Future and foreigners

"The future used to be such an abstract idea. The dream was enough, ... and now the future has the nerve to show up, and it’s expecting us to do something" - Kurt, on Glee

These days it feels like I'm buckling under stress about the future about as often as I was overwhelmed by homesickness in my first several months in Vietnam. Most of the time I feel like I have a good idea of what I want, but burrowing into the world of job searches brings me down when I can't find what I want or find it but don't feel qualified for it. Onward and upward, right?

Last night I spent another hour sucked into the drain that is the teacher's English club. As proposed by the administration, five students showed up to help the teachers. This happened to work out to one student per adult. I tried discussion again, using the discussion questions one of the teachers proposed (Why do people lie? Is it ok to tell white lies?), and it went about as (un)well as usual. Some of the teachers actually engaged with their student partners, but some just giggled or stayed silent the whole time, even when I encouraged them to talk to each other. Some teachers ignored their partner and chatted with another teacher instead. Given that there were only five adults, this left us with about two who actually discussed with their partners. Then, when I asked each pairing to share their opinions with the whole group, the adults wanted the students to talk for them. Clearly, the purpose of having student helpers/partners is not so the people for whom the club exists can eschew participating. Why do they even come? I felt bad for the students (and for myself), for whom it felt like a waste of time, but I consoled myself with the thought that at least they're getting some extra time to practice English and maybe even get to feel like a bit of an authority on English. Given that everyone has acknowledged that the club is a failure but refuses to cancel it or let me make any productive changes, I am resorting to the silent protest of ending the club early. Honestly, I'm pretty sure the teachers are perfectly happy to go home early, anyway.

After the English club I went out to dinner with Thy, Trúc, and Ngoc Mai. We had bun bo hue, my new favorite soup, and I discovered that there is a special night market already set up to accompany the upcoming coconut festival. Ben Tre's normal night market is just one block, but this one covers several blocks on several streets. We did some window shopping but didn't buy anything. It made me laugh inside when my students were shocked to realize that I could understand what the shopkeepers said.

I've been having wrist pain for over a week now. When it started I assumed I'd slept on my hand funny, but it didn't go away and yesterday I could barely move my hand, so I went to the doctor today. Trang was busy so another English teacher, one with significantly lower English skills, took me. Visiting the doctor was an experience. I pad four dollars for an x-ray... with no lead apron and with my teacher/translator in the same room. At first I thought that no one was even going to talk to me or look at my wrist, but I did end up seeing a doctor. He asked if I was Philippina. When he found out that I was an English teacher he asked if I would like to visit his house/teach his children. He prescribed anti-inflammatory medicine and, for some reason, heartburn medicine (proving to me that my compulsion to look research every medicine I am prescribed in Vietnam is well-founded). I had to pay $18 for this medicine! It may not sound like a lot, but compared to how much I have paid for medication here and how much I paid for the x-ray, it seems exorbitant. Later in the evening, I got this slightly confusing email from a concerned administrator:

Hi Adelina,
This afternoon your doctor what results, did not cut myself off, if you need I will use tomorrow's Chinese hot oil to remove the pain of you watch out?

Tonight I had the student English club, which was the complete opposite of the teacher English club. We started out with a discussion of the appeal and dangers of playing video games, and even though I knew that gaming and e-cafes are really popular, I didn't realize just to what degree. All of my students spend time playing computer games, whether it be 10 minutes a day or an hour a day. After about half an hour of discussion it was clear that they were itching to talk -- but not necessarily about the topic they'd selected, so I decided to do the conversation speed dating again. They loved it, and we decided to do half discussion, half conversation next week.

"Our subjest iso't cool but he fakes it anyway..."
Excellent shirt belonging to one of my students

On my way back to my room after the club meeting, I saw two foreigners on campus. Two! Foreigners! Near my age! It felt like a mirage. I walked up to one and found out that they're Australians and they're helping students learn choreography for the coconut festival. Why they're here doing that is unclear, but they'll be here for about two more weeks and we're going to try to meet up tomorrow. I'm still in disbelief.

