New roles

My internet has been on vacation for the last few days. On Tuesday night, Mr. Luan presented me with a fruit called the Uncle Ho (as in Ho Chi Minh). It is a very large citrus. I thought that, since it was named after him, it might resemble him somehow, but aside from being the size of a human head, it bore no particular resemblance to the noted figure. It turns out that it is named after him because -- allegedly -- all of these fruits are grown from the seeds of a tree that originally grew in Ho Chi Minh's garden. Mr. Luan has one such tree in his back yard, and often bragged to me about it, though I had never understood the significance. I can now report that Uncle Ho tastes more or less like any other pink-fleshed citrus, and that its size is mainly due to the incredibly thick peel, as the fruit itself is more or less large grapefruit sized.

That's a full-sized plate

Thursday night I went out to dinner with Thuy, one of my seniors. She told me once that she has wanted to go out with me but she has a job and is too busy, so it was a pleasant surprise to get her text message inviting me out. We had pho, just the two of us, and then we went to milk tea, where Nhu joined us. Since my senior classes ended several weeks ago, I haven't really gotten to see or spend time with most of them, so it was particularly nice to just hang out. Even though it was partly a social call, it was also a bit of a business meeting. This coming Monday, the English department will be holding it's annual conference/workshop/seminar, and the seniors are currently going through finals and simultaneously having to prepare for the conference. Originally, I was supposed to make a presentation, be an MC, be a judge for a competition, and participate in a play. Then it was decided that I should just present and judge, and now it has been decided that I will be in the play, too. So, Nhu and Thuy and I discussed the script over our milk tea.

Vanessa Hudgens smiled at us from the dental clinic across the street

On Friday morning, I was not in the mood to teach. I briefly but seriously considered calling in sick, but the voices of reason (one of whom is named Elliot) prevailed, and I stepped up to the plate. I'm glad I did, because the lesson plan I had prepared went quite well. I'm still struggling with the level-inappropriate textbook I've been given. I appreciate the relative freedom a useless textbook provides, but I'm still bound to teaching the same topic for three weeks, and that's the tricky part. We started the new unit, childhood, and I decided to use milestones as a jumping off point. I introduced the word and concept to my students, and asked all of them to prepare to share a memory relating to one of the following milestones:

• First day of school
• Learning to ride a bike
• Learning to swim
• Losing their first tooth
• Birth of a younger sibling
• First family vacation
• First Tet they can remember

Most of them chose to share the story of their first day of school, and most of those stories followed the same general outline of feeling scared, making friends/getting candy from the teacher, getting used to a new environment, and eventually loving school. However, I also got some very unique stories. One student shared the sad story of her grandmother dying on Tet. Some shared fun and detailed memories of their first family vacation. One student shared his story of (sort of) learning to swim. He taught himself in a shallow pool, then was hanging out with his friends who decided to swim across a big river, and about halfway across he realized he wasn't going to make it. If his friends hadn't turned to look at him he would have drowned, because he was too weak to call for help. As a result of this, he decided (illogically, in my opinion) that he would never swim again.

Thuy (Trang's sister) and I went out for lunch. We went to a place in My Tho, the city in the province across the bridge, that is famous for its fried chicken. The chicken was indeed worth the drive. I also had a mysterious but delicious marinated beef dish, bò lúc lắc. It is the first time I've had beef in Vietnam other than in meatball/patty form or thinly stir fried form. These were tender, flavorful, melt in your mouth chunks. 

The two of us at a lakeside cafe after lunch

In the late afternoon, I had play rehearsal. In the early evening, I went out with Thy and Tuc. We started with shopping, because they think I need a new dress for the conference on Monday. However, they failed to notice or account for the fact that I need clothing of a very different size than they do. They kept encouraging me to try on dresses that I knew wouldn't fit. I would sausage myself into them only to confirm the fact that they were in fact too short and wouldn't zip. Eventually they got the picture and started only suggesting dresses with a lot of stretch and elastic. After a couple of shops and no purchases on my part, we decided it was time for dinner. However, Tuc's motorbike suddenly wouldn't start. We went to the mechanic together, and then she insisted that Thy and I go on without her. Thy had told me we were going to have hu tieu chay, vegetarian noodle soup, and I wasn't too excited about it but I was going to go along with it. She must have changed her mind, though, because she took me to a place that sells banh cuon. I was very excited by this change of events. Banh cuon is a northern dish so it's harder to find in the South. I had tried it once before and liked it, and wished I could have it again, but even Trang didn't know where to find it in Ben Tre. Success! It was a satisfying end to a sweaty evening of shopping.

