Short Acting Career

A lot of posts from me this month, a good way to start the year I think.

Daphne and I went to a themed potluck on Saturday called Latitudinal Cuisine. It originated in the UK and has spread to our humble Siagon. The basis is that you choose a Latitude or Longitude and everyone brings a dish from one of the countries that lies on the line. This week we did Longitude 15E. Presentations are made, stories are told and then very delicious food is eaten.

Should I Stay Or Should I Go Now?

Stuck at home, sick, on a Saturday I realize that it's been a while since I've posted anything. My initial excuse would be that there hasn't been anything worth writing about, but is that fair? Perhaps then I should take it as sign that I need to be out there doing more interesting stuff or maybe I've been here so long already that I've lost the ability to find what makes the things in my life extraordinary. I'm inclined to think it may be a bit of both.

Not able to find things of interest to outside, I began looking in. I helped Daphne out by making her a website for her yoga: www.daphnechua.com. And also took some new yoga pictures for her, as she has just been sponsored by a local clothing company: www.yborn.net/home/.





I looked even further in and started taking Mandarin on Rosetta Stone. I now know more Chinese than Vietnamese. Why am I not taking Vietnamese instead? Learning languages is difficult for me so I want to use my energy to learn one that I want to know forever, rather than just one that I'll use for a year or two.

I was fortunate to have three people this past month that pulled me out and reminded me that I was living some place different and special. The first was my university mate, Zane, who has just come here to do his CELTA[for which I got a $200 referral fee] at ILA and teach English here. He described things that to me were ordinary in a way that made everything glow. For him everything shined like the sun, while I was still squinting to see the stars. As we taught him simple words and numbers, and he told us about the things that he saw on his first day and the people he talked to, I felt nostalgia for the naivety that comes with being some place new and that I too felt just a year before.

Later that same week, our friend, Bret, who had done the CELTA with us came for a brief visit. He has been living and working in Shanghai and was now on a six week paid vacation traveling through Vietnam and Cambodia. He wanted me to take him shooting around Saigon, something I hadn't done since after my first couple of months here. So on his last day I drove him to District Five, China town, and we walked about all afternoon taking photographs. ...

[Bret shows these guys the photo he took of them]

[Vietnamese grannies are cute, no?]

[Obviously, he didn't get it]

[I took this with one of Bret's lenses. After he left, I placed a long overdue order for two new lenses of my own]

[Cupping, removes toxins from your body, leaves giant hickeys]

[These kids will sell you a lion mask for a good price]

[While I go through great lengths to take mediocre shots, I hand feed great material to Bret on the ground below]

Bret was hardly gone when Daphne had a friend from Singapore visit us on their International Day weekend. Yvonne is actually Taiwanese so we can forgive her lack of patriotism for leaving The Red Dot on its biggest day of the year. Since Daphne was working most of Friday, I was left alone with her friend on tour guide duty. I took her rock climbing for her first time, as well as a few of my other favourite places.
"Just for you reference, that was a red light."
"And just for your reference, a bribe is only ten dollars."
Whenever she tried something new for the first time, it almost felt like I was trying it for the first time, too. Food tasted better, the coffee was stronger and sweeter and everything was beginning to look fresh again.

Now that my contract at ILA is coming to a close I've had to spend the last few months contemplating on what comes next. Do I stay another year or try somewhere else? My three visitors were like prophets pointing the way, they showed what glitters when I was hard at seeing. I'm thinking it's stay.