Life goes on

As if to confirm just how miraculous my sleeping in this weekend was, this morning I was awakened first by an insistent rooster, later by a text message from a student, next by screaming students, and lastly by a phone call from Trang. We were supposed to meet for lunch, so you'll forgive me if I dared to forget that I was in Vietnam and wasn't expecting to be summoned at 930 in the morning.

Periodically, Trang will tell me that 'something very horrible happens' and she will go under the radar for several days. She makes it pretty clear that she doesn't want to talk about it, so I never find out what kind of horrible things are happening. I wonder whether they are related incidents. I'll never know. Our morning meal together was significantly quieter than usual. Her mind was presumably on whatever issues she is dealing with, and I was barely awake because I stayed up way too late last night.

In the afternoon I met with Ms. Chau Anh, with whom I'd been leading the English club last month. She had asked me to look over a bunch of elicitation results for her thesis. It is a lot of work, and not work I'm entirely comfortable doing, but from what I've heard from my fellow ETAs, it is a pretty normal request. I meant to get through most of it this weekend, but getting sick got in the way, so I didn't have much to show her today. We chatted about how busy she is, and eventually the topic shifted, implicitly, to reciprocity. She asked me if I needed anything, and I said no. She told me that if I ever did, I should ask her. Then she told me that if I ever needed money, I should feel free to ask her. I was quite taken aback. The last thing that would ever occur to me in my exchange rate position would be to ask a Vietnamese person for money.

A little while later I was summoned to the office, and when I arrived I found that I had been summoned to make and eat spring rolls. Let's just call it a sign of being in Vietnam that no one, despite knowing I'd been sick and am still recuperating, thought it might not be a good idea for me to make food for everyone else, and to double-dip in shared peanut sauce.

Down, then up

1.10.12
I wasn't going to write about this, but then today happened. A few days ago I had an uncomfortable realization: I wouldn't mind if this were over. That doesn't mean that I actively want to leave, just that if my time in Vietnam were up, I'd be ready. Maybe you could say that the honeymoon period is over. As exciting as it may sound to be living in a faraway country, I'm just living. I'm just living somewhere where I am incapable of communicating more than a few basic needs, somewhere where I often feel like a child, somewhere where I too often feel alone, and when you put it that way it doesn't sound exciting or enticing at all.

I know there are 500 reasons why being here is great. Every other day, those are the reasons that color my perspective. But today just wasn't one of those days. All of my insecurities and shortcomings that manifest themselves in how I tackle daily life came to the surface.

After writing the above, I nursed myself with spoonfuls of refried black beans the same way tv women nurse their emotions with a pint of ice cream. And then it was time to put on a smile and go to a fair in town. That turned out to be just what I needed. From what I had been told, I was expecting to meet administrators with varying levels of English fluency. Instead, I met a pair of students and a few of my close co-workers. Strolling through the fair, which looked more like a short-term market with freebies, with my students made me feel like I had friends. It gave me encouragement to rededicate myself to establishing social connections, rather than always trying to be self-sufficient.

At the fair/market

From the market we went out to dinner and Trang joined us. It was a celebratory meal to 'cover the old year'. I'm not really sure what that meant, and Trang said she wasn't really able to explain. Either way, the food was great. My stomach had been feeling a little upset and I was worried I wouldn't be able to partake in the meal with my usual gusto, but I think it turned out that I was just hungry. As soon as I started eating, I felt way better. The standout part of the meal was a tofu dish. (I NEVER thought I'd say that!) I very reluctantly accepted the first morsel and (after accidentally putting way too much hot sauce on that one) ended up heaping them into my bowl. It was crunchy and savory on the outside and soft and almost melt-in-your-mouth-y on the inside. It helped that it was topped with green onions and some sort of shredded meat. By the end of the night I was feeling much happier.

Magical tofu on the left

1.11.12
The morning started with Trang and pho and Vietnamese lessons. I asked how to ask questions, and I feel like I'm finally back in the Vietnamese-learning saddle. I am learning all kinds of useful things, and my tonal indiscretions lead me to learn slightly less useful, less appropriate, but more hilarious words. Hồi nào means when; hôi means smelly. Đi means to go; đĩ means whore. Thành công means successful; cống means sewer pipe. If I mess that last one up, instead of wishing someone a successful new year, I'll be wishing them a sewagey one.