Sewn onto an otherwise perfectly normal and wearable shirt

Lately, it seems like nature has been trying to restake its claim on my living space. A creeping vine has started winding itself onto the grid that postures as a bathroom wall, and it is growing at the impressive rate of at least a foot per day. Over these last few months I have shared with you stories and pictures of the many creepy crawlies I have played host to. This week, an unexpected breed of visitors has finally caused me to draw the line. I allow spiders the size of my hand to watch me when I use the bathroom. Cockroaches wave their antennae at me while I brush my teeth. Wasps built a nest on my bathroom door. Frogs lurk in corners. Millipedes creep along on the wall above my bed. Geckos emit demonic cackles while I try to sleep. All of these I have borne with patience and minimal slaying. But now I am waging war. Crickets. Crickets I will not abide. A few nights ago I woke up to what I thought was a fire alarm. I waited to hear screams or at least hurried footsteps from upstairs, but there was nothing. It was only then that I realized that if this place had fire alarms they'd go off every afternoon during the trash burnings. It was a cricket. And in case you think crickets are charming, soothing hallmarks of the peaceful countryside life, let me correct you. They are not. Having a cricket in my room is like having a whistle-happy referee who has perfected circular breathing as my house guest. Not ideal for watching TV, sleeping, or generally keeping my sanity after sunset. So, last night, I went to war. Using my built-in audio tracking devices (ears) and state of the art cricket trap (cup) I rounded up all of the crickets trying to maximize their mating calls with my bathroom's acoustics and threw them out the window. It was amazing how much of a difference it made. Best of all, I finally got a good night's sleep.

Third new year of the year

This weekend was the Khmer new year. I went to Tra Vinh, which has a significant Khmer population, to visit Violet and take part in festivities. Unlike the last time I traveled on a Friday the 13th, I was met with no bad luck or undue stress. I caught the bus to the ferry on Friday afternoon. An elderly man across the aisle tried to chat with me. No matter how many times I said I didn't hiễu, it turned out that I did actually kind of understand. After asking me where I was going (to the ferry), why I was going there (to go to Tra Vinh), and what I'd be doing there (visiting a friend), he jumped to a strange conclusion. He suddenly proclaimed that I spoke not only Vietnamese and 'American', but also Lao and Cambodian. After that I really didn't hiễu anymore, and he started chatting with someone who took the seat next to him. I really enjoyed the ride. Even if the weather never changes here, it's obvious that it's spring. We passed ponds full of blooming water hyacinths and lotuses and water lilies. It's not the same as Texas wildflowers, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

I took the ferry across the river; Violet met me on her side, and she drove me into Tra Vinh city. Naturally, our first order of business was to go shopping. I bought my first pseudo English shirt, and it even had some pseudo Italian to boot! Violet and I had dinner at a banh uot place I've been wanting to revisit ever since my first time in Tra Vinh, and it did not disappoint. We bought a kite and then went home for a bit to relax before our second dinner. At around nine we left for a bia hoi (fresh beer place) with Vincent and were met by some of Vincent's students. Sadly, the grill was broken, so I didn't get any of the grilled beef I'd heard so much about, but we had some great corn, fried chicken, and fried calamari.

In our new shirts

Saturday morning, Violet and I had the choice between going to the beach or going to a going away party for a foreign employee at her university. We chose the beach. It was more or less a 90-minute drive and, again, it was incredibly enjoyable. As much as I love new sights and new experiences, I love it when I can find something familiar in it. The wide blue sky full of cumulus clouds and the many, seemingly stray, cows reminded me of Texas. Some of the towns reminded me of Guatemala. The old churches had notes of Italy. By the time we got to the beach, I was feeling really good.

Getting onto a ferry

We were the only people at the beach. We set up under a thatched roof that shaded us from the sun above and the blistering sand below it, and we had a well-earned brunch that I bought before we left the city while Violet was having her clanking bike checked for our trip. The beach was not the blue water white sand paradise that destination beaches tout, but I hadn't been expecting it to be. It was covered in the most amazing shells, a surprising amount of lightbulbs, and the usual Vietnamese debris (assorted sandals, empty bottles of fish sauce, etc.). After eating and setting my inner child free to collect an absurd number of these shells, we went for a swim. We let ourselves get pruny before we emerged again to fly our kite. Though the kite was pretty, it came with a very short string. The wind carried it easily, but it couldn't get high enough to really glide.

Some of the shells were encrusted with barnacles

Mollusk-mohawked light bulb

Flying our butterfly kite

And then Violet found a dead puffer fish on the beach

While we were scampering around discovering the beach's trash treasures, a group of young Vietnamese guys arrived, with a big hoe in tow. They started digging in the sand and shouted at us to join them, but we declined. They came to us. It turned out that they were digging for crabs, and they brought one to show us. They might have accidentally-on-purpose released it at us. They caught it again, but one of them had to literally pounce on it to keep it from getting away. Crabs are fast! After a while of rocky conversation, they conscripted us to help them dig for crabs. A second crab was unearthed and somehow, in attempting to get it into the bag with the first crab, both crabs ended up springing free and swiftly scuttled in opposite directions. Unluckily for the crabs, they were recaptured. At this point, one of the guys thought it would be funny to try and drag Violet into the ocean, at which point I decided it was probably time for us to go.

That night we went to Ratana's home. He is one of Vincent's students, and he had invited us and several others to come celebrate his birthday. It was a striking treat to watch a group of young guys cooking for and serving the guests. They made a green mango and dried fish salad, fried chicken, and a fish soup that tasted like it was equal parts fish and peppers. It was a good mix of students and foreigners, as four of Vincent's friends teaching in other cities came in for the new year and came for Ratana's birthday. When the food was gone we decided to move on to karaoke. Unfortunately, we had only made it through one song when the power went out in the whole city. On the upside, the pitch black outside made it easy to see all of the stars.

