Farewell, Fear Factor edition

Have I tried every Vietnamese dish? No. Have I tried every southern Vietnamese dish? No. Have I now tried one thing that probably trumps any other terrifying food I will ever have the opportunity to try in my life? Probably yes. I sampled embryonic duck eggs with grace and appreciation. Last night I faced something infinitely more daunting. But that story comes later.

Wednesday night was the last student English club. Turnout wasn't huge, but at eight-ish it was significantly more than the four who came last week. I learned how to fold paper into boats/bowls to hold rambutan and other snacks, and then we all sat and chatted and ate snacks and sang. I added one more Vietnamese song to my repertoire. I asked the three seniors present about their future plans, and they asked me about mine. One student told me that before I arrived, they expected me to be tall, pale, and blonde. When I arrived and they saw that we had similar skin and hair, they felt confident that we might be friends. I don't know what that says for US-Vietnam relations, but I guess it meant something good for me.

Thursday morning I had one more last visit to Trang's parents' house. It was the first time I wasn't there for some sort of event, and consequently it was a very relaxed visit, just me and them. If there is any goodbye dish I would want to have, it would be the goobdye bánh xèo that Trang's mom made. Ngon, ngon, ngon (3x delicious!), accompanied by Trang's favorite liqueur: Bailey's. This time I didn't cry on the road home; I guess I got all of my boohoos out the first time.

A more modest spread than what I usually see

Goodbye

In the afternoon, I participated in the college's closing conference for my term as a Fulbrighter. It was held in Vietnamese, but it was still moving. I made a presentation in English, and then made some closing remarks in Vietnamese. It was the first time I've had stage fright in a long time. When I started, everyone sort of giggled, and I wasn't sure whether I had said something wrong or whether they were just laughing because they were surprised to hear me speaking Vietnamese. Afterward, no one commented positively or negatively, but Trang told me that I did a good job (and she would tell me if I hadn't) and that people thought that the way I spoke Vietnamese was probably like the way they speak English. I got a mound of goodbye gifts that I haven't opened yet, and a certificate from the local government that is the highest honor one can receive and usually takes two years of consistent exemplary service to earn. I was also interviewed by a reporter for the local news.

Receiving my governmental certificate of achievement

Being interviewed

After that, there was another goodbye party. The party was festive but uneventful until I discovered that either banana rice wine is either much stronger than regular rice wine or my tolerance is shot, because I was quickly buzzed. Buzzed enough to feel inspired to toast Mr. Luan, my biggest source of frustration but most concerted effort for appreciation, for our mutual respect for each other's patience when facing communication struggles. After a plate of watercock, a plate of ruddy ground dove, a few hours, and several more shots, I met the biggest culinary challenge I have met in my life. I recall the time I went to Six Flags Arlington and faced down a ride called the Chameleon that had a loop and went forward and backwards, and I told myself that if I rode this one ride I would never fear a ride again. This dish was the Chameleon's equivalent. A dish of fish sauce, chilis, and duông dừa:  coconut beetle larvae. I have now eaten live coconut worms with bold terror and shots of banana seed rice wine. And I had four. And to be perfectly honest, other than the long time I spent watching them writhe in fish sauce while we all worked up the courage to eat them, the worst part was how much pepper was in the fish sauce, more so than the maggots themselves. You held it right behind the head, put the body in your mouth, and ripped the head off. People told me it was healthy protein, and that they are organic. Even after they'd been decapitated, the discarded heads kept moving in my bowl. 

About to eat one

Are you ready for this? Behold, the terror of the worms:

If you want more, watch the mandibles keep moving after I've eaten the bodies. Now that's a sendoff.