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.

Details

"The truth of the story lies in the details."  - Paul Auster

As much as I try to focus on the positive here, I can't pretend that I don't get homesick, sometimes more often than I'd like to admit. It can be hard to be forthcoming about it because I know that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity (an expression I taught my students the other day), and that I should be grateful for it and make the most of it. But I can be appreciative and homesick at the same time, right?

In Vietnamese culture, the idea of someone being alone is inextricably linked with their being sad. So, people here go out of their way to make sure I have company. The thought that people here care about me and want to spend time with me does indeed make me happy, but sometimes I just need some me time. When the day draws to a close and I am ready to finally exhale, it can be frustrating to suddenly discover that I will have to keep smiling for another hour. In these moments, culturally (mis)informed efforts to lift my mood have the opposite effect. Moreover, they make everything else that people do out of kindness (e.g. feeding me or cleaning or rearranging) all the more frustrating, augmented by the fact that I lack the vocabulary to politely ask them to stop.

I ask myself altogether too often whether I made the right choice in coming here, and whether I am really cut out for this. I remind myself that things are barely beginning, and that in a few months I will probably feel much more confident, comfortable, and capable. But for now, being limited in language, schedule, and space isn't easy.

I am reluctant to write this because I don't want people to think that I am generally unhappy. Most of the time, I am not. I laugh at my misadventures and know that they will make for a better story. Everything that I have written in past posts, the outlook that I have represented in those posts, it is all true. But this is true too.



Moving on to the better part of the day:
I had the luxury of sleeping in today, and waking up at 1030 felt like waking up at noon. I reluctantly turned down Trang's lunch invitation but this gave me a nice big chunk of me time that, as you can judge from the above, I really needed. I had the meat moon cake for lunch instead, something that greatly distressed Trang, since the idea of lunch without rice was as atrocious to her as the idea of ice cream for breakfast is to an American parent.

Moon cake, view 1

Moon cake, interior view

In the afternoon it was time for my scheduled bike-riding practice with Ms. My. I was very pleased that she let me bike on my own this time. Even though it seemed like the entire college community was at the canteen or hanging off of balconies to watch my stuttering starts, I pedaled on. I am finally starting to believe the expression "it's just like riding a bike." Straight lines are my forte, but my starts are still wobbly and my turn radius needs to decrease. Thinking about how to improve my wide turns, I remembered when my mom took me to practice u-turns when I was learning to drive. I found myself a small patch of cement (bonus points for being out of the public eye) that was ideally suited to biking in circles. If I didn't turn, I would have to stop or fall into a ditch. I couldn't string a lot of turns together, but I definitely improved. My future goal is to do figure eights in that space. As I biked I explored some areas of campus I have yet to visit on foot, and discovered a bridge over a river that I want to photograph tomorrow. On several instances, I relived variations of my mom's childhood story of almost running down her teacher while riding a bicycle, except in my case it was a small child, a teacher, and a parked motorcycle. No one was injured, and no collisions took place.

When I finished my bike practice, Mr. Hung Vũ (one of the teachers, if I mis-tone Vũ it becomes the word for nipple) treated Ms. My and me to some refreshments at the canteen. She ordered a glass of yogurt and ice. It seemed odd yet enticing. I'll have to try it one of these days. Afterward, Ms. My came over to help move my furniture. Last week I got that armoire that seemed too big to fit anywhere, but Ms. My was durn-tootin' determined to fit it in my room between my bed and my desk. I had tried it earlier that day when I was doing my daily furniture rearranging workout, and it didn't fit. I tried to tell her this, but she went to get her measuring tape to prove that it had to fit. Measuring tapes don't lie, so with some shoving and nudging of furniture we got it to fit. Things are so snug now I think my days of rearranging are over.

Tonight Trang took me and Ms. My out to dinner, and we had vegetarian bánh cuốn nông. It was kind of like a bunch of small warm spring rolls under a pile of sprouts and leaves and crunchy things, with a few slices of imitation meat. But, imitation meat aside, it was much better than my description makes it sound. I even mixed in about half of the generous dollop of chili on the side of my plate. Biking and voluntarily making my food spicy -- all I need to achieve my trifecta of life skill goals is to start cooking for myself. To wrap up the meal, Trang ordered us a very unphotogenic Thai banana with some sort of pudding/tapioca/coconut sauce.