Sunday was Khmer festivity day. We started out by going to Trà Cú, a Khmer town in Tra Vinh province. We went to the home of Mr. Hai, a teacher at the university. So began a day of culturally mandated debauchery. Mr. Hai plied us with Heineken, 333 beer, brandy, and three different batches of homemade rice wine. He told us that while the Vietnamese only drink until they are drunk, Khmer people keep going long after that. The alcohol was accompanied by a feast that included beef jerky that he brought home from Cambodia after a recent trip. He wanted to take us to observe some religious rituals, but social obligations summoned us to another house.

Our host is on the far right

The bacchanalia continued at a Khmer student's house. When we got there, we were greeted by a band of performers that included a king and queen, an old man, a 'ladyboy' (man in drag), a monkey warrior, and some demons. They and most of the town children paraded into the yard of the house we were staying at and gave a special performance. In the video below you can see the monkey warrior dancing and most of the other performers.

With the king

Ladyboy in the foreground, queen in the background

After they left we had dinner. It started off with curried duck, then a squid and greens dish, and then the main course came out. Drum roll please. It was dog meat stew. I had started to think I might leave Vietnam without trying it, but I should have known Vietnam would not disappoint me. Despite all of the negative opinions I had heard, I actually found dog meat to be perfectly palatable. It was certainly chewy, but it just resembled overcooked beef, which isn't so bad as far as bad meat goes.

It was only slightly awkward to have dogs lounging at our feet while we ate

We took a break from eating and drinking to go to the family tomb for a special ceremony. From what I understand, each family has a stupa-like structure where the ashes of all ancestors are kept. Families go pay their respects and monks lead each family in prayer. They also fling a lot of (holy?) water during the praying. After this, we went to what felt like a big neighborhood party. Musicians played Khmer rock and we spent the rest of the night dancing in circles around a table laden with fruits and flowers.

Having recently celebrated Easter and having now participated in three different kinds of new year celebrations, I have been reflecting about tradition. Last Sunday I was acutely aware of the importance of tradition. Without ritual or tradition, it's hard to sense the specialness you may expect a day to have. Most American holidays, even the ones I was able to celebrate with friends or family, just didn't feel quite right. They were missing the people or foods or activities that make them different from every other day. That, and most of my holidays are irrelevant and meaningless to everyone around me. Before Tet, I wondered if it would somehow feel more special than my own new year, even though it had no meaning to me, because it would be actively celebrated by everyone else around me. It didn't. Yesterday, though, got close. There was a large gathering of new friends, there was feasting, there was some ceremony, and there was a lot of celebration. I don't know that it felt as meaningful as 'my' holidays, but it felt like the right kind of special.

Easter coconut

“If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans.” - Woody Allen

It was such an eventful weekend I had to split it into more than one post. In anticipation for my several visitors, I had grand plans of where I would take them to eat, where we would relax, and so on. Of course, I forgot that I was in Vietnam, the country that laughs at your plans even more than God does. Originally, Lam (ETA) and Vincent (non-Fulbright ETA in Tra Vinh with Violet) were supposed to arrive in Ben Tre on Saturday and leave at their convenience on Sunday. On Friday night, in the midst of poring over youtube videos of Nguyễn Hoàng Nam, Vincent informed us that he'd actually be coming with one of his students, Thu, and that his program director and his wife would be coming in from HCMC to join us. Suddenly, instead of having two motorbikes and four people, we'd be juggling seven people on those two motorbikes. But it got worked out.

On Saturday morning, Violet got a message from Vincent informing her that his motorbike was suddenly out of commission, so they'd be late and using Thu's bike. Lam informed me that he'd be arriving at two, give or take a couple of hours. Violet and I got a decently early start and had bun bo hue for breakfast before hitting up the lake stage. The road closures for the festival rerouted everyone onto a usually quiet side street, and I was intrigued but not at all surprised by the clots of sidewalk fruit sellers and the number of vendors that suddenly inhabited previously empty storefronts. There was happening on the stage, but it was open to the public so we clambered around and hoped we wouldn't suddenly plummet into the water of dubious cleanliness.

Dragons frolic among coconut palms

I frolic on a my-size Rach Mieu Bridge

A posse of teens goaded each other into working up the courage to talk to us in English, and one of them finally asked us if we could take a picture of their group. We did so and then, after briefly consulting together, they decided that we were beautiful and they asked if they could get a group picture with us in it. We complied. The next order of business was shopping. Violet and I have both been dreaming of acquiring a Vietnamese-style blazer (colorful or polka-dotted and perhaps adorned with an assortment of buttons and zippers). I'd seen a few shops that looked promising, so Violet drove us there to commence the hunt. Alas, it was a futile search, and I had my dreams crushed by a red and black blazer that was perfect except for the fact that it was about two sizes too small. No success on the blazer front, but we both made other purchases. A tank top for me and a romper for Violet.

At this point, Violet and I were feeling hot and thirsty, so we headed back to campus to get sugarcane juice at a place just outside the gate. Right as we sat down, we saw Vincent, Thu, and Patrick and Jessica (Vincent's program director) arriving at the college. Perfect timing! We ordered four more nuoc mias and did some getting to know each other. It was right around lunch time, so our next stop was my preferred not-quite-upscale restaurant. It's not street food, but it's not nearly as fancy or expensive as restaurants. I ordered the Ben Tre specialty, canh chua (sour soup), fish cooked in fish sauce, and we also got a plate of fried squid. We chowed down with vigor, and Patrick and Jessica declared it the best meal they'd had in Vietnam. Score! 

