Another thing that came out in full force was the rain. We have seen rain every day, but today was our first storm. Thunder and lightning and streets turned to rivers. Getting to lunch felt like fording a river filled with motorcycles instead of crocodiles. Our journey was worth it, though, as the end treated us to delectable Vietnamese sandwiches, bánh mỳ. That reminds me; yesterday's dinner is called Bánh xèo. In the afternoon we had a session on Vietnamese culture that was as fascinating as it should have been, and not at all as dry as I had feared. In the evening I did some wandering and had sesame-glazed chicken on skewers for dinner. Again, I have no idea what this would actually be called, but that didn't make them any less delicious. (I am running out of synonyms for delicious. Feel free to leave suggestions in the comments.)

Since today's activities don't offer much in the way of storytelling, I thought I'd share some observations instead. In retrospect I realize that my title is not quite accurate, in that I think what I actually want to talk about is sidewalks, but the things is that there is little distinction between sidewalk and street, or between sidewalk and building interior. Physically, there is a general absence of curbs; the only real difference is a slight diagonal incline that demarcates the transition from street to sidewalk. This enables motorcycles to pull onto sidewalks to park and drive on the sidewalk when they get tired of being stuck in traffic or just want to go in the opposite direction of traffic. During our safety briefing yesterday, the speaker urged us to '360-degree vigilance,' reminding most of us of Mad-Eye Moody's refrain of 'Constant vigilance!'. Despite the danger, businesses and life spill out onto the sidewalk, too. Businesses maximize their display areas by spreading their wares from the back of the narrow shop to the edge of the sidewalk. Why anyone would be interested in a wooden cabinet that has been pre-treated with a daily rain bath is beyond me. When it is dry or where there is an awning, eateries set out their tiny plastic stools and tables. People eat and socialize on the sidewalk. People throw out their trash on the sidewalk, or so the prevalence of eggshells and browning vegetables would indicate. So, where is left for the pedestrian? On one side, the tide of motorcycles and other vehicles. On the other, unmoving but nevertheless obstructing, densely packed people and objects. Pedestrians walk the cement tightrope between street and sidewalk, often, conveniently, at the point where the awning comes ends, dropping a steady trickle of water. But even this narrow path is not uninterrupted. Ultimately, try as you might, you'll just have to step down into the puddling street, get cozy with the motorcycles, and try not to splash too much.