Mom + Vietnam: Ben Tre 1

Monday
When we got to campus we were in for a surprise. I asked if I could have the key to the guest house so my mom could put her things away.

- Please tell your mother to come here.
- Can we have the key first so she can put her things away.
- Please ask your mother to come here. I would like to invite her for a beverage.
- Can we have the key first? That way she doesn't have to lug her suitcase all over.
- Does her suitcase have wheels?
- Yes.
- Please ask your mother to come here.

Clearly, this conversation was going nowhere. Eventually I found out that there had been a change of plans. The (ever-enigmatic and general) 'authorities' had decreed that the guest house was not suitable for for my mother, a most important and honorable guest. The school would be putting her in a hotel, and this was not up for negotiation. I've gotten pretty good at rolling with the punches here, but this was more than frustrating. I had no choice and no say.

After a lovely lunch with Trang and other people from the college, it was time for my mom to meet the Rector. First, though, we were greeted by a welcoming committee of one:

It was the first time I have seen a snake here. We were on the second floor, and I wondered whether it had gone up the stairs or come down from the third floor. When we left campus to go the the hotel, someone was carrying another, bigger snake that had already been killed. I think my mom was slightly relieved to not be staying in what had suddenly become snake-central.

So now I'm staying at a hotel with my mom, feeling a little like a tourist in my own home. It's not as horribly inconvenient as I originally thought, but it's at least a 20 minute walk from campus, which isn't the most convenient when you have our kind of weather.

Tuesday
We were invited to attend the closing ceremony of a collaborative project with the Vam Ho Bird Ground. You may or may not recall, this is the project that generates most of my translation headaches. So, I was kind of excited to see the site that until now had remained vague and abstract. We set out bright and early and two hours later we had arrived. And then we were told that we were too late to see the grounds, that there would be no birds. We sat through speeches and more speeches. Those of us who did not speak received folders containing translations of some of the speeches. For one brief shining moment I thought I would finally see evidence of the value of my work, especially since I translated about 10 speeches. But alas, the speeches I translated were not present, and the translations that were present had clearly not been proofed. One of the speeches was made by a Singaporean environmentalist who lampooned littering (and eating meat) and congratulated the project for its conservation efforts, and ironically handed out goodies in plastic bags.

Lunch was the usual feast, and after that we managed to convince the powers that be to let us visit the bird grounds, even if there would be no birds. We drove a short ways, pulled over on an unremarkable stretch of the road, and plunged into the undergrowth.

One of a few pictures that isn't just a mass of green

Intrepid explorers, those who were undaunted by high heels or mosquitoes

Wednesday
Today was The Day: the day of my mom's presentation, the day I teach all afternoon, the day English club fills my night. Mom's long-prepared presentation went well, and was, naturally, followed by a big celebratory lunch.

Presenter, translator, and the attendees that stayed until the end

In the afternoon I taught and while doing so was filmed by a local TV crew. I have no idea why they chose today in particular. My students got the opportunity to chat with/ask my mom whatever they wanted, and the questions ended up being more or less the same ones they asked me when I first arrived. As they talked to her I felt like the parent of many toddlers. Parents can understand their children's gobbledygook perfectly, while to outsiders it is just that: gobbledygook. My mom could understand them most of the time, but there were times when she completely misinterpreted what to me was quite clear.

I admit it: altogether too often, I wish I had a personal
photographer who could photograph me being teacherly.
Today, I had one. Thanks, Mom.

Me, Ms. Thu, and the K8 (3rd year) English students

For dinner I took my mom for our first walk down 'my street' (we have been shuttled around by motorcycle, taxi, and campus car) and we bought delicious fried goodness.

English club tonight was a shocking success. Part of the grand plan has been that different teachers would collaborate with me to prepare club meetings, or at least attend, so that they can observe my teaching methods and the kinds of fun learning activities that I use. However, most of the time that doesn't happen at all. This week, much to my surprise, my collaborator prepared a reading and a set of discussion questions for today. Ms. Trang had asked me to do this on my own in the past, but I had been skeptical of students' abilities to do something like this, given that some of them stare at me blankly when I ask a question like 'what will you do this weekend?' In attendance tonight were also some high school students who are tutored by the teacher who helped organize tonight. He had prepared what I thought to be a fairly complex text about happiness, and several not-simply-worded discussion questions. To my continued surprise, the students seemed to have very little trouble with something that I would have considered to be over many of their heads. I've gotten used to having to pry everything out of most of my students, who tend to give the simplest answer possible, but to my continued continued surprise, the answers students provided were remarkably thorough and well-reasoned. Tonight's success has motivated me to prepare similarly for future club meetings. I think it will be more fruitful for the students, and hopefully just as fun as things we have done in the past. Moreover, it was a good reminder of something that I make an effort to stay conscious of (though I don't always succeed): to not judge people's intellect by their articulateness in their non-native language.