Seeing as how this is my home turf and all, it was up to me to figure out what everyone should do. There isn't much to see in Ben Tre other than taking a river tour, but that's not even in the city. My main knowledge of Ben Tre is it's food offerings, so despite the fact that we'd all just stuffed ourselves we went to have some milk tea. It was just two blocks away, so it was easy to get to despite our limited vehicles. Since we arrived with two blatant foreigners in tow, the owners closed the doors and turned on the air conditioning for us. We hung out for quite a while, long enough for Lam to meet us around three. We decided to order a plate of fried fertilized quail eggs to perhaps not so gently encourage Patrick and Jessica to give them a try. They acquiesced, content with having tried them, but not eager to have any more. After all of this, Patrick, Jessica, Vincent, and Thu went to the coconut festival while Violet, Lam, and I decompressed and tried to decide where we would all meet up for dinner. Lam wanted to go somewhere where we could grill at our table and have some beers, but I have never been somewhere like that. I texted Mr. Hoang, whom I know to be an avid social drinker, asking him for a recommendation. I should have seen it coming. He was out drinking, and recommended that we join him. 

All of us met at the place that Mr. Hoang recommended, and though we did not sit with him we made sure to visit his table and clink our glasses. Service was slow, and Patrick and Jessica actually had to leave before our main course arrived. The rest of us were going to meet my students, Thy, Nhu, and Di, and go to the coconut festival, and we never ended up getting the roast chicken we ordered. Instead, we dove into the festival traffic. It was more packed than any traffic I have ever been in in Saigon or Hanoi, and I have done some rush hour xe om-ing. We were inching along, and I was getting grazed by passengers on other motorbikes.

Not bumper to bumper, elbow to elbow

The festival was even more crowded than it was on Friday night. Since most of us had seen it already, we didn't spend as much time there. I did, however, get a better look at the coconut handcrafts, and discovered the rather out of place trinket below.

Is Ben Tre exporting coconut crafts to Hawai'i?

The students went home, Vincent and Thu went back to Tra Vinh, and Lam and Violet and I headed back to campus. We ended up staying up and chatting until 4:30am. Sunday morning made it abundantly clear that our bed time was not a well thought out idea.

Lam was supposed to catch a 7am bus back to Ca Mau. Remember when I mentioned God laughing? His alarm didn't go off. Luckily, sort of, mine did. I don't remember hearing it, but some part of my subconscious heard it and I turned it off in my sleep. Violet heard it and woke us up at 715. Lam decided to join us for 730 mass. However, we were three people with one motorbike. Instead of piling on and risking getting pulled over, Lam got a head start on my bike and Violet and I set out on her motorbike soon after. We caught up to him and I tried to push him along with us, as I've seen many Vietnamese youths do for their unmotorized friends. It was not nearly as easy as they make it seem. It should be a straight shot from campus to church, but road closures made us take a pretty wide detour, and we didn't actually make it to church until around eight. We sat, sweated, and bemoaned the fact that we'd had less than three hours of sleep. I was glad we made it to mass, but it certainly wasn't the jubilant Easter Sunday morning I had pictured. We grabbed some food after mass, again, not the sumptuous Ben Tre Easter feast I had envisioned earlier in the week, and then Lam had to rush to catch his backup plan. He biked to the city center and asked a surprisingly smart-mouthed taxi driver into taking him and the bike back to campus, where the bus would pick him up. 

We all reconvened briefly at the college before the bus came for Lam. Violet and I promptly returned to bed and caught an extra three hours of z's before continuing our day. We had pho and then decided to go back to milk tea - for the third day in a row. We'd been there for half an hour when, who should arrive but Nhu and another one of my students. They joined us and ordered a kipu tea for us. It was the first time in a long time that I had to grin and bear it. Whatever the tea itself was, it was mixed with ground up peanut. There are very few situations in which I find peanuts tolerable, and this was definitely not one of those situations. Flavor aside, needing to chew grit in my beverage is not really something I enjoy. The tea also had some sort of jello/flan made from eggs, which was surprisingly the best part of the glass's contents.

Then it was time for Violet to get on the road to Tra Vinh, and for me to join my trusty coconut festival ambassadors once more and visit the third site of the festival. While the scale and popularity of the fair was quite impressive, the Coconut Street next to the river was what really outshone my modest expectations for the whole festival. It was in the same place as the flower market from Tet, but a million times better than just a bunch of people selling (beautiful) potted plant after potted plant. On top of the very wide riverside sidewalk, in twenty days, people installed a rice field, planted coconut palms, made ponds with bridges over them, and more. Not only was it an admirable feat, it was designed with an extremely western-compatible aesthetic. It wasn't campy, glittery, or styrofoamy.