We also discussed proper behavior for Tet, which starts next week. It seems that there are innumerable social blunders that one can commit at this time, and any such blunder will doom someone's fortunes for the rest of the coming year. This means that I am somewhat apprehensive and Trang, as my cultural encyclopedia, is subject to my frequent interrogations about whether x or y will result in poor health or bankruptcy for my hosts. Both of us are a little stressed. Here are some examples of Tet superstitions:

• If you are unsuccessful, unmarried, or have a 'bad name' you are unwelcome at people's houses during Tet, because you bring bad luck with you. This begs the question, why would you ever give your child a bad name? They'll be ostracized every year.
• Red and other warm colors are lucky. You should dress accordingly.
• It is normal to give fruit to someone who invites you to their house during Tet holiday. I asked if tangerines would be ok, thinking that their coloring might be suitable. Wrong. Tangerines are sour, so I'd be bringing my hosts a sour new year.
• Watermelons are very popular during Tet because they are red inside. However, they should be round, not ovoid, because circles are 'more perfect'. The household will have a ceremonious halving of the watermelon to see what it is like inside. If you chose a bad watermelon, guess what that means for your year.
• The first animal sound you hear after midnight is an indication of the year to come. If you hear a rooster or a chicken you will be scratching out a living and working hard. If you hear a pig you will have a comfortable, lazy year.

This afternoon I taught the Spotlight on the USA class. This is maybe the class I'm most excited about because I feel like I have the most freedom (and the most expertise). I feel like this is my opportunity to feel like a real teacher and not just an activities coordinator. The last time I taught this class, two weeks ago, I told the students that I expect them to read the chapter ahead of time, and that I'd be giving reading quizzes at the start of each class. I was a little hesitant to give a quiz today because I worried that they might have forgotten, but then I realized that I gave them fair warning and that my job is to teach, not coddle.

In my last post I wrote about cheating. Woooh, boy. Today I really got to see how bad it is. I thought that if I told them what to do and what not to do that would be enough, but it wasn't. I had to say 'no talking' so often and so many times it felt like a mantra. I even stood in their midst, instead of up at my desk, to enforce the point. That helped a little, but not enough. I went back to my desk and used the seating chart to keep track of every person I heard talking or saw looking at someone else's paper. It was a little discouraging, but it also helped me appreciate the students who weren't cheating. If the behavioral signs weren't enough, the rash of tests stating that Benjamin Franklin was the 3rd president of the US just help to make the problem even more apparent. I realized that next class I'll have to spend time discussing what I consider cheating and what the consequences are.

Other than that, class went pretty well. I played American music during the break, which my students seemed very happy about. I'll try to remember to do that every week.


P.S. This seems like a good time to mention that I'll be in Laos for a week, starting on Friday.

Going back

12.30
We left Phu Quoc for Saigon, this time spending less than an hour in transit, thanks to the magic of airplanes. Our afternoon was largely uneventful, other than dinner. I took Elliot to try banh can, one of my favorite dishes in Saigon. I only know how to get there by way of somewhere else, but I thought I had figured out the address so that we could walk there directly. Unfortunately, the address I found was completely wrong. Fortunately, I managed to get us there anyway, making only one wrong turn in the process. (If Elliot is telling this story, he will insist that it was more than one wrong turn, but that is false.)

12.31
I saw a motorbike with six people on it when we were on the way to the War Remnants museum. My record thus far! I had chosen not to go to the museum, previously, and I was a little apprehensive about this visit. I envisioned an emotionally dark and gut-wrenching experience. It wasn't as bad as I thought, but I also exercised a lot of judgement in which exhibits I chose to see; some were just photos of victims of agent orange, for example. I spent the most time looking at a collection of international photojournalism from the war.