From Goat Barbecue To Sheraton Ball Room

I've been getting more comfortable with planning lessons over the months. No longer do I need thirty minutes to an hour the day before to plan my lessons. Now, I just open the book fifteen minutes before class and I know what I'm going to teach and how. This has really helped having a social life, too. So even if I have to wake up at 5:30am to get ready for school, I can still go out on the weekends.
After class on Saturday, Daphne and I went to meet our friend Rob[the one that crashed my bike a couple months back] and some of his work friends at a local goat place. It was a big place with a very small menu: steamed goat, roasted goat, grilled goat, sour mixed goat. The food was really good, we ordered the steamed goat which came in a large clay hotpot with goat meat, goat brain, and some other parts of the goat we couldn't identify but were delicious none the less. One of the guys notices that a lot of the servers are at the doorway watching some drama going on outside. As we're debating what they could be rubbernecking about, I decided to be nosey and go have a look. Just outside was a tow truck with a very familiar motorbike loaded on the back. I run up to the tow man yelling, "My bike! My bike! What are you doing to my bike!" The towman and the officer nearby were more than a little surprised to see me. They were expecting to tow conflict free, and in that area of town they least expected to see a foreigner come out yelling at them. Neither of them could speak English, and the towman was already making movements to unload my bike, keeping his eyes on the officer for the go-ahead. The officer was confused, tried to explain something, but failing through the language barrier. I hand him my ownership papers. A nearby local who speak some English asked the translated question of whether the bike was mine or a rental. I lied, saying that I rented, as I am unlicensed I would surely have gotten my bike taken away if I admitted to owning it. Thankfully, the bike was lowered and my papers handed back to me. Apparently, where I parked it was for a food stall that had closed up since I had been eating my goat and all the other bikes had left with it, leaving just mine. There was an official parking lot across the way that I was supposed to park in. What luck. To have noticed the servers watching when I did, and to have been nosey enough to inquire about it. I would've been rather sore to have come out of there and not had my bike anywhere in sight? Where do you go if your bike gets towed here? How do you even know it was towed and not stolen? Not a clue. And I'd be happy if I never had to find out.
Last night we had our company Christmas party. They had it at the Sheraton with a massive buffet and free flowing open bar. It was nice event and the food was excellent, but the down side was that since the school had so many employees and the Sheraton was so expensive, we couldn't bring any guests. Daphne talked me into going anyways and made dinner arrangements with our friend Rob[of crashing motorbikes] so I wouldn't feel guilty for going without her. Luckily, instead of stamping hands when we entered, some people got stickers on their shoulders that didn't do a good job sticking. It wasn't long until stickers were finding their ways off of ILA shoulders and onto those of Daphne and Rob. When we were heading home, the garage security was asking for another 15000VND on top of the 8000VND I had already paid for parking. The average price of parking in the city is 3-5oooVND. I kept a smile, shook my head and told him, 'no, pay already' over and over, pretending that his English wasn't good enough for me to understand. When he finally said, 'you pay more, you know, you foreigner,' the smile came off my face and the engine turned on. He quietly moved himself out of my way and pretended not to notice. Up the ramp we went and into the night.

Chicken Rice Full Moon

Halloween and a full moon, what good luck. Back in Ohio, I remember that the commute between my university and Cincinnati would go through a forest rich in autumn colours. While there the weather cools and the green browns, in Saigon what trees there are haven't changed their hue and won't. The dry season will be starting soon, however, so that'll be a first for me.
My school goes crazy for Halloween, kids go from room to room asking for candy, and then throwing paper at each other. They prefer tricks over treats. After my class got raided by a neighbouring room, we dropped in on them to exact revenge. The other class held the door fast to prevent our entry as my students struggled to get the door opened. In the push and pull the door actually broke off the dry wall. Oops.
Also, the younger kids got to pay a visit to the ILA haunted 'house', a converted classroom on the fifth floor across from the bathrooms.


My students were so scared to go in, only three in a class of eighteen even tried, of those only two made it through. And there were many tears. My favorite part of Halloween? I got to wear flip flops instead of dress shoes to work as part of my pirate 'costume'. First time my feet didn't hurt at the end of a weekend.
Halloween night Daphne and I joined our friends and former CELTA colleagues, Rob and Sylven, at Muntaz for some Indian food and then went to the club up in the Sheraton for their Halloween party to meet up with my roommate, Anh. It was a good time, but having to wake up at 5am the next morning for work, I couldn't stay out that long.
Today, my real weekend[Monday], we had several errands to run through out the day. Taking lunch at a chicken rice place, we got into a bit of a disagreement with the proprietor. First, never ask for chicken, or you end up getting fish. The words are very similar but the inflection is opposite. So 'asking' chicken yields fish. But we do get our chicken,regretting we didn't get the fish instead, which was cold and chewy. Finishing the meal, we got the bill and it was for 134,000 VND[$7USD]. Ok, so this probably doesn't seem like much, but this is Vietnam. It shouldn't have been half that price. The chicken rice was 90,000 and should've been more like 45-50,000. I had a word with the owner and called foul. Put 105 on the table[still more than I should] and she got angry. She blocked the entrance, threatening to call the cops. Daphne and I told her to go ahead, we weren't going to pay the other 30, not because its expensive, but for the principle. She fiddled with her phone but kept putting it away and instead yelling at passing locals to bare witness. But I could tell by their faces that she wasn't winning favour with them. Especially after I showed them another customer's receipt I had found there, showing that they were charged only 40,000 for the chicken rice. In the end, both Daphne and I had reached our time limit for how long our principles would hold out against a dispute over $1.50. So I paid up and we left. Outside, one of the women watching walked with us and motioned that the place was bad and not worth coming back to. For Anh's two cents, he said, 'so basically what happened was, you were white in Vietnam.' But usually when a merchant gets caught gauging they correct themselves. This woman just went berserk, not willing to lose face in front of me, but instead losing face in front of her neighbours. My two cents? People go crazy when the moon is full.