Mini rice field

A fish turning into a dragon, over a coconut inlaid with the contours
of the continents: a symbol for Ben Tre's aspirations

Di, Nhu, and Thy on a monkey bridge

There really are orange coconuts, though they are kind of brownish but they're called red

Yes, believe it or not, under all of that there is normally nothing but a big old riverside sidewalk. Because I am the Foreign Princess of Ben Tre, I was given the royal treatment by my loyal subjects on coconut street. One man I vaguely remember meeting several months ago was working for the festival, and he joined our group (me, the students, and a teacher) and made himself our guide. He showed me a clever mousetrap made out of bamboo, traditionally used to catch a coconut mouse. Naturally, you don't use cheese as bait; you use a sliver of coconut. I tasted what I can only describe as a coconut fruit roll-up, though it is much more traditional and much less artificial than that. We went to a booth where people were making crafts out of palm fronds. It was kind of like Palm Sunday meets balloon animals. Roses, birds, centipedes, fish, dragons, and vuvuzuelas took shape amidst the skillful hands of the people working the booth. One of those people was a former attendee of the English club for teachers, and he immediately presented me with a rose. Then he asked if I wanted to learn how to make one. I got a personal tutorial on how to make a rose (it turned out pretty pathetic) and then how to make a bird (this one turned out pretty good). All the while, a professional photographer was snapping shots.

After exploring all of Coconut Street's offerings, we went to get a drink at a cafe before going home. I found out that the local government spent 2 billion VND (about $1 million) on the coconut festival. I can't say whether it was worth it, but I certainly enjoyed it.

Curvy, creative, and cute

Saturday was the death anniversary of the first king of Vietnam, and so most people had the day off on Monday. For some reason, the college decided to have the day off on Friday, and so we were the only people working yesterday. Now that I'm not teaching Translation anymore, my Monday workday doesn't start until 9:55. It felt very strange to wake up so late but still have to go into work. When I got to class, only 18 of my 40 students were present. Apparently, more than half of them stayed home out of concern for the storm. However, rain never even made an appearance, and it was just a pleasantly cool day instead. I decided to take advantage of having a small class, and spent the last 45 minutes using my speed dating conversation activity. It got off to a slightly rockier start than it did when I used it in English club, which makes me wonder if those who attend the club regularly have gotten a leg up or if attendees are more capable and confident to begin with. When the conversations kept hitting lulls at around 3:30 minutes during the first round or two, I decided to write a few conversation starters on the board to help students if they got stuck. I worried that they would just ask each partner the same questions and end up exchanging canned answers instead of having a more natural conversation, but it seemed to help. One girl managed to look sleepy and bothered through most of the activity, but by the last few rounds I was happy to finally see here smiling and engaging with her partners. I don't usually ask my students if they enjoyed class or a certain activity -- it feels needy and I don't trust that it would generate sincere answers -- but I did ask this time. I was happy to receive an enthusiastic and resounding 'yes!' The best thing about this activity for me is that it is a sign of progress; I don't think it would have been possible six months ago.

Below, the rabble of casual English.

I was supposed to have a Vietnamese lesson this morning but Trang texted me about half an hour before we were supposed to meet because it was raining and asked if I wanted to reschedule for tomorrow. Since it took me about three rounds of falling back asleep with my phone in my hand and dreaming that I responded before I actually texted her back, it seemed like a good idea to reschedule.

At eleven I went out for lunch with Thuy (Trang's sister). She insists on taking me somewhere nice and always refuses to let me pay, even when I'm the one who initiates the going out. Last time I tried to pay for our milk tea but she took the money out of the cashier's hand and gave it back to me. I told her that if we were going to go out for food and drinks she should at least let me pay for drinks, but she told me that if I was going to pay for drinks we just wouldn't go out for drinks anymore. So. So we had lunch today: grilled shrimp in tamarind sauce, soup with fish meatballs and bitter melon, and clams in fish sauce. I wore my new heels and had a funny realization. If I wear four-inch heels in the US I am just less short; wearing four-inch heels in Vietnam makes me a towering giant.

My precious(es)

We had milk tea after lunch, but we went to a new place this time. Walking through that doorway was like walking out of Vietnam. There was effective air-conditioning. There was wi-fi. There were foreigners inside! It was surreal. It was the kind of place I sometimes wish for, but didn't know existed, much less within reasonable walking distance from the college. I don't know that I'll feel the need to go back, but it's nice to know it exists.

Much to my surprise, the teacher's English club went rather well today. I think my steadily decreasing expectations have as much to do with my satisfaction as any potential improvement might. I went in with the seed of a lesson plan, and it blossomed pretty nicely as I went along. I asked them to brainstorm words we can use to describe someone. They started with physical descriptors, and then I ushered them towards personality traits. After getting a good word bank I asked them to choose three words they would use to describe themselves. When we shared answers, with their help, I ended up being dubbed 'curvy (my word, for the sake of expanding vocabulary), creative, and cute (their suggestion). I probably would have finished my three with 'optimistic', but I liked the alliteration and wanted to honor their contribution. Next was three qualities they liked about themselves and three qualities they didn't like. Next was five words you think other people would use to describe you. I asked them each to give one word to describe me, and I was lovely, enthusiastic, confident, kind, and creative. It sounds like a short lesson, but between explaining new words and discussing with partners and then sharing with the class, it easily filled the time.

Now that's a word bank if there ever was one

Improving my pronunciation

Wednesday night I tossed and turned and ended up figuring out my lesson plan for my first drawing class next week. I don't know if the lesson planning kept me awake or if the sleeplessness led to the planning. Probably both. Then, when I received my April schedule yesterday, the drawing class wasn't listed. It turns out I won't be teaching drawing after all. I guess I really do have to stick to not believing something is going to happen until it is happening. Silly me for thinking that signing paperwork and discussing definitive dates and times was enough of a guarantee. I'm disappointed, but focusing on the silver lining of having my Thursday nights stay free.