After lunch we headed to the Reunification Palace. On the way there, a Vietnamese man called out to Elliot to compliment his beard. At the palace we discovered that, for some reason, they had now removed all of the signs that tell you what each room is supposed to be, perhaps to make more people want to pay for a tour guide. While both the museum and the palace had a clear bias and agenda, Elliot found the historical video shown in the palace (during which I fell asleep, yet again, but not as early on, at least) to be the worst in that regard.

Looking out from the top of the palace

We went out for dinner with several other ETAs who were in town for New Year's, and rung in 2012 with the masses.

with the ETAs

Happy new year!

1.1.12
It was time for Elliot to go back to the U.S. I regret to report that our last meal in Vietnam was at a newly opened Burger King at the airport. I guess it was a good transition point.

Elliot packed light, unlike everyone else in front of him

time to say goobdye

When I left the airport I went to the dentist to investigate the toothache, and you already know what came of that. I was lucky that all of my fellow ETAs were still around, so saying goodbye to Elliot didn't leave me abruptly alone in the city. At night we saw many of the city's decadent new year's  decorations that were still up.

1.2.12
I had to wait until Tuesday to have the tooth extraction, so I had a leisurely day. I had a rich spinach lasagna for lunch and I realized that I might have a hard time re-adjusting to food in the US. In the afternoon I pursued some retail therapy.

1.3.12
It feels silly to call it surgery, even though I did get a couple stitches. The whole thing was pretty quick and easy. I only got a local anesthetic, and I was able to watch most of the procedure reflected in my dentist's goggles. I've heard so many stories of what comes afterward that I was expecting the worst, but I've been just fine. Just in case, I spent the day at the hotel. I was rewarded when I caught the last five regulation minutes of the Stanford-Oklahoma State bowl game. How I've missed football! Even though the nurse repeatedly urged me to 'stay on top of the pain killers,' and medicate before I felt pain, rather than after, I felt so fine that taking codeine just felt excessive. I didn't take any. I've pretty much felt fine to eat and all that this whole time, but I'm trying to be responsible and careful. No chipmunk face has developed.

This was taken today, the 5th, the day at which I should be at 'peak swelling'.
Do I look chipmunky to you?

1.4.12
I got back to Ben Tre with a feeling of deflating. Back to reality, back to the daily grind, back to being alone, back to not understanding the voices around me. But the reality is that reality isn't bad at all. At the mid-year conference we received letters we wrote to ourselves at the end of orientation in Hanoi. I was pretty sure my letter would just remind me of all the goals I have failed to reach (e.g. cook often, learn Vietnamese), and consequently was reluctant to read it. However, I found that what I wrote four months ago was well-worth reading. At this time of resolutions and new beginnings, I would do well to keep my words in mind:

I want to make a point of getting out of my room and letting people in. I want to be in people's lives outside of the classroom, and I want people in my life. I don't want to look back on my year and wish I'd done it differently. I don't want to hear other peoples stories and wish they were mine. I want to love my story.

New year, new wisdom

"Today 3 people asked me about U. I gave them your details and contact. They'll be finding U soon. Their names are Happiness, Health and Love ... HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
- text message I received from one of my students today.

Happy new year, indeed! I can't believe I'm officially halfway through my term in Vietnam. I've definitely had the first and the third visitors in recent days, but I think she might have given Health the wrong number. I am currently in HCMC, using a borrowed computer, and will be staying a little longer than planned, so lengthy recounting of adventures will have to wait a few more days.

Some days ago I started having a bit of a toothache. I decided to get that checked out today after Elliot left (I also reasoned that, should I be crying, a dentist's office would not be a completely unreasonable place to do that, but I wasn't.) The dentist took one look at my mouth and knew exactly what the problem was -- a wisdom tooth is coming in (coming out?). It is already poking through my gums. As far as I knew, I didn't even have any wisdom teeth, but I guess I'll be adding oral surgery to the list of  unexpected experiences that comprise my Vietnam experience at large. Rest assured, this is the nicest, fanciest dental clinic I've ever been to.

Here's hoping that my year is more like the text and less like how it has started off. As for you, you can probably look forward to some photos of me looking like a chipmunk.