What Happens at T & R

The best laid plans...Wednesday was the first day of my Vietnamese lessons, a free perk of the job, but before going I had a plan laid out for the morning. I was going to go climbing, even woke up earlier so I'd have time, but I had to stop by the bikeshop first to get my motto fixed. What was wrong with it? I'll get to that later...
I was planning on stopping back at the house after climbing for a shower and change of clothes before class. The class was taught at the same school I teach at, but only for us teachers, and taught by one of the Vietnamese TA's. The school has a dress code for teachers that we have to follow even if we come in on a day off: pants, tucked shirt, tie and shoes. I don't adhere to this, but I still didn't want to come to school in my sweat-stained climbing clothes.
So, a bowl of cereal later, I'm downstairs driving to the bikeshop. The repairs end up taking FOREVER. I was getting the bike rim replaced because its was dented, but I also got talked into a much needed replacement of my gear chains, an oil change, tighter brakes and I had to replace a passenger footrest that came off somehow. The chains take quite a bit of time to do, my ice coffee long drained. My butt goes numb from sitting on a metal stool that is barely a foot off the ground. After the mechanic's done with that there's still the rim to do. So he hands it over to another worker and motions for me that we need to go eat. He speaks no English. So we go around the corner and have a small lunch at a rice stall. I get some eel with ginger and meat stuffed tofu. The mechanic keeps trying to guide me through how I should eat. Showing me to wipe the chopsticks before use, making sure I drank my soup, that I used a spoon for the rice instead of sticks and even told me to wipe my mouth at the end! When we get back the wheel's done and I pay up. But when I drive a few meters down the road I can tell that the bike still has the same problem that I brought it in for. So with a quick u-turn I'm back at the spot shaking my head. The mechanic takes the bike for another spin, comes back and questioned me with the gestures of his arms whether I had crashed it into something. No, I try to explain, but...
The night before, not drunk but drinking, I had convinced my friend, Rob, that he needed to have a lesson, then and there, since the streets were pretty empty and he was still afraid of getting a bike. Rob, drinking and drunk, though I didn't think him to be, agreed very reluctantly under my ill advised persuasion. Outside of T&R Tavern I began to explain how the bike works, but he had already had a lesson and supposedly knew, so I got on the back and told him to drive to the end of the ally. Which he did. The short way. He drove across the street, straight into the metal shutters of a business that was thankfully closed. No fear, family and friends, there are no injuries to report at such a low speed and distance. After I managed to get him, to stop saying 'oh my god' repeatedly and turn the bike off I found myself laughing, as well as our friends across the street. Rob was the only one that wasn't. He was shaken with guilt and was down with a drop in confidence that he'll ever drive a bike again. I gave him a ride home, then noticing that my bike was having difficulty maintaining a straight line and that it kept wanting to turn left. Rob did the gentlemanly thing, offering to pay for repairs, but I declined. Partially because it was my fault for not knowing better than to let him drive drunk[without really knowing how to drive at all], and also because bike repairs are cheap to do, even at the worst of times.
So anyways, I try to gesture what happened to the mechanic, and he tells me that the bike has to get its frame hammered even. So he drives it off, I sit my self down on the stool that an eight year old would feel too grown up for, and look at my watch noticing that I have an hour till class. No time to climb. No time to even shower. So I leave my bike in their hands, after finding out its going to take an hour to fix, and grab a xe om[motorbike taxi] to school. Walking in with my helmet still on, ashamed to show my unkempt hair.
I had to take a driver back, too and got caught in some nasty rain, my coat still attached to my bike. But the bike was fixed and is now in better shape than ever before, so I guess that can count as a happy ending. Moral of the story: teach 'brake' before you teach 'accelerate'. There's another one too, can you guess what is?

[Side note: For those on the other side of the world watching the news about all the bad weather, I am in a pretty safe spot. We don't get earthquakes, and it is central Vietnam that gets the typhoons and flooding every year, not the south where I am. Plus, the Philippines serves as a protective wall against tsunamis(sorry Philippines). So aside from daily rains, nothing to worry about in my slice of Asia.]