Somehow, I never got around to sharing the results of my Translation class evaluations. Below are some notable replies.
What lessons or activities did you like? Why?:

• The activity I like is translate. One student read in English and one translate. Because its help me improve my speaking and listening skills. 
• I like standing in class and practising translation with teacher and my friends. It makes me confident and improve the other skills. 
• I like lessons or activities that the teacher offers. For example, the teacher asks the class to translate into English and Vietnamese. Because this can help us be confident in translation. And I can study more words and structure of sentences that help me avoid many errors when I write.

Other comments or suggestions:

• The teacher was very well. But the problems is on my own (myself). Sometimes I feel a little confused on oral translation. You are very skillful, very well. Don't worry!
• Teacher usually teaches over time, teacher should note about time because you and we are very tired, so we can't understand the lesson more :(

My favorite, however, was this reply to the question, "What is something the teacher could improve?": "Sometimes, I can't understand your pronunciation."

The most significant data is the reactions to "I would feel comfortable translating in a real-life situation." Only one student chose 'disagree'; 11, 'neither agree nor disagree'; 19, 'agree', and 3 'strongly agree'. Of course, since I didn't ask them this at the start of the course I don't know whether their comfort was caused by the class, but it feels good to know that, regardless of how things started, at least half of the students feel comfortable and capable.

Today I was supposed to have a Vietnamese lesson with Trang in the morning and then go out to lunch with her sister. However, about half an hour into our lesson, Trang got an upsetting text message and proceeded to have a drawn out texting session. And when I say drawn out I mean I fell asleep in my cafe chair and when I woke up thirty minutes later it was still going on. I suggested that Trang take me home and deal with whatever was afoot.

I met Thuy at the appointed time and we proceeded to have a blast. We had our usual massive lunch and then Thuy took me to a nearby shop so I could try on a dress I'd been eyeing every time I'm driven past it. It was neither surprising nor terribly disturbing to find that the dress didn't fit quite right, but Thuy seemed to have adopted a mission and took me to another store. I didn't find a dress, but I found the most fantastic pair of shoes. I tried them on just for fun, but they were just too amazing to deny. They came home with me. Our next stop was the milk tea place I go to with my students. I added lychee and hazelnut (we got two) to the list of flavors I've tried and Thuy helped me translate all of the flavor options so I can both boast a slightly expanded vocabulary and know exactly what all of my options are the next time I go. We had a great time and what with the feast and the two beverages we were bursting at the seams by the time she dropped me off at the college.

Season-irrelevant decor at the milk tea place

In the late afternoon, waves of rumbling gave way to sheets of pelting rain. I was lucky to be inside already, but I went and opened the door to enjoy the dramatic view and fresh scent of rain. I would expect locals to think me crazy for doing so, but given that they were all inside hiding there was no one to see my deviant behavior. When the rain got too horizontal I went back inside and watched the rain blow in under the door. The power went out soon after the tremendous but brief rainstorm, and I had to ask myself why (it seems) the college karaoke setup is hooked up to a backup generator but nothing else is.

Everywhere you want to be

I dreamed that there were giant cockroaches scurrying around, except they looked more like a cross between a cockroach and a centipede and were the size of guinea pigs. There were also fast-moving lemon-sherbet-colored slugs with black polka dots. I was a little reluctant to get out of bed in the morning.

In the morning I had a meeting with Ms. Thu, one of the teachers I work with. Next semester I will be teaching her class about the US. She's giving me a lot of freedom and I'm really excited about what I can turn this class into.

Then, I needed to meet with my second-year students who are preparing for their final presentations. My favorite mistake was one point in a presentation about how to help impoverished children: "widen your arms for the poor children." It's not really that bad, but I had a sudden mental image of people working on fattening their arms for the sake of the poor children.

In the evening we went out for dinner as part of the ongoing series of pre-departure events for Morena. On the way, we passed a street that usually sells stuffed animals, but now was selling tiny Santa costumes. Apparently it is traditional in Vietnam to dress your children like Santa for Christmas. Trang also informed me that I look "charming, attractive, and sexy" when I wear a dress, but "mature and not at all sexy" when I wear a two-piece dress, aka shirt and skirt.

Note the future mini-Santa in the lower right corner

While some people waited for the food, some of us zipped over to the night market. My third time this week. I took the opportunity to take some photos of absurd English shirts. I tried to try on a pair of shorts, but the XL pair didn't make it too far past my knees. Sigh. At dinner I decided it was time to ask how to say 'bigger' and 'too small.'

"As described on the NASA Aquarius website, by measuring
ocean salinity from space, Aquarius will provide new insights..."

"Shocking new research: BEAUTYFUL"

Most eye conditions what?

Best news of the day: I have my passport back! With a proper visa!

Keeping secrets

Sunday
We were to be intrepid fishermen, venturing into the green and brown unknown, sending lines into the depths, and pulling them out only when they strained against the weight of our would-be lunch. Or at least that's how I imagined it, but it was not to be. Our fishing expedition was actually to an open-air restaurant with rods for rent and murky waters allegedly filled with fish. Moreover, you were obligated to keep whatever bit, pay for the fish, and then pay for it to be prepared. It was decided that we would just order food, rather than fish. It was disappointing, but it made sense.