Bánh cuốn nông

...dessert...

Here is the next adventure

When I concluded my Parma blog a little over a year ago, I posted a picture asking, "Where is the next adventure?" At that time I didn't know when or whether there would be a next adventure; I just knew I hoped for one. I don't think I could have imagined where I am headed next. For the next ten months, thanks infinite to the Fulbright organization [see disclaimer about how this blog does not represent the views of the U. S. government, etc.], I will be living in Vietnam and teaching beginner English to university-aged students. I will be spending my first month receiving training in Hanoi, in the North, with the other 14 ‘Fulbrighters’. After that, I will be on my own, teaching in Ben Tre City, which is in the South.

When someone in my generation hears that I’m going to Vietnam, the usual response is general curiosity. “Why Vietnam?” or “I know so-and-so who went there and loved it.” Move one generation up and the reaction changes. I think it’s fair to say that for most Americans of any age, any mention of Vietnam triggers a mental leapfrog straight to the Vietnam War, but for people who weren’t around for it that just means that they know no reason to go there in particular. For people who were, that association comes with a memory of strong reasons to not go. Sometimes people say it outright, sometimes it’s in their face, but for people of that generation, the word Vietnam is heavy; the place is painful. Someone told me he lost his best friend there. So, let’s answer everybody’s first question. With a confession.

Every time someone asks me “Why Vietnam?” I am forced to ask it of myself. Why did I choose Vietnam? There are two kinds of answers. The first kind is the kind I have given to most people who asked; it is the kind that is not quite true and not quite false, but that I think might sound best. It is some combination of the following:

1. Something about wanting to go to Asia, and Vietnam not having a language requirement
2. Something about wanting to learn a new language
3. Something about having a pre-existing connection to or familiarity with the culture because of having grown up in Houston

All of these are true, but they are not the full truth. Honestly, I applied to Vietnam because:

1. Based on last year my odds were better if I applied to Vietnam than to most other countries
2. I figured I could make a good case for myself
3. I applied on a whim and never thought I would get it anyway 
(Note that 3 is kind of in opposition to 1 and 2. So much for logic.)
4. The food. No further explanation needed.

I guess I’m glad I didn’t apply to Mongolia, which was another option based on reason 1 – until I realized I would not be an effective teacher once I became an icicle.

So, I whipped together an application in a few weeks and in the process realized that I had surprisingly relevant credentials: teaching English in Italy, teaching Spanish in the US, several languages already under my belt. After I completed my interview, the din of everything else in my life, a.k.a. Thesis, put post-graduation life more or less in the back of my mind, mostly drowning the nagging voice that insisted I be more proactive. Then, in January, I got an email saying that I was a finalist… and that finalists have a very – Very – high chance of actually receiving the award. I spent a couple days in shock. As I said, I never expected this to become a reality. But, once I got over my shock, I realized that if the odds described were accurate, I had an excuse to continue to ignore that nagging voice and continue to pretend like I didn’t need to be looking for a job. The other part of that email, though, was that I might not find out until as late as July. So, in moments of paranoia, that voice would pipe up again; what if I sat around waiting until July, and then didn’t get it?

Luckily, that was not the case. I just had to wait until the end of April to get that yes, which was almost as scary as getting a no would have been. Even though I received the award I didn’t have to say yes, but how could I say no to this opportunity? I pulled it together, got my rally cap on, hitched up my britches, and any other relevant expressions you can think of, and set my mind to it. I would be living in Vietnam for ten months. I would move to a country of whose language I don’t speak a smidgen, hoping to leave sounding more articulate than a four year old, trying to teach other people another language at the same time. Sounds like the makings of an adventure. 

Now, here I am, starting my second travel blog, though ‘travel blog’ seems like a misnomer. I will be elsewhere, and new experiences will abound, but this won’t be the annals of a life of leisure. There will be trials and tribulations and, if anything is to be learned from last time, transportation mishaps. I look forward to the miscommunications, the rhetorical falling and standing up again, to the vịt lộn, and to everything else I can’t even imagine. I hope you come with me.


P. S. A closing confession:
I actually wrote most of this in May, but I figured it was too early to start blogging back then. Now, exactly two weeks from my departure, my life feels like it is accelerating and it is time to begin.