Corporate Teacher

Woke up this morning wanting to get on Skype and chat with Daphne, only to find that the power was out in the building. A quick change later and I was in the street on my motorbike, looking for a wifi hotspot. Settled for a chain French bakery, Tous Les Jours, that has some pretty yummy, properly French and cheap baked goods. Daphne was also at a wifi hotspot in Dharamshala so we had breakfast together while we talked. What I'd do without technology, I don't know.
Last night, I had plans to meet some friends at Vasco's for a live band from Canada, Handsome Furs. So I got off of work, picked up some street food on the way for a quick dinner, and brought it home. But just as I got home and was out of my work clothes Aimee, one of the many academic managers at my school, calls and politely ask where I am. Turns out, I had a new class to teach and no one had told me. So Aimee goes to the class to keep them busy, as I take a few frantic bites of the chicken I had bought to fill my stomach before getting dressed and driving back over. I get there in time to watch Aimee finish teaching the first half of the class. During break she passes me what she calls an 'emergency lesson plan'. After an awkward session with a particularly quiet and unmotivated class, I got onto my bike and headed over to Vasco's.
I was an hour late. But the band? Indefinitely late. So after an hour of dancing and being sociable, my stomach made a ruling and insisted we leave. So I make my goodbyes and head to a ramen place around the corner before heading home.

Home Body

Back to health. And to work. My school greeted me back with a new schedule, complete with eight hours of classes on both Saturday and Sunday. But in reality, it keeps me at the school from 7am to 7pm, with time for a short lunch before I have to plan the lessons for the second half of the day. I was wiped out after Saturday but by the next day I was a bit more comfortable with the craziness of the schedule.
The timing could've been better though. Daphne left for her trip to India on Monday where she will be doing a yoga trainer's course and will be gone for six to seven weeks. Which means we really didn't have much of a last weekend together. Also, my roommate is visiting family in Seattle for the next couple weeks, which means I'm living alone for the first time since I've been in Vietnam. It is a bit lonely, but at least I'm catching up on my reading.
Tomorrow I have a follow up blood test to make sure my body's going back to normal. My tonsillitis was caused virally, and doctor's keeping me off sports and heavy drinking for a month to let my spleen and liver settle. I'm more bothered about the sports, because I've gotten pretty out of shape and am ready to do some climbing. On the other hand, the climbing wall here is awful. It's poorly run and seems as though they don't know anything about making routes. I'm thinking I may need to open up my own wall if I end up staying here for more than a year.
Anyhow, I think I might make myself some yoghurt and Coco Puffs and head for bed. Cheers.

School's Out

Done! The course is finished! So what's next? Daphne's packing her suitcase right now for the trip to Hoi Ann tomorrow. We get back next Sunday, she flies out Monday at 9 and at 11 I have a job interview at ILA Vietnam. I'm going to send my CV out to a couple other schools, but I could be at work as soon as two weeks from now. We'll see how things go.
Yesterday morning we had a potluck with our students. The students generated a game that involved picking tasks out of a bag. Like truth or dare without the truth part. John, one of the teachers, had to flick a student on the nose, and Bret, another teacher, had to kiss his 'favorite student' on the cheek. I had to chug three glasses of water. Foreshadowing for the night ahead maybe?
The school day was halved and just involved a few minor administrative details. Then some pre-evening tea and movie[The Bedford Incident~I recommend it] and we were back at Quan An Ngon for dinner with the CELTA crew.

[At Quan An Ngon]

On the way there, we had a bit of a fright. We saw a four-year old boy take a bus to the face. Luckily he was on the ground crying and his mom was there, so it seems that there was no serious injuries. I can't blame the bus on this one, the kid was crossing the street with his mom and did a 360 in the middle of the road, right into its path. People are pretty careless about safety here sometimes. 'Hold my son's hand while crossing the street at night? Why?'
Anyways, dinner was really good but a little tightly packed. One guy had to crawl under the table on one side to get to his seat. The service was kind of slow, after five minutes I had to get up and get behind the bar to get my beer.
After dinner we headed to an over decorated five story karaoke bar where two of our tutors, Rob and Joanna, joined us. The talent was poorly balanced, with Angela being an absolute diva on the mic, and Phillip, who didn't know when to let go[he REALLY needed to let go]. Bill, the 70 year old New Yorker in cowboy boots, had bought some rice wine in the Mekong Delta. I took a small sip and cringed. Joanna, being Polish, teased me for being a Russian and cringing at alcahol so I was obliged to take a double shot straight from the bottle, look her in the eyes and smile as proof of my rights to heritage.

[There were also some real cool shots of polar bears]

At the end of the night there were some goodbyes but also some see-you-arounds as a few of the crew will still be in Saigon teaching, maybe even in the same school as me.
Alright, Daphne's done packing and we've still got a bunch of errands to run. Updates after I get back from Hoi An. Wish me luck at the interview!