Entrance to where we did not fish

What we ate instead, part 1

What we ate instead, part 2

Out of the pot and into my bowl

On the way back I had a happy language moment. Vietnamese has many words taken from Chinese, and Trang informed me that they are generally considered more beautiful, poetic, intellectual, and elite than their Vietnamese counterparts. She cited a line from poetry as an example: 'the moon becomes the moon.' The first 'moon' is in Vietnamese; the second is in Vietnamese Chinese. So, literally translated it seems odd, but in Vietnamese it is clear that this mundane moon becomes a poetically beautiful moon (perhaps upon the arrival of one's lover). 

In the afternoon Trang invited me and Morena over to her house to fry spring rolls with some students she tutors. When I arrived I was told that they had Never Ever spoken English before. Though they have all studied English for nine years, they have only studied reading and writing. Let me repeat: they have been taught English, except for the extremely necessary components of speaking and listening. Understandably, they were hesitant, nervous, and excited to speak with me. After the frying there was the requisite photoshoot, a group photo and then a photo of each one with me and Morena on either side. Some of the girls decided to perform a dance routine for us. Trang's father arrived, unexpectedly, and decided to join the fray. After we ate a guitar materialized and he provided musical accompaniment for everyone bold or goaded enough to sing. Morena and I reprised our single Vietnamese song. [I forgot to mention, we also sang this in response to the river tour guide's serenading of us on the boat.] Suddenly Trang asked me if I knew 'The Yellow Rose of Texas.' Well, I knew it as well as anyone does; I knew the tune and the first line. I couldn't believe the surrealism of being halfway around the world and having a Vietnamese person request that I sing that song. Below, enjoy the last few seconds of our 'singing.'

The other end of the table

As the evening drew to a close, Kim Long took me to the city center to buy more yarn. Kim Long is Mr. Luan's assistant and she is my age. Her English is somewhat better than my Vietnamese, but we still have a hard time communicating. Last night, though we found a common language: shopping! At the night market she bought me a cutesy 'Engrish' (somewhat derogatory name for the hilarious pseudo English found abroad) shirt and I bought myself a pseudo-Vietnamese shirt. The only part that I could read was the first line, which says I (masculine) love you (feminine). I later received a full translation from Trang: "I love you. You are sunshine and without sunshine the dew cannot glitter." Not total nonsense, but nonetheless entertaining. I also accomplished my longstanding goal of acquiring a true Vietnamese hoodie. By that I mean a hoodie like the one almost all of my students have: two colors, diagonal zipper, and rainbow cuffs. Mine is black and red, a color combination I actually haven't seen on anyone else. I'm sure you'll see me in it soon enough.

Monday
Because this is Morena's last week, this is also the week where we fulfill all of her last wishes. Today, that meant going out for bia hoi, unpasteurized fresh beer. This being Vietnam, it was decided that this needed to happen at 11am. Fortunately, beer was accompanied by a lunch feast, and lunch was good. Fried rice, fish and green mango salad, a pork dish, a fish dish, and a hotpot finale of course.

First three and best three courses

In the evening we were supposed to go to My Tho, a city in Tien Giang, the neighboring province, to go shopping at its night market. However, about an hour before the teachers were going to pick us up, they canceled on us. As luck would have it, Morena and I were with a student who proceeded to offer to take us herself. We accepted. Here's the thing -- I'm not supposed to leave the province (or do pretty much anything) without asking permission or at least telling someone, and I'm not supposed to let students take me places on their bikes or motorbikes. So, I felt like quite the rebellious (no longer) teenager as I set off into the night, not so secretly since we have to pass the security gate and bike through town on our way.

After about 30 or 40 minutes we arrived in My Tho and started with dinner. I continued my rebellious streak by choosing two differently colored chopsticks. You may laugh, but my students found it quite unsettling.

Rebellion, I tell you!

 This night market is way bigger than Ben Tre's, which is about the length of one block, and perhaps even bigger than Hanoi's. It sprawls and winds and mazes around and even has carnival rides for kids. It was happening.

And then it went beyond Engrish...

It was a great night with friends, a successful shopping venture (two tank tops and a pair of shorts), and a taste of rebellion (or just independence) with no consequences as of this writing. If anyone asks, I stayed in tonight.

Mom + Vietnam: Hanoi

Friday
Due to our overzealously early departure from Ben Tre, our delayed flight out of HCMC, and the hour-long drive in from the airport, we had quite a long day of traveling. By the time we finally made it in, it was almost dark and we were hungry. We headed towards the lake and found a cơm bình dân (rice etc.) place along the way. This is something that doesn't really exist, or at least not in the same way, in the south, so I was excited for my mom to try it. It was a popular place and had quite the variety of et ceteras, but because of the prime location by the lake, the prices were rather steep.

From there, we swung by a few souvenir shops on our way to the rooftop café that I frequented when I lived in Hanoi. In our enjoyment of the view, we forgot to actually walk down to the lake's edge, and only admired it from afar.

View from the top

On the way back we walked through the night market, and I stumbled into the easiest bargain ever. I spotted a pair of turquoise heels that happened to be in my size. As I tried them on, it occurred to me that I should ask how much they cost. The conversation went something like this:
- How much?
- 300.
- Whoa! Too much.
- 200.
- Enh.
- 150.
How could I say no to that? I only wondered if I should have actually tried and gotten the price even lower. Somewhere in the middle of that he also asked me if I was from/lived in southern Vietnam. Sounds like I've got an accent.

Saturday
After a slow breakfast Mom and I went to the Hanoi Fine Arts Museum. I never got to see it while I was here in August, so it was part of the unfinished business I hoped to get to on this trip. It was the first museum I've been to in Vietnam that really felt like a museum - not poorly lit, overheated, or water-stained. The art was arranged chronologically, starting with works from about 3000 years ago. Some of those ancient works were Đông Sơn bronze drums, whose decorations I recognized as still-popular motifs whose origin I had previously wondered about. In addition to learning about Vietnam's rich art history, I expanded my vocabulary thanks to the Vietnamese/French/English labels for all of the works of art. The next two floors showed the influence of French Impressionism, silk paintings, modern experimental lacquer paintings, and works representing and responding to the country's history of conflict. It was a lot to take in, in a good way. We spent two hours there and it would have been nice to have maybe one more, but we had to cut our visit short to prepare for Thanksgiving with the Ambassador.

Me, my mom, and eleven other ETAs headed to 'The Residence' as indicated on our invitations. We arrived, and after being stared at by someone behind the gate, we were told that there was no one there. It seemed we had gone to the wrong place. I told my mom she was in the midst of a very Vietnam experience. Eventually we made it to the right place, and enjoyed hors d'oeuvres on the rooftop, looking out over the city. Once we were done mingling, we were summoned inside to heap our gold-rimmed US china plates with long-awaited Thanksgiving fare. I ended up sitting at the Ambassador's table, next to him, in fact.

State Department china

The whole group

By the time the homemade apple pie was gone, several hours of easy conversation had passed, and it was time to say thanks and good night.

We ETAs proceeded to a concert hosted by the American Club, featuring Dengue Fever, a band I discovered and fell in love with back when they performed at Scripps a few years ago. We ended up getting in for free thanks to our Embassy connections, and it was a blast.

My view of the stage

The stage's view of me (lower left)

Sunday
Mom decided that she couldn't come all the way to Vietnam, then come all the way to Hanoi, and then not make it to Ha Long Bay, now 'provisionally named' one of the New Seven Wonders of  Nature. We started with an exquisite multi-course meal, made all the more exquisite by the fact at our table three shared a meal meant for four.

Next, we buckled on our life-vests and spent some time kayaking in the bay. Last time I came to Ha Long, the area we kayaked was so crowded with fellow tourists it almost felt like bumper cars. This time, my mom and I were the only ones who kayaked, and we had the inlet all to ourselves. It was a different inlet than last time, and there were tunnels under the karsts for us to paddle through. Unfortunately, the safest place for my camera was back on the big boat, so no pictures of our adventures. After that had our cave visit.

We only had time for a day trip, so all too soon we had to head back to dry land. Because it was a day trip, we spent almost eight hours on a bus, round trip, for five hours on the bay. Even though I was not 100% convinced at first, it was totally worth it, even bearing in mind that I'd already been there. When I was last there it was still summer and the landscape was clear and blue and green; now it was winter and gray and misty. You couldn't see as far, so it was hard to perceive the magnitude of the bay, but it took on a whole new personality.

Photo credit: Mom

We didn't get back to Hanoi until eight pm, but the day was far from over. I was determined that my mom see and experience as much of Hanoi as our limited time allowed. First order of business was dinner and, once again, we set out for the lake. Once upon a time, back when I was living in Hanoi, I happened upon a corner food stand that looked interesting, but we were headed somewhere or we had already eaten and we did not stop there. I had no idea where it was, and I never got to eat there. However, the route I charted towards the lake ended up taking us to that very same corner, and I got to check off Hanoi unfinished business number two. I discovered that the name of the dish is mý vằn thắn, and it is a noodle soup with dumplings, hard boiled egg, meat, liver, stuffed crunchy things, and a few other mystery ingredients for good measure. It was, as always, delicious.

How many ingredients can you spot?

When time came to pay, I asked, in Vietnamese, how much. She didn't seem to hear me so, in Vietnamese, I called her attention and asked again. As you can kind of see in the picture above, it was a tiny place and four of us patrons were sitting practically shoulder to shoulder to enjoy the corner's delights. Anyway, the cook fumbled around in her cash receptacle to pull out the amount of money I needed to give her. Our fellow patrons started exclaiming, repeating the words that I'd said, and from context clues it was pretty clear that they were indignant on my behalf. My Vietnamese inquiries should have indicated to her that she could have just told me how much instead of going to the trouble of demonstrating. With that little feather in my cap, we continued on towards the lake.

They have added many colorful lights since I was living there, so the lake at night was a new sight even for me. We took a leisurely stroll around it, taking a detour for young rice ice cream.

Bridge to the pagoda on the island in the lake

Pagoda guardian by night

The ice cream was from a place that's been around for over 50 years. It was something I really wanted my mom to try (and, honestly, just really wanted to have again), but I was worried that it would be closed. Fortunately, it was still bustling by the time we arrived, and my cravings were fulfilled. It was even better than I remembered, and a sweet conclusion to our bustling weekend in Hanoi.

Also, 100th post!